The truck rattled across the cracked highway, kicking up dust and broken asphalt.  

Nara Vivienne kept her hands tight on the wheel, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few seconds.  

When the fortress finally disappeared behind the ruined skyline, she exhaled—half relief, half dread.  

A few kilometers later, she pulled into the shell of an old gas station.  

The sign above was faded beyond recognition, the pumps long since rusted into statues.  

Three men emerged from the shadows, rifles slung over their shoulders.  

“Well?” the tallest one asked, stepping closer. “That fortress—can it be taken?”  

Nara slammed the door shut and leaned against the truck.  

“No,” she said firmly. “You can’t break in. Not with what we’ve got.”  

The second man spat on the ground. “Then what’s the point of sending you?”  

She met his glare. “Because I did get what we needed. Food. Exactly as promised. And…”  

She hesitated, glancing toward the truck bed.  

“…he even gave me extra. A box of fruit.”  

“Fruit?” The men exchanged looks of disbelief.  

“Yeah. Fresh ones.”  

The leader frowned. “Doesn’t sound like the monster people say he is.”  

Nara shrugged. “He’s not. I think the rumors are wrong. He just… doesn’t want to see anyone.”  

She didn’t mention the words written on the extra crate—*For the beautiful one.*  

That part stayed buried.  

If she’d said it, they’d tear the fortress apart looking for weakness.  

And that, she realized, was why the so-called “Last Supplier” never showed his face.  

Ever since the beginning of the apocalypse, the man had chosen solitude over trust.  

He built walls so thick that even gratitude couldn’t pass through without suspicion.  

“Maybe you just didn’t look hard enough,” one of the men growled. “Maybe he’s hiding something big in there.”  

Nara’s tone hardened. “He’s hiding *people.* Loyal ones. And security systems that make your rifles look like toys.”  

The men fell silent. None of them liked hearing the truth.  

Finally, the leader stepped forward. “You’re not done yet.”  

Nara’s jaw tightened. “What?”  

“You’re going back,” he said, pulling a folded paper from his coat. “You’ll ask for this.”  

He shoved the paper into her hand.  

Two lines written in smudged ink:  

**Two carbines. Payment: one crate of fruit.**

She frowned. “Weapons for fruit? That’s too specific. He’ll be suspicious.”  

The man sneered. “Then make him trust you. 

You said he’s not a monster, right? Use that pretty face of yours.”  

Her stomach turned, but she forced a nod. “Fine. But I go alone.”  

They exchanged glances. The leader finally grunted, “Go. But if you don’t come back with something… don’t bother coming back at all.”  

Nara took the paper, walked back to her truck, and climbed in.  

She didn’t look back as the engine coughed to life.  

The fortress loomed far in the distance, just a dark shape on the horizon.  

She tightened her grip on the wheel.  

“One more visit,” she whispered. “Then I’m done with all of you.”  

And with that, she turned the truck toward Hancock Fortress once more.