Surviving the Apocalypse With My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend-Chapter 75: And the second

My steps were quick—too quick—as I pushed out of the infirmary and into the compound’s main corridor. I kept my head down, jaw tight, forcing everything back where it couldn’t spill out in front of anyone who might be watching.

Weakness was currency here. And I was already overdrawn.

Behind me, Isabella’s voice echoed faintly in my head—soft, fragile.

Thank you.

The word didn’t make sense. It scraped against something raw in my chest. I hadn’t earned it. I didn’t deserve it. And the fact that she’d said it anyway made my stomach twist harder than any accusation could’ve.

I kept walking.

Boots scraped against concrete. Generators hummed. Somewhere, people were talking—laughing, even. Life continuing like it always did, indifferent to the damage left bleeding behind closed doors.

My hands curled at my sides.

Then I saw them.

Up ahead, near the outer walkway, Aubrey and Hale stood in quiet conversation with—

Carl.

The sight hit me harder than I expected.

Something warm flickered in my chest before I could stop it. Familiar. Safe. Carl had always been that—steady, uncomplicated. The kind of presence that made you believe things could still be normal, if you squinted hard enough.

And then I saw who stood beside him.

The commander.

The warmth died instantly.

My expression hardened, unease coiling tight in my gut. Her posture was rigid, authoritative, eyes sharp as she listened—evaluating, calculating. She didn’t belong next to Carl. Not like that. Not now.

Why is she with him?

Carl turned just then.

His face lit up when he spotted me, relief and recognition breaking through his fatigue. He lifted a hand, already smiling, already reaching for me without realizing it.

I looked away.

I angled my shoulders, shifted my path, pretended—pathetically—that I was just someone else passing through. Another survivor. Another ghost moving through the compound with too much blood on his hands.

I felt it anyway.

The moment his smile faltered.

The slow lowering of his hand.

I didn’t look back. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep walking.

Carl stiffened, his jaw setting as his fists curled at his sides.

"Any idea what’s up with him?" he asked quietly, eyes still fixed on the direction Adrian had gone.

Aubrey and Hale exchanged a brief look—one of those silent conversations built from too much shared history.

"He’s... going through a tough time right now," Aubrey said at last.

The words landed heavy, insufficient.

Silence stretched between them, thick and uneasy, until Aubrey turned sharply toward Adira. Her expression darkened, voice dropping into something firm and unyielding.

"I’m still not sure why you came."

Adira folded her arms, trying to remain stoic. Yet— something had cracked.

"I don’t think anyone who knew what you did would ever want you here."

"....I was helping Carl survive. That’s all."

Carl stiffened at her words, nervous. Hale scratched his beard, unable to look Adira in the eyes. Aubrey picked at her eyebrow, irritated.

"Look, I know you can be a little insensitive, but whatever you do," she said, "don’t tell him what happened to the people from the camp in Chicago. Not now. It’ll push him past the edge. Maybe for good. At most, say they got lost or something..."

Adira didn’t answer right away.

Then she shook her head.

"No," she said calmly. "It won’t."

Carl looked at her. So did Hale. Aubrey’s brow furrowed, irritation flickering across her face.

Adira met their stares without flinching.

"You’re misunderstanding how his mind works," she said. "Adrian has a high adaptive factor. When he’s overwhelmed— when things become too much— something fractures."

She tapped her temple lightly.

"And then it hardens."

A pause.

"It’s a survival response. His emotions shut down so his instincts can take over. He becomes... efficient."

Aubrey’s eyes narrowed. "That doesn’t sound healthy."

"It isn’t," Adira replied evenly. "But it keeps him alive."

She hesitated, then added quietly, "That said... from what you’ve told me—"

Her gaze shifted, following the path Adrian had disappeared down.

"That blonde woman," she continued. "She’s the crack in that armor. His weakness."

Aubrey scoffed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Carl stepped forward, shaking his head once. "She’s right."

They all turned to him.

"That’s actually why we’re here," Carl said, voice tight. "Because of that, and...a few other things, Adrian’s in grave danger. Something big is coming."

Hale’s posture stiffened.

"The Crucible," Carl finished.

The name settled over them like a curse.

"They won’t stop," he said. "Not until they get their hands on him."

A pause.

"Running won’t help," Carl added.

The silence that followed was heavy, deliberate.

Then Aubrey spoke, her voice low, resolute.

"Then we don’t run."

Hale nodded once.

"We bring the Crucible down."

The words tasted wrong the moment they left my mouth.

"Lila... we need to talk."

She turned slowly, like she’d been expecting it. A soft smile settled on her lips—familiar, warm—but beneath it, something restless shifted. Something sharp.

It reminded me, painfully, of how badly I’d wanted to trust her.

Of how much space I’d given her to act in my name.

"What is it, my love?" she asked.

I drew in a breath. Just one. Like it might be enough.

"...You know you went too far with Jane," I said. "I only wanted you to rough her up a bit. A warning. Just enough to make sure she didn’t hurt Peter again."

Something flickered in her eyes.

Confusion. Then irritation.

"But that’s what I did," she said, frowning slightly.

My chest tightened.

"She’s bleeding out, Lila," I said quietly. "And right now her husband is being treated for a slashed throat."

The words hung there between us, heavy and unmoving.

My gaze drifted past her—to the kitchen.

The faucet was still running, water spilling endlessly into a sink already full. Broken plates littered the floor like shards of bone. A chair lay overturned. Drawers half-open. Smears on the counter that no one had bothered to wipe away.

Signs of a struggle so violent it felt like it should’ve been screaming.

And the soldiers hadn’t even looked.

"...What happened, Lila?" I asked.

Silence.

"Please," I added. "Be honest with me."

Her smile disappeared.

Her expression hardened, like something snapping into place. My breath hitched as she stood.

"What are you trying to insinuate here?" she asked.

I stepped back without thinking.

She noticed.

Her eyes flicked down to my feet. Then back up to my face.

"Oh," she said softly. "You’re still afraid of me, aren’t you...?"

My throat bobbed. I couldn’t answer.

"Unbelievable," she muttered.

"Lila—wait," I said quickly. "Can we just—"

"No," she cut in. "No, see, I did exactly what you asked me to do." Her voice sharpened with every word. "I thought you’d be proud of me. That I finally did one good thing for you."

She stepped closer.

"That I wasn’t screwing everything up again."

Her footsteps were heavy. Deliberate.

I kept retreating until there was nowhere left to go—my back pressed to the wall, cold and unforgiving.

"What now, huh?" she snapped, her face inches from mine. "You gonna shut me out after you’re done using me? Call me a psycho again? Huh?!"

My vision blurred.

Tears burned, threatening to spill no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

"No—no," I said quickly. "Lila, nothing like that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry..."

The word felt small.

Useless.

And standing there, cornered by the woman I’d trusted to protect me, I realized something with terrifying clarity—

I hadn’t been afraid of her before.

But I was now.

Just then, my ears began to ring.

The air vibrated with the aftershock of the explosion that just ensued, rattling windows and sending dust motes dancing in the fading sunlight.

Lila and I staggered, bracing against the sudden force. My chest tightened. My stomach twisted.

Outside, chaos was already blooming. Shouts carried over the concrete and steel of the compound.

Soldiers shouted orders, rifles raised, boots pounding the asphalt like war drums. Somewhere, a scream cut through the din—sharp and desperate.

What the hell...?

Lila’s eyes didn’t waver. She scanned the perimeter, reading the chaos as if it were a puzzle she already knew the answer to.

And then—movement at the doorway.

Carl. Breathless. Hair matted with sweat. Eyes wide, scanning.

Lila’s gaze locked on him immediately, narrowing, muscles tensing.

"Carl..." I started, but my words faltered.

"We need to move. Now," he said, urgency slicing through the noise. His tone brooked no argument.

I followed his gaze. The shadows beyond the gates shifted, too coordinated to be random.

"They’re here!" Carl said, and the words hit like ice water.

Lila’s jaw tightened.

I didn’t need to hear who.

Something primal surged inside me—fear, yes—but also adrenaline. Instinct. Survival. And for the first time since everything had gone sideways, I felt... ready.

The compound was no longer safe. Not for anyone. Not for us.

"Move," Lila said, finally, her voice low, sharp, commanding.

And we did.

Every step forward echoed against the concrete, every heartbeat a drumbeat of warning. The Crucible had arrived— and nothing would be the same.