《And they call him Bob... The Goliath!》


 Chapter 1 – The Meteor Shower Special (With Extra Crunch)

    It was supposed to be just another regular day.


    The sun was up. Cars clogged the streets outside. People argued over the best noodle toppings. And inside a small noodle house on the corner of the block, Bob wiped the tables like usual¡ªslowly and half-heartedly, like a man who knew the floor wasn¡¯t going anywhere.


    ¡°Bob! Wipe those tables properly!¡± Grandpa¡¯s voice bellowed from the kitchen.


    ¡°I am,¡± Bob called back, dragging the rag over the same spot twice. ¡°Looks clean to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not clean until I say it¡¯s clean!¡±


    Bob shrugged and wiped it a third time. ¡°There. Perfect.¡±


    Bob never thought much about life. After his parents died when he was a baby¡ªsome accident no one liked to talk about¡ªhis grandpa raised him in the same quiet neighborhood, running a small noodle shop tucked between bigger, flashier places. It wasn¡¯t famous, but the regulars liked it. Grandpa cooked. Bob cleaned. That was life. Simple, quiet, and good enough.


    He was hard to miss¡ª6''7", nearly 380 pounds, built like a wall with a soft belly instead of abs. Short, messy hair, small eyes, and a face that always looked half-asleep. Not musclebound, not flashy. Just big. Steady.


    A familiar laugh came from the doorway. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get fired from your own family¡¯s business at this rate.¡±


    Bob looked up to see Gabe walking in, waving lazily. ¡°Hey, genius.¡±


    ¡°Hey, idiot,¡± Gabe said with a grin. ¡°Busy day?¡±


    Bob gestured at the empty seats. ¡°Yeah. Can barely keep up.¡±


    ¡°Mind if I slow you down some more?¡± Gabe flopped into the booth near the window, setting his backpack on the seat beside him.


    Gabe had been around as long as Bob could remember. Childhood friends from the same neighborhood. Same schools. Same after-school fights behind the gym¡ªthough usually with Gabe hiding behind Bob. Where Bob was huge, Gabe was the opposite. Average height, lean, with neatly combed dark hair and sharp hazel eyes that always seemed to be thinking ten steps ahead. His clothes were never out of place, like he took getting dressed as seriously as breathing. And now? Still together. Still surviving. Except now Bob worked, and Gabe was... well... still looking.


    ¡°Thought you had an interview today,¡± Bob said as he dropped a menu in front of him.


    ¡°They canceled.¡± Gabe sighed and scratched the back of his head. ¡°Said something about the meteor. Like the world¡¯s ending or something.¡±


    Bob smirked. ¡°Yeah. Scary rock from space. Real end-of-the-world stuff.¡±


    Gabe opened his phone and held it out. ¡°I¡¯m serious! Look at this.¡±


    On-screen, a reporter stood on a rooftop with the sky behind her, the glowing meteor now visible like a second sun.


    "Experts are still debating the possible outcomes as the meteor enters the atmosphere," the reporter said, her voice steady but tight. "While most believe it will break apart and burn up before impact, a growing number of scientists suggest fragments may survive entry. Several theories are being shared online, including the possibility of localized damage from falling debris. Authorities are urging the public to remain calm and stay indoors until further notice."


    Behind her, the pinkish glow of the meteor shimmered like a bad omen.


    ¡°They said it¡¯s gonna burn up,¡± Bob muttered, barely looking.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they thought yesterday. Now they¡¯re not so sure.¡± Gabe scrolled through the comments. ¡°Whole world¡¯s watching. Feels like one of those disaster movies.¡±


    "Again, to repeat¡ªwhile the meteor''s core is expected to dissolve, experts now believe some pieces could make it to the surface. But there is no cause for panic¡ª"


    The broadcast cut briefly as the signal flickered.


    Gabe squinted at the screen. "Yeah, no cause for panic. They say that right before it all goes to hell."


    Bob leaned over to look. "Looks kinda pretty, though."


    "That''s not supposed to be the takeaway, Bob."


    Bob snorted. ¡°Long as it doesn¡¯t hit my lunch, I¡¯m good.¡±


    Still, he¡¯d never seen Gabe this worked up over a news report before. Maybe it wasn¡¯t just hype this time. Maybe.


    ¡°Speaking of lunch... you joining me, or what?¡±


    Bob glanced toward the kitchen. ¡°Grandpa! Two bowls!¡±


    ¡°Coming up!¡± Grandpa shouted. ¡°And Bob, don¡¯t think sitting down gets you out of work!¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dream of it,¡± Bob muttered, sliding into the booth across from Gabe.


    They sat there for a bit, watching the live stream. News anchors argued over what would happen. Some said the meteor would shatter. Others warned of global disaster. Gabe leaned closer to the window, peering at the sky.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we, like... evacuate or something?¡±


    Bob yawned. ¡°Where? The noodles are here.¡±


    Gabe rolled his eyes. ¡°I swear, one day your stomach¡¯s gonna get us both killed.¡±


    A minute later, Grandpa shuffled out with two steaming bowls of noodles. ¡°Eat up, boys. Might be the last meal you get if those scientists are right.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Wow, thanks for the optimism,¡± Gabe muttered.


    Bob grabbed his chopsticks. ¡°Food¡¯s food.¡±


    Grandpa chuckled. ¡°And don¡¯t waste any.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    ---


    They were halfway through their bowls when the first boom shook the building. The first boom hit like a punch to the chest, rattling the windows so hard the glass nearly cracked. Somewhere outside, tires screeched, and the sharp sound of twisting metal cut through the air.


    Distant car alarms blared. People on the street stopped. Looked up. Then someone screamed.


    Gabe sat bolt upright. ¡°Uh... was that...?¡±


    Bob looked out the window. ¡°Huh.¡±


    Fires in the distance. Smoke curling. People running. Maybe it really was one of those disaster movies. He just hoped the credits wouldn¡¯t roll before lunch was over.


    The meteor wasn¡¯t burning up. Pieces were breaking off as it hit the atmosphere. Big pieces. And they were falling. Fast.


    "We have breaking news... The meteor has fractured upon entering the atmosphere. Multiple large fragments are now falling toward populated areas. Early reports confirm impacts in several major cities¡ª" she paused, looking off-camera as someone shouted. "¡ªTokyo, New York, Moscow... emergency services are responding. Authorities are now advising everyone to seek immediate shelter. Please¡ª"


    The feed stuttered. The camera shook as a low rumble echoed through the broadcast.


    "Please stay indoors and away from windows. We repeat: this is not a drill."


    One fragment tore straight through the top of a skyscraper down the block. The explosion sent flaming debris raining into the streets. A shockwave hit seconds later, rattling the noodle shop''s walls and knocking over a salt shaker.


    The smell of burning metal drifted in through the window.


    "Okay, this is officially bad," Gabe muttered, sliding deeper into the booth like the worn-out cushions might somehow shield him from the apocalypse.


    Another impact. Another explosion. Somewhere nearby, a gas station went up, sending a thick column of smoke curling into the already pink-stained sky. Sirens wailed from every direction, lost beneath the steady hum of screaming.


    And yet, even as the ground gave a low, rumbling shake beneath them, Gabe realized he wasn¡¯t panicking the way any normal person should be.


    And really, there was only one reason for that.


    Bob.


    It had always been like this.


    Gabe still remembered being a kid, back when the worst thing in the world was breaking a neighbor¡¯s window with a rogue baseball swing. Back then, he thought his life was over. Fines, furious parents, getting banned from the block for life¡ªhe¡¯d already written the end of his story in his head. But before the panic could even hit full speed, Bob just shrugged, wandered down the street to the abandoned classroom no one used, ripped out a whole window, and popped it into place like it was another chore on his to-do list.


    Problem solved. Crisis averted.


    The neighbor didn¡¯t even yell. They got snacks.


    And that was Bob.


    The guy who fixed problems before they could become disasters. The guy who shrugged off the end of the world like it was just another Tuesday. The guy who made saving his own little corner of the world feel as casual as wiping down a table or taking out the trash.


    And he did that over and over again.


    No fuss. No speeches. Just Bob, quietly keeping the world from falling apart... like it was the most normal thing in the world.


    So yeah, sure. Meteors were falling. Cities were burning. And maybe humanity was having its worst day in recorded history.


    But Bob was still sitting there, slurping noodles like it wasn¡¯t his concern.


    And for Gabe, that was enough.


    Because no matter how bad it got, no matter how hopeless it looked, as long as Bob was there, it felt like they were already standing in the safest place on Earth.


    Bob was his Safe Zone.


    And then, just as Bob went to take another bite, something crashed through the window.


    A glowing, pinkish fragment about the size of his finger bounced off the table and landed directly in his bowl.


    Gabe stared. ¡°Dude.¡±


    Bob blinked at it.


    It sizzled, steam rising off the broth like someone dropped a hot coal into soup.


    ¡°Dude,¡± Gabe repeated. ¡°A space rock just fell into your lunch.¡±


    Bob poked it with his chopsticks. The fragment hissed. The noodles around it turned a little crispy. Bob tilted his head.


    For a brief second, he thought, maybe this was the kind of thing you should NOT eat. Then again... food was food.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°can¡¯t waste food.¡±


    Before Gabe could stop him, Bob scooped up the fragment with a few noodles and popped it into his mouth.


    Crunch.


    Gabe¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°You¡¯re not serious.¡±


    Bob chewed. ¡°Tastes like... burnt bacon.¡±


    Gabe pointed toward Bob''s bowl, eyes wide. "Grandpa! He just ate part of the meteor!"


    From the kitchen, Grandpa¡¯s voice called back without missing a beat. "Uh-huh... as long as he finishes the broth!"


    Gabe blinked. "Wait... what? That''s it?"


    Grandpa didn¡¯t even poke his head out. To him, it was just more of their usual nonsense.


    Bob shrugged, lifting the bowl and slurping down the last of the soup. "See? Full approval."


    Gabe groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "We are absolutely dead.¡±


    ---


    Outside, chaos spread. More fragments hit the city. One crashed into a bus. Another blew a hole through the grocery store across the street. Fires burned. People screamed. The sky turned pink.


    Bob glanced outside, then back at his empty bowl.


    Bob pointed at Gabe''s half-finished bowl. "Are you eating that?"


    Gabe blinked. "Man... seriously?"


    Bob shrugged. "Waste is waste."


    "Bob. Priorities."


    "I am prioritizing. Food first. Apocalypse later."


    Gabe groaned, pushing his bowl over. "Unbelievable. World¡¯s ending and I¡¯m babysitting your stomach."


    ---


    While Bob shamelessly swapped their bowls¡ªwell, more like took Gabe''s half-finished one without asking¡ªthe live stream kept playing from Gabe''s phone, propped up between the salt shaker and a napkin holder.


    "Breaking update," the reporter announced, voice tight with tension. "Authorities have confirmed the appearance of an unusual pink fog near several meteor crash sites. Early tests show no immediate danger to those nearby, but scientists urge extreme caution. Citizens are advised to avoid all fog-affected areas while research teams investigate. Please remain calm and follow local safety protocols."


    Gabe sighed and lowered his phone slightly, his eyes drifting toward the front window. He half-expected to see waves of pink mist creeping down the street. But the streets were still empty. Safe.


    "Good thing we¡¯re not near any of that stuff," Gabe said, more to himself.


    Bob didn¡¯t even look up from his bowl. "Cool."


    Gabe sighed. ¡°Man, you¡¯re impossible.¡±


    Meanwhile, Bob kept eating, like the world ending wasn¡¯t enough reason to skip a meal.


    It took a while before Grandpa finally came out from the kitchen, just as Bob was finishing the last sip of his broth. He was wiping his hands on a towel, his face a little pale, movements slower than usual.


    He rubbed his ear with a deep frown, like something was bothering him.


    "You good?" Bob asked, glancing up from his now-empty bowl.


    Grandpa just waved it off.


    ¡°Old bones,¡± Grandpa muttered, rubbing his ear. ¡°Let¡¯s close up for today. Not like anyone¡¯s coming back.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Bob said, stretching his arms.


    Gabe checked his phone, scrolling through the live stream one last time. The updates had slowed down¡ªno new reports, just the same looping footage of the aftermath: burning buildings, shattered highways, emergency crews scrambling.


    "Looks like that''s it for now," he muttered, closing the stream with a sigh. "No new news. Just wreckage."


    He slipped the phone into his pocket.


    Gabe glanced at the darkening sky. The streets were quiet now, too quiet. No cars. No voices. Just the faint crackle of distant fires and the low hum of wind through broken windows.


    "I¡¯m heading home before things get weirder. Message me if the world ends, yeah?"


    Bob gave him a lazy wave. ¡°Sure. See you tomorrow.¡±


    If there was a tomorrow.


    Gabe hurried out, backpack slung over his shoulder, disappearing into the quiet, broken street.


    Bob stacked the empty bowls and glanced down at his.


    The fragment wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    He shrugged.


    ¡°Guess I finished it.¡±


    Then he got back to cleaning up, same as always.

 Chapter 2 – Cities Crumble, Noodles Remain

    The next morning felt like the world had forgotten how to breathe.


    Bob unlocked the door of the noodle shop, pushed it open, and glanced around the empty street.


    No cars.No people.No morning rush.


    Shattered glass covered the asphalt, and a high-rise in the distance looked like something had taken a huge chunk out of it. Smoke curled from its top floors. The air tasted like burnt metal.


    Bob flicked on the lights inside the shop. Nothing happened.


    "Huh."


    Shrugging, he pulled a chair from under a table and sat down, staring out the window like it was just another slow day.


    A few minutes later, Gabe burst through the door, panting and wide-eyed.


    ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re really open?¡± Gabe wheezed, hands on his knees.


    Bob nodded. ¡°Place won¡¯t run itself.¡±


    Gabe glanced around the empty dining room. ¡°Bob¡­ look outside, man.¡±


    Bob tilted his head. ¡°Looks quiet.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the end of the world!¡± Gabe shouted, throwing his arms up. ¡°Half the city¡¯s gone, people are looting, and you¡¯re wiping tables like it¡¯s lunchtime!¡±


    Bob scratched his head. ¡°Gotta keep busy.¡±


    Gabe slumped into a chair. ¡°You¡¯re unbelievable.¡±


    The TV behind the counter flickered weakly to life, running on the backup generator. The reporter from yesterday was still there, though her hair was messier and her voice was cracking.


    "Breaking updates on the global situation," she said, reading from a crumpled piece of paper. "As of this morning, governments worldwide are declaring states of emergency following the meteor impact."


    Footage rolled.


    Cities leveled.Highways snapped like twigs.Airports reduced to burning craters.


    "Tsunamis have struck coastal regions. Thousands are missing. Relief efforts are underway, but..." the reporter paused, swallowing hard, "most major powers are prioritizing their own cities. Negotiations between nations have broken down. Countries are refusing to share resources. Some governments are openly accusing others of withholding aid."


    Gabe ran his hands through his hair. "Of course. Every man for himself now."


    Bob didn''t answer. He was watching the screen, but mostly because it was the only thing making noise.


    The reporter continued. "International organizations are scrambling to take control of what resources remain. Major criminal groups have taken over several supply routes. Early attempts at global coordination have collapsed."


    They showed footage of relief trucks being hijacked, food warehouses being looted, and soldiers arguing at borders, guns raised, while the people trapped between them screamed for help.


    "In the U.S., multiple states are already declaring independence from the federal government. In Europe, borders are closing, and several countries are threatening military action against their neighbors. Russia, China, and the U.K. have officially withdrawn from joint relief efforts."


    Bob leaned back in his chair, glancing at the empty street. "So... guess the lunch rush is canceled?"


    Gabe gawked at him. "Meteor disaster, end of the world, and you''re worried about customers?"


    Bob shrugged. "Gotta plan ahead."


    Gabe groaned. "You''re unbelievable."


    Outside, the pink fog was no longer some distant rumor from the news. Yesterday, it had been invisible¡ªjust whispers and warnings on a screen. But now? Now it was real.


    South of the noodle house, maybe five or six blocks away, the fog crept between buildings like a rising tide, thick and undeniable. What was once empty air had turned into a shimmering pink haze, swirling between the wreckage of cars and the shattered remains of storefronts.


    It was still far enough not to touch the noodle house, but close enough to see with the naked eye.


    And it wasn¡¯t stopping.


    Every few minutes, Bob swore it looked darker. Thicker. Like it was waiting for something.


    And slowly but surely... it was getting closer.


    The reporter¡¯s voice crackled through the stream, noticeably more frantic than before.


    "The fog is... it¡¯s spreading faster than initial estimates. It''s now confirmed in over 70% of urban areas. Scientists are still struggling to understand its properties, but what we do know is this¡ª"


    She paused, glancing off-screen as someone handed her an update. Her face paled, but she kept going.


    "Meteor fragments remain the only reliable source of protection. Areas with large fragments are forming what experts are calling ''Safe Zones''¡ªlocalized barriers where the fog cannot penetrate. If you''re near a crash site with an active fragment, stay inside the protected perimeter and do not leave unless absolutely necessary."


    Her eyes flickered back to the camera.


    "For everyone else... please remain calm. Authorities are doing everything they can."


    Gabe scoffed under his breath, lowering the phone slightly as the feed cut to shaky footage of fog swallowing another distant city.


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    "Yeah. Sure they are."


    The reporter paused again. Looked off-screen.


    Then came the words that changed everything.


    "We''ve just received confirmation... the fog emits a field similar to an electromagnetic pulse. Any technology that enters the fog is instantly disabled. Military vehicles, drones, aircraft... all down. Global power grids are failing across multiple continents.."


    As if on cue, the lights inside the noodle shop flickered, buzzed... and died.


    The TV went black.


    The fridge hummed its last breath.


    Outside, the streetlights blinked out, one by one.


    Silence.


    Real silence.


    The kind you only hear when the world officially gives up.


    Gabe stood slowly. ¡°Bob... I think we need to leave.¡±


    Bob looked at him. ¡°Why?¡±


    Gabe gestured toward the window. ¡°Because everything¡¯s gone. And I don¡¯t think it''s coming back.¡±


    Bob stared at the growing wall of fog curling toward the shop.


    "Alright,¡± he said. ¡°But let¡¯s bring the broth.¡±


    ---


    In another place, in a smaller district that hadn¡¯t been completely flattened by falling debris, the local government offices were in full panic.


    ¡°We need more barricades on the west side! The fog¡¯s coming in faster than expected!¡± shouted the deputy mayor, sweat dripping down his face as he pointed at a crude map spread across the table. ¡°And where¡¯s our supply update? We¡¯ve got three shelters running out of food!¡±


    But no one answered him.


    Because at that moment, the front doors slammed open.


    A dozen figures marched in¡ªmen and women in mismatched body armor, carrying baseball bats, knives, and stolen rifles. The leader of the group, a man with a shaved head and a jagged scar across his cheek, tossed a bullet-riddled vest onto the floor.


    ¡°Meeting¡¯s over,¡± he said with a grin. ¡°Iron Claw is in charge now.¡±


    The deputy mayor blinked. ¡°Wh-What are you talking about? We¡¯re in the middle of organizing relief¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and you¡¯re doing a terrible job,¡± Scarface replied, waving his hand like he was swatting a fly. ¡°People are starving. Streets are chaos. Half your security ditched you the moment the fog touched the front gates. But don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll take it from here.¡±


    Two of his men dragged the mayor out of his chair.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do this!¡± the mayor shouted, struggling against them.


    ¡°We just did.¡±


    Iron Claw wasted no time. Within hours, they seized the food supplies, took over the armory, and locked down every road in and out of the district. What little remained of the local police either joined them or disappeared.


    By nightfall, the district wasn¡¯t a government territory anymore.


    It was Iron Claw¡¯s.


    Anyone who wanted shelter, food, or protection had to swear loyalty.


    And if they didn¡¯t?


    They were left outside.


    To the fog.


    To whatever came next.


    ---


    Somewhere across the sea¡­


    At the northern border, tension hung as thick as the fog now creeping over the hills.


    The air was thick with smoke from cigarettes and tension. Dozens of generals crowded around a long table cluttered with outdated maps and half-working radios. The supreme leader sat at the head, fingers tapping the armrest as one of his top commanders stood to deliver the latest update.


    "Report," the leader said, his voice sharp.


    The general cleared his throat and pointed at the map of the Korean Peninsula. Red circles marked South Korean military bases, but most of them were now crossed out with thick, black marker.


    ¡°Seoul is in complete disarray,¡± the general began. ¡°Initial impact from the meteor struck the outer districts, but secondary damage has left the entire city barely functioning. We have confirmed reports that a commercial airliner was clipped mid-air by a falling fragment. The plane went down directly onto their main military base in the south of the city, wiping out a significant portion of their active command."


    Murmurs filled the room.


    He continued. "Military response is scattered. Most of their available forces are not defending borders. They¡¯re spread thin¡ªfocused on rescue operations, digging out survivors from collapsed buildings, and trying to keep order in the capital. Bridges are down. Roads are blocked by debris. Communication lines are unstable."


    Another general scoffed. "They¡¯re wide open. We could walk right into Seoul with minimal resistance."


    The first general nodded. "That is our assessment. Intelligence indicates their focus has shifted entirely to disaster relief. Medical teams are overwhelmed. Food supplies are running low. Civil unrest is growing. Most of their military is digging through rubble or guarding emergency shelters. They are not prepared for an offensive."


    A grin slowly crept across the supreme leader¡¯s face.


    The leader leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together. "So, while they are weak... and blind... we take it all."


    Heads around the table nodded in agreement.


    One general clapped his hands. "We will strike under the guise of humanitarian aid. The world will believe we are helping... while we help ourselves."


    They all chuckled quietly.


    Orders were issued. Troops mobilized. Engines roared to life.


    The leader smirked, tapping the table. ¡°Do it. Announce our aid to the world. But bring the full force of our military. Tanks. Choppers. Artillery. Seoul will be ours before nightfall.¡±


    And so the Iron Wave moved south.


    Rows of tanks rolled over broken roads. Troop carriers roared across bridges. Helicopters darkened the skies, loaded with missiles meant to end whatever was left of the South''s resistance. Thousands of soldiers marched in perfect formation, confident, well-armed, and completely unaware that they weren¡¯t invading a country anymore.


    They were marching straight into the fog.


    <hr>


    It started small.


    A faint pulse through the radios. Static.


    Then the first tank¡¯s engine sputtered.


    One by one, vehicles slowed, grinding to a halt.


    "Commander, we¡¯re losing power!" someone shouted over comms.


    The helicopters hovered uncertainly. Then, as they entered the fog, their rotors faltered. One by one, they dropped from the sky like stones.


    The first crashed into the lead convoy. The explosion tore through half a column of troops, scattering debris and bodies across the road.


    The second clipped the roof of a tank, sending it skidding sideways into a ditch.


    Missile trucks stalled. Their launch systems went dark, dead screens and useless buttons blinking like toys.


    Panic spread.


    "Restore the systems!""Reboot the engines!""We¡¯re sitting ducks!"


    But there was no fixing it.


    The Pink Fog didn''t just disable tech¡ªit erased it.


    Guns jammed. Radios died. Night vision goggles flickered once, then blacked out. Every piece of machinery shut off like the entire army had tripped over the world''s biggest power switch.


    And the fog kept coming.


    Silent. Slow. Endless.


    ---


    On the southern side of the border, South Korean forces watched in stunned silence from their last remaining outpost.


    They¡¯d been bracing for the attack. Ready to make a last stand.


    But as the northern forces crossed into the fog, there was nothing left to fight.


    Through binoculars, the southern commander watched tanks grind to a stop, helicopters spiral out of control, soldiers screaming as machines died around them.


    ¡°They¡¯re done,¡± he muttered.


    Another officer lowered his scope. ¡°What do we do, sir?¡±


    The fog was coming for them next.


    ¡°We retreat,¡± the commander said. ¡°Tell the men. We fall back to the Safe Zone. Now.¡±


    They didn¡¯t have to be told twice.


    The southern troops abandoned the outpost as the fog crept closer, knowing exactly what it would do. They¡¯d seen enough already to understand.


    You couldn¡¯t fight the fog.

 Chapter 3 – The Walk into the Fog

    The world was still broken when they left the noodle shop.


    The Safe Zone stretched wider than Bob and Gabe expected, wrapping around most of the district. Meteor fragments glowed faintly from rooftops, streets, and even inside buildings. People had gathered around the larger ones, setting up makeshift camps and sharing food. Kids kicked rocks in the street. Old men sat on curbs, staring at the fog like it was some old neighbor who refused to leave.


    ¡°Feels weird,¡± Gabe muttered as they walked. ¡°Like¡­ everyone¡¯s just pretending things are fine. Like if they stay close to the rocks, none of this is real.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not.¡±


    Gabe sighed. "Only you could say that right now."


    Gabe tugged his hoodie tighter around his face. ¡°Man... I can''t stop thinking about what that scientist said on the news yesterday.¡±


    Bob glanced over. ¡°Which one?¡±


    ¡°You know. The one talking about Safe Zones and the fragments. Before the power cut out.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yeah. The lady with the big glasses.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡±


    Gabe cleared his throat, doing his best impression. ¡°¡®Based on our findings, meteor fragments are acting as natural fog repellents. We believe the outer material of these fragments contains properties that neutralize or push back the Pink Fog. The larger the fragment, the larger the radius of the Safe Zone. Think of them as... portable shelters. But they¡¯re not permanent solutions. If the fragments are moved, the zone moves. If stolen... well, the safety moves with the thief.¡¯¡±


    Bob scratched his head. ¡°So... no fragment, no Safe Zone.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Gabe kicked a rock down the street. ¡°And remember she said the fog¡¯s getting thicker every hour? One day, these Safe Zones won¡¯t even matter. Not unless we get more fragments or figure out how to stop the fog for good.¡±


    Bob nodded like he totally understood. ¡°Should¡¯ve brought some broth with us.¡±


    Gabe groaned. ¡°Broth is not gonna stop the fog.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Still would¡¯ve tasted good.¡±


    For the next hour, they traveled deeper through the Safe Zone, passing people cooking over barrel fires and charging phones off makeshift batteries. Most just glanced at them as they walked by. Nobody cared where anyone was going anymore.


    But as they reached the far edge of the district, the mood changed.


    Panic.


    People were running toward them from the other side of the Safe Zone.


    ¡°GO BACK!¡± someone yelled.


    ¡°They¡¯re coming!¡± shouted another.


    Gabe grabbed Bob¡¯s arm. ¡°This... feels bad.¡±


    Bob stopped in the middle of the road and held out his hand, stopping one of the fleeing men.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Bob said, as calm as ever. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±


    The man was gasping for air, covered in sweat. ¡°The fog... the people... they¡¯re changing! First they just looked weird. But now... now they''re killing each other!¡±


    Gabe leaned in. ¡°Changing? Into what?¡±


    ¡°Monsters! Creatures! I don¡¯t know! First they act normal, but then they lose their minds. six hours. That''s what they¡¯re saying. After six hours of breathing that stuff, you¡¯re done. And once you go insane, there¡¯s no coming back... unless you get one of those meteor fragments. Otherwise?¡± He pointed back behind him, toward the fog. ¡°You''re dead. Or worse.¡±


    The man took off running again without waiting for more questions.


    Gabe looked at Bob. ¡°Sooo... we¡¯re turning back, right?¡±


    Bob just kept walking. ¡°Nope. Grandpa¡¯s waiting.¡±


    And like that, they left the Safe Zone behind.


    ---


    The fog was thicker up close. It swirled like cotton candy, glowing faintly under the streetlights that were no longer powered. Beyond the line where the meteor fragments stopped working, it was a wall of soft pink death.


    Gabe stopped at the edge. ¡°Man, this is insane. Like, fully, properly insane.¡±


    Bob stepped into the fog without hesitation.


    The moment he crossed the line, his body cracked.


    Grew.


    Twisted.


    Bones stretched. Muscles swelled. His skin darkened, hardening like stone. His arms were the size of tree trunks, and his back hunched slightly under the weight of his newfound strength.


    A Goliath.


    Not some myth. Not a legend. But real¡ªa mountain of flesh and bone, standing nearly three meters tall, fists bigger than Gabe¡¯s head, with veins glowing faint pink under thick skin.


    Gabe nearly tripped backward. ¡°BOB?!¡±


    Bob flexed his fingers, looking down at his own body like he¡¯d just tried on a new jacket. ¡°Huh. Feels nice.¡±


    Gabe nearly tripped backward. ¡°BOB?! Do you... do you still know who I am? Are you... uh... still you?¡±


    Bob flexed his massive fingers, looking down at his new giant hands like he¡¯d just borrowed someone else''s jacket. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re Gabe. My lunch break buddy.¡±


    Gabe blinked. ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s your confirmation of sanity?¡±


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    Bob nodded. ¡°Yep.¡±


    Then he kept walking like nothing happened.


    Gabe groaned. ¡°We¡¯re so dead.¡±


    ---


    The fog got thicker as they moved through the abandoned streets. The only sounds were their own footsteps and the distant screeches of something very not human.


    They hadn¡¯t been walking long when the first real threat lumbered out of the fog.


    An orc.


    Big. Ugly. Mean.


    Its greenish skin was thick like leather, stretched tight over bulging muscles. Two jagged tusks jutted out from its lower jaw, and in its hands was a rusted, two-handed axe that looked like it had been ripped from the wreckage of a hardware store. Standing nearly two and a half meters tall, the beast snarled as it spotted them, saliva dripping from its crooked teeth.


    Gabe froze. ¡°Okay. Nope. No. I¡¯m out. Bob... Bob... that thing¡¯s looking at me.¡±


    And it was.


    The orc roared and charged, the ground trembling under its heavy steps.


    Gabe ducked behind Bob without shame. ¡°Save me, big guy!¡±


    The orc swung its axe down with both hands, aiming right where Gabe had been standing seconds earlier. The blade missed, slamming into the street with so much force that the cement cracked open like brittle glass, chunks of pavement spraying into the air.


    Gabe gulped. ¡°I... I think that was supposed to be me.¡±


    Before the orc could yank the axe free, Bob moved.


    A full swing of his left hand, backhanded and casual, like he was swatting away a fly.


    The orc, surprisingly quick, twisted its body just enough to dodge to the backwards to the right.


    A near miss.


    It snarled in triumph, thinking it had slipped the blow.


    But the moment it looked back, there was a boulder coming at its face.


    A second ago, without missing a beat, Bob¡¯s left hand dropped to the ground, grabbing a chunk of broken road the size of a microwave.


    Before the orc could recover, Bob hurled the slab of asphalt straight at its face.


    The orc tried to dodge again, twisting to the side¡ªbut as soon as it moved, it ran right into Bob¡¯s waiting right fist.


    A punch, full force, straight to its face.


    CRACK.


    Bob¡¯s right fist came straight from the side, faster than something that size should have been able to move. The orc had no time to react as the punch landed dead center on its face.


    The sound was like a melon meeting a wall.


    The orc''s head exploded into a pink mist, bits of skull and teeth scattering across the cracked street.


    A pink fragment tumbled from the remains, clinking as it hit the pavement.


    Bob scooped it up and tossed it into his mouth without missing a beat.


    ¡°Crunchy,¡± he said, wiping his hand on his pants.


    Gabe just blinked. ¡°Remind me never to make you mad.¡±


    But there was no time to rest.


    From above, wings flapped.


    A harpy.


    Thin and wiry, with sharp claws where human feet should¡¯ve been and filthy feathers covering its skeletal frame. Its face was part woman, part bird, and all nightmare. Beady eyes locked onto Gabe as it dove from the sky, talons stretched wide, screeching loud enough to make Gabe cover his ears.


    ¡°IT¡¯S COMING FOR ME!¡± Gabe shouted, stumbling backward as the harpy swooped down, its claws reaching out but still meters away.


    But before Bob could swat the harpy, a flash of movement darted from the side.


    A goblin.


    Small, no taller than Gabe¡¯s chest, with skin the color of swamp water and long, pointed ears that twitched as it ran. Its eyes were sharp and yellow, and in its clawed hand was a jagged knife, already dripping with something dark.


    Fast. Too fast.


    It dashed in, leaping from nearly three meters away, knife raised high.


    For a second, Gabe thought this was it. ¡°Oh, come on! Why is it always me?!¡± Gabe yelled, scrambling backward as the goblin launched itself, blade aimed right at his chest.


    Then Bob moved.


    With his right hand already lifted to block the harpy''s dive, he adjusted in mid-air.


    A left-to-right sweep, catching the harpy''s leg.


    In one motion, he spun his massive arm back the other way, swinging the harpy like a club.


    The goblin, mid-leap, couldn¡¯t stop.


    Couldn¡¯t dodge.


    Couldn¡¯t even blink.


    The harpy''s head collided with the goblin¡¯s skull with a sickening crunch.


    Both creatures exploded on impact, gore splattering across the street as two more fragments dropped to the ground.


    Gabe stared in silence, wiping flecks of something off his jacket.


    Bob casually picked up a fragment.


    ¡°You want one?¡±


    Gabe picked one up, curious. It shimmered like candy. He sniffed it. Licked it. Then popped it in his mouth.


    And immediately threw up.


    Blood splattered on the ground as the pink fragment clinked onto the street, rejected like a bad joke.


    ¡°Okay. Nope. Only you,¡± Gabe groaned, wiping his mouth.


    A little further on, just past the splattered remains of the goblin, something caught Bob''s eye. There was another fragment but It wasn¡¯t the usual soft pink glow he¡¯d gotten used to seeing after a fight.


    Near the headless goblin¡¯s twitching body, resting quietly in a pool of thick, dark blood, was a white fragment. Smaller than most, but glowing faintly like a tiny, frozen star. Its light pulsed steadily, colder and sharper than the gentle warmth of the pink ones.


    Bob crouched down, squinting. "Huh. This one''s different."


    Gabe leaned in, wiping goblin goo off his sleeve. "Yeah... that¡¯s not pink. That¡¯s... definitely new."


    The fragment almost looked clean in the middle of the filth, untouched by the chaos around it, like it didn''t belong there at all.


    Bob tried eating it. He gagged, spat it out, and wiped his tongue.


    ¡°Tastes awful.¡±


    ¡°Maybe don''t eat everything you find,¡± Gabe suggested.


    ¡°Can¡¯t help it.¡±


    Gabe picked up the white fragment, slipping it into his pocket. ¡°Feels... different. Maybe these are important.¡±


    And with the fog swirling around them, they kept walking, deeper into the chaos.


    ---


    Hours passed.


    Somewhere along the way, Gabe started coughing. His skin itched. His bones ached.


    And then he changed.


    Feathers sprouted from his arms. Wings unfolded from his back. His eyes sharpened, and his body shifted into something faster, lighter.


    A griffin.


    Part lion. Part eagle. All ridiculous.


    But they kept moving, the dense pink mist curling around them as if watching from every angle.


    Along the way, they fought. Again and again. Creatures leapt from the fog¡ªtwisted beasts hungry for anything that moved. Bob crushed them with fists, stones, whatever he could grab. Gabe swooped in from above, talons slashing, dropping enemies mid-flight like a claw machine on overdrive.


    By the time the next Safe Zone shimmered in the distance, they''d collected a small pile of pink fragments. Gabe even found another white one, though he knew better than to try eating it after what happened last time.


    They were scratched, bruised, and covered in streaks of fog-stained blood, but alive.


    And as the soft glow of the Safe Zone came into view, Gabe exhaled a shaky breath.


    ¡°At least tell me I¡¯m not walking like a lost pet back here.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°A little.¡±


    The fog stopped at the border, as if slamming into an invisible wall. Larger white fragments were embedded into buildings and street corners, glowing faintly and casting a soft, steady light over the entire Safe Zone.


    As they approached, Gabe felt the white fragment in his hand give a faint pulse.


    He slowed, glancing down. "Bob... I think this thing''s reacting."


    The closer they got, the stronger the vibration became, like the fragment was being quietly pulled toward the Safe Zone itself.


    Somehow, Gabe just knew. This is the key. This is why we can go back.


    Without a word, they crossed the line.


    And just like that¡ªbodies shifting, wings folding away, muscles shrinking¡ªthey were human again.


    Gabe stared at his hands, flexing his fingers, almost surprised they were still there. "Okay... that worked."


    People inside the zone stared at them like ghosts. Some gasped. Others whispered.


    Bob ignored them all.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the hospital?¡± he asked the first person he saw.


    They pointed, wide-eyed.


    Bob and Gabe made their way straight there, up the steps, through the front doors.


    Inside, the power was still on. Bright lights. Clean hallways. Doctors moving like it was just another day.


    They found Grandpa¡¯s room easily.


    The old man sat in bed, wearing a hospital gown, watching the news on a small TV.


    Bob knocked lightly on the doorframe. ¡°Hey.¡±


    Grandpa looked up from his bed and grinned. ¡°Took you long enough. Thought you ditched your old man for the end of the world.¡±


    Gabe stepped inside, glancing around the room, his eyes lingering on the glowing lights and humming machines. ¡°This place still has power¡­¡±


    Grandpa shrugged. ¡°Big hospital. Important people. Guess they keep the lights on when it counts.¡±


    Bob walked over, hands in his pockets. "You good?"


    ¡°Eh. Just some extra tests. Nothing I haven''t handled before.¡± Grandpa gave him a tired smile. ¡°Hope you two stayed out of trouble getting here.¡±


    Gabe and Bob exchanged a quick look.


    ¡°Yeah, of course,¡± Gabe lied smoothly. ¡°Nice and quiet trip.¡±


    Bob nodded. ¡°Uneventful.¡±


    Grandpa chuckled. ¡°For once. Maybe the world''s not ending after all.¡±


    Bob smirked. ¡°We''ll see. But... worth it.¡±


    And for a little while, sitting there in that small, flickering hospital room, it almost felt like things might be okay.

 Chapter 4 – King of Cowards (and Brains)

    Gabe never thought he''d be walking through the apocalypse thinking, ¡°Huh, not bad.¡±


    But here he was.


    The second district was holding together better than anyone had a right to expect. As he and Bob walked through the wide, surprisingly intact streets, Gabe couldn¡¯t help but stare. Compared to the ruins they had just come from, this place looked like someone had patched the apocalypse together with duct tape, scrap metal, and sheer determination.


    Solar panels lined the rooftops, tilted to catch what little sunlight made it through the haze. Below them, gasoline-powered generators hummed from alleyways and street corners, their low buzz filling the air as they pumped power through thick, tangled cables. It wasn¡¯t a perfect system¡ªfuel had to be scavenged, and the solar panels barely kept up¡ªbut it was enough to keep the lights on.


    The real lifeline, though, was the meteor fragments¡ªmassive chunks of rock, some as large as trucks, half-buried in the pavement like fallen stars. They didn¡¯t generate power, but they served a different purpose. A faint, shimmering glow surrounded each one, their overlapping barriers forming an invisible shield around the district.


    The Pink Fog curled at the edges, shifting like it was searching for cracks, but it never crossed. The people here had done more than survive¡ªthey had built something functional, something that lasted. A real safe zone. Something Gabe hadn¡¯t thought possible in a world like this.


    Larger fragments meant larger Safe Zones. Gabe remembered the broadcast clearly:


    "The size of a meteor fragment determines how much fog it can push back. Bigger fragments create stronger barriers, expanding the area of safety. In a way, these fragments act as natural shields, keeping the Pink Fog at bay."


    Looking around, Gabe believed it.


    This place wasn¡¯t just surviving¡ªit was thriving.


    People bartered on street corners, exchanging whatever they had left. Some cooked over makeshift stoves powered by a patched-together grid, and for a moment, the scent of real food filled the air. Laughter drifted through the streets, light and easy¡ªlike everyone had silently agreed to pretend the world wasn¡¯t collapsing just beyond the barrier. Kids kicked around a dented soccer ball while parents watched from shaded porches, their eyes never fully relaxed.


    But beneath the surface, Gabe saw the truth. This wasn¡¯t a community built on kindness. It wasn¡¯t about helping each other survive. Here, if you wanted to eat, you paid. With supplies. With whatever you had that was worth something.


    And Bob and Gabe? They had nothing.


    No trade. No food. No way in.


    Gabe sighed as his stomach growled. "Great. So, we survived the fog just to starve in paradise."


    Bob, unfazed, just nodded like this was all part of the plan. "Then we¡¯ll find food outside."


    Of course.


    Outside.


    Back into the fog.


    Gabe glanced back at the glowing walls of the Safe Zone, then out into the shifting pink beyond. ¡°Yeah. Fantastic idea.¡±


    ---


    For a brief moment, Gabe allowed himself to imagine this place was normal. But then the wind shifted.


    Beyond the safety of the white glow, past the barricades and stacked cars¡ªin the pink fog, they were watching.


    Nightmare creatures.


    Dozens of them.


    Things that used to be animals. Dogs the size of trucks with glowing eyes. Cats with too many legs and tails like whips. Twisted deer, their antlers sharp like tangled metal. Even the plants were wrong¡ªthick vines coiled near the fog, twitching as though waiting for someone to get too close.


    And they weren¡¯t just wandering anymore.


    They were marking territories.


    Gabe watched as a massive black wolf snarled and chased off a smaller winged creature from a wrecked bus. Another beast¡ªsomething horse-shaped, only meaner and uglier¡ªpaced the fog¡¯s border, daring anything to cross.


    The Pink Fog wasn¡¯t just spreading. It was building an ecosystem.


    And honestly? That terrified him more than the monsters did.


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    The fog only seemed to transform living things into fantasy creatures. No robots, no cars, no machines¡ªjust people, animals, and plants. And the longer they stayed in the fog, the stronger¡ªand more monstrous¡ªthey became.


    Some became mindless.


    Others... smarter.


    Even the creatures were fighting now.


    Fighting to survive.


    Fighting for dominance.


    Territories were forming.


    Rules were changing.


    Gabe rubbed his forehead. ¡°I swear... I just wanted a normal job. Maybe a desk. Air conditioning. A pension. Now I¡¯m in a horror movie with a walking brick wall.¡±


    Bob looked over his shoulder. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡±


    Gabe said quickly. ¡°Just talking to myself.¡±


    ---


    Trying to focus on something else, Gabe looked over at Bob, who¡ªpredictably¡ªwas sniffing the air, distracted by the faint smell of soup drifting from a food tent.


    Classic.


    But his mind wandered back to the start. Back to Bob.


    People used to call him King of Cowards.


    Not to his face. Well... okay, once. But Bob had been there, so it worked out.


    They''d known each other forever.


    Back in grade school, Gabe had noticed Bob right away. Hard not to¡ªhe was the biggest kid by a mile. Quiet, simple, never causing trouble. Just... there, like some big, harmless mountain.


    A gentle giant. Didn¡¯t talk much. Didn¡¯t try to make friends. He just existed, like some big, quiet mountain.


    Gabe had always loved arguing. As a kid, it wasn¡¯t just about being right¡ªhalf the time, he didn¡¯t even care if he was. He just liked the back-and-forth, the challenge of proving a point, the thrill of making someone second-guess themselves. Most of the time, it was harmless. Other times? It ended in a fight. Not because Gabe wanted to throw punches, but because arguing had a way of riling people up. And once tempers flared, it was only a matter of time before someone took a swing.


    That was usually when Bob stepped in.


    Not by fighting. He didn¡¯t have to. All it took was him standing there¡ªtowering, steady, completely unbothered. Just watching. Most kids took one look at him and decided that maybe, just maybe, this wasn¡¯t worth it. And for the few who still thought they had something to prove? Bob would sigh, roll his shoulders, and take a step forward.


    That was usually the end of it.


    But it wasn¡¯t just fights.


    Like the time Gabe hid under his bed during a thunderstorm, convinced the world was ending, and Bob just sat there with him, telling the dumbest jokes he could think of until the thunder faded.


    Or the time some older kids tried to take his lunch money, and Bob solved the problem by eating their lunch instead.


    Or every time Gabe got in over his head, ran his mouth too much, or backed himself into a corner he couldn¡¯t talk his way out of¡ªBob was there. Not always saying much. Not always doing much. Just there.


    But the worst was high school.


    Gabe got himself into real trouble then.


    There was a girl. The kind of girl everyone noticed. Problem was, she belonged to a local gang leader. And Gabe? Well, he didn¡¯t care. Or maybe he cared too much.


    They warned him off.


    So Gabe doubled down.


    Maybe it wasn¡¯t even about the girl. Maybe it was just the challenge.


    The gang made good on their threats.


    First it was just missing homework and flipped chairs. Then bruises. Black eyes. Split lips.


    He tried telling the school. Teachers brushed it off.


    ¡°Boys will be boys.¡±


    ¡°Just playing rough.¡±


    Gabe thought about quitting. He¡¯d sit in his room, wondering if it was even worth showing up anymore.


    Then Bob stepped in.


    No speeches. No threats. Just action.


    One by one, Bob took out the gang members. Nobody even knew how he did it exactly. They¡¯d show up to school limping or refusing to make eye contact with anyone. By the end of the week, the bullying stopped entirely.


    Gabe didn¡¯t ask questions. He didn¡¯t need to.


    The girl? Turned out she was dating someone long-distance and transferred abroad shortly after.


    Classic.


    But Gabe never forgot what Bob did.


    ---


    And now, here they were.


    Even after the meteor.


    The fog.


    The end of everything.


    And he was still following Bob.


    Because, honestly? There was nowhere else to go.


    Sure, Gabe had parents. Rich ones. His dad ran businesses across several countries. His mom managed the international accounts. They were abroad when the meteor hit, and reports said they were fine. Safe. For now.


    But with the skies shut down and the oceans cut off? There were no flights. No way home.


    And Gabe?


    An only child.


    Alone, if not for Bob.


    Bob, who lived just down the street.


    Bob, who didn''t ask questions.


    Bob, who just dragged him along like it was normal to adopt the lonely rich kid who couldn¡¯t throw a ball straight.


    It had always been like that.


    So he stayed.


    Because where else would he go?


    And Gabe following close behind, the self-declared brains of the operation... though honestly, he was just grateful to be alive.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Gabe said, nudging Bob as they walked. ¡°Thanks, by the way.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°For... you know. Everything.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re friends. That¡¯s what we do.¡±


    And just like that, the conversation ended.


    Simple as always.


    But for Gabe, that was enough.


    ---


    They walked quietly through the district, the crowd parting around them, whispers trailing in their wake.


    Two guys who¡¯d gone into the Pink Fog and actually come back.


    And now?


    They were about to do it again.


    ¡°Hey, Bob,¡± Gabe muttered, scanning the edges of the Safe Zone.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I think we need a plan. A real one.¡±


    Bob scratched his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Okay. But can it wait? I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    Gabe groaned. ¡°Of course you are.¡±


    Even at the end of the world, some things never changed.


    And just like that, the King of Cowards followed the Goliath straight back toward the edge of the fog, this time not to fight, not to explore¡ª


    But to find food.


    This time, people watched in disbelief as Bob and Gabe prepared to head back into the fog, like it was just another trip to the store.


    Because while everyone else was trying to survive inside the Safe Zone...


    Bob was already thinking about dinner.

 Chapter 5 – Campus Bell in Distress

    The Pink Fog hovered at the edge of the Safe Zone, shifting and swirling as if waiting for someone to step in. Bob stood there casually, arms crossed, like he was waiting for a bus.


    Meanwhile, Gabe was pacing in circles behind him.


    "Alright... come on... any second now..." Gabe muttered under his breath, staring down at his hands. The first time he transformed, it had taken what felt like half a day. But this time? His body already tingled with that familiar heat. The fog seeped through his lungs, coiling into his bloodstream like smoke filling an empty house.


    And then it hit.


    The shift was quicker, sharper, and cleaner. His bones cracked, feathers sprouted down his arms, and within moments, the man was gone, replaced by a sleek, silver griffin.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Gabe said, flexing his wings as if trying on a new jacket. ¡°Quicker than last time. By, like... an hour? That''s gotta mean something, right?¡±


    Bob just shrugged. ¡°Ready?¡±


    Gabe sighed, stretching his wings. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Let¡¯s go find some food before I pass out.¡±


    They started walking, but after a few blocks into the fog, the distant sound of screaming cut through the silence.


    Gabe slowed. ¡°Uh¡­ did you hear that?¡±


    ---


    The deeper they moved into the fog, the thicker the noise became.


    First came the growls. Deep, guttural, and hungry.


    Then the snarls.


    And finally, the screams.


    Human screams.


    They ran toward the sound without hesitation.


    The moment they turned the corner, the street exploded into chaos.


    A pack of dire wolves circled the crumbling building, their massive, matted bodies weaving through the Pink Fog like sharks around a sinking ship. Between them, werewolves stalked on two legs¡ªtaller, leaner, their claws scraping the ground as they waited for the perfect moment to strike.


    And in the middle of it all, bleeding and cornered, was a Valkyrie.


    Her once-shining silver armor was now dented and smeared with dirt and blood, the elegant engravings barely visible beneath the grime. From her back stretched a pair of


    large, ethereal wings, feathers like shimmering steel, though many had been torn or ripped out in the chaos. A Valkyrie¡ªa figure pulled straight from ancient myths, a warrior said to descend from the heavens to carry fallen heroes to the afterlife. But this wasn¡¯t some ancient battlefield. This was the apocalypse, and this Valkyrie wasn''t guiding the dead¡ªshe was fighting to stay among the living.


    Her long hair, normally tied back in a soldier''s knot, whipped around her face in the thick fog, damp and sticky with sweat. In her hands, what remained of her spear¡ªa golden weapon now snapped in half¡ªwas gripped tight, the jagged end doubling as a desperate blade. Sparks of faint, radiant energy still flickered along the broken tip, but the power was fading fast.


    Her breathing was ragged. Cuts and claw marks lined her arms and legs, and blood dripped steadily from a deep wound across her shoulder. Her wings, powerful as they were, drooped low¡ªtoo damaged to take flight again.


    And yet, even as the dire wolves and werewolves snapped at her from all sides, circling like vultures, The Valkyrie stood her ground.


    A Valkyrie was meant to be the last one standing.


    And she wasn¡¯t going to fall without a fight.


    Gabe flapped his wings. "That¡¯s her! We gotta move, now!"


    Bob cracked his knuckles, already stepping forward. "Alright... let''s play."


    Before Gabe could even reply, Bob grabbed the rear bumper of an abandoned car beside him. With one grunt, he yanked the entire vehicle off the street like it weighed nothing and hurled it into the nearest cluster of wolves.


    The car flew end over end.


    CRASH.


    It flattened two dire wolves on impact, sending debris flying into the fog. The others barely had time to react before Bob scooped up another car, this one a crumpled taxi, and sent it spiraling toward the werewolves gathering on the left flank.


    BOOM!


    "Okay!" Gabe shouted. "We¡¯re doing cars now. Sure!"


    One werewolf darted around the wreckage and leapt at Bob''s back. Before it could sink its claws in, Gabe swooped down from above, his talons raking deep across its shoulders as he lifted it into the air.


    ¡°Going up!¡± Gabe shouted, flapping hard. At about twenty feet high, he let go.


    The werewolf hit the pavement headfirst with a thud and didn¡¯t get up again.


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    But the rest of the pack didn¡¯t flinch. Two werewolves lunged at Bob from behind, slamming into his back with enough force to send him stumbling forward. One wolf might not have been enough, but two? Even Bob had to grunt.


    "Alright, alright," Bob growled, shrugging them off. "You''re annoying."


    One of the wolves snapped at his leg, teeth sinking into his calf. Bob winced, grabbed the thing by the scruff of its neck, and threw it into the side of a bus stop shelter, shattering the glass.


    Meanwhile, Gabe spotted another werewolf preparing to leap off a nearby rooftop.


    "Gimme a sec!" Gabe shouted.


    He flew toward a mangled iron gate, ripped a row of spike bars loose, and jammed them upright into the cracked concrete below.


    "Bob, toss him here!" Gabe yelled, pointing at the leaping werewolf.


    Bob didn''t even look. He caught the creature mid-air, twisted, and hurled it straight down toward Gabe''s trap.


    The werewolf landed chest-first onto the spikes with a wet crunch.


    "Perfect aim!" Gabe grinned. "Man, we''re good at this!"


    Another dire wolf charged Gabe from below, trying to leap up and catch him mid-flight. Gabe, thinking fast, grabbed a length of fallen electrical wiring from a nearby pole and looped it around the creature¡¯s neck as it jumped.


    "Whoa there, big guy!" Gabe yanked hard, the makeshift leash snapping the wolf mid-air and slamming it back into the pavement.


    It thrashed wildly, trying to bite through the wires, but the tangled mess kept it from dodging as Bob lumbered over.


    "Hold it still," Bob said.


    Gabe tightened the grip. "All yours!"


    Bob¡¯s fist came down like a sledgehammer.


    One punch.


    The wolf''s skull caved in, pink fragments scattering like marbles across the ground.


    Bob scooped a few up and popped them into his mouth like snacks between rounds.


    "Mmm... crunchy."


    "Seriously?" Gabe groaned, wiping sweat from his brow. "Mid-fight?"


    Bob shrugged. "Hungry."


    ---


    The Valkyrie, forgotten for the moment, blinked as she watched the two of them work. She''d been ready to fight, ready to die if it came to it. But now?


    She just stood there, dazed, blade dangling uselessly in her hand.


    What... were these two?


    They weren''t fighting like people surviving.


    They were fighting like people having fun.


    Every time she tried to step forward to help, another monster fell. Every time she thought the tide might turn, one of them did something insane¡ªlike the part where Bob uprooted a traffic light pole, swung it like a baseball bat, and knocked three wolves aside in one wide, arcing sweep.


    CLANG.


    Three bodies hit the ground.


    Fragments scattered.


    Bob casually stomped on a wolf''s tail as it tried to crawl away, finishing it off with a second swing of the pole.


    "Any more?" Bob called out, glancing around like someone might schedule the next batch.


    Gabe landed beside him, feathers ruffled but mostly intact.


    "I think that was all of them." He looked around at the carnage. "Jeez... I thought we were supposed to die in this fight."


    Bob popped another fragment into his mouth and shrugged. "Easy."


    Silence fell.


    The Valkyrie fell to her knees, exhausted, still clutching her side.


    The last dire wolf collapsed in a heap, its body twitching once before going still. The street finally fell quiet except for the sound of heavy breathing and the distant hum of the


    Safe Zone barrier.


    The Valkyrie leaned against the broken wall, clutching her side. Blood dripped from her shoulder, and her face was pale, but her eyes stayed sharp as she stared at the two strangers who just saved her life.


    "Who... who are you guys?" she managed between breaths. "That... that was insane. You saved me."


    Bob just blinked at her, cracking his knuckles lazily as if he hadn''t just wiped out a small army of monsters.


    Gabe, ever the diplomat, gave a small bow. "Just a couple of guys passing through. Try not to die out here next time."


    The Valkyrie coughed a laugh, shaking her head. "I owe you. Seriously. Whatever I have¡ªif we make it back to the Safe Zone alive, name it. I''ll get you something as thanks."


    Bob perked up immediately.


    "Food," he said without hesitation.


    The Valkyrie squinted. "...Food?"


    "Lots of it," Bob added. "Noodles, if you got ''em."


    Gabe rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Honestly... yeah, food sounds good. We haven''t eaten since morning."


    "Yeah," Bob said with a shrug. "I''m hungry."


    The Valkyrie smirked weakly. "Consider it done. You''ve got yourself a feast if we make it back."


    And as they crossed back into the Safe Zone, leaving behind a street full of broken bodies and glowing fragments, the Valkyrie couldn¡¯t stop staring at them.


    Especially Bob.


    Even if she were at full strength...There was no way she could have done what he just did.


    ---


    And then, as they finally crossed back into the glow of the Safe Zone and the fog fell away from their bodies, the Valkyrie paused.


    Bob, already shrinking back to his human form as they crossed back into the Safe Zone¡¯s edge, wiped his hands on his pants like this had all been completely normal.


    ¡°That was a lot of them,¡± Gabe finally said, landing beside Bob, chest heaving. ¡°First real group fight, huh?¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Could¡¯ve been more.¡±


    Of course.


    The woman finally looked up at them, brow furrowing as their transformations fully faded.


    Her eyes lingered on Bob, and after a few seconds, she squinted, tilting her head.


    "...Wait. I know you."


    "You''re Bob, right? From my old school? The quiet guy who was... well... huge?"


    Before Bob could say anything, Gabe snapped his fingers, pointing at her in surprise.


    "Hold on! You''re Iris! The campus bell! I knew I recognized you!"


    Iris gave a tired laugh. "Yeah... that''s me."


    It was hard not to notice her, even now. Long, flowing hair that somehow still looked good despite the end of the world, sharp brown eyes that didn¡¯t miss much, and a figure that made it obvious why every brand wanted her face on their ads back in school. She wasn¡¯t just pretty¡ªshe had that effortless kind of beauty that made people stop and stare. But the dirt on her cheeks and the scratches on her arms? Those said she hadn¡¯t been living off compliments lately.


    Bob scratched his head, completely uninterested. "Cool. Anyway, about that food?"


    Iris blinked, thrown off by the complete lack of context. "Uh... yeah. Sure. I did promise you a meal."


    Gabe stepped forward, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. "Sorry about him. He''s always like this." He extended a hand to her. "I''m Gabe. We were in the same year, but... we never really talked."


    Recognition lit in Iris''s tired eyes. "Right... I remember seeing you around. Thanks for the help back there."


    "No problem," Gabe said with a small smile. "We couldn¡¯t just let you get torn apart."


    Bob was already starting to walk ahead, completely unconcerned. "Are we eating, or what?"


    Iris glanced at Gabe, half amused, half confused.


    "He¡¯s serious about the food, huh?"


    "You have no idea," Gabe sighed.


    Bob shrugged. "Hungry."


    Iris shook her head, laughing despite herself. "Good thing you saved the right person, then. I work as one of the district¡¯s protectors. I can get you both set up with food, no problem."


    Gabe raised a brow. "Protector?"


    "Yeah," Iris said. "With the fog cutting us off from everything, we still need people to go out for supplies. That¡¯s what we do¡ªescort runs into the fog, keep the creatures off the citizens while they gather what we need. It¡¯s dangerous work, but someone¡¯s gotta keep this place running."


    Bob nodded thoughtfully, though it was unclear if he cared more about her job or the food attached to the reward.


    "Food first," he said.


    "Deal," Iris said, shaking her head. "After what you two just did out there, you deserve it."


    And just like that, Bob was already walking ahead, as if they hadn¡¯t just fought a small army of monsters, his mind set entirely on dinner.


    Gabe sighed. "Unbelievable."


    Because no matter how many monsters they fought, how many lives they saved, or how bad the world got...


    Bob stayed Bob.


    And dinner came first.

 Chapter 6 – Iris and the Shattered Crown

    Iris watched as Bob and Gabe devoured plate after plate like starved wolves at an all-you-can-eat buffet. It wasn¡¯t just eating¡ªit was an all-out war against hunger.


    Well, to be fair¡­ since the meteor fell, Bob had been forced to survive on scraps, instant noodles, and whatever he could steal off Gabe¡¯s plate. This was probably the first real meal he¡¯d had in forever.


    She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, half-listening to the idle chatter between them. Mostly, it was Bob asking for seconds. And thirds. And ¡°whatever you got left in the kitchen.¡±


    But Iris wasn¡¯t really paying attention to the food.


    It was their faces.


    These two... She''d recognized them the moment they stepped into the Safe Zone. Not during the fight¡ªthat was all chaos and survival. But sitting here, in the warm lights of the district, their faces finally clean of the fog and grime... yeah. She knew them.


    Same school. Same hallways. Years ago now.


    She had seen them before¡ªBob and Gabe, always bickering over something stupid, laughing like they had nothing to worry about. Always happy, always chill, like the world couldn¡¯t touch them. While she was balancing grades, social status, and career prospects, they were goofing off, skipping class, or arguing over which snack from the vending machine was superior. It was infuriating back then. Maybe a little enviable now.


    Back then, Iris was the campus bell. Every guy knew her name, every girl wanted to be her friend. Not that she came from money or power, but people loved to orbit her. Smiles. Favors. People eager to impress her, to get her attention. Sponsors came knocking before she even graduated. Commercials, magazine spreads, small TV roles.


    It all felt like a dream at the time. Like she was floating above everyone else.


    And then it crashed.


    Hard.


    Her family got tangled in the wrong circles. Quiet deals. Dirty money. Corrupt officials. Suddenly, those same sponsors who once begged for her time were cutting ties overnight. Every contract dropped. Every ad pulled.


    She thought someone would reach out. A friend. A connection. Anyone.


    But instead, the only hand she grabbed onto was the one that shoved her deeper into the pit.


    A man she thought was helping her¡ªhe¡¯d seemed so kind, so supportive¡ªdrugged her drink one night. She barely escaped, running barefoot into the street. But when she tried to expose him?


    He crushed her.


    Spun the story so fast that even she almost believed it.


    "Iris, the actress turned drug dealer."


    That¡¯s what the headlines said.


    And just like that, she lost everything.


    Her parents fled back to the countryside to hide from the shame. Iris traded red carpets for a desk job in an office where no one dared to meet her eyes. She kept her head down. Ate cheap lunches alone. Pretended none of it ever happened.


    Until the sky fell.


    When the meteor came and the Pink Fog swallowed the world, Iris didn¡¯t hesitate like the others. For most people, it was the end. But for her?


    It felt like an opportunity.


    A chance to rewrite everything.


    The day the meteor fragments rained down, Iris was stuck at her cramped office job, tapping through spreadsheets no one cared about in a building no one would remember. The same boring routine, the same whispers behind her back, the same pitiful looks people thought she didn¡¯t notice.


    She''d been looking out the window when it happened. Bright streaks tearing through the sky like someone ripping the world in half.


    Everyone around her panicked. People screamed. Her manager bolted for the stairs. Co-workers grabbed their bags and fled for the exits.


    "Iris, come on! We have to go!" someone had shouted, tugging her arm.


    But she¡¯d already made her decision.


    ¡°No,¡± she said, shaking them off. ¡°I¡¯m staying.¡±


    Because while everyone else ran, Iris stood by the window and watched.


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    When the fog rolled in the next morning, turning the streets below into a sea of pink mist, Iris didn¡¯t waste time. While others hid, barricaded doors, and prayed someone else would fix things, she walked outside.


    No second thoughts.


    No fear.


    She hadn''t heard from her family since Day One. The phones went dead. Messages never delivered. For all she knew, they were gone. But she couldn¡¯t afford to look back anymore.


    Not when the world was giving her this.


    A new stage.


    A new role.


    She was one of the first to step into the fog.


    And one of the first to transform.


    Where others screamed, lost themselves, or turned into mindless beasts, Iris became something more. A Valkyrie¡ªwings of silver, armor like moonlight, a spear pulled straight from the fog itself.


    And when the chaos settled, the people who survived started looking to her.


    For protection.


    For strength.


    For hope.


    And this time, Iris wasn¡¯t going to let anyone take that away from her.


    But now, watching Bob from across the table as he inhaled his fourth helping, something strange stirred inside her.


    Admiration.


    No... more than that.


    She¡¯d fought monsters. She¡¯d pushed herself to the brink. But this man¡ªthe way he tore through those wolves without hesitation, like the fog itself didn¡¯t exist¡ªhe made the impossible look simple.


    Effortless.


    And Gabe too. She remembered him now. Always hanging around Bob like a little shadow. Smarter than he looked, clearly. But Bob... there was something different. Something bigger.


    Iris tapped her fingers on the table, eyes narrowing slightly as Bob shoved another dumpling into his mouth like it was the highlight of his day.


    Strength. That¡¯s what she admired. Real strength.


    The kind that doesn¡¯t waver, even when the sky is falling.


    And sitting here, watching him eat like the end of the world was just an excuse for an extra meal, Iris felt something solidify inside her.


    A decision she hadn¡¯t realized she was already making.


    Because if the strong survived this new world...Then she wasn¡¯t going to just survive.


    She was going to be stronger.


    Stronger than the wolves.Stronger than the fog.Strong enough that no one could ever take anything from her again.


    And maybe... just maybe... sticking close to these two wasn¡¯t such a bad start.


    The meal had settled in, and for the first time since the world went sideways, things felt¡­ still.


    Iris leaned forward on the table, resting her chin on her hand as she watched the two of them. Bob leaned back, hands on his stomach, satisfied. Gabe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking equally as stuffed.


    "So," Iris started, breaking the quiet. "What exactly are you two planning to do now?"


    Bob blinked. "Do?"


    "Yeah. You know... plans. Goals. Future."


    Bob scratched the back of his head like the question itself was a puzzle. "Check on Grandpa sometimes. Find food when I''m hungry."


    Gabe leaned his elbow on the table, adding, "Yeah, his grandpa''s stuck in the hospital for now. They¡¯re still running tests. Might need to stay a while."


    Bob nodded. "Yeah. Doctor said they wanna be sure he¡¯s okay. So... I check on him. Then eat."


    Gabe sighed. "And repeat forever, apparently."


    Iris blinked at them, like she was waiting for the actual plan. But nope. That was it.


    Iris nearly choked. "That¡¯s it? Seriously? That¡¯s your grand plan for surviving the end of the world?"


    Bob shrugged. "What else is there?"


    Gabe leaned back in his chair. "Hey, surviving is surviving."


    Iris sat back, almost laughing. Almost. But as she glanced between the two of them, something deeper settled in her chest.


    This isn''t it. It can''t be.


    If these two were really as strong as they''d shown today, if they were the rare gold the fog couldn''t melt, they shouldn''t just be wasting away between noodle runs.


    Gold had to be tested by fire.


    And there was so much fire left in this world.


    To Iris, they weren¡¯t just two guys who happened to walk through the fog. They were an opportunity. Maybe the last one she''d ever get.


    She tapped her fingers on the table, thinking fast.


    "Alright... what if I gave you something better to do?" she asked, her voice smooth but purposeful.


    Bob glanced over. "Like what?"


    "My parents," Iris said. "Haven¡¯t heard from them since the meteor. They''re probably stuck in another district, maybe further. I¡¯ve been wanting to go check on them, but... it¡¯s dangerous. It¡¯ll take passing through multiple Pink Fog zones, fighting through who knows what. Not something I can do alone."


    She saw Gabe''s eyes narrow, already suspicious.


    But Iris smiled. "Here''s the deal. You two help me. Travel with me, fight with me, help me get to my family. In return, the district takes care of your grandpa. Full support. He won¡¯t need a thing. I¡¯ll personally make sure of it. And I¡¯ll handle food for us on the road. Supplies, meals, you name it."


    Bob sat up straighter at the word food.


    "You can cook?"


    Iris smirked. "Yeah. Grew up in the kitchen before any of that acting stuff. You like stew? I make a killer one."


    Bob nodded. "Alright. I''m in."


    Gabe nearly fell out of his chair. "Wait, that''s it? That¡¯s the whole negotiation? Food and you¡¯re sold?"


    Bob shrugged. "If we¡¯re going far... someone''s gotta cook."


    He glanced at Gabe. "You can¡¯t."


    Gabe pointed at himself. "Excuse me?"


    Bob tilted his head. "When¡¯s the last time you made anything that wasn¡¯t an online order?"


    "...That¡¯s fair."


    And just like that, without any of the deep thought Iris had expected, the strongest man she''d ever met was on board.


    She blinked at him. "That¡¯s... really all you needed?"


    Bob stood, stretching his arms. "Yeah. Sounds good. Let¡¯s save your parents. And eat."


    Gabe groaned. "Man, we¡¯re really doing this, huh?"


    Iris couldn¡¯t help the smile creeping onto her face.


    She¡¯d thought the world had taken everything from her.


    Maybe this was her chance to finally take something back.


    And just like that, the three of them¡ªan ex-celebrity, a living tank, and a feathered nerd¡ªbegan a journey that would take them farther than any of them expected.


    And in Iris mind, one thought echoed loudest:


    I won¡¯t lose what I build this time. Not again.

 Chapter 7 – When the Fog Feeds Back

    Leaving District 2 was supposed to be simple. Just walk out and move on.


    Instead, here they were, piling sacks of supplies onto a wooden cart like some medieval caravan setting off on a cross-country journey.


    What started as ¡°let''s check on Grandpa and find food¡± had somehow turned into becoming supply runners for an entire district.


    ¡°Farming,¡± Iris said, tightening the ropes around another sack of fertilizer. ¡°District 2''s leaders want self-sufficiency. If we can¡¯t grow our own food, we¡¯re finished.¡±


    She tapped the folded map resting on the cart. District 2¡¯s leaders had marked it carefully¡ªevery known warehouse within range, the ones still standing, and the ones rumored to still have farming equipment or leftover supplies. It saved them the hassle of checking every random building inside the fog one by one.


    Their job was clear: head to the marked warehouses, gather whatever was left, bring it back. The citizens of District 2 would handle the actual farming setup.


    And, truthfully, none of this was part of the original plan.


    But Iris had made her pitch.


    ¡°If we¡¯re going to keep diving into the fog in the future, we can¡¯t just ¡®survive¡¯¡ªwe need to get stronger,¡± she¡¯d told them. ¡°The creatures out there are getting worse. The fog¡¯s changing people faster. If we don¡¯t improve, we¡¯ll end up just like the others¡­ dead or mindless. These supply runs are the perfect chance to train, test what we can do, and work as a team before we run into something we can¡¯t handle.¡±


    Bob had shrugged, unimpressed. ¡°As long as there¡¯s food.¡±


    And Gabe? Well, after some grumbling, he had to admit she had a point.


    ¡°We¡¯re just the delivery crew,¡± Gabe added now, strapping down the last of the spare toolkits. He wiped sweat from his forehead and shot a look at Bob. ¡°And, apparently, the muscle.¡±


    The ¡°muscle¡± just nodded.


    Gabe sighed, transforming into his griffin form with an exaggerated groan. "And why am I the one pulling this thing?"


    "Four legs," Bob answered flatly.


    "I swear, that''s not how this works!"


    "You want me to do it?" Iris offered, hands on her hips.


    Gabe glanced between the cart, the supplies, and Bob¡ªwho looked like he might accidentally tear the cart in half just by sneezing. "Fine. Whatever. I''ll be the horse."


    And so, the griffin pulled the cart while the Goliath and the Valkyrie walked behind like royalty.


    After several trips in and out of the Pink Fog, hauling load after load back to District 2, they finally managed to gather enough supplies to kick-start the farming project. It wasn¡¯t just one big haul¡ªit was days of back-and-forth, they didn¡¯t rush to gather everything in one go¡ªthere was no point. The fog wasn¡¯t going anywhere, and they were smart enough to return to the Safe Zone between runs before the madness could take hold. Little by little, they collected everything the district needed to give farming a real shot.


    It was finally time for their well-deserved rest. As Iris leaned back, exhaustion settling deep into her bones, her mind wandered over the past few days. What a blur. What felt like a simple mission on paper¡ªgathering tools, seeds, and sacks of fertilizer¡ªhad been anything but. Every trip into the Pink Fog was a gamble. Every warehouse run meant another fight. Another chase. Another close call.


    Because the fog was never empty.


    Creatures lurked in the shadows. Twisted monsters. Mindless wanderers who used to be people. Packs of nightmare beasts that never stopped prowling. And from time to time, there were still those half-sane transformed humans¡ªterritorial, desperate, and just lucid enough to be dangerous.


    So, every trip became a balance between scavenging and survival.


    She and Gabe did most of the actual gathering, carefully loading up the cart with seeds, tools, and equipment. A lot of it was delicate¡ªsolar water pumps, fragile bags of chemical fertilizer, old irrigation parts scavenged from destroyed farms. Stuff that would snap like twigs if the wrong set of hands touched it.


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    Which is why Bob, in all his towering Goliath form, wasn¡¯t allowed anywhere near the loading process.


    His job was simple.


    Guard the cart.


    Which mostly meant standing around looking like a mountain and getting bored out of his mind.


    Until something decided to attack.


    Then his job got interesting real fast.


    Every trip through the fog, they had to fight. Sometimes it was goblins. Other times, dire wolves. Once, a twisted, three-headed lion tried to take the entire cart with it.


    And every time something charged at them, Bob flattened it.


    That¡¯s how they collected more pink fragments than they knew what to do with. Every dead creature left behind a few, and while Iris and Gabe stored theirs for later, Bob popped his like snacks whenever the boredom got too heavy.


    Standing there with his arms crossed, waiting for the next ambush, he''d occasionally lift a fragment to his mouth and crunch down like it was a bag of chips.


    "Bob, maybe slow down on those," Gabe warned once.


    It became routine. Gather supplies. Smash monsters. Pocket fragments. Repeat.


    They stayed near District 2 for days, not just to collect what they needed, but to train. To sharpen their teamwork. They rotated who scouted, who hauled gear, who kept watch. They practiced quick retreats and ambush tactics.


    Because they knew this was only the beginning.


    And it was during one of these trips that Gabe noticed something strange.


    Gabe glanced down at the pink fragment hanging from his neck¡ªa trophy from one of their earlier fights. But now¡­ it wasn¡¯t as bright as before. The once-vibrant glow had dulled, and the shard itself looked thinner, like it was slowly being whittled away.


    He rubbed his thumb over it. Smaller. Dimmer. Lighter.


    ¡°Huh,¡± he muttered, lifting it toward the faint light bleeding through the fog. ¡°It¡¯s... shrinking.¡±


    Iris checked the fragment tucked beneath her collar, her brows furrowing deeply. Same thing. Duller. Thinner. Definitely smaller.


    ¡°They¡¯re being absorbed,¡± she said, her voice quiet with realization. ¡°Our bodies are pulling them in. The longer we stay in the fog... the more they sink into us.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t long before they noticed the pattern. The fragments only shrank while they were inside the Pink Fog. Back in the Safe Zone, the process stopped completely. But out here? The fog made sure the fragments never went to waste.


    And for once, Bob didn¡¯t look happy about it.


    While Gabe and Iris inspected their fragments, Bob stared longingly at the pile of pink shards they¡¯d collected from defeated creatures. His usual stash. His snacks. What used to be his private supply.


    Now, every piece mattered to all of them.


    Which meant... sharing.


    Gabe clapped him on the back with a grin. ¡°Tough break, big guy. Looks like we¡¯re all eating now.¡±


    Bob scowled, his gaze drifting between the growing pile and his teammates.


    ¡°My snacks...¡± he muttered under his breath.


    Iris smirked. ¡°Relax. You still have your share, right?¡±


    Bob let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Ugh... my favorite snacks,¡± he groaned, like someone had just taken candy from a kid.


    Gabe laughed. ¡°Guess the apocalypse hits everyone differently.¡±


    ---


    After nearly a full day of rest, Iris, Gabe, and Bob decided it was time to move. As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, they stepped back into the Pink Fog. Their destination? The next city over. Just the first stop in what would be a long journey. It wasn¡¯t close, and timing would be everything. Stay too long in the fog, and they''d end up just like the creatures lurking inside it.


    The most important rule was simple: Stay in the fog too long, and it takes everything.


    Your body. Your mind. Until there¡¯s nothing left but a monster craving the next fight.


    So, they made a promise.


    For every hour they thought they could handle, they¡¯d leave at least an hour early to recover inside a Safe Zone.


    No exceptions.


    Their journey was only beginning.


    And the Pink Fog wasn¡¯t about to make it easy.


    Because waiting for them just up ahead...Was an entire tribe of lizardfolk.


    They hadn''t even made it two blocks into the fog before trouble found them.


    The first hiss echoed from the ruins of a collapsed storefront. Gabe''s ears twitched, his griffin eyes narrowing. "We''ve got company," he warned from above, circling on silent wings.


    They slithered out from the pink fog, emerald scales glinting under the faint, unnatural light. They were tall, lean but muscular, walking upright with long, thick tails dragging behind for balance. Clawed fingers flexed as they eyed the cart like a prize. Their yellow eyes gleamed, slit pupils narrowing like knives.


    Lizardfolk.


    Or as Gabe whispered from above, ¡°Great. Just what we needed. Fogged-up geckos.¡±


    They weren¡¯t mindless monsters. The way they moved¡ªcircling, testing the group¡¯s defenses, clicking low in their throats to each other¡ªit was clear they had some sanity left. Enough to hunt together.


    There were at least a dozen of them, maybe more slipping through the fog behind the first wave.


    Iris stepped forward, her spear materializing from the dense fog. "They''re trying to surround us."


    Bob cracked his knuckles. "Good. Saves me the steps."


    The first lizardfolk lunged, claws flashing straight for Bob¡¯s throat. Bob sidestepped, grabbed the thing midair by the tail, spun it twice over his head, and launched it like a living battering ram into three others trying to flank from the left. They crashed together in a pile of limbs and scales.


    "Bob!" Gabe shouted from overhead. "Right side!"


    Bob turned, but a second too late. Something slashed across his shoulder, sharp and fast¡ªfour glowing pink lines tearing through his skin.


    Bob staggered back.


    Gabe''s voice cracked through the fog. "Bob...?"


    And then the lizardfolk lunged again.

 Chapter 8 – Sly, the Man Nobody Wanted

    The lizardfolk lunged again.


    Bob grunted. "Ow."


    "That¡¯s it?" Gabe called. "Just ''ow''?"


    Bob shrugged. "I''ll get him back."


    And he did. Bob ripped a tire from the wreckage and hurled it with his left hand like a discus. It smacked straight into the lizardfolk''s face, sending it flipping backward into the fog.


    "Nice throw!" Gabe called. "Now duck!"


    Bob dropped low just as Gabe swooped in, his talons tearing into another lizardfolk trying to flank Iris. With a heavy beat of his wings, Gabe lifted the creature into the air and dropped it onto a jagged section of an old fence. The spikes punched through its body like butter.


    "That one''s done," Gabe muttered.


    But there was no time to rest. Two more lizardfolk leapt at Bob from behind, their jaws snapping. Bob elbowed the first square in the face, but the second clamped its teeth into Bob''s arm. Bob shook it off and slammed it into the pavement hard enough to leave a crater, but blood dripped down his forearm from shallow bite marks.


    "Seriously?" Bob muttered, shaking his arm. "Now I''m just getting annoyed."


    Iris was a blur beside him, locked in her own elegant dance of steel and fog. One lizardfolk came at her with a jagged blade. Iris blocked, twisted, and drove her spear through its gut before spinning to disarm another. Every move was precise, a one-on-one duel where she never wasted a single motion.


    "Focus right!" Gabe shouted from above. "They''re pushing the flank!"


    Bob responded by grabbing a crumbled section of wall from a collapsed building and hurling it like a massive brick. It smashed into the advancing lizardfolk, flattening two of them in an explosion of dust and scales.


    "Showoff," Gabe muttered as he flew higher.


    More came from above, crawling over a wrecked car. Gabe spotted them first. "Incoming!" he warned. He dove down, yanked a twisted metal gate from the ground, and flung it like a net over the climbing lizardfolk. With a quick swoop, he slammed the whole mess back onto the ground.


    "Bob!" Gabe shouted. "Finish it!"


    Bob obliged, stomping over and crushing the pile with one massive foot. The pavement cracked beneath the force.


    Another hiss. Another lizardfolk charged at Bob from the side. Bob spun, grabbed it midair, and used it as a living club to knock back two more.


    "Resourceful," Iris muttered, impressed.


    Gabe swooped again, sending a whirlwind of debris into the faces of another group, blinding them just long enough for Bob to pick up a rusted car door and frisbee it into the fog, knocking two more down.


    By the time the dust settled, the street was littered with broken bodies and shattered scales.


    Bob rolled his shoulder, blood trickling down his arm from the earlier bite. "Think that''s all of ''em?"


    Iris wiped her spear clean. "For now."


    Gabe landed beside them, glancing at Bob''s wounds. "You good?"


    "Scratches. I''ve had worse falling out of bed."


    Iris shook her head, half in awe, half in disbelief. "You''re insane."


    Bob grinned. "Nah, just hungry."


    And just like that, the cart creaked forward again, the trio pressing deeper into the fog as if a dozen dead lizardfolk was just a warm-up.


    They pressed on until they neared the next Safe Zone. That¡¯s when Gabe spotted it from the sky.


    From time to time, Gabe unlatched himself from the cart''s harness, stretching his wings wide before launching into the air. It had become part of their routine¡ªwhile Bob guarded the cart and Iris scouted ahead on foot, Gabe would take to the skies to survey the path ahead. He made sure they weren''t walking straight into a horde of creatures or getting boxed in by collapsing buildings. After each pass, he''d swoop back down, reconnect himself to the cart with a grumble, and keep pulling like the world''s most reluctant draft animal. It wasn''t glamorous, but it worked¡ªand someone had to keep the supplies moving.


    "Guys... we¡¯ve got a problem."


    Gabe''s voice was low, serious. He glided down from above, landing softly beside Bob and Iris as they followed his gaze toward a narrow alley ahead.


    The moment they approached, the stench hit them first¡ªstale fog thickening in the cramped space, mixed with rust, old smoke, and something sour. The alley was half-choked with rubble and broken glass, like the fog itself had swept in and torn the place apart before leaving it to rot.


    And there, pinned against a shattered wall, was a young boy. Skinny. Tired. Out of breath. He looked barely old enough to be out here alone. His wide eyes darted between the four figures closing in on him, each one looming, transformed just enough to be dangerous¡ªscaled arms, yellow glowing eyes, claws glinting under the weak light.


    They weren¡¯t mindless creatures¡ªjust the opposite. Still sane, fully aware, and using the chaos of the Pink Fog to hunt one of their own. In some ways, that made them worse than the monsters.


    And these weren¡¯t just any transformed thugs either.


    The tallest of the group stood at the front, a Minotaur¡ªor something close to one. Thick, bull-like horns curled from his forehead, his skin a leathery gray, muscles bulging through torn clothes. Heavy hooves crushed the debris underfoot as he flexed, gripping a rusted stop sign bent into a makeshift axe. The way he snorted and stomped made it clear he was eager for a fight.


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    To his left lurked a Werecat, lean and wiry with golden eyes that never stopped twitching from side to side. Her body was covered in sleek, spotted fur, and curved claws tapped against the wall as she crouched low, clearly ready to pounce. Every subtle movement screamed speed and precision, a predator waiting for the perfect opening.


    Behind her, half-hidden in the shadows, was something even uglier¡ªa Bog Troll. Skin a slimy green and covered in patches of moss, with arms long enough to drag on the ground. He reeked like a swamp that hadn¡¯t seen fresh water in a decade. His thick fingers clutched a broken steel beam, and his wide, toothy grin suggested he already thought this fight was won.


    And last, standing near the boy and blocking his only escape, was a Ghoul, pale and gaunt, skin stretched too tight over sharp bones. Faint wisps of fog clung to his shoulders like a cloak, and his long fingers twitched eagerly around a thin, curved dagger. The Ghoul looked the most human of the bunch, but his hollow black eyes made it clear there wasn¡¯t much left inside.


    Four different creatures. Four very real threats.


    And all of them too busy sneering at their cornered prey to notice Bob, Iris, and Gabe approaching.


    ¡°Guess we¡¯re crashing the party,¡± Gabe muttered, his eyes narrowing on the Minotaur.


    Iris didn''t even respond. Her gaze was locked on the boy. A human. Untransformed. Alone. And clearly seconds away from being ripped apart.


    Bob cracked his knuckles.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he called out, voice echoing down the alley. ¡°Pick on someone your own size.¡±


    The Minotaur turned first, snorting through his nose like an angry bull. ¡°Oh? And who exactly are you supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°The cleanup crew,¡± Gabe said from above, already flapping his wings to take higher ground.


    The Minotaur laughed¡ªa deep, heavy sound that made the ground feel like it shook. ¡°You three don¡¯t know what you¡¯re stepping into. We¡¯re with the Red Hands.¡±


    Iris raised an eyebrow. ¡°And we¡¯re supposed to care?¡±


    The Ghoul sneered. ¡°Back off, or we¡¯ll make you regret it.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Okay.¡±


    Then he picked up a broken car door from the wreckage beside him and hurled it straight into the Minotaur¡¯s face.


    The car door slammed into the Minotaur¡¯s face with a metallic clang, knocking him back two staggering steps. But instead of falling, he roared, shaking his head as if waking up from a nap.


    ¡°Well, well,¡± he bellowed, flexing his thick neck as he ripped the dented door from his horns and flung it aside. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got ourselves some heroes.¡±


    The Werecat hissed, crouching low with a grin that showed too many sharp teeth. ¡°Three of you? Against us? You should¡¯ve kept walking.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the Bog Troll added with a lazy swing of his steel beam. ¡°One warning. Just this once.¡±


    Bob didn¡¯t answer. He was already charging.


    The Minotaur met him head-on, hooves pounding the ground like thunder. Bob ducked the first wild swing of the stop-sign axe and slammed his shoulder into the beast¡¯s gut, sending the Minotaur skidding backward across the rubble.


    ¡°Gabe! Sky!¡± Iris called out as she darted toward the Ghoul.


    ¡°On it!¡± Gabe launched upward, his griffin wings snapping wide as he rose above the alley, scanning for the Werecat, who was already blurring between shadows, darting left and right, looking for an opening.


    The fight exploded.


    The Werecat lunged first, too fast for a normal eye to track, aiming for Iris¡¯s exposed side with claws outstretched.


    But Iris spun just in time, parrying with the flat of her armguard, then driving her knee into the Werecat¡¯s ribs. ¡°Not fast enough,¡± she said coldly.


    Overhead, Gabe spotted the Bog Troll raising his steel beam to crush Bob from behind. ¡°Bob! Duck!¡±


    Bob didn¡¯t question. He dropped into a roll, just as the beam whooshed over his head and slammed into the pavement with a thunderous crack. Chunks of cement flew.


    ¡°Oh, now you¡¯ve done it,¡± Bob muttered.


    Without missing a beat, he grabbed the broken pavement chunk, swung it like a bat, and smashed it into the Troll¡¯s stomach, doubling the creature over. Before the Troll could react, Bob hoisted him up by one leg and whipped him into the side of a nearby delivery truck, leaving a dent the size of a crater.


    Meanwhile, the Ghoul had circled around, dagger gleaming. It lunged at Iris from behind¡ªbut Gabe swooped down, his talons locking around the Ghoul¡¯s shoulders, yanking him off his feet like a child¡¯s toy.


    ¡°Time for a little air,¡± Gabe muttered, flapping higher before releasing the Ghoul mid-flight.


    The Ghoul hit the ground with a wet thud and groaned, but was still conscious.


    Now, all four were downed, panting and bruised.


    And that''s when the boasting stopped.


    ¡°Okay, okay! Look,¡± the Minotaur said, holding up his hands as Bob approached. ¡°Maybe we got off on the wrong foot.¡±


    The Werecat wiped blood from her mouth. ¡°Yeah, no hard feelings, right? You do your thing, we do ours. We¡¯ll just be on our way.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± the Bog Troll added, crawling out of the wreckage. ¡°Nothing personal! Just... you know, the fog and all.¡±


    Bob tilted his head. ¡°Oh? And the kid?¡±


    ¡°Uh... just a misunderstanding,¡± the Ghoul coughed, sitting up slowly. ¡°We weren¡¯t really gonna kill him. Just... uh... teach him a lesson.¡±


    Iris crossed her arms. ¡°Funny way of showing it.¡±


    Then came the threats.


    The Minotaur¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Listen. You don¡¯t want trouble with us. We¡¯re part of the Red Hands. Big group. Real big. You mess with us, you¡¯re messing with the whole organization.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the Werecat added. ¡°You let us go, we forget this ever happened. No harm, no foul.¡±


    Bob yawned. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡ªseriously, don¡¯t do this,¡± the Troll begged, dropping his steel beam and raising his hands. ¡°We¡¯ll leave the kid. We¡¯ll leave the district! You won¡¯t see us again.¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± the Ghoul added desperately. ¡°Just let us walk. No need for... whatever this is.¡±


    Bob scratched his head. ¡°Tie them up.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gabe blinked midair.


    ¡°Tie them up. Drag ¡®em to the next Safe Zone. Let their people there decide what to do.¡±


    Iris nodded. ¡°Agreed.¡±


    The Minotaur slumped. ¡°Oh, come on¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky we¡¯re feeling generous,¡± Gabe muttered as he landed, using some ripped electrical cables from a nearby wreck to bind their wrists. ¡°Or you''d be fertilizer by now.¡±


    As they worked, the young boy who had been cornered watched in disbelief, his wide eyes darting between his would-be murderers and the strange trio who had saved him without even breaking a sweat.


    And when the last knot was tied and the ambushers were lined up like grumpy statues against the wall, Bob finally turned to the boy.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    The kid blinked, clearly not expecting the question. ¡°...Sly.¡±


    Late teens, maybe. Thin but wiry, with messy black hair and clothes that looked like they hadn¡¯t seen a clean wash in weeks. His face was sharp, eyes constantly darting around like someone used to watching his back¡ªor waiting for someone to stab it. There were old scars on his arms, fresh bruises on his neck, and a look that said he''d been through more than most adults twice his age.


    Bob nodded once, like that was all he needed to know. ¡°You coming with us or what?¡±


    Sly just stared. ¡°...What?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gabe said with a grin. ¡°He does this. Don¡¯t overthink it.¡±


    Iris raised an eyebrow but said nothing. There was no point arguing when Bob had already decided.


    Sly hesitated, glanced at the tied-up group, then back at the three of them.


    ¡°¡­Fine,¡± he said quietly. ¡°But if those guys come after me... if the Red Hands come looking... you¡¯re allowed to ditch me. I don¡¯t want to drag anyone down.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Nah.¡±


    Sly blinked again. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®nah¡¯?¡±


    Bob smiled. ¡°We¡¯re not ditching anyone.¡±


    And just like that, the group grew by one.

 Chapter 9 – The Ghosts We Carry

    They didn¡¯t waste time after tying up the four ambushers. Bob hefted two of them over his shoulders like sacks of rice, and Gabe and Iris dragged the other two by the collars. Sly is still quiet, still catching his breath¡ªtrailed behind them, casting nervous glances back at the fog, as if expecting more enemies to crawl out of the mist.


    The Safe Zone ahead was quiet, almost too quiet, when they cr ossed the border. The usual curious stares followed them, whispers traveling faster than footsteps. It wasn¡¯t every day four half-conscious, bound thugs were dragged through the middle of the base.


    But as they walked, the whispers sharpened.


    ¡°That¡¯s... those are members of the Red Hands, right?¡±¡°No way. Are they crazy?¡±¡°They¡¯re dead. They don¡¯t even know it yet.¡±


    Bob didn¡¯t care about the whispers. He wasn¡¯t carrying these guys for fun. They were going to the mayor.


    And justice.


    At least, that was the plan.


    Sly walked a little closer to Gabe, voice low. ¡°They¡¯ll come after you for this, you know.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll live,¡± Gabe muttered.


    But Sly shook his head. ¡°No. You don¡¯t get it. I wasn¡¯t just some random target. I overheard something I shouldn¡¯t have. That¡¯s why they want me dead.¡±


    Bob grunted. ¡°Spit it out.¡±


    Sly hesitated, eyes darting around the street like the walls had ears. But something in Bob''s expression¡ªcalm, steady, as if none of this really fazed him¡ªmade him talk.


    ¡°The Red Hands... they¡¯re not just some gang,¡± Sly said quietly. ¡°They''re experimenting on people. Taking locals who wander too close to the fog... testing ways to control transformations. Pushing the limits. Seeing how far they can go before people lose their minds.¡±


    Iris frowned. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°They want soldiers,¡± Sly replied. ¡°Stronger, faster, better. People who can stay in the fog without turning insane. Weapons they can use.¡±


    Gabe scoffed. ¡°Great. And let me guess... the local government just lets them do whatever they want?¡±


    Sly shook his head. ¡°I tried reporting them once. Nothing happened¡ªsaid there wasn¡¯t enough evidence. Red Hands found out and started hunting me. After that... I thought maybe if someone brought real proof, the mayor would finally act.


    Sly lowered his voice. ¡°It¡¯s not just the experiments. Some of the lower Red Hands... they¡¯ve been taking girls too. Not for testing. For... other things. Even kids.¡±


    Iris¡¯s eyes sharpened. ¡°How young?¡±


    Sly hesitated. ¡°Too young.¡±


    For a moment, no one spoke.


    Bob adjusted the weight on his shoulder like he was carrying groceries instead of living men. ¡°You just need the mayor now, right? Here¡¯s your evidence¡ªRed Hands causing trouble in broad daylight.¡±


    They reached the mayor¡¯s office¡ªa sturdy building near the center of the small base, ringed by guards pretending to be disinterested. Inside, the air smelled like polished wood and stale power.


    The mayor, a middle-aged man with a perfect smile and the kind of suit that screamed I haven''t worked a real job in years, stood waiting behind his desk.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked, voice smooth as silk.


    ¡°Delivery,¡± Bob said, dropping the first thug with a satisfying thud.


    ¡°These four attacked a civilian,¡± Iris explained, motioning to Sly. ¡°We brought them here to be dealt with.¡±


    For a moment, the mayor said nothing. His eyes flicked from the prisoners to Sly... then to the rest of the group.


    And then he smiled.


    But it wasn¡¯t a thank you for your service kind of smile.


    It was something else.


    Bob noticed it first¡ªthe subtle shift in the guards¡¯ stance, the way they edged closer. The quiet click of doors unlocking behind them, making way for more guards to slip in.


    Sly noticed it next. His face drained of color.


    ¡°No... no, this isn¡¯t right,¡± he whispered.


    The mayor¡¯s smile widened. ¡°You should¡¯ve just kept running, kid. Instead, you handed yourself straight to the Red Hands.¡±


    Iris¡¯s hand drifted toward her weapon, slow and careful. Gabe flexed his fingers.


    And outside the windows, more men gathered, surrounding the building like vultures waiting for the final breath.


    The whispers on the street made sense now.


    Everyone had known.


    Everyone except them.


    Bob dropped the second thug next to the first and cracked his knuckles. ¡°So... no reward for good behavior, huh?¡±


    The mayor¡¯s grin didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll be rewarded. You¡¯re about to meet the rest of the Red Hands. I¡¯ll even let you choose who dies first.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    And Sly?


    He just shook his head.


    ¡°I thought... I thought if I told someone, they''d help,¡± he whispered. ¡°But the base was bought. There''s nowhere left to run.¡±


    Bob looked at him. Then back at the mayor.


    ¡°Run?¡± Bob repeated.


    ¡°Nah,¡± he said, rolling his shoulders.


    ¡°We¡¯re not running anywhere.¡±


    The tension snapped in an instant.


    Gabe moved first.


    Fast.


    Before anyone else could react, Gabe strikes down the closest man by the door. At the same time, Bob flipped the mayor¡¯s table and hurled it through the window. Glass exploded outward. Without stopping, he leaped through the opening, landing outside to face the men gathering around the building.


    Inside the mayor''s office, Gabe, Iris, and Sly held their ground. The space was tight, leaving only a few enemies able to enter at once.


    Inside, the first attackers pushed through the door. Gabe met them head-on, slamming his fist into the nearest man¡¯s face and driving him back. Another tried to slip past, but


    Gabe caught him with an elbow and threw him into the wall.


    Sly jumped in to help, swinging wildly, but a kick to his chest sent him sprawling to the floor. He groaned, clutching his ribs. Iris dragged him back, keeping him out of the way while throwing quick strikes to slow anyone who got too close.


    The office filled with shouts and the scrape of boots, but the tight space worked in their favor. Only a few could enter at a time, and Gabe blocked them all.


    Outside, Bob hit the ground running. He plowed into the first man without slowing down, knocking him flat. Another swung a pipe, but Bob ducked and drove his shoulder into the man¡¯s stomach, sending him crashing against the wall. He moved fast, clearing a small gap, keeping the pressure off the building.


    ¡°Bang!¡±A gunshot rang out, and the fight suddenly stopped. For a moment, everything held still¡ªinside and out.


    Bob¡¯s head snapped toward the window. Inside, he saw Gabe stumble as a red stain bloomed across his leg.


    ¡°Bang!¡± The second shot hit his shoulder, spinning him back and dropping him hard to the floor.


    Iris ran toward Gabe, but one of the Red Hands blocked her path. She tried to push past him, but his slap came fast and brutal, sending her crashing to the floor.


    Sly moved on instinct, ready to help, but the gun aimed at him cracked against his face before he got far. He dropped to the floor, dazed and bleeding.


    Before Iris could get up, a gun pressed hard against her head.


    ¡°Pretty thing like you? Shame to waste you on the spot,¡± the man sneered.


    Outside, the street had gone silent. Citizens peeked from windows and doors, but no one moved to help. No one dared. They knew better.


    And still... Bob stood there.


    Quiet.


    Unmoving.


    From inside the office, one of the Red Hands laughed, his voice sharp and mocking.


    ¡°You should stop now, big guy. You move, and we put your friends in the ground.¡±


    Bob didn¡¯t respond. He didn''t have to.


    His eyes shifted¡ªnot to the window, not to the man barking threats, not even to his injured friends.


    Instead, he looked at the massive meteor fragment sitting just in front of the mayor¡¯s office, half-buried in the ground, only a few steps away from him. Boulder-sized, with nothing but a flimsy blockade and a faded ¡°Do Not Cross¡± sign around it¡ªthe only thing keeping the Pink Fog back.


    This was their safe zone.


    Without a word, Bob turned and walked toward the fragment.


    Shouts erupted from inside the building.


    ¡°Hey! Stop!¡±


    Too late.


    Bob wrapped his arms around the meteor fragment, muscles bulging as the ground cracked beneath his feet. With a roar, he tore it free and hoisted it into the air like it weighed nothing.


    And then he threw it.


    High. Hard.


    The fragment smashed into the street a few meters away, tumbling end over end before skidding to a stop.


    It landed with a deafening crash, splitting into dozens and dozens of jagged shards that scattered like glass across the pavement. And as the pieces flew, the unthinkable happened.


    The Safe Zone''s barrier flickered.


    Then it collapsed.


    The Pink Fog surged in.


    A wall of it. Thick. Heavy. Alive.


    And in that same moment, Bob changed.


    The Goliath returned.


    His body swelled, skin darkening, muscles expanding, horns curling upward. And his eyes¡ªthose calm, sleepy eyes¡ªlit with something no one had seen before.


    Pure, unchecked fury.


    The men who¡¯d been so brave just seconds before, surrounding him, started backing away.¡°What the... what is he?¡± one whispered.


    But Bob didn¡¯t answer. He moved.Fast.


    In one stride, he was back inside the mayor¡¯s office.


    The man who shot Gabe didn¡¯t even have time to beg. Bob¡¯s fist crashed into his chest, launching him through the wall and out into the street.


    The one who slapped Iris? Same fate. Bob grabbed him by the ankle and swung him into a pillar, snapping it clean in half before tossing the man through the nearest window.


    ¡°STOP HIM!¡± someone screamed.


    They tried.


    The men inside fired first, but their guns jammed on the spot. The Pink Fog had already slipped in, eating away at the triggers, leaving nothing but useless metal.


    Outside, some tried rushing in with pipes and blades to help the ones inside. But others turned and ran, too scared to face whatever Bob had become.


    But it didn¡¯t matter.


    Bob was already on them.


    The mayor didn¡¯t even get to run. Bob¡¯s hand wrapped around his torso, and with one smooth motion, tore him clean in half.


    Panic rippled through the room.


    The survivors scattered in all directions, sprinting through alleys and broken streets, searching for any route that led away from the spreading fog. Some headed east, hoping to reach the next safe zone before the symptoms hit. Others ran north, chasing rumors of a hidden shelter in the mountains. They knew the clock had started¡ªsix hours before the change began, maybe less if the fog soaked too deep. And without a white fragment or meteor shard to cleanse them, the safe zones'' barriers would reject them entirely.


    The fog would strip them down before they even got close. Behind them, the pink haze rolled on, slow and steady, swallowing the small base piece by piece.


    Gabe, still on the floor, watched through bleary eyes as Bob tore the office apart.


    ¡°Guess... that¡¯s one way to handle it,¡± he muttered.


    Iris knelt beside him, checking his wounds. "Stay still. And wait for your transformation."


    As they remained engulfed in the Pink Fog, something unexpected unfolded.


    Gabe¡¯s body started changing.


    Muscles rippled under his skin as feathers pushed through his arms. His injured shoulder... it moved. The muscle twisted and flexed around the embedded bullets. And then¡ªpop¡ªone bullet slid free, clinking on the floor. Then another. His body rejected them, healing over in seconds.


    Iris watched in awe as the holes closed like nothing had happened.


    "Looks like the fog''s doing the work for us," Gabe said through gritted teeth as his beak reformed.


    Across the room, Bob finally slowed. The last of the Red Hands lay scattered¡ªunconscious, broken, or worse. The Goliath form loomed over the wreckage, his chest heaving.


    Then he turned back toward his friends.


    Saw Gabe sitting up.


    Saw Iris helping him stand.


    And Bob smiled.


    A big, dumb, relieved smile.


    ¡°Good,¡± he rumbled. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to wreck the whole place for nothing.¡±


    And for the first time in a long while, Gabe laughed.


    Even in the middle of the fog.


    Even standing in the ruins of a base that had just tried to kill them.


    What was once the mayor¡¯s office was now nothing but ruins, the surrounding buildings crushed and broken. Everything else had been swallowed by the Pink Fog¡ªquiet and unstoppable.


    The small base that was once a safe zone was gone. Completely erased.

 Chapter 10: Breaking News

    Sly kept his distance, wide-eyed as he looked between the destruction, the creeping fog... and the monster Bob had become. It didn¡¯t make sense. Gabe and Iris transformed just now. Bob transformed the moment he stepped into the Pink Fog.


    Wasn¡¯t it supposed to take six hours?


    Sly glanced down at his own bruises, frowning. No healing. No transformation. Nothing.


    Bob wiped the blood from his hands, somehow picking up on Sly¡¯s confusion. ¡°Eat enough, you stop dying. Simple as that.¡±


    Bob was talking about eating the pink fragments. Or in their case, absorption.


    It didn¡¯t help. Sly didn¡¯t understand what Bob meant. If anything, he was even more confused than before.


    After a few more minutes of silence, Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. "Bob. We should go check where you threw the fragment."


    Bob gave a small nod.


    They left the wreckage behind and retraced Bob¡¯s furious throw. It took them about fifteen minutes of walking through thick fog, the sky above a muted swirl of pink and gray.


    The street ended where a deep crater had formed from the impact, the earth torn apart in every direction.


    And there it was.


    What was left of the Safe Zone fragment lay at the bottom of the small crater. It wasn''t whole anymore. What had once been a boulder-sized meteor chunk was now shattered into dozens of jagged, glowing pieces, most of them no bigger than a fist. One larger fragment, about the size of a baseball, pulsed softly in the center.


    Gabe slid down first, crouching beside the pieces. He reached out, and the moment his fingers touched the biggest one, something strange happened.


    His griffin form flickered.


    For just a second, his talons and wings shimmered, his human arm flickering back into view where it gripped the fragment. The glow of the stone hummed softly against his skin.


    "...Huh," Gabe said, holding it up. "This thing¡¯s still alive. Weak... but it works."


    They gathered what they could. Not every piece had power left in it, but enough did. Gabe worked quickly, tying them into a bundle and placing them carefully into the cart. As soon as the cluster was settled in the back, the air shifted.


    The fog around them thinned.


    A faint, clear circle began to form around the cart, like an invisible bubble slowly expanding out from the collected fragments.


    Iris watched the edges with awe. "We just made a mobile Safe Zone..."


    "Looks like it," Gabe said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It''s weak... barely covering the cart. But it''s something."


    Sly tapped the side of the cart and gave a rare smile. "Not bad."


    A few hours later, with the Pink Fog hanging thick around them as they moved, Sly finally began to transform. His wounds started to close, his body slowly healing.


    But he wasn¡¯t happy.


    He didn¡¯t understand how Bob worked, but what bothered him more was Iris and Gabe. They had transformed long before him, already fighting, already proving themselves. Meanwhile, he¡¯d just been there¡ªfollowing behind, watching them handle every threat while he waited for his own transformation to start.


    He felt like a burden, and he hated it.


    If he was going to stay with them, he needed to fight beside them. Not like this. Not as dead weight.


    ---


    Word travels fast in the fog.


    By the time Bob and the others reached the next safe zone, people were already whispering. Stories moved quicker than the Pink Fog itself. A small base wiped out. Red Hands crushed. A man lifting a meteor fragment like it was nothing.


    They hadn¡¯t even made it past the outer paths before the stares started. Quiet at first. Curious. Nervous. Then someone pointed.


    ¡°That¡¯s them. The ones from the small base.¡±


    Sly glanced over his shoulder. ¡°Great. We¡¯re famous now.¡±


    But none of them knew the full weight of what they''d done.


    Far away from the small, ruined base, deep inside a fortified compound untouched by fog, the real leaders of the Red Hands gathered. The meeting room was dim, lit only by the glow of old monitors and scattered lanterns. Maps covered the walls, red markers placed over lost zones, fallen outposts, and now... one more was added.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    A man in a long coat leaned over the table, tapping a finger against the fresh report. "A whole base. Gone. And for what? One crew? Some nobodies?"


    "They''re not nobodies anymore," another growled from across the room, tossing down a bloodstained jacket that once belonged to one of their men. "One of ours crawled back before the fog finished the job. Said it was some freak. Big guy. Broke the fragment. Dropped the whole barrier."


    A low silence followed.


    Then the leader finally spoke. His voice was calm, but the room froze at the sound of it. "What¡¯s his name?"


    "Bob. That¡¯s all we got."


    The leader nodded slowly. "Then put a bounty on him. On all of them. Alive or dead, I don¡¯t care. Anyone who brings me their heads gets triple pay."


    He stood, adjusting his coat as he turned toward the window. The fog swirled far in the distance, but it hadn''t reached them. Not yet.


    "We let this slide, we look weak. Find them."


    The others didn¡¯t question it. Orders were orders. And now, the hunt had officially begun.


    ---


    They stayed in the new safe zone for a few days. With new members joining and the group growing, they needed time to train¡ªtest their coordination, tighten their teamwork.


    A mobile safe zone was good, but not enough. Training burned through time and energy, and that meant supplies: food, water, spare parts. Practicing was one thing, but they couldn''t survive on drills alone. Every day they pushed themselves meant another day they''d have to go back out and scavenge to make up for it.


    So, between trips for resources, they used a nearby safe zone as cover¡ªrunning drills, sparring, working out formations. Each time they stepped into the Pink Fog, the same thing happened.


    Bob transformed instantly.


    Iris and Gabe followed hours earlier than the standard timer, their bodies adapting faster and faster.


    And Sly... didn¡¯t.


    By the second day, the frustration was eating at him. They were already moving, their bodies shifting, and there he was¡ªstill waiting for the change, still lagging behind. Finally, as they stopped to rest, he couldn¡¯t hold it in any longer.


    He glanced over while they waited in the fog. "Hey... how are you guys transforming so fast? It''s supposed to take six hours, right?"


    Iris smirked and stretched her arms. ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d ask. Figured you¡¯d notice eventually.¡±


    Sly frowned. ¡°Notice what?¡±


    She tapped the small pink fragment hanging from a chain around her neck. ¡°These. You thought we were just wearing accessories?¡±


    Sly blinked. ¡°...You are, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Gabe let out a small laugh, pulling his own from under his shirt. ¡°Not exactly. The trick is absorption¡ªdirect skin contact inside the Pink Fog. When you hold onto a fragment and let it touch your skin, your body absorbs its energy, speeding up the process. It boosts you¡ªmakes you stronger, faster, and shortens the transformation time.¡±


    Sly looked down at his arms. "I mean... I thought I was changing a little quicker."


    Gabe nodded. ¡°Yeah. You probably picked up some stray contact without realizing. But to really get the benefit? You need to keep one on you, against your skin. Works better in the fog. And no, before you ask, we can''t eat them like Bob."


    Iris snorted. ¡°We tried. Nearly broke a tooth.¡±


    Sly looked between them and then back at Bob, who didn¡¯t even seem to be listening, too busy stretching his arms and watching the fog shift.


    ¡°He¡¯s been doing it since the first day,¡± Gabe added. ¡°No wonder he''s ahead of everyone.¡±


    Without wasting another second, Sly dug through the fragments they¡¯d collected, grabbed one, and pressed it to his palm. He waited. And slowly, he felt it¡ªthe warmth seeping into his skin, the faint pulse of something working inside him.


    They were right.


    ¡°Feels... weird,¡± Sly muttered, gripping it tighter.


    Gabe just shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Besides, we¡¯ve got bigger plans than just faster transformations.¡±


    Sly raised an eyebrow. ¡°Like what?¡±


    Gabe smirked. ¡°We¡¯re hoarding them. Every last fragment we get. Think about it¡ªonce people realize what these things can really do, they won¡¯t just see them as monster drops anymore. They¡¯ll be worth fighting over.¡±


    Sly blinked. ¡°You¡¯re serious. You''re trying to get rich off meteor rocks?¡±


    ¡°Not trying,¡± Gabe said. ¡°We are. Currency, power, survival¡ªtake your pick. Out here? This is the new gold.¡±


    And for the first time, Sly realized just how far ahead they were thinking.


    From the side, Bob finally spoke up, his voice as casual as ever.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know we were hoarding them.¡±


    Gabe rolled his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re eating the profits, man.¡±


    ---


    The day they''d been waiting for finally arrived.


    It started quietly. Just another slow morning in the safe zone. But when the public screen flickered to life, showing a live broadcast from one of the larger surviving networks, people stopped what they were doing.


    Bob and the others gathered with the crowd, all eyes on the screen.


    A reporter sat across from a man who looked like he hadn''t slept in days. His lab coat was wrinkled, his glasses were crooked, and his hair was sticking up like he''d been electrocuted. But the excitement on his face was impossible to miss.


    ¡°This is Doctor Halbridge,¡± the reporter began. ¡°One of the first specialists studying the Pink Fog and its effects on the human body. Doctor, what exactly is happening to people out there?¡±


    Halbridge adjusted his glasses, leaning in. ¡°Well... the short version? The Pink Fog is changing us. Those who survive exposure aren¡¯t just getting lucky¡ªthey¡¯re evolving.¡±


    A murmur ran through the small crowd watching. Sly glanced at the others, but none of them looked particularly surprised.


    ¡°Through direct observation,¡± Halbridge continued, ¡°we¡¯ve confirmed that Pink Fragments are key. They¡¯re not just harmless debris. They can be absorbed, and the results are... well, you¡¯ve probably already seen them. People are getting stronger. Faster. Tougher.¡±


    Sly snorted quietly. ¡°Finally someone says it.¡±


    Gabe smirked. ¡°About time.¡±


    Iris crossed her arms. ¡°Let¡¯s see if he gets the details right.¡±


    On the screen, Halbridge was getting into it, his voice gaining momentum like he¡¯d been waiting days to unload this theory.


    ¡°After studying multiple cases, I''ve been able to outline what I believe are the stages of Fog Power. Now, these are still early observations, but the pattern is clear enough to share.¡±


    The camera cut to a simple chart while he explained:


    Stage 0 ¨C Adaptation:The initial phase of survival. The body accepts the Pink Fog, triggers transformation, and maintains mental stability.


    Stage 1 ¨C Internalization:The body strengthens internally. Faster healing, increased endurance, and enhanced physical durability.


    Stage 2 ¨C External Aura:Energy begins to radiate from the body, creating a visible or felt aura that increases pressure on the surroundings and nearby targets.


    Stage 3 ¨C Extension:Power extends beyond the body, enabling long-range attacks and the materialization of weapons or tools formed from Pink Fog energy.


    Stage 4 ¨C Enhancement:Full control of the Pink Fog as both offense and defense. Weapons become sharper, barriers stronger, and energy use more refined and continuous in combat.


    Halbridge sat back with a grin. ¡°And honestly? I think there¡¯s more beyond that. We''re just getting started."


    The crowd watching the screen stayed quiet. You could almost feel the weight of it settling over the safe zone.


    Gabe tilted his head. ¡°Stage 1, huh? That¡¯s us.¡±


    Iris nodded. ¡°Pretty sure Bob¡¯s past that.¡±


    They glanced at him. Bob didn¡¯t say anything, still watching the screen, his arms crossed over his chest like none of this was news to him.


    Sly looked down at the fragment resting in his palm, the one he''d finally started carrying after realizing how far behind he was.


    Stage 0. Still stuck there. But now he knew why.


    The broadcast kept going. The reporter leaned back in her chair and said, ¡°And Doctor Halbridge, what about the long-term effects? Should people continue to seek out fragments? Is there any danger to absorbing too much?¡±


    Halbridge¡¯s grin faltered for just a second.


    ¡°We''re... still studying that,¡± he admitted. ¡°But I have more to share. What happens next is going to change everything.¡±


    The screen cut to a map.


    And the room got quiet again.

 Chapter 11 – Rising Terrors

    The broadcast wasn¡¯t over.


    After the explanation of Fog Power stages, Dr. Halbridge barely paused before pulling up a second chart. This time, the screen filled with blurry images¡ªsilhouettes of twisted creatures, each one worse than the last.


    ¡°And now... onto the bigger problem,¡± Halbridge said, adjusting his glasses. ¡°The Pink Fog isn''t just changing people. It¡¯s changing everything.¡±


    The reporter shifted nervously. ¡°You mean the animals?¡±


    ¡°Animals, plants, anything organic. Once exposed to the Pink Fog, they mutate beyond saving. We call them Nightmare Creatures. Unlike humans, they don¡¯t adapt. They don¡¯t stabilize. They just become... monsters.¡±


    Sly crossed his arms as he watched. ¡°So much for saving the family dog.¡±


    Halbridge tapped the next slide. ¡°And humans? Those who survive transformation without losing their minds? We now call them Glints. They¡¯re the rare few¡ªsane, functional, and still themselves. But those same people, if they stay in the fog too long, if they push too far... they lose control. When that happens, they become something worse.¡±


    The screen shifted again. The image was of a twisted, half-human figure with glowing eyes and too many teeth.


    ¡°We call them Fades. Overexposed Glints, driven mad by the fog. Their strength keeps growing, but their minds don¡¯t. Eventually, they become no different from Nightmare Creatures. Just another threat in the mist.¡±


    The reporter frowned. ¡°And these creatures... they''re organizing?¡±


    Halbridge gave a grim nod. ¡°That¡¯s the part no one wanted to believe. But yes. The creatures are forming ranks. They¡¯re claiming territory. They¡¯re fighting for control. We¡¯ve identified five levels so far."


    Another chart appeared, listing the ranks clearly:


    Stray ¨C Loner: The weakest rank. Isolated Fades or Nightmare Creatures wandering alone. No strategy. No coordination. Easy targets if you¡¯re careful.


    Pack: Small groups working together. Still clumsy, but they overwhelm with numbers.


    Caller: A significant jump in power. Callers don¡¯t just fight¡ªthey lead. They can organize packs, direct ambushes, and defend territory. Wherever a Caller appears, territory wars follow.


    General ¨C Boss: Massive, brutal, and intelligent. A Boss commands entire hordes and controls large regions of fog. They crush rival Callers and expand their domain without mercy.


    King?...


    ¡°While still unconfirmed, there are increasing reports of higher-order entities referred to as ¡®Kings.¡¯ These are believed to oversee multiple Boss-level creatures, exhibiting coordinated control over vast regions of the Pink Fog. Should their existence be verified, it would suggest the Fog is evolving from isolated threats to a structured hierarchy, which presents a far more complex and sustained danger to human survival.¡±


    The crowd watching the broadcast stayed silent.


    Bob and the others exchanged glances.


    ¡°So... good news all around,¡± Gabe muttered.


    Iris nodded slowly. ¡°We¡¯ve handled packs before. The wolves, the lizardfolks... but we haven¡¯t met a Caller yet.¡±


    Sly looked at the screen, swallowing hard. ¡°And if a Boss shows up?¡±


    ¡°Run,¡± Gabe said flatly.


    Sly didn¡¯t disagree.


    But Bob?


    He just kept watching the broadcast, quiet, unreadable.


    Something told Sly that if they ever ran into something stronger...Bob wouldn¡¯t be the one running.


    The broadcast carried on, Dr. Halbridge continuing his detailed explanation of creature ranks. But Iris wasn¡¯t listening anymore.


    She was stuck back on the earlier part of the broadcast.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Stage 2 ¨C External Aura. A glow. A pressure. Fog energy leaking beyond the body as a defensive shield.


    She frowned, arms crossed, her gaze drifting to Bob standing just a few feet away. He wasn¡¯t paying attention either, eyes on the screen but clearly somewhere else in his head.


    Stage 2 was supposed to be aura control. But... was that really all Bob had shown?


    Iris thought back to the fight at the small base. The Red Hands. Gabe bleeding on the floor.


    Bob had been outside when the gunshot rang out. He didn¡¯t know if Gabe was alive. All he saw through the window was Gabe lying there, not moving, surrounded by blood.


    And then... he snapped.


    That wasn¡¯t the usual Goliath she¡¯d seen before. No. That was something else.


    Big horns curling out of his skull. Red eyes, burning bright. Arms longer than usual, fingers stretched into claws, nails sharp like knives. His whole body had looked harder, sharper, like rage itself had shaped him.


    But just yesterday? Same Goliath form as always. No horns. No glowing eyes. Just bulk and muscle. Strong, yes, but... softer. Familiar.


    So why was it different?


    She swallowed.


    Emotion.


    That was it.


    The fog, the transformation¡ªmaybe it wasn¡¯t just about stages. Maybe anger, fear, pain... maybe they all pushed the body past what it was supposed to be.


    What if that wasn¡¯t Stage 2 or 3?


    What if it was something else entirely?


    A hidden trigger.


    If rage could shape Bob like that... what would joy do? Or love? Or grief?


    Iris exhaled, her mind spinning. ¡°That idiot,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°He''s rewriting the rules, and he doesn¡¯t even know it.¡±


    ---


    Not far away, Sly was lost in his own thoughts.


    The more the broadcast explained, the smaller he felt. But Sly wasn¡¯t listening anymore.


    Stage 0. That was him. Barely scratching the surface.


    Meanwhile, Gabe and Iris had long since moved into Stage 1, pushing faster, growing stronger every day. Every time they entered the Pink Fog, they were ahead of him¡ªabsorbing more, transforming quicker, getting better.


    And Bob? Forget it. Bob was already miles ahead, so far out of reach it wasn¡¯t worth comparing.


    But...


    Sly closed his eyes, replaying the stages in his head.


    Stage 0 ¨C Adaptation.Stage 1 ¨C Internalization.Stage 2 ¨C Aura.Stage 3 ¨C Extension.


    Extension.


    That was the one about controlling the Pink Fog around you, wasn¡¯t it? Turning it into something you could use. Weapons. Shields. Claws.


    Did it really have to go in order?


    Or could someone... skip?


    A crazy idea started forming in his mind, buzzing like static.


    What if I just try it?


    If the fog was already flowing through him, if the fragment was already pressed to his skin...


    Why wait?


    Sly flexed his fingers, focusing on the mist swirling faintly at his feet.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he whispered.


    Maybe it was impossible. Maybe he wasn¡¯t ready.


    But he had nothing to lose by trying.


    And if the others were moving forward every second, he wasn¡¯t about to stay behind and watch anymore.


    The broadcast kept rolling, but Gabe wasn¡¯t listening anymore.


    He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes half on the screen and half on nothing. The weight of dried blood tugged at his shirt, a stiff reminder of how close things had gotten. How close they''d always been lately.


    Red Hands. Nightmare creatures. Whatever the hell came next.


    And what was their plan?


    Wait for Bob to lose his temper and clean up the mess?


    Hope Iris stayed sharp?


    Hope Sly figured himself out?


    Hope Gabe spotted the next disaster before it hit them?


    Hope.


    He hated that word.


    Hope didn¡¯t patch bullet holes.Hope didn¡¯t warn you before a gang tried to put you six feet under.Hope didn¡¯t keep food in the bag or give you five seconds of peace from the fog pressing at your back.


    But people could.


    That was the thought that settled, quiet but clear, while Halbridge¡¯s voice droned on about Bosses and Kings and the end of the world.


    They needed people.


    Not soldiers. Not banners. Not fans screaming their names.


    Eyes. Ears. Whispers.


    A network.


    Small.


    Invisible.


    Waiting.


    A web strung between safe zones, backroads, hidden corners of what was left of the world.


    Places to trade.


    Places to hide.


    People passing warnings before things got bad.


    Not tomorrow.


    Not next week.


    But soon.


    Because Bob wasn¡¯t going to hold the world up on his shoulders forever.


    And when he finally dropped it... someone had to be there to catch the pieces.


    Gabe shifted, pulling his notebook from his bag. The pencil dragged rough over damp pages, but the words landed clean:


    THE WEB.


    Below it, he started the list.


    No names yet.


    Just places.


    Roles.


    Ideas.


    And while the broadcast kept rolling, while Halbridge listed ranks and theories and all the things waiting out in the fog, Gabe kept writing.


    Because the next time something came for them, hope wasn¡¯t going to cut it.


    But a plan just might.


    And then there was Bob.


    While Doctor Halbridge kept talking¡ªcreatures, ranks, doom and gloom¡ªBob wasn¡¯t listening. Probably never was.


    Instead, he sat cross-legged near the fire, slowly working through a can of beans like it was the most important task in the world.


    Bosses. Kings. Territory wars.


    Bob scraped the last bite from the can, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and gave the screen a glance like someone checking the time.


    ¡°Cool,¡± he said, like the end of the world was just another thing on the list.


    Then he tossed the empty can aside, stretched out on the ground, and closed his eyes.


    Because if tomorrow came with monsters and chaos and some so-called King...


    Well.


    That was tomorrow''s problem.


    And right now?


    A nap sounded better.

 Chapter 12: The Battle for Safe Zones Begins

    The air carried the scent of wet dirt and rusted metal as Bob stretched and let out a loud yawn, startling a group of crows perched on a broken power line.


    The outpost they had been using for training was just a collapsed storehouse at the edge of the safe zone. After days of staying there as their temporary base, the place felt dull and worn out.


    "We done here yet?" Bob muttered, his voice carrying across the cracked pavement. "This place is boring."


    Iris stopped sharpening her blade and looked up. "We were supposed to give Sly more time to adapt."


    Leaning against a broken wall, Sly gave a casual wave, though his tired expression said it all. "Hey, don''t blame me. Keeping up with you guys isn''t exactly easy."


    He was trying his best, but their fighting styles were already well-practiced and coordinated. Unlike them, he had to find a way to fit himself into their battles, making sure his attacks didn''t disrupt their flow. One wrong move, and instead of hitting the enemy, he''d end up getting in their way¡ªor worse, getting hit himself.


    Sly was the weakest in the group, struggling to keep up with their pace in battle. Their movements were fast, coordinated, almost effortless. Meanwhile, he was still figuring out his own footing, trying to match their flow without getting in the way. He wasn''t just slow¡ªhe was a liability.


    But he refused to stay that way.


    If he was ever going to fit into their fights, if he was ever going to stand beside them as an equal, he had to break through Stage 0¡ªno matter what it took.


    "Alright," Bob said, standing and cracking his neck. "Let''s move. I''m bored. Maybe the next place has something fun to smash."


    No one argued.


    They loaded their gear back onto the cart, the creaking metal shell that carried their supplies¡ªand more importantly, the thin shield of safety that kept the Pink Fog at bay. It wasn''t fast, but it moved, and as long as it kept humming, they didn''t have to worry about waking up as Fades.


    With the cart rumbling behind them, they pushed forward.


    The roads were cracked and half-swallowed by weeds, broken buildings leaning in on both sides as if ready to collapse.


    They fought as they moved.


    Nothing dangerous¡ªjust strays and small packs of weak Fades wandering through the Pink Fog. They were common creatures twisted by the corruption, always on the move, looking for anything unlucky enough to cross their path. Imps with ripped wings screamed from the rooftops. Wretches crawled on all fours, their bodies bent and broken. Kobolds ran through the shadows, snapping their sharp teeth at anything that moved.


    Sly pushed himself to keep up. Every time a fight broke out, he''d clap his hands together, flash a confident grin, and declare, "Alright, watch this! I''m gonna Skip stages!"


    His Shadow Spectre form wasn''t meant for frontline combat. Unlike the others, he wasn''t built for brute strength¡ªhis power relied on speed, misdirection, and quick escapes. His body felt lighter than it should, his steps barely making a sound, and his reflexes sharp¡ªbut only in short bursts.


    He threw himself into motion, trying something new¡ªsomething reckless. He focused, pushing his limits, attempting to pull the energy straight from his core.


    He moved. The power flickered.


    For a moment, it felt like it was working.


    Then reality hit, and instead of skipping stages, he stumbled, barely keeping himself from eating dirt.


    It wasn''t just some dumb dream.


    In theory, it made sense¡ªwhy wait until Stage 2, when the aura finally leaks out on its own, if you could grab that same power from inside and push it out early?


    In practice?


    It looked more like a half-trip mixed with a panic hop, ending with Sly nearly smashing into a wall.


    On the third attempt, after his foot caught on debris and he barely saved himself from faceplanting, Gabe didn''t even look up. He was busy sharpening his claws on a broken piece of metal, acting like Sly wasn''t worth the attention.


    "You almost skipped your face into that wall."


    Sly groaned, wiping dust from his cheek.


    "It''s possible. I know it is." He tapped his chest.


    "The energy''s already there. I just need to force it out."


    Iris scoffed, sheathing her blade. "Maybe try walking first."


    Bob just yawned and kept moving.


    "Better hurry up. If you try that in front of a real Fade, you''ll save them the trouble."


    Sly exhaled through his nose, muttering under his breath.


    "Stage 0 today... Stage 3 tomorrow."


    Gabe smirked. "More like Stage 0 forever if you keep falling on your face."


    Still, Sly refused to give up.


    Because deep down, he knew it wasn''t impossible.


    Just stupidly hard.


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    And for now, that was good enough.


    Days passed like that¡ªtravel, fights, resting in broken buildings, moving again. They were somewhere between Safe Zones when the stranger appeared.


    A man in worn, dark clothes watched from the edge of an overpass as Bob shattered a wretch''s skull with a single punch. His face was neutral, but his eyes lingered on the crew, measuring them.


    When the fight ended, and Bob wiped his hands on his pants like he''d finished nothing more than a snack, the man approached.


    "You lot handle yourselves well," the man said. "Not from around here, are you?"


    Bob shrugged. "Passing through."


    The man hesitated. "You should come with me. My people would be interested in meeting you. We''re with the Kuroda family."


    At the mention of the name, Iris and Gabe exchanged looks. Kuroda was no minor Safe Zone. Word traveled, and what traveled wasn''t good. Ruthless, powerful, and always looking for more land.


    Bob, of course, didn''t care. "Is there food?"


    The man smirked. "Plenty. And maybe work too. Something... challenging."


    That got Bob''s attention.


    They followed.


    The Kuroda Safe Zone was built like a fortress, with high walls patched together from scrap metal and broken vehicles. Guards watched from above, armed with salvaged weapons and sharper stares.


    Inside, the streets were busy but tense. People moved quickly, eyes down, like the air itself was dangerous. You could feel the weight of control here. Everything clean, orderly, and absolutely void of warmth.


    They didn''t wait long before meeting the one who mattered.


    Renji Kuroda, the head of the Safe Zone, welcomed them in a large hall surrounded by his top men. A thin smile played on his lips, but it never touched his eyes.


    "I hear you''re strong," Renji said, his gaze landing on Bob like he was sizing up a new tool. "We have a problem that needs... solving."


    Bob sat cross-legged on the floor and yawned. "What kind of problem?"


    Renji leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as the low murmur of the hall quieted behind him.


    "A Caller," he said carefully. "It''s been blocking our path for some time now. We need it gone. You handle it, and there''s a bounty in it for you. Supplies. Rest. Weapons. Whatever you need."


    The word hung in the air.


    Caller.


    Bob tilted his head. "A Caller... huh."


    They''d only recently learned what that meant from Dr. Halbridge. A Fade strong enough to control others¡ªto gather a pack and hold it together. Stronger. Smarter. Deadlier than anything they''d crossed so far.


    Bob scratched his head, exchanging a glance with Iris.


    Before he could speak, Renji continued, his tone smooth and calculated. "We''ve tracked its movements. It follows a patrol route, always looping back to the same sector. The best time to strike is tomorrow at dawn. That''s when it''s most exposed."


    Bob frowned. "So... it has to be on a schedule?"


    Renji nodded. "Exactly. Too early, and it won''t be there. Too late, and we risk losing it... or worse, it drifts somewhere we can''t control."


    Bob leaned back, thinking it over. It wasn''t the fight that bothered him. It was the planning. Fighting was supposed to happen when it happened. Wake up early for it? That was a first.


    Sly shifted beside him. "What do you think?"


    Bob looked at Iris. Gabe. Neither said a word.


    Finally, he shrugged. "Yeah... alright. We''ll handle it."


    Renji smiled. "Excellent. We''ll provide the details."


    And just like that, the deal was made.


    The Battle for the Safe Zones had started. Bob just didn''t know it yet.


    Renji gave them a place to stay. Food, water, a roof. The basics.


    But Bob barely lasted through the meal before standing up and stretching his arms over his head. "Ate too much. I''m gonna walk it off."


    Without waiting for permission, he left. The others followed without a word.


    They took the cart and drifted back into the Pink Fog, as if the safety of the Kuroda Safe Zone never existed. There was no real destination. Bob just started walking, and they went with him.


    They hunted small Fades in the dark. Nothing serious. Strays and weak packs. And the whole time, they knew they were being watched.


    Iris spotted the tail first. Gabe confirmed it.


    But no one said anything. They didn''t change their behavior. They didn''t bother to hide. They just kept moving, fighting, and eventually returned to the Safe Zone before nightfall like nothing happened.


    Back inside, Bob even mentioned the Caller job again. "We should rest. Got work tomorrow."


    They laid low through the night. The observer reported everything to Renji. Nothing suspicious. No trouble. Just routine.


    Until dawn.


    At the exact time they were supposed to meet for the Caller hunt, the place Kuroda had given them was empty.


    Gone. No sign of them.


    Renji was furious. "What do you mean they''re gone? They were there a few minutes ago!"


    The guards scrambled, checked the nearby streets, but there was nothing. Bob and his crew had vanished into the fog.


    And out there, just beyond the Safe Zone''s borders, the cart rolled quietly through the mist.Bob was lying flat on his back, snoring softly, his arms crossed over his chest like he hadn''t a care in the world. Still in his human form.


    Iris leaned over the side of the cart, watching the fog shift around them.


    "Should we wake him?"


    Gabe shook his head.


    "Leave him. If he wanted to be awake, he would be."


    Sly sat at the front, steering, his Glint form barely holding steady as he squinted into the distance. "Feels like we''re skipping work."


    No one answered. Because they were.


    Back at Kuroda, Renji''s patience ran out fast. With no sign of Bob''s team and no time left, he gave the order. Plan B.


    If Bob wouldn''t kill the Caller, they''d make sure the Caller helped them another way. They pushed their own people into the fog and started driving the Broodmother toward Okada territory.


    It didn''t take much.


    The Broodmother had been lingering near the border, waiting.


    She wasn''t just another Fade. She was a Caller¡ªa nightmare creature strong enough to gather and control others.


    She used to be just another stray wandering the fog. But after becoming a Caller, the Pink Fog shaped her into something worse¡ªa hive queen, twisting nearby Fades into spider-like creatures that served her swarm. Every Fade within her reach was forced to change, molded into part of her growing army.


    Bloated, hunched, and covered in layers of shifting, sticky webs. Her back was swollen with egg sacs pulsing with pink light, and thick, needle-like legs stabbed into the ground as she dragged herself forward.


    Where she moved, her children followed.


    The Broodmother''s swarm spread through the streets, filling the area with movement and hissing sounds. Nearly forty Fades, all shaped by her control, crawled and skittered in the dark, working together like a hunting pack.


    Webcrawlers moved along the walls and rooftops, their long, thin limbs making them fast climbers. Their sharp legs let them grip onto surfaces, waiting for the right moment to drop down on their targets. Broodlings, small but quick, burst from the sacs on the Broodmother''s back, swarming in large numbers. They were no bigger than dogs, but their sharp teeth could bite through armor. Behind them, the Spinners followed¡ªlarge and heavy, moving slowly but with purpose. They stayed close to the front lines, throwing webs to trap their enemies and stop them from escaping.


    The swarm kept pushing forward, filling every space, ready to tear apart anything in their way.


    This was a Caller''s army¡ªnot random strays, but an organized swarm, all connected to the Broodmother herself.


    Once stirred, she moved fast.


    By the time Okada''s scavengers noticed the threat, it was already too late.


    Over forty Fades poured into the area, swarming the front line. Webs coated the streets.


    Okada''s fighters barely had time to form a defense as the Broodmother loomed behind the swarm, watching from the fog with her eight glowing eyes, waiting for the moment to finish the job.


    Kuroda watched from a distance. Hidden. Waiting.


    They stayed just outside the fight, letting the Caller do their work for them. Webs spread through the streets. Screams echoed through the fog.Okada''s fighters were falling faster than they could hold the line.


    For Kuroda, it was all going according to plan.


    They thought they were finally winning. That this was under control. That nothing could go wrong.


    But they never thought to ask where Bob was.


    Out there, somewhere in the fog.


    Sleeping.

 Chapter 13: The Battle for Safe Zones Escalates

    Renji Kuroda watched from the rooftop, arms folded, gaze steady through the shifting Pink Fog.


    For days, the Kuroda family had been preparing to take the Okada Safe Zone. It was the perfect prize¡ªsecure walls, stable supplies, and a strong foothold in the region. But just as they were ready to strike, the Broodmother arrived.


    The Caller¡¯s sudden appearance ruined everything. Her web-choked territory settled right between Kuroda and Okada, making a clean attack impossible. Any direct assault would leave them torn apart before they even reached Okada¡¯s gates.


    So Renji found another way.


    Push the Broodmother into Okada¡¯s territory. Let her wipe them out. Then, when both sides were exhausted, Kuroda would step over the bodies and claim the Safe Zone for themselves.


    And it was working.


    Okada''s fighters were breaking.


    The streets were filled with Glints, each transformed into their own fantasy forms¡ªwerebeasts, drakes, ogres, and banshees. They fought together, back-to-back, blades and claws clashing against the Broodmother''s relentless swarm.


    But they were losing ground.


    Broodlings swarmed over them in waves, shredding armor and dragging fighters down. Webcrawlers dropped from the rooftops, tearing through the ranks. Sticky webs stretched between buildings, cutting off every escape.


    Okada''s line was buckling.


    Something stirred in the distance.


    A low rumble echoed from beyond the battlefield.


    Through the mist came the cart. Its wooden wheels creaked as it rolled forward, pulled steadily by Gabe, fully transformed in his Griffin form. His wings stayed half-spread, prepared for sudden flight. Feathers rustled as his sharp gaze scanned the chaos ahead, calculating the movements of the horde.


    Beside the cart moved Iris, already in her Valkyrie form, long feathers draped across her arms and shoulders. Her blade rested at her side as she jogged alongside the cart, eyes locked on the battlefield.


    On the other side, Sly kept pace, his Spectre form giving his body a faint, ghostlike blur. His hands hovered near his weapons, ready to strike.


    And in the back of the cart, resting like none of it mattered, lay Bob. He hadn''t even sat up yet, one arm behind his head, eyes barely open as the battlefield came into view.


    Okada¡¯s defenders caught sight of them. For a moment, no one knew what to think. Help? Strangers? Another enemy?


    Then the cart stopped.


    The Broodmother¡¯s eight glowing eyes shifted from Okada¡¯s fighters to the new arrivals. Her swollen body twitched, and her swarm hissed, as if sensing the change.


    Iris moved first.


    Without a word, she darted ahead. Her wings snapped open as her blade flashed into her hand. She collided with the first group of Webcrawlers, cutting through legs and bodies in wide, clean arcs. One lashed out, slicing across her shoulder. She hissed through gritted teeth but finished the fight, stepping over its body without pause. Blood dripped down her arm as she moved to the next target.


    Gabe veered off to the left, scanning the field. He didn¡¯t charge recklessly. He watched, waited, spotted the weak points.


    A pair of Broodlings tried to flank a group of tired Okada fighters. Gabe struck fast, slamming into the first with his claws, tearing it apart before it could reach them. The second managed to land a slash across his ribs before he turned and ended it with a snap of his beak.


    "Watch your sides," Gabe called out, shoving debris into a narrow path to block any more surprises.


    Sly disappeared into the fog before the first blade was swung. He moved between shadows, picking off stragglers. A Broodling tried to run¡ªSly was already there, driving a knife through its back. He vanished again, but not before a Webcrawler caught him with a lucky swipe, leaving a shallow cut across his forearm.


    Together with Okada¡¯s Glints, they formed a new front line. The battlefield shifted as the defenders finally had breathing room.


    But the swarm kept coming.


    And the Broodmother was still watching.


    Bob finally sat up in the cart, rubbing his eyes.


    He stood, stepping off the cart, landing quietly in the fog. The moment his foot hit the ground, his body shifted. His Goliath form surged to life, muscle and mass expanding as stone-like skin crawled across his arms and shoulders.


    He looked around the street, then grabbed a rusted street sign from the sidewalk, giving it a lazy spin over his shoulder.


    "Guess it''s my turn," he muttered.


    The Broodmother responded instantly. One of her long, needle-like legs shot forward, stabbing at him. Bob managed to deflect the strike with the sign, but the impact still knocked him back a few steps, leaving a gash across his side.


    He glanced down at the blood, then smirked.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    ---


    From the rooftop, Renji¡¯s smile faded.


    Bob wasn¡¯t supposed to be helping Okada.


    This was supposed to be over already.


    "Send the signal," Renji ordered. "Get the rest moving. Full force. We¡¯re taking the Safe Zone now. Kill anyone in the way."


    Only a handful of Kuroda scouts were near enough to watch the fight unfold. The main force was still moving through the fog, closing in on Okada¡¯s Safe Zone.


    They thought they were walking into an easy win.


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    But the fight took another sudden turn.


    A sharp hiss pierced through the battlefield, cutting through the clash of steel and dying screams like a warning. The ground trembled. From the far side of the ruins, something massive slithered into view, its long, scaled body weaving through the wreckage.


    Then¡ªshe appeared.


    The Serpent Caller had arrived! Her enormous form wound through the shattered streets, her glowing yellow eyes locking onto the chaos ahead. Her tongue flicked at the air, tasting the blood-soaked battlefield, sensing her next prey.


    The battle wasn¡¯t over.


    And it¡¯s about to get worse.


    Because she wasn¡¯t alone.


    Nearly forty Serpentkin spread out around her, each one shaped by the fog:


    Fangkin darted ahead, their thin, wiry bodies built for speed, hooked claws scraping against stone as they weaved through the ruins.


    Behind them, the Scalebinders moved with slow, crushing power, their thick coils dragging across the ground.


    Above, Venomspitters perched on broken walls, their jaws stretching wide as pink-tinged venom dripped from their fangs.


    The battlefield tensed.


    The Serpent Caller lifted her head, coils tightening, but her gaze wasn¡¯t on Okada.


    It wasn¡¯t on Bob.


    Her target was Kuroda¡¯s main force.


    With a sudden lunge, she struck forward, and her swarm followed.


    In an instant, the hunters became the hunted.


    And the chaos continued.


    The Broodmother¡¯s hiss filled the street, sharp and shrill. Her massive, bloated form pressed forward, stabbing her needle-like legs into the pavement. Bob met her charge head-on, the rusted street sign swinging like a club, metal bending from the force of his strikes.


    She was stronger than he expected.


    Every hit against her thick shell sent vibrations down his arms. When her leg caught him across the side, it left a deep gash along his ribs, tearing through the stone-like skin of his Goliath form. He winced but didn¡¯t slow down, dragging the sign through the ground before hurling it like a spear into one of her eyes.


    Okada¡¯s fighters held the front beside them. Their own Glints¡ªcentaurs, harpies, werewolves, and more¡ªfought with what strength they had left. Without Bob¡¯s crew, they would¡¯ve fallen hours ago.


    But the Broodmother refused to die.


    She slammed her weight into Bob, sending him skidding back across the street. He gritted his teeth, wiped the blood from his mouth, and rolled his shoulders.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s end this.¡±


    One last charge.


    Bob ducked under her next strike, grabbed a length of broken rebar from the ground, and drove it upward through the soft underbelly beneath her swollen sacs. She shrieked, legs flailing, but Bob didn¡¯t stop. He kept pushing until the Broodmother collapsed, her body twitching before finally going still.


    In an instant, the battlefield shifted.


    The Broodmother¡¯s swarm froze. With no Caller to guide them, they broke apart. Their attacks lost all coordination, and they scattered in confusion.


    Iris, Gabe, Sly, and the remaining Okada Glints cut them down quickly.


    What had been chaos just moments ago became silent wreckage.


    Okada¡¯s fighters took a breath. For now, they had survived.


    ---


    But on the other side of the battlefield, the fight was only getting worse.


    The Serpent Caller tore into Kuroda¡¯s forces.


    Renji¡¯s fighters were the first to fall. The Serpentkin moved fast, slipping through the fog and pulling Glints down before they could even react.


    Fangkin tore through armor.


    Scalebinders crushed anyone they caught.


    Venomspitters rained acid from above, melting through weapons and skin alike.


    Renji tried to rally his family, joining the fight himself, but it was too late. Half their forces were already dead. The ambush had torn them apart before they could even form a proper line.


    Renji fought hard, cutting through several of the Serpentkin with his own Glint form¡ªa towering, stone-armored brute¡ªbut the damage was done. The Serpent Caller coiled around a nearby building, watching calmly as the Kuroda family fell apart.


    Renji¡¯s blade struck her scales once, leaving a shallow cut that barely slowed her down.


    That was all the strength Kuroda had left.


    And when Renji fell, the rest broke.


    ---


    With the Broodmother dead and her swarm collapsing, the battlefield finally went quiet.


    But only for a moment.


    Bob wiped the blood from his mouth and glanced toward the horizon, where another Caller had struck Kuroda¡¯s forces.


    "Guess we''re not finished," he muttered.


    Noah Okada stepped forward, his armor cracked and streaked with dirt, exhaustion plain on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m Noah Okada, leader of this Safe Zone,¡± he said, giving Bob a quick nod. ¡°Appreciate the help back there.¡±


    He glanced toward the fog, where the faint sounds of distant fighting still echoed.


    ¡°According to our scouts, Kuroda¡¯s forces ran into another Caller while trying to regroup. Big one. Serpent-type. It''s been tearing through them since the moment they moved."


    Bob gave a lazy shrug. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    They didn¡¯t wait. What was left of Okada¡¯s fighters gathered, many still limping from the Broodmother¡¯s assault, but determined. Bob¡¯s crew fell in beside them. The short march toward Kuroda''s former position was silent except for the dragging of boots and the occasional groan from half-healed wounds.


    Stage 1 transformations were doing their work. Cuts sealed. Bruises faded. Even Sly, though still paler than usual, was slowly regaining his footing.


    ¡°Feeling better?¡± Iris asked as they moved.


    Sly flexed his fingers. ¡°Good enough to not die. Probably.¡±


    Gabe¡¯s sharp eyes stayed fixed on the distant shadows. ¡°Let¡¯s just not make this a habit.¡±


    By the time they reached the ruins of Kuroda¡¯s last stand, the Serpent Caller was still there.


    She coiled around the broken walls, her long, scaled body winding through the fog. Glowing yellow eyes watched them from a distance.


    Her remaining Serpentkin circled nearby, fewer now after their slaughter of Kuroda¡¯s forces but still dangerous.


    Bob rolled his shoulders and stepped forward, cracking his neck.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°I guess round two starts now.¡±


    The Serpentkin attacked first. Fangkin darted from the fog, claws flashing as they tore into the front line. The Okada Glint warriors met them head-on, slashing with talons, striking with hardened limbs, and using their armored bodies to push back¡ªbut exhaustion had made them slower.


    Bob¡¯s crew filled the gaps.


    Iris took the left, clashing with a Scalebinder. Its thick coils wrapped around her leg, but she drove her blade down into its neck before it could tighten. She stumbled free, panting, blood trickling down her arm from another reopened wound.


    Gabe launched upward, ripping a Venomspitter off a rooftop before it could rain acid down on the group. It clawed his shoulder on the way down, leaving deep scratches across his back.


    Sly flashed through the chaos, slipping between the Fangkin. He landed a clean strike through one¡¯s spine, but another clipped his side with its tail, nearly knocking him off his feet.


    And Bob?


    Bob aimed straight for the Serpent Caller herself.


    She lunged at him, fangs snapping. He ducked under the first strike and slammed his fist into her jaw, sending a shockwave through her coils. But she wasn¡¯t weak. Her tail whipped around, striking Bob square in the chest and sending him crashing into the side of a broken wall.


    He coughed, shaking the dust off as he stood.


    "Yeah... definitely stronger than the last one."


    The fight dragged on. Okada¡¯s forces held as best they could, Noah leading them through the chaos, but the Serpentkin weren¡¯t giving up easily. Every time they cut one down, another slid from the shadows.


    Finally, after a brutal exchange, Bob found his opening.


    As the Serpent Caller reared back to strike, he drove a jagged steel beam straight through her throat. The creature hissed, body twisting in violent spasms before finally falling still, coils unraveling across the ground.


    The remaining Serpentkin scattered, aimless without her control.


    The battlefield fell silent again.


    Noah didn''t wait. With the Serpent threat gone and Kuroda¡¯s survivors weak and scattered, he turned his forces on them without hesitation.


    "For everything you did to us," Noah said, his voice cold and final, "this ends tonight."


    The Kuroda family never stood a chance. Renji, barely alive, his body torn open from deep wounds, dragged himself forward in a last, desperate attempt to escape. His once-mighty Glint form¡ªhulking, armored in jagged stone¡ªwas breaking apart. Blood dripped from his claws as he stumbled. He made it three steps. On the fourth, a taloned hand crushed him into the dirt. Claws tore through his side, ending him where he fell.


    The rest of Kuroda¡¯s warriors quickly saw the truth¡ªthey were finished.


    Some threw down their weapons¡ªcrude spears, rusted blades¡ªwhile others, still in monstrous Glint forms, raised their clawed hands, spiked limbs, or wings in surrender. Their resolve shattered, their glowing eyes dimmed.


    But hesitation was fatal.


    Those who lingered, still thinking of resistance, were cut down instantly¡ªpierced, crushed, or torn apart. The battlefield became a graveyard of fallen warriors and broken creatures.


    When the last scream faded, only Okada¡¯s warriors stood.


    The battle was over. Their control over the region was absolute.

 Chapter 14: The Call to War

    The battle was over.


    Kuroda was gone.


    After the battle, Okada''s forces wasted no time. They seized Kuroda''s meteor fragment and merged it with their own. The moment the two fragments connected, the Safe Zone expanded, its barrier stretching twice as far.


    Everything that had once been Kuroda''s Safe Zone¡ªthe walls, the buildings, the streets¡ªwas swallowed by the Pink Fog. The people who survived had no choice. Some joined Okada, pledging loyalty to Noah and his family. Others gathered what they could and left, disappearing into the fog to try their luck elsewhere.


    Bob and his crew were invited into the Safe Zone as guests.


    For the first time in days, there was no immediate threat. The fog stayed beyond the new, wider borders. The air was still.


    Repairs had already begun. Fires were put out. Walls reinforced. Supplies shared.


    That night, the survivors gathered in what was left of the market square. Okada''s people, a few Kuroda defectors, and Bob''s crew sat wherever they could find a spot, sharing what little food was left.


    It wasn''t much, but after everything they''d been through, it felt like a feast.


    Bob stretched out on a bench near the edge of the square, arms folded across his chest, eyes closed.


    Gabe sat perched on the roof of an old shop, staring down at them with that same unreadable look. "We shouldn''t get comfortable. Places like this don''t stay quiet for long."


    "Dude, you''re a real ray of sunshine," Sly called out, casually slipping another bread roll into his coat when he thought no one was looking. "Ever think about lightening up? Maybe crack a joke that doesn''t make people rethink their life choices?"


    "I saw that," Iris said without even looking.


    "I''m keeping it safe for later," Sly shot back, grinning.


    For a little while, it felt normal.


    No Callers.


    No battles.


    No running.


    Just quiet.


    People talked in low voices. Someone even laughed. The fires burned low. Plates scraped clean.


    Bob finally drifted off, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only thing filling the silence on his side of the square.


    And then the comms crackled to life.


    A sharp burst of static tore through the air.


    Every conversation stopped. Someone dropped a cup. Chairs scraped as people straightened up, listening.


    Everyone in the Safe Zone turned toward the old speaker systems mounted along the walls.


    The static cleared.


    Then the voice came through, clear and steady, carrying weight and purpose.


    "To all active Safe Zones and combat forces. This is a priority broadcast from central command. A general-class Fade has been confirmed near the old capital. Its nest is growing. If left unchecked, it will spread beyond containment."


    A pause. The voice sharpened.


    "This is a call to arms. All capable forces are ordered to mobilize. We cannot afford hesitation. We cannot afford retreat. Stand ready. Join the assault. For the safety of your Zones. For the future of us all... fight."


    The transmission ended.


    Silence rolled through the Safe Zone like a wave.


    The old capital was too close.


    And just like that, the brief peace was gone.


    "We barely made it through two Callers," Iris said quietly from nearby, arms crossed as she leaned against the bench. "And now they want us to fight a General?"


    Bob sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders with a tired grunt."Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.


    Iris gave him a sideways glance. "You worried?"


    Bob yawned. "Nah. Just annoyed."


    Sly, still sitting near the food table with crumbs on his shirt, glanced around the square."...Hey. What''s a general-level Fade again?"


    Gabe, still perched above them, eyes watching the distant fog, answered without looking down.


    "A Boss."


    ---


    Bob and Noah agreed to travel together, with Noah selecting a handful of his men while the rest remained behind to guard the base. At dawn, they set out, stepping into the dense pink fog, making their way toward the meeting point.


    Noah Okada led the march, his Drake form as a Glint fully awakened. His body had taken on sleek, reptilian traits, his limbs lean and coiled with energy, built for speed and precision. The scaled skin along his arms and neck shimmered faintly, adapting seamlessly to his movements. Every step carried him forward with minimal effort, his body instinctively flowing through the terrain like it was second nature.


    Beside him, Bob walked with zero urgency, his Goliath form making him a towering wall of unstoppable strength. His frame had hardened, his already-massive body covered in dense, stone-like muscle. He didn''t try to move fast¡ªhe didn''t need to. His sheer presence forced the ground to acknowledge him, each step pressing deep into the dirt as if he weighed more than he should.


    Trailing just ahead, Sly moved differently than before. His Shadow Specter form made him fade in and out of sight, slipping through the fog like he wasn''t bound to the same rules of movement as everyone else. But this time, it wasn''t just stealth¡ªhe was shadow stepping.


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    One moment he was there. The next, he wasn''t.


    Noah barely had time to register it before Sly flickered forward, appearing several meters ahead in an instant.


    Bob frowned. "Huh."


    Sly turned back with a grin. "Took me long enough, but I got it. Stage 3. Shadow Step!"


    Noah raised a brow. "What? You''re already at Stage 3? You just used a fog skill, right? shadow step?"


    Sly''s grin widened as he flickered forward again, reappearing effortlessly a few meters ahead. "Hell yeah. That''s what I''m saying! I finally cracked it¡ªboom, Shadow step."


    Noah furrowed his brow, something in his chest tightening. He had only just reached Stage 1, struggling to get a feel for his own fog energy. But here was Sly¡ªalready at Stage 3?


    For a split second, Sly considered correcting Noah, telling him that he still needed quite a bit before even reaching Stage 1¡ªbut why would he?


    This was his moment, and he was damn proud of what he''d pulled off.


    So instead, he nodded confidently. "Yeah, man. Crazy, right?"


    Bob scratched his head, watching Sly skip around. "Internal fog energy, huh?"


    Sly nodded. "Yeah, dude, that''s the trick. You don''t just move your body¡ªyou move your fog energy first, and your body follows. Simple."


    Bob didn''t reply. Instead, he lifted a hand and let fog condense into a massive club, shaping it like it was second nature. He gave it a few lazy swings before resting it on his shoulder.


    Sly''s grin vanished. "Wait¡ªwhat?"


    Bob nodded, satisfied. "Feels natural."


    Sly groaned, throwing his arms up. "Oh, COME ON!"


    Noah exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk. He was still processing his own breakthrough, and now two people around him were already skipping ahead¡ªliterally.


    It was frustrating. But more than that¡­ it was motivating.


    Then, suddenly, the ground trembled.


    A deep, gurgling hiss echoed through the fog.


    Noah''s body reacted instantly. His Drake form-enhanced reflexes kicked in before his mind could process the movement. He twisted mid-step just as a Fade burst from the mist, its grotesque, elongated body lunging with razor-sharp limbs.


    Another six¡ªno, seven of them appeared from the fog, surrounding the group.


    Iris moved fast, her Valkyrie form enhancing her agility, allowing her to dodge as a creature swiped at her mid-air. Her golden wings flared, and she spun around with a downward kick, sending the monster sprawling.


    Gabe took off into the sky, his Griffin form activating as his feet left the ground in a single burst of motion. His enhanced vision locked onto a Fade trying to flank Noah, and with one sharp dive, he crashed into it from above, knocking it flat before slashing its throat.


    Bob wasn''t even trying to dodge.


    As one of the creatures lunged at him, he swung his fog club with devastating force, catching the Fade mid-air and sending it flying backward. The impact alone cracked the pavement beneath them, the monster''s body crumpling like discarded paper.


    Noah moved with precise, reptilian efficiency, his clawed hands tearing through another Fade''s throat before spinning to avoid another''s jagged bite.


    Sly wasn''t even standing still long enough for them to touch him.


    He flickered in and out of existence, appearing just long enough to slash a weak point before vanishing into the mist again. The Fades swung wildly, missing every time, unable to track his movement.


    One of them tried to flee¡ªonly to suddenly stop moving as a shadow loomed over it.


    Bob swung his club one-handed, and the weapon stretched unnaturally mid-air, elongating as if made of living fog before slamming into the Fade''s spine with a sickening crunch.


    The battlefield went still.


    Noah exhaled, shaking off the residual tension. "They''re getting more aggressive."


    Bob grabbed his weapon, letting the compressed fog dissipate into nothing. "Stronger, too."


    Sly popped his neck. "No big deal. We''re stronger."


    Noah looked at him. "Are we?"


    For once, Sly didn''t have a quick answer.


    ---


    It took them more than two hours to reach the designated meeting point, at the heart of the Oyster Bay Safe Zone.


    The Oyster Bay Safe Zone had seen better days.


    Once a thriving coastal city, now it was little more than a dying outpost, its buildings half-crumbling under the weight of time and the creeping fog that threatened to consume it. The center plaza, once meant for trade and community gatherings, had become a rallying point for something far graver.


    This wasn''t a marketplace anymore. It was a staging ground for war.


    When Noah and his Okada Family arrived, the first thing he noticed was that they weren''t the first ones here.


    Two groups already stood waiting in the plaza, their presence still and unreadable.


    The first was a large, disciplined force¡ªsilent, unmoving, their sheer presence heavy with authority. Noah''s first thought was immediate: The Government.


    The second was much smaller, yet somehow more unsettling. Two figures stood apart from the others, barely acknowledging the world around them.


    Noah and his family approached carefully, their movements smooth, measured. Beside them, Bob''s crew walked with a complete lack of tension, as if this was just another stop on an uneventful journey.


    The silent force of soldiers turned toward them, their attention sharp but unreadable. One of them, a towering man built like an iron wall, stepped forward.


    His voice was deep, controlled. "You must be Noah Okada."


    Noah met his gaze evenly. "That''s right."


    The man nodded. "I am Marcus Hale. This is Selene Ward. We represent the Hounds¡ªa force under the government."


    The government. Noah''s thoughts immediately sharpened. He had heard rumors¡ªwhispers of government remnants trying to rebuild order, reclaim control. He hadn''t expected them to show up in force.


    The woman beside Marcus, Selene, remained quiet, her expression unreadable. She radiated a cold, efficient deadliness, twin daggers strapped to her sides. Noah could tell that if a fight broke out right now, she''d be the first to move¡ªand possibly the last one standing.


    Marcus gestured to the two silent figures standing off to the side.


    "They are Ren and Aya Hayashi of the Hayashi Family," Marcus continued. "I assume you''ve heard of them."


    Noah had. The Hayashi twins.


    The Hayashi Family was a name that carried weight long before the world fell into chaos. Once an influential clan with deep ties to business, politics, and even underground networks, they held power that stretched beyond borders. Even after the apocalypse, their legacy endured. Unlike other factions that scrambled for control, the twins had never sworn loyalty to anyone, nor had they ever taken orders from a higher power. They fought for their own reasons, and that alone made them unpredictable.


    Neither of them spoke. They simply observed.


    Noah exhaled, rolling his shoulders before giving Marcus a respectful nod. "Understood." He turned, motioning to his own people. "I''m Noah Okada. This is my family. We survived the Kuroda Safe Zone collapse and have been operating as an independent unit ever since."


    Marcus gave a curt nod in return. He understood what wasn''t being said. The Okada Family had experience. They weren''t just another band of survivors.


    Beside Noah, Gabe grinned. "And this is Bob," he added casually. "And, uh¡­ we''re his friends."


    Bob gave a lazy wave. "Yo."


    Sly leaned in toward Gabe. "Could''ve hyped us up a bit more, dude."


    Gabe shrugged. "I mean¡­ that is the most accurate description."


    Marcus studied Bob for a moment, his gaze unreadable, but the tension in the air around the Hounds was unmistakable. They had heard the stories¡ªhow this man had single-handedly brought down an entire safe zone. Rumors painted him as a force of nature, an unstoppable wrecking ball that cared little for alliances or authority.


    For the first time since their arrival, the Hounds weren''t just assessing him¡ªthey were in awe.


    Before anyone could speak further, the air changed.


    Laughter.


    It echoed through the plaza, loud and unrestrained, breaking the tense silence.


    A wave of figures emerged through the ruined streets, walking with swaggering arrogance, their voices carrying easily over the still air.


    "The DMW Gang had arrived!" someone shouted, their voice cutting through the tense silence.


    Almost immediately, a chant followed, growing louder as the gang swaggered into the plaza.


    "Deadman Walking! Gang! Deadman Walking! Gang!"


    Their voices echoed through the safe zone, each repetition carrying an air of arrogance, as if they had already claimed victory before the battle had even begun.


    At the front of them was Big Roz, his imposing frame exuding confidence as he strode forward with a wide grin. He took in the gathered forces with a look of amusement, then threw his arms wide.


    "Well, well, well¡ªlook at all the little squads, huh?"


    His gang fanned out behind him, twenty-seven members all walking with unearned confidence, as if they had already won a fight that hadn''t even started yet.


    "Four-man teams? Family squads?" Big Roz barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Pfft! This is a war, people!" He gestured at the gang behind him, throwing his arms wide. "Look at us¡ªwe brought a whole damn army."


    Noah said nothing.


    Marcus remained expressionless.


    The Hayashi Twins didn''t even glance at them.


    Bob cracked his knuckles. "Huh. That''s a lot of dead guys."


    Sly snorted. "Called it."


    Sixty-seven warriors stood in the plaza, each carrying their own agendas, their own abilities, their own reasons for being here.

 Chapter 15: The War Begins

    The Oyster Bay Safe Zone was built to endure, but survival was never guaranteed.


    The gathered warriors stood in the center plaza as Mayor Elias Crowe approached, flanked by a few of his aides. Despite the weight of the situation, he carried himself with a practiced calm, the kind of presence honed through years of political maneuvering.


    ¡°We¡¯ll provide food, supplies, and shelter while you¡¯re here,¡± Crowe said, his voice smooth and measured. ¡°But we won¡¯t be sending any of our people to fight.¡±


    His words hung in the air, met with silence from the assembled warriors.


    Noah studied the man carefully. It wasn¡¯t fear that held him back¡ªit was calculated self-preservation. Crowe had already decided that Oyster Bay would endure, but only by staying out of this fight.


    Marcus folded his arms, his expression unreadable. ¡°You¡¯re choosing to wait this out?¡±


    Crowe met his gaze evenly. ¡°I¡¯m choosing to keep this safe zone intact.¡±


    Sly let out a low whistle. ¡°So you get to sit pretty while we go deal with the problem?¡±


    Crowe didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°You came here by choice. So did we.¡±


    The mayor wasn¡¯t backing down, and it was clear there would be no changing his mind.


    Marcus exhaled, glancing at Noah before giving Crowe a curt nod. ¡°Then we won¡¯t waste any more time.¡±


    Without another word, the five groups turned and left¡ªheading into the Pink Fog while the people of Oyster Bay remained behind.


    ---


    The five groups moved as one, leaving the walls of Oyster Bay behind.


    The government had reliable intel on the boss, a vampire known as the Crimson Count. What little they did know painted him as a vampire lord, a boss-level Fade who ruled over a ruined city swallowed by the Pink Fog.


    A vampire meant one thing¡ªthey weren¡¯t fighting him under the sun.


    The plan was simple: move into position before sundown and attack once night fell.


    No one spoke much as they walked, the pink mist curling around their bodies, their Glint forms activated for protection.


    Bob walked at the back, moving at his own pace. He barely seemed interested in the march, letting the others lead while he occasionally swung a fog-forged club at the debris they passed.


    Ahead of him, Noah and Marcus led the formation, scanning for threats.


    Big Roz and the DMW Gang, unsurprisingly, didn¡¯t care for formations. They swaggered through the fog as if nothing could touch them, their numbers giving them confidence that reality wouldn¡¯t support.


    And in the distance, beyond the ruins and fog, a fortress loomed.


    It was a castle long abandoned by time, its stone walls cracked, its towers broken, yet it still stood, pulsing with an eerie presence. Even without seeing him, they could feel it¡ªsomething inside was watching.


    Inside that fortress of ruin, he waited. The Crimson Count.


    But something in the air shifted.


    Iris didn¡¯t know why, but a chill crawled up his spine. He turned to glance back at Oyster Bay¡ªjust once.


    He had a bad feeling.


    ---


    Later that night, the peaceful night in Oyster Bay was broken by a scream.


    It came suddenly, sharp and panicked, ringing through the quiet streets. At first, it was just one. Then another. Then more. Within minutes, the entire safe zone was filled with shouts, cries, and the sounds of chaos.


    Near the western gate, a man stood in the doorway of his home, breathing heavily, his hands shaking. His wife lay motionless on the floor, blood spreading beneath her. His young daughter looked up at him, confused, waiting for him to say something.


    His head ached, his chest pounded.


    The moon was red in his eyes.


    The safe zone¡¯s meteor fragment¡¯s glow stabbed into his skull, so bright it felt like it was burning him from the inside. The pressure grew stronger and stronger, twisting his thoughts, drowning out everything else.


    He raised the knife again.


    Across the street, another door flew open. A woman ran outside, gasping, blood on her hands. She barely made it two steps before her husband tackled her to the ground.


    Further down, a boy ran into the open, calling for help¡ªonly for his father to chase after him, gripping a crowbar.


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    More houses came alive with the same horror. People stumbling out, attacking each other, their minds lost. The infected had awoken.


    Mayor Elias Crowe had been in his office when the first scream came. He had ignored it at first, but now he stood in the plaza, watching as his people tore each other apart.


    He raised his voice. "Everyone, return to your homes! Guards, contain the situation!"


    No one listened.


    The infected didn¡¯t hesitate, didn¡¯t recognize friend from foe. They weren¡¯t turning into monsters, but they had lost control.


    Elias grabbed the radio, his grip tight. "Report! What¡¯s happening out there?"


    Static. Then a panicked voice.


    "They¡ª they¡¯re attacking us! It¡¯s¡ªAAAGH¡ª!"


    The line went dead.


    He grabbed his gun and rushed toward the streets, his guards following behind. They had to stop this before it got worse.


    But it was already too late.


    The infected were drawn to their safe zone¡¯s meteor fragment.


    Elias¡¯s breath caught as he saw dozens of them running toward it, their hands clawing at their heads as if the light was stabbing into their brains.


    "Stop them!" he shouted.


    The guards hesitated. These weren¡¯t enemies. These were their own people.


    That hesitation sealed Oyster Bay¡¯s fate.


    The first rock struck the meteor fragment. A sharp crack rang through the plaza.


    Then another.


    Then another.


    A deep fracture split across its surface. The glow flickered.


    Elias pushed forward, his voice desperate. "NO! STOP!"


    The meteor shattered.


    A burst of light exploded outward¡ªthen vanished.


    The Pink Fog poured in immediately, sweeping over the safe zone like a flood.


    Buildings disappeared within seconds. The screams were cut short.


    Elias stood frozen, watching everything disappear into the mist.


    Oyster Bay was gone.


    There was nothing left to save.


    He turned and ran, the city vanishing behind him.


    ---


    The five groups reached the entrance of the castle. The towering gates were cracked and covered in blood-colored vines, the stone walls broken and worn by time. The air felt heavy, like something was watching them.


    Then, the fog shifted.


    A strange silence fell over the ruins. A faint scraping sound echoed through the mist, followed by slow, shuffling footsteps.


    Red eyes appeared in the darkness. Then more.


    The first thrall emerged, its body hunched and twisted, its skin stretched over sharp bones. It let out a rattling hiss before charging. More followed, pouring from the ruins, crawling over walls, rushing toward them.


    Marcus Hale moved first.


    His Glint, a Behemoth, fully activated, transforming him into a towering, four-legged juggernaut of raw defense. His body was covered in thick, armor-like plates, each section layered like a walking fortress. His massive, pillar-like legs crushed the ground beneath him with every step, shaking the battlefield as he barreled forward. A heavy, reinforced head, like that of a war-elephant fused with a rhinoceros, led his charge, forming an impenetrable frontline against the rushing thralls.


    "Hold the line!" His voice thundered across the battlefield as the Hounds locked into formation, their bodies braced like a living wall of fangs, claws, and armored hides. Talons dug into the dirt, spiked limbs angled forward, and jagged horns lowered for impact. The enemy crashed into them like a tidal wave, but the line held, unyielding.


    Beside him, Selene Ward became a blur.


    Her Glint a Banshee made her weightless, her speed inhuman. She vanished and reappeared, weaving between the enemy forces like a whisper in the wind. Every flicker of movement ended with a dagger plunging into a vital point¡ªthroats sliced, tendons severed, hearts pierced before they could even react.


    She was more than fast. She was untouchable.


    Not far from them, the Hayashi Twins moved without a sound.


    Ren Hayashi, his Shade form active, was more shadow than man. He didn¡¯t block attacks¡ªhe simply wasn¡¯t there when they landed. One moment, a thrall lunged for him, claws extended¡ªand in the next breath, he was behind it, his blade severing its head cleanly. His movements were fluid, effortless, his presence like a mirage that never truly settled into place.


    Aya Hayashi was the opposite.


    Her Glint a Revenant made her every strike lethal. She didn¡¯t waste movements. Every attack was a kill. Where Ren disappeared, she ended fights in a single motion¡ªher blade finding gaps in even the toughest armor, her instincts honed to a perfect edge.


    And then, there was the DMW Gang.


    Big Roz charged first, his Glint is a Fenrir, transforming him into a beast of pure aggression. His muscles expanded, his speed tripled, his clawed hands ripping through enemies as if they were made of paper. His war cries echoed through the battlefield, his body a blur of raw destruction.


    Big Roz tore through the battlefield like a rampaging beast, his Fenrir Glint in full effect. His muscles had swollen with power, his movements faster than they should have been for a man of his size. He ripped through the thralls, his claws tearing into their flesh, his laughter echoing through the chaos.


    But he wasn¡¯t watching his surroundings.


    The vampire thralls moved like a pack, adapting, circling him in silence. While Roz was busy tearing apart one, another leaped onto his back, sinking its claws into his shoulders. He roared in frustration, shaking it off, but three more took its place.


    The DMW Gang had pushed too far, charging without caution. The first of their own were already dead, but Roz wasn¡¯t paying attention. He was too caught up in the thrill of the fight¡ªuntil he wasn¡¯t.


    The Thralls had swarmed first, mindless and relentless. But then, something faster moved among them.


    A Blood Stalker¡ªstronger, faster, and deadlier than the rest¡ªrushed in, its claws cutting deep into Roz¡¯s side before she could react.


    He grunted, stumbling for the first time. The overwhelming numbers were slowing him down.


    More thralls descended on him, sensing weakness. One clamped onto his arm, another lunged at his throat. Roz raised his claws to fight back, but the weight of them was too much. He was going to be torn apart.


    Then, the ground shook.


    A massive figure charged into the fray, scattering the Thralls like ragdolls. Marcus Hale loomed over Roz, his Behemoth Glint fully activated¡ªa living fortress of plated muscle and armored hide.


    The ground shook as he landed, and a Blood Stalker lunged at him, claws outstretched. It was like watching an insect throw itself against a mountain. Marcus didn¡¯t even flinch.


    His massive trunk swung, smashing the creature sideways with bone-crushing force. Before it could recover, he stomped down, his pillar-like leg caving in its chest with a sickening crunch.


    "Move," Marcus ordered.


    Roz hesitated, still catching his breath, still processing the fact that he had almost died.


    Marcus didn¡¯t wait. He took the fight head-on, standing in the gap where Roz had fallen, his heavy fists slamming through anything that dared to get close.


    Roz finally pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth as he stared at Marcus.


    But he said nothing. He just stepped back into the fight, his movements a little slower, his confidence a little more fractured.


    Marcus didn¡¯t acknowledge him further. He was already turning back to the battle, his Behemoth Glint carrying him forward, clearing a path through the remaining thralls with devastating force.


    But the rest of the DMW Gang lacked his power.


    They charged wildly, fighting without coordination, relying on bravado instead of strategy.


    And the thralls tore into them.


    The first to fall didn¡¯t even have time to scream.


    A blur of fangs and claws descended upon them, bodies hitting the ground in an explosion of blood. Within minutes, six of them were gone¡ªripped apart by their own arrogance.


    Bob watched from the sidelines, barely engaging.


    Every now and then, he swung his fog-forged club, smashing a thrall into paste¡ªbut he wasn¡¯t focused on them.


    He was looking for something else.


    He was looking for the boss.


    ---


    The battlefield was littered with fallen Thralls and few Blood Stalkers, their bodies ripped apart by claws, impaled on jagged horns, or crushed beneath massive limbs. Even the few Glints who had fought and lost lay broken, their monstrous forms twisted in death. Blood soaked the ground, pooling in the cracks of broken stone. The Pink Fog rolled through the ruins, drifting over the bodies. The air reeked of iron, thick with the stench of death.


    And then, finally, he arrived.


    Atop the decayed remnants of an old cathedral, a dark figure stood motionless, the tattered edges of his cloak barely shifting in the wind. He gazed down at the battlefield as if admiring his own work, his eyes glowing a deep, predatory crimson.


    Then, without a word, the Vampire Lord, Crimson Count, descended.

 Chapter 16: The Tides of War

    The Crimson Count glided in, weightless¡ªlike a specter of death. His form solidified as his feet touched the ground, standing among the carnage as if he had always been there.


    He didn¡¯t need to announce himself. His presence alone was enough.


    Marcus was already moving.


    "On me!" the Behemoth roared, surging forward. The ground cracked beneath his weight as he charged, his armor-plated body an unstoppable force. His massive head barreled toward the Count like a living battering ram, ready to crush him on impact.


    But it never landed.


    The Crimson Count barely acknowledged the attack, tilting his head as if unimpressed¡ªthen he was gone.


    Marcus¡¯s charge struck nothing but empty air.


    The Banshee, Selene, was already on the move. The moment the Count dodged Marcus¡¯s charge, she appeared where he landed, her twin daggers flickering in rapid succession. Each strike targeted the gaps in his form¡ªbut not a single one connected.


    The Crimson Count drifted effortlessly between the attacks, untouched. Then, with a faint smirk, he whispered, ¡°Amusing. Hi hi hi.¡±


    Then, Bob moved.


    No pause. No wasted motion.


    He swung first¡ªwithout thought, without restraint.


    His fog-club came down like a wrecking ball, the sheer force of it shattering the ground on impact. The Crimson Count barely managed to sidestep¡ªexpecting a gap, a moment to reposition.


    But Bob didn¡¯t stop.


    Before the first attack had even finished, his second swing was already coming¡ªfaster, wilder, and too wide to fully evade.


    This time, it hit.


    The Count was forced backward, landing lightly several feet away, his feet touching the ground with no more impact than a feather.


    Then, his smirk deepened¡ªturning into a genuine smile.


    "Ah," the Count murmured, his voice rich and smooth. "A challenge. Hi hi hi."


    Bob didn¡¯t reply.


    He just swung again.


    The Crimson Count exhaled slowly, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a snarl.


    ¡°Blood Surge.¡±


    The moment his feet touched the blood-soaked ground, the battlefield seemed to pulse¡ªas if something had awakened beneath him. The blood moved, drawn to him like iron to a magnet, soaking into his form. His muscles tensed, his frame sharpening, his speed exploding past its previous limits.


    Bob¡¯s fog-club swung down, a brutal, decisive strike.


    He swung mid-transformation, aiming to crush him before the power could fully take hold.


    The fog-club whooshed through the air¡ªTHWAM!


    It should have connected.


    Instead, the Count was gone¡ªnot dodging, not sidestepping, but vanishing mid-motion.


    A blink later, he was beside Bob.


    Before Bob could react, a clawed hand slammed into his chest.


    WHAM!


    The next thing Bob knew, he was airborne.


    The impact launched him through the ruins, stone and debris shattering as he crashed through walls. The ground trembled from the sheer force.


    Marcus surged forward, slamming his massive foot down, cutting off the Count before he could follow up on Bob. The impact shook the ground, his towering form a living barricade between the two.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡± Marcus growled, planting himself like a wall.


    At the same moment, Selene flickered behind the Count, her daggers flashing in a blur.


    ¡°I¡¯m still here.¡± Her voice was sharp and cold.


    Her blades struck true¡ªslicing into his side and shoulder¡ªbut the wounds closed instantly, sealing as if they had never been there.


    The Count turned to her, his grin stretching wider, his crimson eyes gleaming.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he whispered, voice thick with amusement. ¡°You¡¯ll need to do better than that. Hi hi hi.¡±


    Without warning, he lashed out, his claws slicing through the air¡ªaimed straight at where Selene had just been.


    But she was already gone.


    The Crimson Count stood at the center of the battlefield, his blood-red cloak barely shifting as his glowing eyes moved from one warrior to the next¡ªmeasuring them, judging them.


    Then his gaze snapped to Selene.


    The smile faded.


    ¡°Tired of this game.¡±


    He exhaled slowly, lifting a hand toward the sky.


    ¡°Blood Eclipse.¡±


    The change was instant.


    The pink sky deepened into crimson in an instant. The shift was sudden, overwhelming. Shadows warped and stretched unnaturally, curling across the ground as the Pink Fog thickened, pressing down like an unseen force.


    Then came the weight.


    A crushing force slammed across the battlefield. Muscles stiffened. Movement dulled. Everyone felt it immediately¡ªlimbs heavy, breath strained, the air pressing down like a weight.


    Selene flickered¡ªor tried to. Her step stuttered, her speed no longer untouchable. The Eclipse dragged at her, slowing even her Glint-enhanced motion.


    The Crimson Count lowered his hand, satisfied as the battlefield slowed to a crawl.


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    "No more running. Hi hi hi."


    Marcus planted his feet, his Behemoth Glint flaring as he resisted the pull. Even with his monstrous strength, the pressure was real. He scanned the battlefield.


    Selene was still moving¡ªbut just barely. Every step looked strained, her body fighting the pressure with sheer will.


    The Hayashi Twins weren¡¯t moving at all.


    They stood near the battlefield¡¯s edge, swords drawn, their expressions unreadable. Unlike the others, Ren and Aya weren¡¯t affected by the Eclipse. They could move¡ªbut chose not to.


    They simply watched¡ªas if waiting for the right moment.


    And then there was Bob.


    He didn¡¯t slow. He didn¡¯t strain. If he even felt the shift in the air, the sluggish pull, he didn¡¯t show it. His Goliath Glint made him a walking force of nature, and the blood-drenched battlefield changed nothing.


    But something was wrong.


    Bob¡¯s fog-club swung once¡ªhard and direct.


    The Crimson Count didn¡¯t dodge. The blow landed square against his chest¡ªonly to disappear into him.


    ¡°That all you¡¯ve got? Hi hi hi...¡± the Count muttered, his voice calm, almost bored.


    Then the weight pressing down on the battlefield intensified.


    Bob swung again.


    THWAM!


    Another direct hit to the Count¡¯s chest.


    The Crimson Count barely flinched¡ªbut the weight on the battlefield spiked instantly.


    Gabe crashed to the ground, his wings too heavy to keep him airborne.


    Sly''s legs sank into the dirt, his feet buried.


    Iris, Selene collapsed to one knee, struggling against the crushing force.


    Noah clenched his fists, shaking, but he couldn¡¯t move.


    Bob didn¡¯t stop.


    He swung a third time¡ªfaster, stronger.


    THWAMMM!


    The battlefield caved beneath them, stone cracking and dirt buckling under the force.


    All around, shouts and cries rang out as the pressure intensified again.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting heavier!¡± someone yelled.


    ¡°Make it stop!¡±


    The weight was crushing them.


    Marcus felt the shift just as his own feet sank up to his knees. The others were worse off¡ªthey couldn¡¯t even stand.


    Marcus was close¡ªclose enough to see Bob winding up for another swing.


    The weight crushed down on him, each step like dragging stone, but he moved.


    With a strained roar, Marcus slammed into Bob¡¯s chest, stopping him mid-step. The impact barely made Bob flinch, but Marcus held firm, his stance like an unmovable wall.


    ¡°Not this time,¡± Marcus growled.


    Bob¡¯s grip on his weapon tightened. ¡°Move.¡±


    Marcus didn¡¯t. ¡°Look around, Bob. Every hit you land makes him stronger.¡±


    Bob''s teeth clenched. He knew. He felt it. Every attack had fed the Count¡ªnot just absorbing the blows, but amplifying the Blood Eclipse¡¯s effect.


    But standing still¡ªdoing nothing¡ªwasn¡¯t in his nature.


    A strained voice cut through the battlefield.


    "Bob, stop! This isn¡¯t just pressure¡ªit¡¯s gonna crush us!" Sly shouted. "If you keep hitting him, we¡¯re gonna end up flattened into the damn ground!"


    Sly tried to move, but his legs wouldn¡¯t budge, the earth swallowing him up. His breath hitched. The weight wasn¡¯t just holding them down¡ªit was squeezing the life out of them.


    "Please stop!¡±


    Bob exhaled through his nose, his fingers tightening around the handle of his weapon. He was frustrated, but he wasn¡¯t stupid.


    For now, he held back.


    The Crimson Count tilted his head, amusement flickering in his glowing gaze.


    Their hesitation fed him. Their fear made him smile.


    Slowly, he stepped forward, the blood beneath his feet crawling toward him, sinking into his form¡ªfeeding his power.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± he mused. ¡°Come now, surely you can do better. Hi hi hi.¡±


    Then, he moved.


    Faster than a breath, he was on Selene.


    Her daggers barely lifted before his clawed hand struck.


    ¡°Too slow. Hi hi hi.¡±


    The impact sent her flying. She crashed through debris, rolling to a stop. Alive, but out of the fight.


    Bob moved.


    He charged toward the Crimson Count, fog-club raised, ready to smash him into the ground.


    The Count didn¡¯t dodge.


    He welcomed it.


    Bob stopped mid-swing. He knew his attacks were only making things worse, but the hesitation cost him.


    The Crimson Count¡¯s grin widened.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, giant?¡± His voice dripped with mockery. ¡°Afraid? Hi hi hi.¡±


    The Count struck.


    The force of the blow launched him like a cannonball, his massive frame tearing through the battlefield in a blur.


    He smashed through one building¡ªthen another. Stone crumbled, debris exploded outward as he crashed through layers of ruins, his body finally slamming into a half-buried structure.


    The rubble collapsed over him, burying him beneath tons of broken stone and steel.


    The battlefield fell quiet.


    Only two fighters had yet to move.


    The Hayashi Twins.


    The Crimson Count turned toward them, his next targets clear. He planned to take them down one by one, just like the others.


    He lunged¡ªbut this time, the Hayashi twin moved.


    Ren vanished. One second he stood at the edge, the next¡ªhe was behind the Count, his sword flashing like a silver arc.


    SHHK! Steel sliced across the Count¡¯s back.


    Aya struck from the front. She didn¡¯t vanish¡ªshe was a blur, her blade piercing forward in a perfect, unstoppable line.


    THNK! The hit landed clean through his chest.


    The Crimson Count reacted¡ªbut too late.


    It was a pincer strike¡ªtimed, precise, one from the front, one from behind.


    For the first time, the Crimson Count bled.


    Marcus¡¯s eyes widened, realization hitting like a bolt of lightning. Then, a grin split his face.


    ¡°They found it!¡± His voice carried both shock and excitement. ¡°They figured him out!¡±


    Gabe, gritting his teeth against the crushing weight, forced out a breath. ¡°I guess they were studying him¡­¡±


    Sly, barely holding himself upright, clenched his fists. ¡°Studying what?¡±


    Marcus¡¯s grin widened, excitement flashing in his eyes. ¡°His weakness!¡±


    The crimson glow of Blood Eclipse dimmed when he attacked, momentarily disrupted but still burning beneath the surface.


    Every time he strikes, he stops absorbing damage.


    The Crimson Count snarled, his composure cracking as frustration took hold. He lashed out with his claws, but the Hayashi Twins had already vanished from his reach.


    They fought like executioners.


    Ren flickered behind him. A blade cut across his back.


    Aya struck from the front. Her sword pierced through his ribs.


    The Count spun, swinging wildly. "Enough!" he roared, but they were already moving again. He refused to retreat. He refused to fall. But his precision was gone, his balance wavering.


    The Twins never stopped. Never let him recover.


    More wounds. More blood.


    And then, he caught them.


    His fingers clamped around Aya¡¯s wrist before she could pull away.


    His other hand locked around Ren¡¯s throat.


    For the first time, they were still.


    Aya struggled, teeth clenched. ¡°Tch¡ªdamn it¡ª¡±


    Ren gritted his teeth, hands clawing at the Count¡¯s grip.


    The Crimson Count¡¯s crimson eyes darkened. His grip tightened. ¡°You thought this was enough to stop me? Pathetic. Hi hi hi¡­¡±


    Then, with a sudden, crushing motion, he drove Aya into the ground.


    The Count¡¯s grip tightened around Ren¡¯s throat, lifting him off the ground with ease.


    But then, he froze.


    The blood on the ground stopped moving.


    The glow around him flickered, then vanished.


    The Blood Eclipse had collapsed.


    The Count¡¯s greatest weapon had a cost.


    His power didn¡¯t come from nowhere¡ªit needed blood. Every movement, every attack, every second the Eclipse remained active, it drained the battlefield dry to sustain itself.


    And now, there was nothing left.


    The floor, once slick with blood, was dry. The only blood left was his own.


    The sky, once deep red, dulled into a sickly dark pink¡ªthe eternal hue of the fog.


    The Crimson Count stiffened. His eyes flicked downward.


    His own power had betrayed him.


    His breath came out slow, his expression unreadable. "Tch...¡±


    Aya shoved off the rubble the moment she noticed it. The weight was gone.


    Her eyes snapped to the Crimson Count, his grip still tight around Ren¡¯s throat.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate.


    Aya moved.


    Her blade sliced through his arm, forcing him to release Ren.


    The Count gritted his teeth, eyes flaring. ¡°You little¡ª¡±


    Ren landed smoothly, his Shade Glint flickering before stabilizing. His breath was sharp, but he didn¡¯t hesitate.


    The Twins struck together.


    Their blades crossed in a deadly sequence¡ªsilent, precise, final.


    Steel flashed in the moonlight.


    Their swords tore through the Count¡¯s chest, the impact jarring his body. The sound of metal slicing through flesh echoed across the battlefield.


    He stumbled, his breath ragged, lips twitching into a bloody smirk.


    "Tch... Not bad."


    A low, broken chuckle escaped him¡ª "Hi... hi..."¡ª ¡°Heukkk¡ª¡±


    Blood dripped from his lips as his body finally gave out.


    The Count¡¯s crimson eyes dimmed.


    And he collapsed.

 Chapter 17: No Safe Haven

    The battlefield had gone silent.


    Bob finally pulled himself free from the rubble, debris sliding off his shoulders as he rose. A deep claw mark stretched across his chest, already healing.


    In the brief time he¡¯d been out of the fight, the Hayashi Twins had finished the boss.


    With their master gone, the remaining minions lost all coordination. Leaderless, they were quickly cleaned up by the remaining forces.


    The battle was over.


    But victory did not bring relief.


    The survivors gathered near the ruins, their bodies worn, their weapons heavy in their hands. No one spoke at first. The aftermath of the battle hung over them like a fog just as thick as the one surrounding them.


    Marcus shook blood from his armored hide, his movements slow and methodical. The Hounds stood behind him, bruised but unbroken, their formation intact, their losses¡ªzero.


    Noah and the Okada Family had not been as lucky. They had lost two. Their bodies lay among the fallen, their comrades standing in silent mourning, expressions unreadable but eyes heavy with grief.


    Bob¡¯s crew had taken their share of injuries. Small cuts, bruises, aching muscles¡ªthey had spent too much time covering for the DMW Gang, shielding reckless fighters who ignored every warning. Sly sat on a broken piece of stone, rubbing his leg, trying to hide the slight limp in his step.


    And then there was what remained of the DMW Gang.


    Fourteen of them were gone.


    The once-loud, boastful group now stood silent, their numbers cut nearly in half. Their usual grins were gone, their confidence shattered. They had believed numbers made them strong. The battlefield had proven otherwise.


    Boss Roz, in his Fenrir Glint, sat apart from the others¡ªhis massive frame hunched low, forelegs planted firmly in the dirt. His usual bravado was gone. There was no grin this time.


    Marcus stepped toward him, voice steady. ¡°You lost fourteen.¡±


    Roz didn¡¯t look up.


    ¡°You knew the risks,¡± Marcus went on. ¡°But you still sent them in¡ªno formation, no fallback.¡±


    Roz let out a low, bitter chuckle. ¡°You think you¡¯re better than me?¡± He exhaled through his nose, head shaking. ¡°You think this is on me?¡±


    Marcus didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°I didn¡¯t say that.¡±


    He paused.


    "You didn¡¯t have to," Roz muttered. He finally met Marcus¡¯s gaze, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "You and your government types always act like you¡¯ve got it all figured out. Like you¡¯re above all this."


    Selene stepped forward, her expression cold. "We didn¡¯t get anyone killed by being reckless."


    Roz¡¯s fingers curled into fists. "Oh, so now you''re acting like you saved us? We lost because the government sent a smaller force than we did. You had trained killers, and we had a bunch of guys who weren¡¯t prepared for what they walked into. We were set up to fail."


    Selene let out a short, sharp laugh. "You set yourselves up to fail."


    Roz tensed, his face twisting with something unreadable. His remaining men shifted uncomfortably, some lowering their gazes.


    Bob, who had been watching from the sidelines, finally let out a bored sigh. "Still talking?"


    Roz turned toward him. "What was that?"


    Bob rolled his shoulder, testing a bruise on his arm. "You lost half your guys, and you still got time to point fingers? Just take the hit and move on."


    Roz looked like he wanted to fight, but for the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say.


    Noah exhaled, his shoulders tense. "Enough. This argument isn''t going to change anything."


    Marcus nodded. "We need to move. The battle¡¯s over¡ªbut the Pink Fog hasn¡¯t gone anywhere."


    The remaining fighters gathered their wounded, their weapons, their dead. The weight of the battle settled over them, pressing down like an unseen force.


    Sly winced as he stood, stretching his leg. ¡°I hate to say it, but I think the Hounds were right. That was a mess.¡±


    Gabe crossed his arms, nodding. ¡°Charging in blind almost got us crushed. We need a better plan next time.¡±


    Bob cracked his neck, eyes still on the ruins where the Crimson Count had fallen. ¡°Nah. Next time, I just won¡¯t hold back.¡±


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    Sly groaned. ¡°You¡¯re actually impossible.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Hey, it worked... eventually.¡±


    Gabe said nothing¡ªjust looked ahead, and under his breath, almost to himself:¡°One day, ¡®eventually¡¯ won¡¯t be good enough.¡±


    As the group prepared to leave, Gabe stood at the edge of the battlefield, looking out into the Pink Fog stretching beyond them.


    The others were caught up in blaming each other¡ªMarcus holding Roz accountable, Roz throwing it back at the government, Bob ignoring the lesson entirely.


    But Gabe? He saw it differently.


    The real enemy was the fog itself.


    It had taken everything from them. It corrupted the land, warped the people, and left once-thriving cities in ruins. It didn¡¯t matter who fought better or who lost more¡ªas long as the Pink Fog remained, no one was winning anything.


    But he didn¡¯t say it out loud.


    Instead, he simply turned and walked with the others, leaving the battlefield behind.


    The war was over.


    But the fight was far from finished.


    The journey back to Oyster Bay was quiet.


    The five groups moved through the ruins, their steps steady but their minds elsewhere. The weight of the battle clung to them, the echoes of the fight still fresh in their bodies. Even the DMW Gang, normally loud and boastful, walked in silence.


    No one spoke of the losses.


    No one spoke at all.


    The path ahead was swallowed by the Pink Fog, shifting lazily in the wind. But something about it had changed.


    Before, it had simply been a presence¡ªa heavy, lingering force that marked the edges of what was left of the world.


    Now, after seeing what kind of monsters moved through it¡ªwhat kind of power hid inside it¡­ the Pink Fog felt alive.


    It wasn¡¯t long before they reached the outer perimeter of where Oyster Bay should have been.


    They stopped.


    There was nothing left.


    The safe zone was gone¡ªobliterated, as if it had never existed. The meteor fragment, the last thing protecting it, had been shattered, leaving behind only scorched ground and drifting ash where the core once stood.


    The walls had collapsed. The streets were buried beneath debris. The buildings stood as nothing more than hollowed-out shells. No sign of life. No bodies. No survivors.


    Just silence.


    Noah stared at the ruins, his expression unreadable.


    Marcus narrowed his eyes, scanning the wreckage, his jaw tightening.¡°This isn¡¯t just destruction. This is erasure.¡±


    Selene stepped forward, nudging a half-buried slab of stone with her boot.¡°It¡¯s like they were wiped off the map.¡±


    The realization settled in slowly.


    Oyster Bay hadn¡¯t just fallen. It had been erased.


    They had no choice but to move on.


    With no safe zone to return to, they continued toward the next one, their pace steady but wary. Hours passed before the first signs of another settlement appeared¡ªwalls still intact, guards patrolling the perimeter, a functioning gate standing between them and something that at least resembled stability.


    As they neared the entrance, a lone figure stood waiting.


    Elias Crowe.


    The ex-mayor of Oyster Bay looked different from when they had last seen him. His usual calm demeanor had been stripped away, leaving only exhaustion in its place. His clothes were dusted with dirt, his face worn from days of travel. Yet, when he saw them


    approaching, his expression was unreadable, as if he had already accepted what was coming.


    Marcus stepped forward first. ¡°You made it.¡±


    Elias gave a slow nod. ¡°I ran the moment the meteor shattered. Didn¡¯t look back.¡±


    Bob, uninterested in formalities, crossed his arms. ¡°So, what happened?¡±


    Elias let out a breath. ¡°They lost their minds.¡±


    The survivors stood in silence as the ex-mayor recounted the events of that night. How the infected saw the full moon as blood-red, how the meteor fragment¡¯s glow burned into their minds, how they turned on each other first, and when that wasn¡¯t enough, they destroyed the only thing keeping them safe.


    Marcus narrowed his eyes. ¡°Before that, did you notice anything? Were they sick?¡±


    Elias hesitated, his brows furrowing in thought. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯d call it sickness, but looking back now¡­ maybe. A few days ago, some people complained of fatigue, headaches. We ignored it because aside from that, they were fine. They were even energetic at night. Then the full moon came.¡±


    Marcus exhaled. ¡°The researchers called it the Blood Plague.¡±


    The name sent a ripple through the group.


    Elias turned to him. ¡°Blood Plague?¡±


    Marcus¡¯s voice was steady, but the weight behind it was clear. ¡°Yes. The whole lair of the Crimson Count is saturated with it. Just being in the area¡ªnear or far¡ªyou can get infected. It must have started when some of Oyster Bay¡¯s people got too close to the lair. Once they were infected, it spread through contact.¡±


    He continued, his tone firm. ¡°And during the full moon, the hidden effect triggered. The same symptoms you mentioned¡ªthirst for blood, fear of light. In their minds, the meteor fragment became the enemy.¡± He exhaled, shaking his head. ¡°This was only a theory before, when researchers were trying to understand the connection between Glints, Fades, and fantasy creatures. Looks like some of it was right.¡±


    Noah rubbed the back of his neck, absorbing the information. ¡°So¡­ the Crimson Count destroyed an entire safe zone without even stepping inside it?¡±


    Selene didn¡¯t respond right away. Her expression stayed unreadable.¡°If that really was him¡­ then it¡¯s possible Boss-level Fades can take down a safe zone from the outside.¡±


    The thought hung in the air.They had always known Fades were dangerous¡ªbut not like this.This was a boundary broken.


    Sly frowned. ¡°Wait¡ªso any boss-level Fade could do the same thing?¡±


    No one had an answer.


    The realization settled in slowly, like a weight pressing down on their chests.


    Safe zones weren¡¯t safe anymore.


    They were still absorbing this when a sharp burst of static crackled through the comms device attached to Selene¡¯s belt.


    The voice that followed was urgent, clipped, and professional.


    "Alert¡ªGeneral-level Fade detected in Sector A. Coordinates inbound."


    Marcus¡¯s head snapped up. His eyes met Selene¡¯s immediately.


    Before anyone could even react, another alert came through.


    "Alert¡ªGeneral-level Fade detected in Sector C."


    Then another.


    "Alert¡ªBoss-level Fade detected in Eastern Territory."


    "Alert¡ªBoss-level Fade detected in Western Outpost."


    More voices, more locations, each one broadcasting a new disaster.


    The warnings kept coming, overlapping, the voices tense, struggling to keep up.


    Different places. Different sectors. Different regions.


    This wasn¡¯t an isolated event.


    The world was falling apart¡ªfast.It was collapsing ¡ªall at once, and there was no stopping it.


    After the alerts stopped, no one spoke.


    A heavy silence settled over the group as the last transmission crackled through the radio, each of them thinking the same thing.


    Then, breaking the tension like it never existed, Bob stretched his arms over his head and let out a long yawn.


    ¡°So¡­¡± he muttered, scratching the back of his head, ¡°what¡¯s for dinner?¡±


    Gabe closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.


    ¡°Unbelievable.¡±

 Chapter 18: The Web is Woven

    The survivors gathered in the next nearest safe zone, a functioning settlement that had been their only option after discovering the destruction of Oyster Bay safe zone. The five groups¡ªBob¡¯s crew, The Hounds, The Okada Family, the Hayashi Twins, and the DMW Gang¡ªhad arrived together, but their unity was already beginning to fracture.Bob¡¯s crew stood apart from the others. Bob wasn¡¯t the kind of guy who lingered after a fight¡ªunless there was another one waiting. Gabe was adjusting his radio, tweaking the dials. He¡¯d picked it up in a trade a few days back, exchanging a few small Pink Fragments for a sturdy military-style model. The signal was strong, the range better than most. Iris sat on a chunk of rubble nearby, arms crossed, quietly watching the streets ahead. Sly, still sore from the fight, shifted his weight while looking around.


    The Hayashi Twins were gone. No one was surprised. They had slipped away the moment they arrived, disappearing into the new settlement without a word. The DMW Gang had also left, but not quietly. They had stormed off, still cursing the government, blaming them for everything that had happened. Their anger had only deepened, and Bob figured it was only a matter of time before they made more trouble for themselves.


    ¡°Alright, listen up.¡± Marcus¡¯s voice cut through the tense silence. He stood with his arms crossed, his usual no-nonsense look in place. ¡°Oyster Bay¡¯s done. We¡¯ll be heading back to report in.¡±


    He looked around at the remaining crews. ¡°I understand you¡¯ve all got your own things to handle. Let¡¯s go our separate ways¡ªfor now.¡±


    Bob wasn¡¯t about to argue. He didn¡¯t like working with too many people. Too much talking, too many different ideas. He just wanted to get moving.


    Marcus then added, ¡°By the way¡ªGabe and I talked. He¡¯s setting up a private frequency. Secure, encrypted. Anyone who wants to stay in touch, trade intel, call for backup¡ªuse it. No commands. Just a way for us to communicate.¡±


    Gabe gave a small nod and stepped forward. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve already locked down a secure frequency¡ªencrypted, short-range, but clean. It¡¯s not for orders, just info. If anyone finds a safe path, spots a Fade pack, or hears something from the safe zones, you can drop it in. Need help? Call for it. But you don¡¯t owe anyone anything. Just a way to stay connected.¡±


    Iris raised an eyebrow. ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s like a chat group?¡±


    Gabe nodded. ¡°Pretty much. We won¡¯t be traveling together, and that¡¯s fine. But with this, we can still share routes, Fade sightings, safe zones or faction activities¡ªwhatever matters. Stay connected without stepping on each other¡¯s toes.¡±


    Marcus gave a small nod. ¡°It¡¯s smart. Better than wandering blind through the Pink Fog.¡±


    Noah exchanged a glance with his crew, then nodded. ¡°We¡¯re in. You helped us deal with Kuroda faction. That¡¯s enough for me.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Sure. Just don¡¯t count on us to drop everything if someone needs saving.¡±


    Marcus smirked faintly. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t expect anything else.¡±


    He turned to his squad. ¡°Anyway the Hounds are heading out. Time to report back.¡±


    Bob raised an eyebrow. ¡°Another boss fight?¡±


    Marcus didn¡¯t take the bait. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. We go where we¡¯re needed.¡±


    Before anyone could speak, Elias Crowe stepped forward. ¡°Then I¡¯ll go with you.¡±


    Everyone turned to look at the former mayor. He still carried himself like a leader, but the fall of Oyster Bay had stripped him of authority. His safe zone was gone. His title meant nothing now.


    Marcus narrowed his eyes. ¡°You sure about that?¡±


    Elias nodded. ¡°I have nothing left here. If the government still has a purpose, I¡¯ll find mine in it.¡±


    Marcus gave a short nod. ¡°You can come. The government will assess you once we¡¯re back¡ªsee where you fit and what you¡¯re capable of. Just don¡¯t expect special treatment.¡±


    Elias didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Understood.¡±


    That was that.


    Gabe handed out the radio frequencies, making sure everyone had access. One by one, people tested their connections, brief static bursts filling the air as voices crackled through the secured line.


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    First message: Marcus. ¡°Comms are good on our end.¡±


    Second message: Noah. ¡°Clear here too.¡±


    Bob rolled his eyes. ¡°You guys always this dramatic on a mic check?¡± He clicked his radio. ¡°We¡¯re good. Just don¡¯t clog the channel.¡±


    With that, the groups began to part ways. One by one, they disappeared into the landscape, heading toward different destinations. Some toward safety, some toward battle.


    Bob¡¯s crew stood for a moment, watching them go.


    Sly shifted his stance. ¡°So, what¡¯s our plan?¡±


    Bob stretched, then grinned. ¡°We walk our own path. Like always.¡±


    Bob¡¯s crew also didn¡¯t linger. Decisions were made, goodbyes said. They moved on, crossing into the fog without a word.


    By the time the others had fully dispersed, Bob¡¯s focus was already ahead. They¡¯d put distance between themselves and the last safe zone, arriving at a smaller settlement¡ªjust a stopover. Another waypoint on a road that never really ended.


    Sly let out a breath, stretching his arms. ¡°So, we¡¯re really doing this? Just us?¡±


    Bob gave him a look. ¡°What, you are having second thoughts?¡±


    Sly smirked. ¡°Hell no. Just making sure you¡¯re not.¡±


    Iris watched the buildings roll past, arms crossed. ¡°It¡¯s weird. We went through all that¡ªfought together, nearly died¡ªand now everyone¡¯s just... gone. Back to their own paths.¡±


    Gabe nodded. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s how it goes out here¡ªyou stick with the ones you trust. Hopefully, ¡®the Web¡¯ keeps the rest within reach when it counts.¡±


    Bob let out a breath, cracking his knuckles. ¡°Cool. Group hug over? We¡¯ve got the fancy radio, we are still alive, no need to drag this out like some tragic farewell episode.¡±


    Gabe shot him a look. ¡°Says the guy who keeps checking the radio like someone¡¯s gonna call just to say they miss you. I think you¡¯re more dramatic than the rest of us.¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Hey, maybe they forgot something, that¡¯s why I¡¯m checking. Could¡¯ve left a sock behind or something important. Who knows, right?¡±


    Gabe exhaled through his nose. ¡°Reasons.¡±


    With that, they moved through the safe zone, not intending to stay long. It wasn¡¯t home. Nowhere was, not really. They had a mission: get Iris to her parents. Everything else was just noise.


    As they moved, Gabe adjusted his radio, making sure it was locked on their encrypted frequency. Static crackled for a moment before clearing up. It wasn¡¯t long before the first real transmission came through.


    ¡°Anyone picking this up?¡± Marcus¡¯s voice cut through, steady and sharp.


    Gabe clicked his radio. ¡°Loud and clear.¡±


    ¡°Good. We just had a run-in with a few scavengers. They were armed but didn¡¯t attack¡ªlooked like they were keeping watch over a resource cache. Keep an eye out. Could be more of them in the area.¡±


    Bob scoffed and reached for the radio. "Or, hear me out¡­ We just go over there and take their stuff."


    Marcus started to respond, but Gabe yanked the radio back. "Absolutely not. The whole point of ¡®The Web¡¯ is not to make unnecessary enemies."


    Bob grabbed it again. "Okay, fine, whatever. But if they come after us first¡ª"


    Gabe snatched it back immediately. "Still no."


    Bob took it right back. "I wasn¡¯t done talking."


    Sly, shaking his head, grabbed the radio mid-sentence. "I swear, if you two keep treating this thing like a game of hot potato, I¡¯m throwing it in a river."


    Bob huffed but took the radio one last time, muttering, "Fine. But if they come after us first, I¡¯m taking a souvenir."


    Another voice cut in¡ªNoah. "Okada Family is making a stop at a safe zone taking in survivors before heading back home. We¡¯ve got limited supplies but we¡¯re holding strong. If anyone needs a stop, I¡¯ll send coordinates."


    Gabe nodded to himself. ¡°Good to know.¡±


    The radio stayed quiet for a few seconds before Marcus¡¯s voice returned, lower this time. ¡°If you run into Red Hands, don¡¯t engage. Just report it.¡±


    Bob rolled his eyes and lifted the radio. "Sure, I¡¯ll just wave at them and walk the¡ª"


    Gabe, moving faster than expected, snatched it right out of his hand. "No, you won¡¯t."


    Bob blinked, then looked at his empty hand. "Did you just¡ª?"


    Gabe clipped the radio to his belt. "You¡¯ve lost your talking privileges for the next five minutes."


    Marcus clearly wasn¡¯t in the mood for Bob¡¯s humor. ¡°They¡¯re hunting something, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s Fades.¡±


    That shut everyone up for a moment.


    Iris tightened her grip on the ring. ¡°Then we¡¯d better stay out of their way.¡±


    Sly glanced at Bob. ¡°You got a plan?¡±


    Bob grinned. ¡°Same as always. Move forward, deal with whatever¡¯s in the way.¡±


    Sly chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s not a plan.¡±


    Bob started walking. ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s working so far.¡±


    With that, the crew disappeared down the road, leaving the static hum of the radio behind them. ¡®The Web¡¯ was woven, but their journey was just beginning.


    As they passed through the settlement, Bob noticed a few figures moving near the entrance/exit. At first, he didn¡¯t think much of it¡ªjust another group of survivors checking in. But then he caught the emblem on their uniforms. Red Hands.


    Gabe, who had been idly scanning the area, stiffened. "We¡¯ve got a problem."


    The Red Hands were talking to the local guards, showing a sketch of a towering figure¡ªbroad shoulders, massive frame. A crude but unmistakable image of Bob.


    "They¡¯re looking for a big guy. A Goliath," Iris muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.


    Bob grinned. "Well, I do stand out."


    Sly wasn¡¯t smiling. ¡°Yeah¡ªand they¡¯re not looking to admire your height. We need to move before they find us.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long to figure it out. The so-called safe zone Bob wrecked when they saved Sly had Red Hands markings all over it. At the time, they thought it was just another hostile camp¡ªbut now they knew better. It was part of a larger network. And that network was coming for them.


    Gabe clicked his radio off. "We need to move. Now. Before they realize we¡¯re already here."

 Chapter 19: No Safe Paths

    The Red Hands were on the move, searching with intent. After the attack on their safe zone, Bob and his crew became high-priority targets. Names were circulating. Descriptions passed around.


    And the ones showing up? Just a few members from a much larger network.


    Darius "Ironjaw," one of the underbosses of the Red Hands, led the operation himself. His massive frame moved through the ruined streets like a walking fortress, his heavy footfalls cracking stone beneath him.


    Felix "Viper," his right-hand enforcer and Fog Repeller operator, slinked through the shadows beside him, barely making a sound.


    Tobias "Gravedigger," the executioner known for his brutality, carried his cleavers across his shoulders, grinning as if he could already smell blood.


    At the front, desperate for redemption, Ethan "Bullhorn," a disgraced former enforcer eager to reclaim his place, had ambushed Sly before and was now desperate for payback.


    ¡°We find them, we finish them,¡± Darius said, his voice like grinding stone. ¡°No mistakes.¡±


    Ethan clenched his fists. ¡°Sly is mine. I don¡¯t care about the others.¡±


    Felix chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s cute. But if you screw up again, we¡¯ll leave you where you fall.¡±


    Ethan ignored him, eyes burning with determination. He had already failed once¡ªthis time, he wouldn¡¯t run.


    A Red Hands scout ran up, panting. ¡°Boss! We¡¯ve got movement near the west sector. Might be them.¡±


    Darius cracked his knuckles. ¡°Then let¡¯s pay them a visit.¡±


    Bob¡¯s crew had stopped in a run-down settlement, a temporary safe zone for travelers. It wasn¡¯t much¡ªcrumbling walls, makeshift barricades, a handful of survivors clinging to whatever life they had left. They had been avoiding direct conflict, letting search parties pass rather than risking an unnecessary fight. The Red Hands were on the move, and picking the wrong moment to engage could turn lethal. The group wasn¡¯t planning to stay long, just enough to grab supplies and move on.


    Then they saw her.


    A girl¡ªbarely ten¡ªrunning straight toward the Pink Fog.


    ¡°What the hell is she doing?¡± Sly asked, watching as she sprinted past a group of stunned survivors.


    Bob cracked his neck. ¡°Dunno. Guess we¡¯ll find out.¡±


    Before anyone could react, Bob moved. His steps were heavy and fast, each one pounding against the ground as he closed the distance in seconds, covering the distance faster than anyone expected.


    The girl was inches away from the fog when Bob grabbed her by the collar and lifted her off the ground like she was a stray cat.


    ¡°Whoa there, kid. You forgot to check the ¡®certain doom¡¯ sign before running in.¡±


    She thrashed in his grip, kicking wildly. ¡°Let me go! I have to find my brother!¡±


    Bob blinked. ¡°Oh. Family thing. That explains the reckless charge into danger.¡±


    Gabe walked up, hands on his hips. ¡°Bob, put the kid down before you break her.¡±


    Bob carefully set her down, but she immediately tried to run past him. He blocked her with one massive arm like a brick wall.


    The girl glared up at them, her eyes fierce. ¡°He went into the fog and never came back! I have to go find him!¡±


    Iris crouched down to meet her eye level. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Mira.¡±


    Iris gave a small nod. ¡°Mira, if your brother didn¡¯t come back, then¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s still out there!¡± Mira shouted, fists clenched. ¡°He told me never to go into the fog. But he also promised he¡¯d always come back!¡±


    The crew exchanged looks. They had all seen what the Pink Fog did to people. If her brother had been out there this long¡­ the odds weren¡¯t good.


    Sly exhaled through his nose. ¡°Look, I get that you want to find your brother, but going in there alone? You won¡¯t make it five steps.¡±


    Mira¡¯s eyes burned with frustration. ¡°Then help me!¡±


    The group went silent.


    Then Bob sighed. ¡°Alright.¡±


    Everyone turned to him. ¡°Bob, really?¡± Gabe asked.


    Bob shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s got guts. Can¡¯t let her charge in alone, right?¡±


    Iris crossed her arms. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan, big guy?¡±


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    Bob grinned. ¡°We get her a front-row seat in our mobile safe zone.¡±


    The plan was simple. Keep Mira safe, move into the fog, and find any trace of her brother. The crew had done riskier things before. What they weren¡¯t expecting was company.


    While they moved through the fog, shadows shifted in the distance.


    Gabe, still in his Glint form and leading the way ahead of the mobile safe zone, narrowed his eyes at the fog. Something moved in the distance. His wings shifted as he slowed. ¡°We¡¯ve got company,¡± he said, keeping his gaze forward.


    The reply came through immediately. Laughter. Then a voice. Smooth, taunting. Felix. ¡°Going somewhere, boys?¡±


    The Red Hands emerged from the ruins, cutting off their path.


    Darius stepped forward, arms crossed. ¡°You made a mess last time. We¡¯re here to clean up.¡±


    Ethan locked eyes with Sly, fire practically burning in his gaze. ¡°I told you I¡¯d come back for you.¡±


    Sly groaned. ¡°Ugh, you again? Dude, I barely remember you.¡±


    Ethan twitched. ¡°I REMEMBER YOU.¡±


    Bob cracked his knuckles. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s make this quick.¡±


    He stepped forward, towering in his Goliath form, ready to charge.


    But then Tobias, the Gravedigger, moved first. He pulled a strange device from his belt¡ªmetallic, with a glowing core pulsing at its center. Without hesitation, he aimed it directly at Bob, still towering in his Goliath form.


    He pulled the trigger.


    A pulse of white energy burst outward, ripping through the Pink Fog. Within seconds, the mist vanished, leaving a wide zone of clear air around them.


    Bob¡¯s fists clenched. Something was off. His Goliath Glint was gone. Without the fog, his transformation had dropped instantly, and the strength he relied on had vanished with it.


    Sly swayed on his feet. ¡°Okay¡­ I don¡¯t like that.¡±


    Iris¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°The fog¡­ it¡¯s gone?¡±


    Tobias smirked. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve never seen one of these before. This, my friends, is a Fog Repeller. And guess what? We¡¯ve got one more shot.¡±


    Darius stepped forward. ¡°Without the fog, you¡¯re just flesh and bone.¡±


    Bob rolled his shoulders. ¡°Yeah? Still pretty good at breaking bones.¡±


    Felix grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s test that.¡±


    The Red Hands rushed forward.


    Bob met them head-on¡ªbut something was off. His usual overwhelming strength wasn¡¯t there. The absence of the Pink Fog made him¡­ slower.


    Felix lashed out, his body snapping forward like a coiled serpent. Bob barely stepped back in time as the Viper¡¯s bladed tail sliced through the air where his head had been.


    Gabe, still in his Griffin form, remained attached to the cart, his wings tensed and ready to move at a moment''s notice while keeping Mira protected. Iris, in her Valkyrie form, and Sly, in his Specter form, fought back, trying to hold the Red Hands off.


    Bob, now back to his normal form after losing his Goliath Glint, tried to engage, but the Fog Repeller was already pointed at them again. Gabe had no choice. "We¡¯re not winning this fight. Pull back!" he ordered.


    Sly gritted his teeth, then vanished in a flicker, reappearing on the opposite side of the fight, drawing attention away from the cart. As the Red Hands turned toward him, Iris leaped onto the cart, immediately returning to normal as she landed inside the mobile safe zone. Bob didn¡¯t hesitate, jumping in as well, gripping Mira tightly.


    At the last second, Sly used his shadow step, blinking onto the cart just before the Red Hands could catch him. With everyone aboard, Gabe, still in Griffin form, flapped his wings and pulled the mobile safe zone away, dragging them farther and farther into safety.


    Ethan shouted after them. ¡°COWARDS!¡±


    Darius didn¡¯t chase. He just watched, arms crossed. ¡°They¡¯ll be back. And when they do, we¡¯ll be ready.¡±


    Bob¡¯s crew disappeared into the ruins, the laughter of the Red Hands echoing behind them.


    Gabe¡¯s powerful wings beat against the air as he pulled the mobile safe zone cart, dragging it farther and farther from the Red Hands. The wind rushed past them, and the sound of their enemies shouting faded into the distance. Bob sat in the cart with Mira still held close, feeling her tiny fists trembling against his chest. Iris, now back to her normal form, adjusted herself, making sure Mira was unharmed. Sly lay sprawled on the floor of the cart, catching his breath after his last-second jump.


    ¡°We good?¡± Gabe called out, still in his Griffin form.


    ¡°Still breathing,¡± Sly muttered, rolling onto his side. ¡°That was too close.¡±


    Bob exhaled and loosened his grip on Mira, letting her sit up. ¡°You alright, kid?¡±


    Mira looked up, her voice small. ¡°Are we¡­ still going to look for my brother?¡±


    Iris didn¡¯t hesitate. She placed a hand on Mira¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Yes. Nothing¡¯s changed. We¡¯ll find him.¡±


    The safe zone cart came to a halt near the outskirts of the ruined district, where the Pink Fog swirled ominously ahead. Gabe finally released his grip, staying in his Griffin form, wings shifting as he steadied himself.


    Bob cracked his neck and stood up. ¡°Alright. We move carefully. We find anything that looks like a clue, we follow it.¡±


    At Bob¡¯s instruction, Iris and Sly jumped down from the cart, landing lightly on the ground. Still in human form, they stepped into the Pink Fog and waited. It would take some time before their Glint forms kicked in.


    Mira remained inside the cart, gripping its edge tightly as she scanned the ruins with hopeful eyes. ¡°Go that way,¡± she pointed, her voice filled with certainty. ¡°This place¡­ I know it. It¡¯s near our old house.¡±


    The crew exchanged glances before nodding.


    Bob ruffled Mira¡¯s hair. ¡°Then let¡¯s go find him.¡±


    ---


    The deeper they went into the fog, the quieter it became. Each step felt heavier, not just because of the thick, eerie mist, but because they all knew what they might find. Mira¡¯s brother had been missing for too long.


    Sly stepped ahead, scouting the area. ¡°Footprints, pretty recent. Someone¡¯s been walking through here.¡±


    Iris frowned. "Could be anyone." But as she looked at the thick fog swirling around them, unease settled in her chest. Fades were known for being mindless, wandering predators. Yet this one had returned to a familiar place. Why? It made no sense. They were supposed to lose all reason, all memory. And yet, this one had come back to its old home.


    ¡°No!¡± Mira insisted. She leaned forward from the cart, gripping its edge tightly. Her eyes darted across the ground before she pointed at something half-buried in the dirt. ¡°There! Stop the cart!¡±


    Gabe halted their movement, and Iris moved carefully through the fog, retrieving the object Mira had spotted. A necklace. A simple, rusted chain with a small metal tag attached. Mira¡¯s breath hitched. She turned to them, eyes wide with recognition. ¡°This is his!¡±


    Bob sighed. ¡°That¡¯s our sign. We keep moving.¡±


    They pressed forward, following what little evidence they could find¡ªscraps of torn fabric, faint trails in the dirt. The fog swirled around them, shifting unnaturally. It wasn¡¯t long before Sly held up a hand, signaling for them to stop.


    ¡°There,¡± he whispered, pointing ahead.


    A silhouette stood motionless in the fog, hunched slightly, its shape barely human. The air around it pulsed with something unnatural.


    Mira gasped. ¡°Brother¡­?¡± When he didn¡¯t respond, her voice wavered, more desperate. ¡°Dale!¡±


    Bob¡¯s grip tightened.


    Dale was still standing. But he was no longer human.


    ---


    Not far, the Red Hands found them first, emerging from the ruins near what looked like an old alleyway entrance on the far side of the street. Bob¡¯s crew had approached from the west, sticking close to the cover of the ruined buildings, while Dale stood motionless to the east, just beyond a collapsed structure that had once been a house. The thick Pink Fog curled between them, shifting unnaturally as if aware of the tension. If they got too close, Dale would attack¡ªjust like any other Stray Fade. But before they could decide on their next move, movement in the alleyway made Bob turn sharply. A voice cut through the mist.


    Felix¡¯s voice cut through the fog. ¡°Well, well. Looks like we caught up.¡±


    Bob turned sharply as figures emerged from the ruins¡ªRed Hands, armed and ready. Darius led the group, arms crossed, his expression cold and focused. Felix slithered beside him, his bladed tail dragging across a stone with a screeching grind. Behind them, Ethan snorted through his nostrils, massive fists clenched, his gaze locked on Sly with burning hatred.


    Tobias lifted the Fog Repeller, pointing it toward them. "Let¡¯s make this easy. You¡¯ve been a thorn in our side for too long. Surrender now, and maybe we won¡¯t break every bone in your body."


    Bob scowled. "Yeah, I¡¯m gonna have to pass on that."

 Chapter 20: The First Thread

    The fight erupted instantly. Bob charged forward, slamming into Felix before he could swing his tail. Iris leaped into the air, her wings forming as she launched a kick at Ethan. Sly darted into the fog, his Specter form blending with the mist, while Gabe, in his Griffin form, surged forward, his powerful wings kicking up a gust of wind as he tackled Tobias.


    The battle was fierce, but Bob''s crew had learned from their first encounter. When Tobias raised the ''Fog Repeller'' to fire, Sly struck from behind, knocking it from his grasp.


    "I''ll be taking that," Sly grinned, grabbing the device and vanishing into the mist.


    Tobias spun, snarling. "You little¡ª"


    But it was too late. Sly reappeared next to the others, tossing the Fog Repeller toward Gabe. With a swift motion, Gabe caught it in his talons, flapping his powerful wings as he lifted off the ground. Clutching the device tightly, he soared upward, putting distance between himself and the Red Hands as they realized their advantage had just slipped away.


    Darius saw the tide turning and raised a hand. "Enough! Fall back!"


    The Red Hands hesitated, but Tobias and Ethan refused to retreat. Tobias, his rage blinding him, swung his claws wildly at Bob. Bob caught his wrist mid-swing, his grip like iron. With a sharp twist, there was a sickening crack. Tobias let out a strangled gasp before Bob drove a brutal punch into his chest, sending him crashing into the rubble, unmoving.


    Ethan, panting and bloodied, locked eyes with Sly. "This isn''t over!" he snarled.


    Sly scoffed. "No, it really is." In a blink, he vanished and reappeared behind Ethan, driving his blade deep into his back. Ethan gasped, his body shuddering before he collapsed forward, the life fading from his eyes.


    Felix cursed, realizing they were outmatched. "Fall back! Now!" He and Darius disappeared into the fog, leaving behind the bodies of their fallen comrades.


    Bob exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "That went better."


    Gabe inspected the Fog Repeller, his claws carefully nudging the device as he examined it. The casing was covered in deep cracks, the entire frame barely holding together. He exhaled through his snout. "One shot left. After that, it''s toast."


    He nudged it toward Sly, who caught it mid-air with a grunt. Gabe couldn''t handle delicate gear in his current four-legged Glint form. Sly turned the device over, studying it. When he slid his hand into the chamber, something clicked¡ªand his Glint flickered for a split second.


    Inside the bullet slot was a small, white meteor fragment.


    Sly narrowed his eyes. "That''s why it works in the Pink Fog. It uses a white fragment to repel it."


    It finally made sense¡ªwhy the Red Hands were able to use the device despite the fog disabling most tech.


    Mira gripped the edge of the cart, her knuckles turning white. "Dale! Dale!" Her voice trembled, caught between fear and hope.


    The creature ahead didn''t look like her brother anymore. But Mira recognized him¡ªshe knew his transformation, even twisted by the Fade. There was no doubt in her mind.


    When he didn''t respond, her breath hitched. She called again, more desperate now. "Dale! Dale! Dale!"


    Bob turned quickly, ready to hold her back if she tried to jump out, but she didn''t move. Instead, Dale moved toward them. His steps were unsteady, twitching with the unnatural jerks of a Stray Fade. He was closing the distance, drawn toward Mira''s voice like a lost echo from his former self.


    For a moment, his expression shifted¡ªsubtle, almost human. But it might be just a reaction to the sound.


    No one moved. No one wanted to be the one to end it¡ªnot with Mira watching. The hesitation hung heavy in the air.


    But Dale was getting too close.


    Gabe made the call. His voice was sharp, decisive. ¡°Sly¡ªuse it! Now!¡±


    Sly didn''t hesitate. He tightened his grip on the Fog Repeller, braced himself, and pulled the trigger.


    A burst of white energy engulfed Dale, forcing the corruption away. His monstrous form wavered before shrinking back, until finally, Dale was human again. He staggered, his breaths ragged, confusion filling his eyes.


    Mira sobbed. "Dale! You''re back!"


    But Dale didn''t move. His hands trembled, his breathing uneven. Then, he whispered, "Mira¡­?"


    Bob knew it before anyone else. Something was wrong.


    Dale looked down at his shaking hands. He took one step forward, then stumbled. His form was human again¡ªbut only barely, and only for a moment. Whatever held him together was breaking down. His eyes went dull, and the Fade began creeping back in.


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    Dale clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. Then, before anyone could stop him, he reached for a broken piece of rebar on the ground. With one final breath, he plunged it into his own chest.


    Mira screamed as Iris quickly moved, wrapping her arms around the girl and covering her eyes before she could see the worst of it. Bob stood frozen, unable to stop it in time.


    Dale fell to his knees, then onto the ground. His body stilled. A moment later, a single white fragment rolled from his chest.


    Silence.


    Then¡ª"No¡­ Dale¡­ please, no¡­" Mira''s voice broke between sobs, her body shaking. "You said you''d come back¡­"


    She collapsed into Iris''s arms, crying uncontrollably. The crew stood motionless, the weight of the moment pressing down on them.


    Bob clenched his jaw, then reached down, picking up the white fragment. He looked at it, then at Mira.


    Bob knelt down and gently placed the white fragment into Mira''s small hands. She stared at it through teary eyes, gripping it tightly as if afraid to let go. A fresh wave of sobs wracked her body, and she buried her face deeper into Iris''s shoulder, clutching the fragment as if it were the last piece of her brother she had left.


    Nobody spoke. The white fragment resting in Mira''s hands was more than a rare artifact, it was proof that Dale had protected her, even in the end. His final gift. Something that would let her return to any safe zone safely¡ªsomething he himself had never been able to do.


    The Pink Fog swirled around them once more, heavy and indifferent.


    Later that day, they brought Mira back to the settlement where they¡¯d first found her¡ªthe same place where the survivors had taken her in after Dale disappeared. She didn¡¯t say much. Just held the fragment close as the caretakers welcomed her back with quiet relief.


    ---


    The radio crackled in Gabe''s hands as Bob''s crew sat huddled around the mobile safe zone cart. The air was tense, but focused. They were fully connected to The Web now¡ªthe encrypted communication network Gabe had set up. It wasn''t just a backup anymore. It was how they''d stay ahead, no longer wandering blind through the fog.


    "Alright, let''s see if we''re the only geniuses using this thing," Gabe muttered as he adjusted the frequency.


    Static buzzed¡ªthen a voice came through. Familiar. Marcus.


    "You''re live," he said, voice clipped but clear. "Good. Thought I''d test the line."


    Bob leaned in. "You better not be selling us an extended warranty, man."


    There was a short pause before Marcus replied dryly, "Not my department." His tone shifted slightly. "Listen. According to our latest reports, there''s increased Fade movement near Sector D-12. No solid numbers yet, but the area''s hot. You might want to reroute if you''re headed that way."


    Gabe pulled up the map on his tablet, frowning as he marked the sector. "That''s exactly where we were going. How recent is this?"


    "Within the last 12 hours," Marcus said. "Could be a migrating cluster. Or something worse."


    Bob sighed. "Great. I was really hoping to get mobbed today."


    Iris shook her head. "This just proves The Web works. We''re finally ahead of something for once."


    "Use it smart," Marcus said. "I''ll update you if anything changes."


    The line clicked off, leaving only soft static behind. For the first time, the crew wasn''t walking blind. They had real-time intel. They could plan. Move with purpose.


    Not just survive¡ªadapt.


    ---


    After following Marcus'' instructions and avoiding Sector D-12, Bob''s crew arrived at a safe zone¡ªa scattered collection of makeshift buildings fortified just enough to keep the Fades out. It wasn''t much, but it was a temporary haven for traders, scavengers, and those looking to regroup.


    A few hours later, Bob stood with his arms crossed, staring at the rusty, barely functional pickup truck parked in front of them. The seller, an old man missing three teeth and wearing a torn jacket, gave them a confused look.


    "You actually wanna buy that thing?" he asked, rubbing his chin. "Ain''t much use for cars anymore, y''know. Roads don''t go far, and most people ain''t exactly goin'' on road trips these days. And even if you do, cars don''t work in the Pink Fog. Engines fail, batteries drain, something about that mist just eats away at ''em."


    Bob grinned. "Yeah, but we''re not most people."


    The old man shrugged. "Your call. It''s yours for ten boxes of rations and a couple of Pink Fragments."


    Gabe scoffed. "You''re charging Pink Fragments for this rust bucket?"


    The seller raised a brow. "You''re the ones dumb enough to buy a car in a world where no one drives."


    Bob handed over the payment without arguing. They had bigger plans for this truck. Once the deal was done, they got to work.


    The pickup truck wasn''t just a new ride¡ªit was an upgrade born out of necessity. Their old cart, which had served as their mobile safe zone for so long, had shown its weaknesses when the Red Hands chased them down. It was slow, exposed, and too fragile for real combat situations. They needed something tougher, something that could handle real threats.


    That led to the first step: converting the newly acquired truck into the new mobile safe zone. They had large white fragments, powerful enough to generate a protective field around the vehicle. With careful placement, the entire truck became a moving shelter against the Pink Fog.


    The second step was modifying it for Gabe''s Glint his Griffin form. They built a customized harness, allowing him to strap in and lift the truck when needed¡ªperfect for bypassing collapsed roads or avoiding unnecessary trouble.


    As they finished setting up, Sly leaned against the truck, arms crossed. "Alright, I''ll say it¡ªthis is actually kinda smart."


    Bob smirked. "You doubted me?"


    "Always," Sly shot back.


    Gabe inspected the harness, testing the weight distribution. "This''ll free me up a lot. I won''t have to pull the cart all the time now."


    "Yeah, but we still gotta conserve gas," Iris reminded them. "Just because there''s fuel in the Pink Fog doesn''t mean it''ll always be available when we need it."


    Bob patted the hood. "Then we use it smart. Drive when we can, fly when we have to."


    With that, their new mobile safe zone was officially ready.


    ---


    As they prepared to move out, Bob took a moment to reflect on how much had changed¡ªand how much they had changed with it.


    His Goliath Glint had evolved. Now, instead of just forming one weapon, he could create three to four¡ªa club, gauntlets, a throwable stone or block, and a long pole. The ability to shift between them mid-fight would make him even more unpredictable. More than that, he had started learning how to revert to human form within the Pink Fog, something that hadn''t even crossed his mind before being hit by the Fog Repeller. Right now, he could only hold his human form for a second before shifting back, but it was progress.


    Gabe had reached Stage 2, unlocking the ability to manifest an aura. This meant he didn''t just transform¡ªhis sheer presence alone radiated overwhelming energy, making his enemies feel the pressure before he even attacked. His transformation was now automatic after one hour of exposure to the Pink Fog.


    Iris had also reached Stage 2, but something about her aura was different. Instead of scaring off Fades, as was typical, hers provoked them, making them more aggressive. This was likely a result of her training to channel emotions and desires into her transformation. It was progress, but also a risk. If she couldn''t control it, she could unintentionally draw in threats. Like Gabe, her transformation was now automatic after one hour of exposure to the Pink Fog.


    Sly was moving fast. Now at Stage 1.5, he was absorbing Fog power at an increasing rate. His shadow step had evolved into a deadly strike, a single, decisive attack infused with Stage 3 power. This wasn''t just movement¡ªit was a kill shot. His transformation time had shortened to two hours of Pink Fog exposure, meaning he was catching up faster than expected.


    Bob cracked his knuckles as he climbed into the truck. "Alright. Let''s see how far we can go before something tries to kill us."


    Gabe sighed. "You just had to say it, didn''t you?"


    Bob grinned. "Gotta keep things interesting."


    With that, the engine rumbled to life. They moved forward.

 Chapter 21: Doctors of the Fog

    The engine rumbled as Bob¡¯s crew drove down a ruined highway, their newly upgraded mobile safe zone rolling smoothly over cracked pavement. The safe zone field around the truck shimmered faintly, the white fragments embedded in its core keeping the Pink Fog at bay. For once, it felt like they had an advantage¡ªuntil they spotted trouble ahead.


    A blockade.


    Bob slowed the truck as the crew eyed the improvised barricade of rusted cars and scrap metal spread across the road. It wasn¡¯t natural. Someone had put it there.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a trap,¡± Sly muttered, narrowing his eyes. ¡°Classic ¡®stop your vehicle and rob you blind¡¯ setup.¡±


    Gabe, still in his Griffin form and flying above, scanned the area. ¡°No movement yet, but I don¡¯t like this.¡±


    Iris adjusted her stance, eyes locked on the scavengers. ¡°We pushing through, or dealing with this?¡±


    Bob cracked his knuckles. ¡°Let¡¯s see who¡¯s dumb enough to try this on us.¡±


    The moment the truck rolled to a stop, figures emerged from the wreckage¡ªGlint-formed scavengers, armed and waiting. Their eyes glowed faintly in the fog, focused on the vehicle like predators spotting prey. They weren¡¯t here to talk. They wanted supplies, Pink Fragments¡ªanything useful. And they were ready to take it by force.


    One of them, a wiry man with a scar across his nose and elongated, mantis-like arms, stepped forward, his voice rough but eerily clear. His movements were sharp and precise, his segmented limbs clicking unnaturally as he sized up the crew. Another scavenger, bulkier with a thick, plated hide like an armadillo, stomped forward beside him, his weight cracking the pavement beneath him. Further back, a hunched figure with elongated, owl-like talons perched atop a rusted car, its glowing eyes fixed hungrily on the truck. Their transformations were varied, each one unique to their survival instincts, making them far more unpredictable than desperate humans.


    Bob rested an elbow on the truck¡¯s window. ¡°We could, or you could clear the road and not waste our time.¡±


    The scavenger laughed. ¡°That¡¯s cute. Here¡¯s the deal¡ªyou give us your supplies, and we let you walk.¡±


    Sly sighed. ¡°Why do they all say the same thing?¡±


    Bob nodded. ¡°Like it ever works.¡±


    Without another word, the scavengers attacked, each moving in ways their Glint forms allowed. The mantis-armed scavenger lunged first, his bladed limbs slicing through the air with unnatural speed. The armadillo-like brute barreled forward, his plated body acting as a battering ram. The owl-like Glint took to the sky, circling for an opening.


    The first one barely got a step closer before Bob launched himself from the truck, summoning a Fog Gauntlet mid-air and punching the man square in the chest. The impact sent him flying back into a pile of rusted scrap.


    Sly vanished in a blur, reappearing behind two scavengers, his Quick Step Strike cutting through one instantly. The other turned in shock, only to catch a kick to the gut that sent him tumbling.


    Gabe dove from above, his Griffin form clashing mid-air with the owl-like Glint, talons locking as they spiraled toward the ground in a flurry of wings and dust.


    Iris leaped out, but the moment her feet hit the ground, something felt off. The remaining scavengers, instead of reacting defensively, twisted their heads toward her, their movements shifting from combat-focused to something more aggressive, almost instinctual. Their eyes glowed unnaturally as if drawn to her presence, their erratic attacks becoming frantic and reckless.


    She barely had time to react before they charged at her.


    ¡°Uh, guys?¡± she called out as she dodged a wild swing. ¡°They¡¯re ignoring you and coming straight for me.¡±


    Bob punched another scavenger into the dirt before glancing over. ¡°What?¡±


    Then he saw it¡ªthe way the scavengers¡¯ eyes seemed drawn to Iris, their movements becoming more erratic, more reckless.


    Her aura was pulling them in.


    Iris gritted her teeth as another scavenger lunged at her, forcing her to knock him back with a hard kick. ¡°This is new.¡±


    Gabe landed beside her, his massive wings kicking up dust. ¡°It¡¯s your aura,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s doing something to them.¡±


    Iris clenched her fists. She had been trying to channel emotions and desires into her transformation, but this? This was bad. She wasn¡¯t scaring them. She was provoking them.


    Sly zipped beside her, knocking out a scavenger who got too close. ¡°Not the best time for a breakthrough, Iris.¡±


    ¡°I know that!¡± she snapped, barely dodging another attack.


    Bob, recognizing the danger, charged forward, slamming the last few scavengers out of the way.


    ¡°Back in the truck!¡± he ordered.


    They didn¡¯t argue. Within seconds, they were back in the vehicle.


    Gabe, still in Griffin form, hooked himself to the harness and lifted the truck into the air, clearing the barricade effortlessly. Below, the remaining scavengers scrambled, watching their escape with frustration.


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    Inside the truck, Iris pressed her hands to her temples, trying to calm the lingering energy from her transformation.


    Bob glanced at her. ¡°You okay?¡±


    She exhaled. ¡°Yeah. Just need to figure out how to control my Glint.¡±


    Gabe, flying above them, sighed. ¡°Preferably before we get rushed again.¡±


    The crew fell into silence as they continued on, processing what had just happened. They weren¡¯t just fighting external threats anymore¡ªsome of their own powers were becoming unpredictable.


    ---


    Hours later, they reached another settlement, a fortified outpost built into the skeletal remains of an old truck stop. It looked safe enough, but the moment they arrived, they could feel the tension in the air.


    The locals were nervous. Something was wrong.


    Bob pulled the truck to a stop, and almost immediately, a trader approached them. He was sweating despite the cool air, his eyes darting around. ¡°If you¡¯re looking to rest, don¡¯t stay long.¡±


    Gabe narrowed his eyes. ¡°Something going on?¡±


    The trader wiped his forehead. ¡°Red Hands. They¡¯ve been seen near here. They usually stay in their territory, but lately¡­ they¡¯ve been moving. Different tactics. Smarter.¡±


    Bob¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®smarter¡¯?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re setting up traps. Luring people in. Attacking supply routes. Before, they were just another gang with muscle, but now? Now they¡¯re thinking ahead.¡± The trader swallowed hard. ¡°Some say they¡¯ve got something new, something that lets them fight in the fog like nothing else.¡±


    The crew exchanged glances. They had already encountered the Fog Repeller once. If the Red Hands were adapting even further¡­ this was bad.


    Sly exhaled. ¡°Great. So they¡¯re evolving.¡±


    Bob crossed his arms, his expression dark. ¡°Then we evolve faster.¡±


    The weight of the warning settled over them as they prepared to move again. The Red Hands weren¡¯t just a problem of the past. They were changing, adapting, and coming back stronger.


    And the next fight wouldn¡¯t be like the last.


    The old man shook his head, his expression grim. "The Red Hands aren¡¯t like your usual bandits. They¡¯re bad news, and picking a fight with them doesn¡¯t end well for anyone. If you¡¯re smart, you¡¯ll steer clear."


    Bob was about to press him for more details when a younger man rushed over, panting. His face was pale with urgency. ¡°Elder, we got a problem.¡±


    The old man turned sharply. ¡°What now?¡±


    The younger man hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the outskirts of the settlement. ¡°Scouting team hasn¡¯t come back. They should¡¯ve been here hours ago.¡±


    The old man muttered a curse under his breath, rubbing his temples. ¡°Damn fools. They knew the risk.¡±


    Bob glanced at the younger man. ¡°They stuck in the Fog?¡±


    The younger man nodded. ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to be out there long, but something must¡¯ve gone wrong.¡±


    That got Bob¡¯s attention.


    Iris exchanged glances with Sly. ¡°If their people are out here looking for them¡­ maybe they¡¯re getting close to their timer.¡±


    Gabe exhaled. ¡°And no one here is going after them?¡±


    The younger man hesitated, then shook his head. "We don¡¯t know exactly where they are, and even if we wanted to find them, we don¡¯t have enough time. We have to wait until our Glint forms kick in before we can go in safely, but by then, it¡¯ll be too late. They¡¯ll be beyond saving, either dead or fully turned into Fades."


    Bob didn¡¯t even need to think about it. ¡°We¡¯ll do it.¡±


    The younger man looked surprised. The old man frowned. ¡°You sure? No telling what¡¯s out there.¡±


    Bob cracked his knuckles. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll find out.¡±


    ---


    The Pink Fog swallowed them whole as Bob¡¯s crew pushed forward, following the rough directions they had been given. Bob drove the truck slowly, navigating the uneven terrain while the others followed on foot, keeping their senses sharp. They didn¡¯t know exactly where the scouting team was, and searching the Fog was never easy. The distorted air made distances difficult to judge, and sounds seemed to come from everywhere at once.


    Time passed¡ªover an hour of scanning the mist for signs of life. By then, Gabe and Iris had reached their Glint transformation threshold, their bodies beginning to feel the familiar pull of the shift. Sly still had more time before his timer triggered, but he remained alert, knowing his window was closing too.


    ¡°There,¡± Gabe called from above, his Griffin form gliding low. ¡°I see them.¡±


    Bob squinted through the haze. A small group of survivors huddled near a collapsed bus, barely holding themselves together. They had already transformed into their Glint forms, their bodies twisted but still sane. Two of them were in critical condition¡ªa man with thick, armored plating across his back had been impaled by a metal pole, the jagged end still protruding from his torso, pinning him to the wreckage. Another had a completely shattered leg, his lower limb twisted unnaturally, his reptilian-like Glint features twitching as he fought the pain. Unlike Bob and his crew, these two hadn¡¯t reached Stage 1 in Fog power yet, meaning they couldn¡¯t heal on their own. Without immediate medical attention, their chances of survival were slim. The rest had minor wounds, but they refused to leave, their expressions grim.


    Bob could see why. These two injured were their strongest fighters. If the others left them behind and tried to escape alone, it would be suicide¡ªa near-certain death sentence in the Fog without their protection.


    Their time was running out¡ªif they remained in the Fog much longer, their transformations would become permanent, turning them into Fades.


    ¡°Move fast,¡± Bob ordered.


    Iris and Sly reached the survivors first. One of them, a man with jagged, crystalline growths along his arms, looked up with wild, desperate eyes. ¡°You¡ªYou came for us?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t leave people to rot,¡± Iris said. ¡°Can you move?¡±


    The man nodded weakly, but the others weren¡¯t as responsive. A woman with partially scaled skin was barely conscious, slumped against the wall. Another trembled violently near the bus, their Glint form unstable, sweating, shaking, and clearly close to their limit.


    ¡°They¡¯re too weak to walk,¡± Sly muttered. ¡°We need to carry them.¡±


    Bob crouched, preparing to lift one of them, when something shifted in the Fog. A presence¡ªnot a Fade, not a scavenger, but something different.


    Then they appeared.


    The Medics.


    Dr. Callahan ¡°Cal¡± Voss and his team stepped out from the mist like phantoms, their movements controlled, precise. Unlike other survivors who treated the Fog like a death sentence, they moved as if they belonged in it.


    Bob instinctively stepped in front of the wounded, but Dr. Cal didn¡¯t even glance at him. His focus was on the injured.


    ¡°They¡¯re at the threshold,¡± Dr. Cal said to his team. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    Harlan Kade, the Harpy-Glint assistant surgeon, was already moving. His sharp eyes scanned the wounds, and with inhuman speed, he began cutting away at infected tissue, quickly prepping for deeper surgery.


    Lynn Aster, the Sphinx-Glint Diagnoser, knelt beside the impaled man, her golden eyes glowing faintly. ¡°Major internal damage. If we don¡¯t remove the pole carefully, he¡¯ll bleed out in seconds.¡±


    Victor ¡°Vik¡± Reiss, the Gorgon-Glint anesthesiologist, moved in. ¡°I¡¯ll keep him from feeling a thing.¡± He let a few drops of venom drip onto his clawed fingertips and pressed them against the man¡¯s neck. Almost instantly, the pain in his expression faded, his body going still but stable.


    Avery ¡°Aves¡± Salis, the Dryad-Glint monitoring expert, placed her hands lightly on the one with the broken leg. ¡°His body is in shock, vitals are dropping. If we don¡¯t set the bone now, he won¡¯t make it far.¡±


    Dr. Cal¡¯s tentacle-like appendages, a result of his Cecaelia Glint, a mutation granting him the traits of an aquatic hybrid, part-human, part-octopus, moved with mechanical efficiency, gripping the jagged pole protruding from the man¡¯s torso. ¡°On my count,¡± he instructed. ¡°Three¡­ two¡­ one.¡± With a swift motion, he extracted the metal in one smooth pull, while Harlan immediately sealed the wound with rapid stitches.


    Bob and his crew watched in silence. It was a well-oiled machine¡ªa team that had done this so many times, they didn¡¯t need to talk. They knew their roles. They knew exactly how long they had.


    It was unsettling and impressive all at once.


    Iris took a step forward. ¡°You¡­ work inside the Fog?¡±


    Dr. Cal finally glanced at her. ¡°Someone has to.¡±


    The Medics continued their work, ignoring Bob¡¯s crew completely as if they weren¡¯t even there. Within minutes, the worst injuries were treated, and the survivors were stabilized.


    Bob crossed his arms. ¡°You¡¯re good.¡±


    Dr. Cal didn¡¯t look up. ¡°We know.¡±


    Before they could leave, one of the settlement¡¯s traders hurried forward. "Wait! You saved our people¡ªplease, come back with us to the safe zone. We¡¯ll offer you shelter, food, anything we can spare."


    Dr. Cal met his gaze. ¡°We don¡¯t take payment.¡±


    Bob frowned. ¡°Then why do it?¡±


    Cal¡¯s expression was unreadable. ¡°Because we choose to.¡±


    Gabe narrowed his eyes. ¡°You work in the Fog like it¡¯s just another day. How?¡±


    Dr. Cal¡¯s gaze flickered to him. ¡°The Fog isn¡¯t the problem. It¡¯s the people who try to control it that you should be worried about.¡±


    Bob opened his mouth to press further, but the Medics were already moving, vanishing back into the mist as quickly as they had appeared.

 Chapter 22: Crimson Pursuit

    Bob and his crew moved cautiously through the Pink Fog, their steps muffled by the heavy air. They had just returned the members of the safe zone to the old man¡¯s settlement, choosing to heed his advice and avoid direct confrontation with the Red Hands. Instead of facing a battle they weren¡¯t prepared for, they had slipped away into the mist, following the less-traveled roads deeper into the ruins.


    The fog thickened as they advanced, twisting the landscape into eerie, shifting shapes. It was here, in the heart of the abandoned city, that they encountered the Archivists. Six figures emerged from the dense mist, their Glint forms shimmering with an unnatural glow. Their presence was neither hostile nor fearful. Two of them stood with controlled precision, while the remaining four lingered in the background, more like assistants than fighters.


    Bob tensed, fists already tightening as he prepared for a fight, but the lead Archivist stepped forward, raising a hand in a gesture of non-aggression. There was something eerily knowing in their eyes, something that said they had been expecting this meeting.


    "You must be Bob¡¯s crew," the figure said, their voice steady but firm. "The traveling medics spoke of you. They told us that you are strong."


    Bob blinked, then grinned. "Strong, huh? Did they say how strong? Like, ¡®punch-through-a-wall¡¯ strong or ¡®rip-a-tree-out-of-the-ground¡¯ strong? I need details here."


    Sly sighed, rubbing his temples. "Bob, I swear, not everything is about your muscle flexing."


    The Archivist paused, as if deciding whether to engage in this nonsense or ignore it entirely. Eventually, they responded. "They said you were reckless but effective. That you help people."


    Bob nodded, pleased. "Ah, see? That¡¯s what I like to hear."


    "They also said you are difficult to work with."


    Sly burst out laughing. "Now we¡¯re talking."


    Bob placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "I am a delight to work with."


    The second Archivist, a no-nonsense woman, stepped forward. ¡°What we need is assistance. The Voynich Manuscript ended up in this ruined city, it traveled the world for research before the meteor impact. Now it¡¯s stranded, and if we don¡¯t act, it¡¯ll be lost forever. We intend to preserve it.¡±


    Sly scoffed. "You¡¯re risking your lives for an old book?"


    "Knowledge is just as valuable as survival," the Archivist replied. "This manuscript is part of our history. And history should not be left to rot in the fog."


    Gabe tapped his chin. ¡°And let me guess¡ªthe place where the manuscript¡¯s stuck is swarming with Fades?¡±


    "Worse," the Archivist said grimly. "Three Callers have claimed this ground. And they''re about to tear each other apart."


    Bob cracked his knuckles. "Three? Sounds like a lot."


    "We aren¡¯t asking you to fight them," the second lead Archivist, the intense woman, clarified. "We only need the manuscript. If there''s a way to retrieve it without engaging the Callers, that would be ideal. But if there isn''t, then we need just enough time to secure it and leave before things escalate."


    Bob frowned. "So we are bait."


    The Archivist sighed. "We¡¯re asking for assistance, not throwing you to the wolves. You are the strongest fighters here. If those Callers evolve into a Boss, no one¡ªnot us, not you¡ªwill be walking away."


    Normally, a Caller built power slowly, ¡®calling¡¯ and controlling more Fades until their reach stabilized into a territory. But if one Caller defeated another, they absorbed control of that caller¡¯s Fades. Two fights, sometimes even one, was all it took. The transformation was brutal, fast, and irreversible.And once a Boss was born, everything changed. Territory, power, numbers. All of it escalated.


    Bob exchanged glances with his crew. He could already tell what they were thinking. The job was insane. But then again, so was everything they did. Bob exhaled.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°You focus on the book¡ªwe¡¯ll keep the heat off you as best we can. But we¡¯re not fighting all three Callers head-on. Don¡¯t expect a rescue if things go sideways.¡±


    The Archivist gave a curt nod. "We don¡¯t need babysitting. Just time."


    ---


    The Pink Fog churned like a living thing as the distant sounds of monstrous roars filled the air. The Archivists had spent days observing the movements of the three Callers, carefully studying their patterns and calculating their inevitable confrontation. Their clash was bound to happen, a territorial battle that had been escalating over time.


    The Cyclops Caller, a massive brute with a single glowing eye and thick armor-like skin, had established itself at the center of the ruins, a dominant force awaiting challengers.


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    The Swarm Caller, a twisted, skeletal wendigo-like entity, moved with eerie speed, summoning waves of lesser Fades as it prowled the battlefield, looking for an opportunity to strike.


    The Wraith Caller, a shadowy figure that flickered in and out of existence, remained on the outskirts, its deadly precision making it a formidable predator. The tension between them had reached its peak, and now, at last, they would fight for complete control of the territory.


    Gabe¡¯s sharp eyes caught movement in the fog. ¡°The Wendigo¡¯s moving in on the Wraith.¡±


    He didn¡¯t take his eyes off the unfolding clash as he spoke. ¡°Remember the plan¡ªwe wait for them to fight. While they¡¯re busy tearing each other apart, we hit the Cyclops Caller. That way, we only deal with one, and whoever wins their fight comes out weaker.¡±


    Sure enough, the Swarm Caller lunged first, unleashing a horde of Fades to drown the Wraith Caller. The Wraith reacted instantly, phasing through the first wave of attackers before slashing back with razor-sharp claws.


    Bob grinned. "That¡¯s our cue. The big guy¡¯s still waiting for his turn. Let¡¯s not give him one."


    The Cyclops Caller turned its massive, single eye toward Bob¡¯s crew as they approached, its earth-shaking footsteps sending cracks through the ruined ground. Around it, twisted Fades lurked in the fog, their glowing eyes locked onto Bob¡¯s crew. The Cyclops let out a guttural roar, and in response, its minions charged forward.


    Bob dodged the first Fade¡¯s swipe, shifting mid-step as he summoned his Fog Gauntlets. He slammed a punch into the creature¡¯s skull, sending it flying back. "Alright, big guy. Let¡¯s dance."


    Iris took to the air, her wings flaring as she dived toward the Cyclops Caller¡¯s eye. The beast swiped at her, but she twisted mid-air, avoiding the strike. ¡°The big one¡¯s slow¡ªbut it hits like a truck!¡±


    Gabe, in his Griffin form, soared beside her. ¡°Then we stay out of reach!¡±


    Sly vanished in a flicker of movement, reappearing behind two of the smaller Fades. He drove his dagger through one¡¯s throat and slashed the other across the leg before blinking away again. ¡°The grunts are fast. Watch your backs!¡±


    Bob charged forward, switching from his gauntlets to his Fog Club, bringing it down onto the Caller¡¯s massive leg. The impact sent a ripple through its armored skin, but it barely staggered. The Fades swarmed him, forcing him to pivot. With a flicker, his weapon shifted to a long Fog Pole, which he swung in a wide arc, knocking the creatures away.


    The Cyclops roared, its single eye glowing ominously. A pulse of energy rippled through the battlefield, causing the grunt fades to surge forward in renewed aggression. Bob barely had time to react before one grabbed his arm, fingers like iron clamps. Gritting his teeth, he twisted and used the momentum to slam it into another before shifting his weapon again¡ªthis time summoning his Fog Gauntlets.


    Iris swooped down, cutting through two Fades with her blade. "Bob, don¡¯t just stand there getting swarmed!"


    "I¡¯m working on it!" Bob growled, driving his fist through another Fade¡¯s chest before turning back to the Caller.


    Sly darted through the battlefield, cutting down grunts Fades with precise strikes, but a heavy swipe caught his side. He winced but kept moving. ¡°We need to bring the big guy down! These things aren¡¯t stopping.¡±


    Bob planted his feet, eyes locking onto the Cyclops Caller. "Fine. Let¡¯s go big."


    With a booming stomp, he launched forward, summoning a massive Fog Club mid-air. He brought it down onto the Caller¡¯s head, sending cracks through its armored skull. The beast reeled, but instead of collapsing, it retaliated with a devastating backhand. The strike caught Bob square in the chest, sending him skidding across the battlefield.


    Iris gasped. "Bob!!"


    Bob groaned, coughing as he pushed himself up. "Yeah¡­ that one hurt."


    Gabe and Iris unleashed a coordinated aerial strike, forcing the Caller to stumble. Sly blurred between its legs, slicing at its tendons. Bob wiped the blood from his mouth and grinned. "Alright. Then we just hit it harder."


    The Cyclops Caller reeled, its massive form teetering under the relentless barrage. Cracks splintered across its thick, armor-like skin, its glowing eye flickering in erratic bursts. With a furious roar, it swung its colossal arm in a final, desperate attempt to crush Bob, but he was already moving.


    Summoning his Fog Club mid-stride, Bob twisted his body and launched himself into the air, the sheer force of his jump cracking the rubble beneath him. The Cyclops let out a confused, guttural snarl as Bob brought the club down with a bone-shattering impact, striking directly into the glowing center of its eye.


    The beast let out an agonized, earth-shaking bellow, its body convulsing violently as the energy within it ruptured. Its eye burst apart in a blinding explosion of Fog energy, the force ripping through its massive frame. The ground trembled as the Cyclops collapsed like a falling monolith, its enormous body crashing into the ruins with enough force to send debris flying in every direction.


    The remaining grunt Fades, sensing the loss of their Caller, broke formation and scattered into the fog¡­ disorganized, panicked, and no longer bound by a command.


    Bob landed in a crouch, breathing hard, his club dissipating into mist. He straightened up, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, that was fun."


    Sly, clutching a gash on his arm, shot him a glare. "Yeah, a blast. Especially the part where we almost got crushed."


    Before they could recover, an ear-piercing shriek cut through the fog. The Wendigo Horror stood atop the ruins, its skeletal frame trembling with excitement. It had defeated the Wraith Caller, and now its hollow, glowing eyes locked onto them. The victory had cost it¡ªdeep wounds marred its elongated limbs, and a section of its torso had been ripped apart during the fight. But despite its injuries, it let out a spine-chilling howl and leaped forward, its horde of remaining Fades swarming in behind it.


    Bob clenched his fists. "Guess we¡¯re not done yet."


    The Wendigo moved with unnatural speed, its twisted body slithering through the fog as it lunged at them. Gabe barely had time to react before it was upon him, its clawed fingers slashing through the air. He twisted mid-flight, avoiding the brunt of the strike, but the impact sent him spiraling. Sly flickered in and out of the mist, cutting down Fades as they surged forward, while Iris tried to keep the creatures at bay with her aerial strikes.


    Bob swapped his club for his Fog Gauntlets, meeting the Wendigo head-on. Their clash was brutal, its skeletal frame deceptively strong, each impact rattling through Bob¡¯s arms. He managed to land a solid punch, sending it skidding across the rubble, but it twisted unnaturally and righted itself mid-motion, its hunger for blood unshaken.


    "It¡¯s fast," Iris warned, slicing through a Fade. "We need to pin it down!"


    Sly appeared beside Bob, panting. "Easier said than done. It¡¯s barely feeling its injuries."


    Bob gritted his teeth. "Then we just hit it harder."


    The battle raged on, exhaustion creeping in as they struggled to keep up. The Wendigo, already battered and drained from its fight with the Wraith, lashed out in a final frenzy. But Bob¡¯s crew fought smart, targeting its weak points, staying mobile, and wearing it down further. A coordinated attack forced it onto its back, and with a final, thunderous strike from Bob¡¯s Fog Club, its skull caved in. The creature twitched, then went still, the remaining Fades scattering into the fog.


    Bob barely had time to catch his breath before Gabe shouted, "We¡¯ve got company!"


    From the ruins, figures emerged, Darius "Ironjaw" and Felix "Viper", leading twelve elite Red Hands members, all in Glint form. The air tensed as they closed in, their red insignias gleaming even through the dense mist.


    Darius¡¯s massive form loomed over the battlefield, his armored Juggernaut-Class Siege Beast Glint exuding raw power. His body was like a living fortress, his thick, plated skin resembling unbreakable stone, each movement sending tremors through the ground. "That was entertaining," he said, his voice like grinding stone. "But you¡¯ve done enough. Now it¡¯s our turn."


    Felix smirked, his Serpent-Class Naga Assassin Glint slithering through the mist, his elongated, coiling body tensed like a predator preparing to strike. His claws gleamed, venom dripping from their edges as his forked tongue flicked out. "You look tired, Bob. This¡¯ll be over quick."


    Bob tightened his grip on the club. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m tired. Doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m done.¡±

 Chapter 23: Ashes in the Fog

    The fight erupted instantly. The Red Hands came at them with overwhelming force, taking advantage of their exhaustion. Gabe struggled to stay airborne, forced to dodge Felix¡¯s lightning-fast strikes. Sly blinked through the battlefield, narrowly avoiding fatal blows, while Iris fought to keep them from being surrounded.


    Bob clashed with Darius, the force of their blows sending shockwaves through the ruins. Darius was relentless, his strength amplified by his Implant, making each strike feel like colliding with a battering ram. Bob¡¯s body ached, but he refused to fall.


    Meanwhile, the Archivists had not stopped moving. Under the cover of battle, they worked quickly, securing the Voynich Manuscript from the ruins. The second they had it, they made their retreat, slipping away unnoticed in the chaos.


    Iris, catching sight of them, gritted her teeth. "They¡¯re leaving."


    Sly parried an attack, ducking beneath a Red Hands officer¡¯s strike before slamming his blade into the enemy¡¯s side. The Red Hands weren¡¯t just standing around¡ªthey were pushing hard, forcing Bob¡¯s crew to divide their focus.


    Gabe was locked in aerial combat with two of them, his wings barely keeping him ahead of their relentless pursuit. Iris dodged a Red Hand¡¯s lance, countering with a sharp kick that sent them tumbling. Even in their exhausted state, Bob¡¯s crew refused to be overwhelmed.


    Felix, emboldened by the chaos, turned his focus onto Bob. "Let¡¯s end this," he hissed, his body weaving through the mist as he struck. His speed was near impossible to track, his claws grazing Bob¡¯s side before vanishing into the fog again.


    Bob winced at the sting, but he wasn¡¯t going down that easily. Iris¡¯s aura flared. This time, instead of spreading wildly, she focused it on Felix. The moment it hit him, his movements shifted. His calculated attacks turned erratic, aggression clouding his judgment. He was losing control.


    Gabe capitalized on the opening, tackling Felix mid-strike and sending him crashing into the ruins. Sly flickered behind him, slashing deep into his exposed back. Felix hissed in pain, struggling to regain his composure, but Bob was already there, pushing through two more Red Hands who attempted to stop him.


    "You talk too much," Bob muttered, summoning his Fog Gauntlet.


    With a single, devastating punch, he drove his fist through Felix¡¯s chest. The Naga assassin gasped, his eyes widening before his body went limp.


    Silence fell. The remaining Red Hands faltered, momentarily stunned. Darius, still engaged in battle, turned just in time to see his comrade crumple lifelessly to the ground. His expression darkened, his grip on his weapon tightening as he took in the shift in the battlefield.


    "You¡¯re going to regret that," he growled, but he didn¡¯t attack. Instead, he took a step back, assessing the battlefield. They were injured, yes, but the fight wasn¡¯t worth the loss of another officer.


    Darius¡¯s gaze lingered on Bob. "This isn¡¯t over. The next time we meet, you won¡¯t be laughing."


    With a sharp motion, he signaled his men. The Red Hands withdrew into the fog, vanishing as quickly as they had arrived.


    Bob staggered, his muscles screaming in protest. He took a deep breath, letting the tension settle as the echoes of battle faded. Gabe landed beside him, wings folding in. "We made it."


    Iris exhaled. "Barely."


    Sly wiped the blood from his blade, wincing. "And the Archivists?"


    They were already gone. The Voynich Manuscript was secured by the Archivists, now that Bob and his crew had cleared the path.


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    Bob groaned and leaned forward, hands on his knees. "So... did we just get used? ¡®Cause it kinda feels like we just got used."


    Sly let out a dry chuckle. "You¡¯re just realizing that now?"


    Gabe stretched his sore wings. "To be fair, we¡¯re alive. That¡¯s something."


    Bob stood up straight, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "Yeah, yeah. We did our part. That¡¯s enough."


    Iris raised an eyebrow. "That sounded oddly responsible of you."


    Bob gave her a tired grin. "I''m evolving."


    Sly smirked. "Yeah, like a really slow, really dumb Pok¨¦mon."


    Bob opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. "...I don¡¯t know what that means, but I feel insulted."


    The crew let out a collective, exhausted laugh. Even in the face of everything, they still had that. But deep down, they all knew¡ªthis war was just getting started.


    The pickup truck rumbled through the mist, its tires crunching over broken asphalt as Bob¡¯s crew moved cautiously through the endless Pink Fog. Bob drove with one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally adjusting the rearview mirror to glance at the three figures marching beside the vehicle.


    Sly, Gabe, and Iris kept pace, their Glint forms shifting slightly with every step. The Pink Fog was thick today, denser than before. Even as they moved, they remained alert, scanning the mist for anything lurking within. They had fallen into a routine, one riding inside the truck to revert back to human form while the others stayed outside, maintaining their Glint states. It was the only way to ensure they would be combat-ready at a moment¡¯s notice.


    "This is getting boring," Sly muttered, keeping his pace steady. "Not that I want another Red Hands ambush, but it¡¯s been days. They¡¯re either gone, regrouping, or waiting for us to let our guard down."


    "They¡¯re not gone," Gabe said, scanning the skies. "They¡¯re just patient."


    "Patient sucks," Bob grumbled from the driver¡¯s seat. "I¡¯d rather get it over with."


    Iris, who had been mostly quiet, spoke. "Maybe no trouble is a good thing. We should take what we can get."


    The truck continued through the fog, the days blending into one another. Then, on the third day, they came across the settlement.


    It was small, barely standing, and surrounded by makeshift barricades of rusted metal and broken-down vehicles. A few survivors moved sluggishly behind the barriers, their eyes tracking the truck as it rolled closer. There was something off about them¡ªnot the desperate hunger of the starving or the hardened caution of warriors. Their eyes held something else.


    Hollow. Tired. Fading.


    Bob slowed the truck to a stop just outside the perimeter, exchanging looks with his crew. "Well, this place screams ¡®bad idea.¡¯"


    Gabe exhaled. "Agreed. But we¡¯re already here."


    As they stepped out, a group of settlers hesitantly approached. They weren¡¯t hostile, just wary. One man, older, with deep lines etched into his face, nodded at them. "Travelers don¡¯t usually stop here."


    ¡°We go where the road takes us,¡± Bob replied. ¡°And it led us here.¡±


    The old man studied them for a moment, then motioned for them to follow. ¡°Come inside. But don¡¯t cause trouble.¡±


    The deeper they went into the settlement, the stranger it felt. The people weren¡¯t starving, but they weren¡¯t thriving either. A dazed sluggishness clung to them, as if they were somewhere between being alive and something else entirely. Then Bob caught sight of something in the shadows¡ªa transaction happening in the open, but with hushed movements.


    A thin man, his hands shaking, passed a few broken valuables to another, who in return handed him a vial of shimmering pink powder.


    Bob frowned. "What the hell is that?"


    The old man, who had been watching, sighed. "Little Finger¡¯s Pink Dust."


    Iris narrowed her eyes. "A drug?"


    "A lifeline," the old man said bitterly. "Or a curse. Depends on who you ask."


    Pink Dust. A refined version of Pink Fog fragments, processed into an addictive, inhalable form. It granted a temporary surge of strength, heightened senses, and an almost euphoric feeling of invincibility. But the withdrawal was brutal, and over time, the mind degraded, slipping closer and closer to the edge of losing control.


    "And people still take it?" Gabe asked, disgust in his voice.


    ¡°People take what they need to survive,¡± the old man said quietly. ¡°Some do it to keep moving forward. Others¡­ because they¡¯ve forgotten how to stop.¡±


    A small voice cut through the silence, filled with fragile hope. ¡°My dad will stop. He¡¯s getting better. He promised.¡±


    Bob turned. A girl, no older than ten, stood a few feet away, clutching a worn-out scarf in her hands. She looked at them with wide eyes, unshaken by the bleakness around her.


    "He promised he¡¯d stop. Then we¡¯re gonna leave this place together. Somewhere safe." She smiled, as if the thought alone was enough to make it real.


    Bob and his crew exchanged glances. In the distance, a man sat slumped against a crate, a nearly empty vial of Pink Dust beside him. He was barely conscious, his breathing shallow.


    Bob exhaled, his fists clenching. "Kid... how long has he been saying that?"


    "A while," she admitted. "But this time, he means it."


    Iris looked away, Sly rubbed the back of his neck, and Gabe simply sighed. This wasn¡¯t a fight they could win.


    Bob stared at the man, the ¡®traders¡¯ lurking in the background, the girl¡¯s unwavering belief in a future that would never come. His usual response¡ªbreaking something, tearing it down¡ªwouldn¡¯t work here. The drug trades would continue, the Pink Dust would keep flowing, and desperate people would keep searching for ways to escape their reality.


    Bob hated walking away from a fight. But this wasn¡¯t a fight. It was just... life, in the worst way.


    Without a word, he turned and walked back to the truck.


    Sly followed. "That¡¯s it? We¡¯re just leaving?"


    "Yeah," Bob muttered.


    "You¡¯re not gonna smash anything? Punch a dealer? Break the crates?"


    "Would it change anything?"


    Sly hesitated. He wanted to say yes, but he knew better.


    Iris glanced back at the girl one last time. "Let¡¯s go."


    They climbed into the truck, the engine rumbling to life. As they pulled away, Bob checked the mirror one last time. The girl was still there, still waiting for her father to wake up. Waiting for a promise that would never be fulfilled.


    Bob¡¯s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white.


    Sly broke the silence. "You¡¯re thinking too hard again."


    Bob exhaled. "Not everything should be this broken."


    No one had an answer to that.


    The truck rolled forward, disappearing into the fog.

 Chapter 24: The City of Chains

    The pickup truck rumbled through the endless Pink Fog, its tires grinding over broken asphalt as Bob¡¯s crew traveled cautiously through the desolate world. It had been days since they last saw signs of the Red Hands, but Bob¡¯s mind wasn¡¯t on that. His hand hovered over a small Pink Fragment, his fingers twitching as he hesitated before tossing it into his mouth.


    Closing his eyes, he whispered to himself, ¡°I¡¯m not an addict. I¡¯m not an addict.¡± Then, in one quick motion, he gulped it down.


    A snort came from the side of the truck. "That¡¯s exactly what an addict would say," Sly quipped, jogging beside the vehicle in his Specter form.


    "Yeah," Gabe called from above, flapping his massive Griffin wings as he scouted ahead.


    "You¡¯re really selling it, Bob. Maybe if you mutter it one more time, we¡¯ll believe you."


    Bob grunted, gripping the wheel. "I can stop whenever I want."


    "Sure," Sly smirked. "But you won¡¯t."


    Iris, marching calmly beside the truck, sighed. "Can you three not do this first thing in the morning?"


    Their travel through the Pink Fog had become routine. Bob drove the truck at a steady pace while the others stayed outside, maintaining their Glint forms to be combat-ready in case of an ambush. From time to time, one of them would hop into the truck to revert to human form, preventing them from turning into Fades. They cycled through these rotations as they journeyed, taking breaks when necessary, scavenging for supplies, and killing stray Fades whenever they crossed paths.


    It was dangerous, but necessary. The Pink Fog made them stronger, and absorbing Pink Fragments was the only way to progress their Glint abilities.


    Gabe returned from his latest aerial scout, landing lightly beside the truck. "Still no sign of Callers, but I don¡¯t like how quiet it¡¯s been. Either we¡¯re getting lucky, or something¡¯s waiting for us."


    "We¡¯re not fighting unless we have to," Iris reminded them. "If a Caller is in the way, we deal with it. If not, we move around. Simple."


    Bob grumbled. "Doesn¡¯t feel right. We¡¯ve been in the Fog this long, and not one big fight?"


    "We¡¯re not complaining," Sly muttered, flickering ahead in his Specter form, scouting the path before the truck. "Maybe the Red Hands got tired of chasing us."


    "Doubt it," Gabe said. "They¡¯re just waiting."


    Days passed in relative peace. The crew hunted stray Fades, scavenged abandoned stores and ruins, and refueled the truck whenever they could find extra gasoline. The Fog was their battleground and their training ground, but they remained cautious, only engaging in fights when necessary.


    Luck, it seemed, was on their side. They hadn¡¯t encountered another Caller since their battle alongside the Archivists. And they hadn¡¯t seen the Red Hands either. Maybe they had finally given up hunting them. Maybe they had found something more important. Maybe.


    Then, on the morning of the fourth day, everything changed.


    Gabe flew down from his latest scout, his wings kicking up dust as he landed beside them. "We¡¯ve got something ahead. A safe zone. A big one."


    Bob perked up immediately. "City-sized?"


    Gabe nodded. "At least. And it looks lively."


    Bob¡¯s stomach growled. ¡°Meat,¡± he whispered, almost reverently. He looked at Iris and Sly. "Hop in. We¡¯re getting to that city fast."


    Iris rolled her eyes but climbed into the truck along with Sly. "Just remember we¡¯re not here just for food. We need real supplies."


    Bob ignored her, already accelerating toward the city.


    ---


    As they neared, the massive walls of the safe zone loomed ahead. Unlike the smaller, barely-surviving settlements they had seen before, this city stood strong. Tall barricades, fortified gates, and watchtowers gave it an air of power and control. As they drove closer, Bob could see lines of people waiting at the entrance, traders carrying goods, and guards carefully inspecting each traveler before allowing them through.


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    It almost felt normal. Like the old world, before the Pink Fog.


    "Looks organized," Gabe muttered. "Not like the other places we¡¯ve seen."


    "They¡¯re trying to rebuild something here," Iris said, watching as market stalls filled with food, clothing, and weapons came into view just beyond the gates. Vendors called out to travelers, haggling, selling, creating a sense of commerce that had nearly disappeared from the world.


    Bob pulled up to the entrance checkpoint, rolling the truck to a stop. A guard in reinforced armor stepped forward. "Welcome to the City of Graves. State your business."


    Bob blinked. "The what now?"


    A boy, no older than twelve, leaned against the nearby gate, flipping a coin between his fingers. He smirked. "First time here? Then for a small fee, I¡¯ll tell you everything you need to know."


    Bob gave him a flat look. "You want me to pay you to tell me where I am?"


    "It¡¯s a big city," the boy said. "You don¡¯t want to step on the wrong toes."


    Bob crossed his arms. "We¡¯ll take our chances."


    The boy shrugged. "Suit yourselves. Just don¡¯t act surprised when you realize this place isn¡¯t what it seems."


    Bob exhaled and looked at Iris. "See? This is why we don¡¯t trust kids."


    Iris gave him a deadpan stare. "No, this is why kids don¡¯t trust you."


    Bob smirked but said nothing as the gates creaked open, revealing the heart of the city.


    Inside, the safe zone was alive. People filled the streets, merchants peddled their wares, and despite the post-apocalyptic world beyond the walls, there was a sense of stability here.


    "They really are trying to bring back the old world," Gabe said, watching as a group of children ran past, laughing as if they had never known the horrors outside.


    But not everything was as perfect as it seemed.


    A crackling radio broadcast played from a set of loudspeakers positioned throughout the city. It was a repeat of a previous transmission, but one they were hearing for the first time, having been away from safe zones for days.


    Dr. Halbridge, in a live interview with a field reporter.


    "¡­our latest observations confirm how Callers are formed. Stray Fades gradually group together, and as their numbers increase, one among them begins to mutate beyond the others. This new entity produces an aura, changing the lesser Fades under its control into its own race. Once a pack reaches fifty, the Caller becomes a pseudo-Boss, and when it claims territory, it transitions into a full-fledged Boss, ruling over a domain of two hundred Fades or more.¡±


    ¡°As for Fragments¡­ our understanding continues to evolve. Pink Fragments, as most of you know, enhance Glint abilities and have become the world¡¯s unofficial currency. White Fragments, rarer and far more valuable, are the key to establishing and maintaining protected zones. Small White Fragments harvested from Fades can also be used by Glints to safely enter existing safe zones.¡±


    ¡°Further research has shown that these same White Fragments can be combined. When twelve are placed in close proximity, they magnetize and generate a small, temporary safe zone, roughly a one-foot radius. While limited in size, this effect has proven vital for emergency use.¡±


    ¡°In a separate development, vehicles can now travel through the Pink Fog by embedding enough White Fragments to generate a continuous protective field. When properly equipped, the entire vehicle becomes a mobile safe zone, allowing passengers to move through contaminated areas without triggering Glint transformations.¡±


    ¡°Additionally, recent field experiments have uncovered a promising survival breakthrough. Nightmare creatures, animals or plants mutated by prolonged exposure to the Pink Fog, can now be safely consumed. Once killed and brought into a safe zone, their bodies revert to their original, pre-mutation state, making them viable for food. This has already led to organized hunts in several regions, helping settlements supplement their dwindling supplies.¡±


    ¡°We advise extreme caution when handling these creatures outside a safe zone, as their behavior remains erratic and highly aggressive.¡±


    The broadcast continued, but Bob had already stopped listening.


    Bob listened, only half paying attention. Right now, he was more focused on what really mattered.


    "Bob¡¯s eyes widened with excitement as he processed the last part of the broadcast. "Did you hear that? Meat! Let¡¯s find a place to eat!"


    Sly snorted. "You just learned about Callers, Boss Fades, White Fragments, and safe zone technology, and this is what you¡¯re focusing on?"


    Bob shrugged. "I don¡¯t see any Callers or Boss Fade here. I see food stalls. Priorities, Sly. Priorities."


    They moved deeper into the city, unaware that beneath its thriving surface, the true nature of the City of Graves was waiting to be revealed.


    The deeper they went into the city, the more the initial sense of normalcy started to fade. The bustling streets, the traders haggling over goods, the faint scent of cooked meat in the air, it was all a thin veil covering something darker. There was an edge to the way people moved, an unspoken understanding that things operated under strict rules.


    Bob slowed his pace, taking in the atmosphere. "Alright. This place feels... different."


    Sly glanced around, his usual smirk absent. "Yeah, not just ¡®big city energy.¡¯ More like ¡®don¡¯t ask questions you don¡¯t want the answers to.¡¯"


    Just then, the same boy from earlier appeared at their side, flipping his coin lazily. "Still lost?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.


    Bob sighed. "Alright, kid. You win." He pulled out a Pink Fragment and handed it over. "Tell us what we need to know."


    The boy grinned, pocketing the fragment. "Smart choice. Welcome to the City of Graves, one of the biggest safe zones left. But this isn¡¯t some hopeful little settlement, and it sure ain¡¯t a democracy. It¡¯s a place where money talks and power walks."


    He gestured around, his voice lowering slightly as he spoke. "Five major factions keep this place running, and if you¡¯re planning to stick around, you better know who¡¯s who.¡±


    ¡°The Hooks are the slavers, if you¡¯ve got a rare Glint, they¡¯ll find a buyer. Elves, Succubi, anything exotic, they¡¯ll sell them for pleasure, labor, or worse. They¡¯re well connected, and people who cross them tend to disappear¡±.


    ¡°Then you¡¯ve got The Gloves, the bounty hunters. If someone wants you dead or alive, they¡¯re the ones to make it happen. They work with anyone who needed, kidnappings, retrievals, anything that keeps the market moving. If you¡¯re worth more breathing, they¡¯ll bring you in still kicking. If not, well¡­ you get the idea."


    The boy flicked the coin in his fingers, his voice dropping lower. "Then there are The Orphans, kids left behind, no families, no homes. They survive by running scams, setting traps, and stealing. Some are just pickpockets, but the organized ones? They can take down a full-grown Glint if they work together. They¡¯re smarter than people give them credit for.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ve got the Blood Creed and the Fog Walkers, cults, two different flavors of crazy. The Blood Creed worships the Pink Fog, believes Glints are chosen beings, and that everyone else is just waiting to be converted. The Fog Walkers? They think the Fog should consume everything, that resisting it is unnatural. The only reason they haven¡¯t torn each other apart is that they keep each other in check."


    Bob exhaled. "Great. A whole city run by criminals, fanatics, and mercenaries. Just my kind of place."


    The boy chuckled. "You haven¡¯t even met the boss yet. The Graves Family owns this place. Built the walls, set the rules, and enforce them. Dante Graves runs the show now, and let¡¯s just say he doesn¡¯t like competition. He¡¯s got a Glint called Blood Revenant¡ªthe longer he fights, the stronger he gets. He doesn¡¯t need to show off. Everyone already knows he¡¯s top dog."


    For the briefest moment, Iris tensed. Her hands curled slightly before she forced them still, her expression remaining unreadable. No one noticed the faint hesitation, the way her posture stiffened before she carefully turned away, masking whatever reaction had almost surfaced. The moment passed, buried beneath the weight of the conversation. But she knew that name, Dante Graves.

 Chapter 25: Breaking Chains

    Bob exchanged glances with his crew, absorbing the weight of what they¡¯d walked into. "Yeah. Sounds like a real paradise."


    The boy smirked and flipped the coin one last time. "Enjoy your stay. Just don¡¯t get caught on the wrong side of things."


    Bob watched him walk away before calling out, ¡°Hey, kid. Got a name?¡±


    The boy paused, glanced back over his shoulder, and smirked. ¡°What, you gonna start being friendly now?¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Could happen.¡±


    ¡°Name¡¯s Finn,¡± the boy said, slipping the coin into his pocket. ¡°Try not to forget it.¡±


    Bob smirked as Finn disappeared into the crowd. "Kid¡¯s gonna own this town someday."


    Bob¡¯s stomach growled, a sharp contrast to the grim reality around them. He scowled at himself. Meat first. Problems later.


    The crew found a restaurant tucked between market stalls, a modest but busy spot with open seating and the scent of grilled meat hanging in the air. It wasn¡¯t luxury, but in a world like this, it might as well have been five-star dining.


    Bob dropped into a seat, exhaling. "Alright. Someone order me the biggest thing on the menu."


    A waiter, barely older than a teenager, hesitated before approaching. ¡°Uh, we have grilled Nightmare Boar¡­ and roasted Nightmare Cow.¡±


    Though both were fully cleansed inside a safe zone before being served, it was common knowledge that most customers still avoided eating Nightmare meat. No matter how safe it was, the thought of consuming something that had once mutated in the Fog left a bad taste in people¡¯s mouths.


    ¡°Perfect. Bring both. Extra portions.¡±


    To Bob, food was food. Whether it used to be a Nightmare or not didn¡¯t matter, if it filled his stomach, that was good enough.


    As they waited for their food, Bob¡¯s crew observed the city from the restaurant, now seeing it from a different perspective. Across the street, certain people were escorted forcefully through the streets, while others looked away when cages were rolled through the markets, carrying people who weren¡¯t just prisoners, they were products.


    A line of chained humans was marched toward a heavily guarded section of the market. Bruised, exhausted, and barely conscious, they moved in silence. No one in the crowd stopped to watch. No outrage. No concern. Just another transaction in a city where slavery had become routine.


    ¡°That looks like the Hooks¡¯ work,¡± Sly muttered. ¡°Can¡¯t say for sure, but they¡¯re not exactly subtle.¡±


    "They don¡¯t have to," Iris said bitterly. "This place allows it."


    Bob clenched his fists. "We should¡ª"


    "We can¡¯t," Gabe cut in. "Not yet."


    Bob exhaled slowly, forcing himself to move on, but the sight lingered. He had always had a soft spot for kids and the elderly, maybe even parents, if they were good ones, because he never had any of that himself. It wasn¡¯t something he talked about, but it was there, buried under all the fighting and reckless decisions. He hadn¡¯t helped that old man back in the safe zone just for the hell of it; he¡¯d done it because he couldn¡¯t ignore him. The same reason he had helped the Archivists, why he had agreed to find Iris¡¯s parents. The kid Mira, too.


    Seeing those caged humans, it made his stomach turn in a way even the worst battles didn¡¯t.


    From their table at the restaurant, something outside caught their attention. A commotion near one of the side alleys, a group of young teens, barely more than kids, were arguing with a pair of heavily armed men. Sly¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Could be the Gloves. Fits the look... and they don¡¯t seem like the negotiating type.¡±


    "They¡¯re bounty hunters," Iris said, narrowing her eyes. "This isn¡¯t a bounty. This is a kidnapping. Look!"


    A teenage girl was being dragged by the bounty hunters, her wrists bound as she thrashed against their grip. Her friends rushed in to stop them, but the mercenaries shoved them back with brutal efficiency.


    One of the armed men sneered as he tightened his grip. ¡°You Orphans are a headache. Not even blood-related¡ªso why bother saving her? The Hooks pay extra for an Elf Glint.¡±


    The fact that she was an Elf Glint made her valuable¡ªand not in a way that ever ended well once the Hooks got involved.


    "Please!" one of the Orphans begged. "You can¡¯t take her! We¡¯ll pay! We¡¯ll do anything!"


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    One of the Gloves sneered. "Not your call, kid. You think you can just steal from the wrong people and walk away? The Hooks paid us, and they want her. And trust me, they have very... specific buyers in mind."


    The girl¡¯s struggling intensified, her eyes flashing with desperation, but the bounty hunters tightened their hold. One of the younger Orphans pulled a knife and lunged. The bounty hunter barely blinked, grabbing the kid by the wrist and twisting with brutal efficiency. The sound of bones snapping made Bob¡¯s stomach turn.


    The young thief screamed in pain as he was thrown aside. "Idiots," the hunter muttered. "You just made this harder."


    The Orphans were desperate but outmatched. They weren¡¯t here to win. They were just trying to prevent more of their own from being taken.


    One of them triggered a makeshift trap, a pile of debris crashed down from above, scattering the Gloves. The Orphans seized their chance, grabbing their injured friend and bolting into the alleys. But they had no time to save the girl.


    "Run! Now!"


    But the Gloves weren¡¯t amateurs. They recovered quickly, securing their prize and letting the others flee. The girl screamed as she was pulled into the shadows, the heavy iron doors of a transport wagon slamming shut behind her.


    Bob clenched his fists, his entire body tense. But he didn''t move. This wasn''t his fight. Not yet.


    -----


    The Pink Fog swirled thick around the outskirts of the City of Graves, blanketing the ruins in an eerie, shifting mist. Inside the dense haze, a small group moved in absolute silence¡­ The Orphans, creeping through the broken streets, their eyes locked on their prize.


    She was close. Their sister. Their friend. Stolen from them.


    The girl, an Elf Glint, had been transported to the slavers, The Hooks¡¯ holding site, a fortified outpost deep within the Pink Fog, just beyond the city¡¯s perimeter. Inside, Glint captives awaited their fates, each one already priced for the Black Market¡¯s most twisted customers. The Orphans knew that if they waited too long, she¡¯d be gone, sold like an object, never to be seen again.


    Tonight, that wasn¡¯t going to happen.


    With hearts pounding, they spread out, setting their ambush. The Orphans, fifteen in total, had made a quick plan the moment they learned about the scheduled exchange. Each of them had transformed into their Glint forms, enhancing their speed, strength, and senses for the assault. Among them, some had taken on Shadow Striders, perfect for weaving through the fog unseen; others had become Ferals, boosting their agility and raw strength; while a few took on Gale Runners, able to burst through obstacles with high-speed strikes. Their plan was simple: hit fast, hit hard, get her out before the Hooks even knew what happened.


    But the Hooks had been waiting for them.


    As soon as the Orphans struck, the battle erupted in the fog. Steel clashed, bodies slammed against debris, and the air filled with the sounds of desperate fighting. The Hooks, armed and experienced, countered their assault, forcing them back almost instantly. Unlike the Orphans, they weren¡¯t just a ragtag group¡ªthey were seasoned traffickers, trained in subduing and breaking Glints.


    One of the Hooks, his skin lined with cracks of glowing red, took a step forward and swung a molten fist, striking a Feral and sending him flying into a crumbling wall. A Lava Brute¡ªhis body was resistant to physical attacks, and his strikes burned hot. Another Hook member, his form flickering like a mirage, moved impossibly fast, a Blink Stepper, striking before vanishing into the mist, reappearing behind an Orphan and slamming him into the ground.


    "You little rats really thought you could just waltz in here?" the Blink Stepper sneered, dodging a strike from a Gale Runner before slamming the Orphan into the ground. "You¡¯re out of your league."


    "We¡¯re not here to fight you," one of the Orphans, a Shadow Strider, growled as he twisted out of another¡¯s grip, his form flickering in and out of the mist. "We just want her back."


    A Hook with a jagged scar across his cheek chuckled darkly. "Oh, we know. That¡¯s why we¡¯re ready for you."


    The Hooks weren¡¯t just restraining the girl, they were controlling the entire fight. They pushed the Orphans into a corner, forcing them to waste energy while the traffickers held their ground. The Orphans had speed, they had skill, but the Hooks had dominance. These men were slavers, trained to capture, trained to break, and efficient at both. Every move the Orphans made was countered with brutal precision. The Hooks fought with purpose, this was business, and she was the cargo.


    Stepping from the fog like specters, the bounty hunters appeared, just as the Hooks had planned. The Gloves weren¡¯t just hired guns; they were professionals, trained to subdue, capture, and eliminate with lethal precision. Their job was simple: make sure this rescue never succeeded.


    What the Hooks and Gloves didn¡¯t know was that Finn had tipped off Bob¡¯s crew about the exchange. By the time they arrived, the bounty hunters were already preparing to move against the Orphans¡ªconfident, focused, and completely unaware they were being watched.


    Sly muttered, ¡°These kids again. They really don¡¯t know how to quit.¡±


    Bob cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Lucky for them, neither do we.¡±


    ¡°Gabe, Iris¡ªhelp the kids!¡± Bob shouted, already moving. ¡°Sly, we take the Gloves!¡±


    And just like that, the battlefield shifted. The Orphans weren¡¯t alone anymore. Bob¡¯s presence turned the tide from a desperate escape to an all-out war. He didn¡¯t need a plan, just a direction.


    Gabe took to the air, his massive wings cutting through the mist, while Iris charged into the fray, her aura disrupting the Hooks¡¯ formation. The Orphans felt the momentum shift¡ªtheir struggle had become a real fight, one they had a chance to win.


    Bob met the first bounty hunter head-on, his Fog Gauntlet slamming into a reinforced armguard. Sparks flashed as the impact sent both of them staggering back. The Gloves fought like seasoned Glint hunters, disciplined, efficient, and far stronger than the average fighter.


    One of them, an earth Golem, planted himself in Bob¡¯s way, his body resembling hardened stone as he absorbed the next blow and countered with a devastating punch that sent Bob sliding back. Another, a Shade Dancer, flickered forward, warping short distances in the mist, striking out at Sly before vanishing again.


    The fight turned into a chaotic dance of blows and counters. Bob couldn¡¯t simply brute-force his way through, each hit needed to be timed, his Fog Gauntlet shifting to a Fog Club mid-fight, countering the Bastion¡¯s defenses. Sly used the mist to his advantage, outmaneuvering the Shade Dancer and slicing a deep wound across his side before vanishing into the fog again.


    Meanwhile, Gabe rained down destruction from above, knocking Hooks off their feet as Iris pushed through their defenses, forcing them into chaos. The Orphans, emboldened, fought with renewed aggression, their numbers suddenly enough to match The Hooks.


    Then, in the middle of the chaos, the cage door was ripped open.


    The Elf Glint girl stumbled forward, her eyes filled with disbelief. She was free.


    The fight wasn¡¯t over, but the battle had shifted. The Hooks and The Gloves weren¡¯t winning anymore. They were losing. Badly.


    One by one, they retreated, some dragging wounded allies, others vanishing into the mist.


    They weren¡¯t wiped out, not entirely, but their hold over this operation had been shattered. Tonight, they had been beaten.


    The Orphans regrouped in the ruins, the rescued girl sitting quietly among them, still processing what had happened. They had won her freedom ¡ªfor now.


    Gabe watched the city loom in the distance. "They¡¯re not just going to let this go."


    One of the Orphans, a boy with dirt-streaked skin and defiant eyes, smirked. "They¡¯ll have to catch us first."


    Bob cracked his knuckles, glancing back at the city. "Where¡¯s the fun in that?"


    The sun rose over the City of Graves, its shadows stretching long over the ruins.


    By morning, word had spread. Bob¡¯s crew had interfered. They had broken the careful balance of power inside the City of Graves. The Hooks had been weakened. The Gloves had been embarrassed. And the Orphans? They had just proven they weren¡¯t helpless.


    But it came at a cost.


    In this city, there were rules, spoken and unspoken. And one of those rules was simple: Don¡¯t disrupt business.


    Dante Graves had been watching. He wouldn¡¯t ignore this.


    It seemed the fight wasn¡¯t over.

 Chapter 26: The City of Graves

    The towering gates of the Graves Safe Zone stood ahead, reinforced with thick steel plating. Guards patrolled the walls, their eyes scanning the approaching group. Bob cracked his knuckles as he pulled up in their worn-down pickup truck, their mobile safe zone, scarred more by miles of travel than any recent fight. Iris and Sly had already gone ahead, escorting the rescued Orphans into the city. Bob pulled up to the gate in their pickup truck, with Gabe seated beside him.


    Bob let out a sigh, stretching his arms. ¡°Finally, a proper place to rest. More importantly, food.¡±


    A figure stepped forward, blocking the path.


    Dante Graves.


    His coat barely moved in the wind, but there was weight behind his presence. He wasn¡¯t some random guard standing on orders, he was the man who ran this city. And right now, he looked like he wanted to strangle someone. His gray eyes locked onto Bob, cold and unreadable.


    ¡°You¡¯re not coming in.¡±


    Bob blinked. ¡°Why?¡±


    Dante¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Because you wrecked my business.¡±


    Bob scratched his head. ¡°Wait¡­ do you own a butcher shop?¡±


    Gabe sighed from the passenger seat, arms crossed as he glanced at Bob. "Bob, he¡¯s talking about the bounty system. The slavers. The underground network you tore apart."


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± Bob shrugged. ¡°Yeah, they sucked.¡±


    Dante¡¯s fingers curled into a fist. ¡°You have no idea what you¡¯ve done. The bounty system wasn¡¯t just about hunting people¡ªit was control. And now, it¡¯s chaos.¡±


    Bob wasn¡¯t listening. He was staring over Dante¡¯s shoulder at a food stall inside the gate, his stomach growling.


    Dante exhaled sharply. He had worked for months to maintain order in this city, making sure the right people held power, that the streets functioned his way. Then Bob smashed through it all in one day like it was nothing. And now, he stood here like it didn¡¯t matter.


    ¡°You think this place runs on kindness?¡± Dante¡¯s voice was low, controlled. ¡°I should kill you right here.¡±


    From the safe zone gates, Iris stepped forward, arms crossed. ¡°So that¡¯s how you run your city? Killing people at the gates?¡±


    That was when Dante finally saw her.


    His focus shattered.


    For a moment, everything else faded.


    She was still the same Iris, but not the one he remembered. Her presence was different. Sharper. Dante had been a fan from the very beginning, watching Iris rise from a talented hopeful to a star. He had even arranged sponsorship deals for her, ensuring she had the right connections. Back then, he admired her from a distance, impressed by her fire and the way she commanded attention.


    Then, the scandal struck. While he was abroad studying, the media tore her apart, branding her a disgrace. By the time he returned, she and her entire family, had disappeared. He had tried to bury the worst of the rumors, suppressing the false claims about her being a drug pusher, but it hadn¡¯t mattered. The damage was done, and she was gone.


    And now, she was standing here. Alive. Strong.


    His fingers twitched. He almost said her name again. Almost let that moment slip through.


    Instead, she spoke first.


    ¡°¡­Dante,¡±


    It was a simple acknowledgment, but it carried weight. A flicker of recognition, no warmth, no smile.


    Once, there might¡¯ve been something between them. Not spoken. Not defined. Just a quiet current beneath shared glances and unspoken words, too fleeting to name, but impossible to ignore. Before everything changed. Before she rose through the ranks, and he left for his studies abroad.


    Maybe, in another version of their lives, that something could¡¯ve become more. But time had moved on and so had she.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    And standing there, looking at her now, he felt it, that whatever once lingered between them¡­ it wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    That stung more than he expected.


    Then his gaze snapped back to Bob. The irritation tripled.


    Why was she standing up for this idiot?


    He pushed the thought away. He had a point to prove.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Dante rolled his shoulders, his tone shifting. ¡°If you want in, you prove your worth.¡±


    Bob yawned. ¡°That sounds like work.¡±


    Dante ignored him. He stepped forward, toward the edge of the fog. The Pink mist curled around his boots, wrapping up his arms. He let it settle¡ªten seconds was all he needed.


    Dante''s Glint form, Blood Revenant, activated the moment the Pink Fog clung to his skin. His veins darkened, glowing faintly with a deep red hue as if his blood itself was shifting. His breath steadied, muscles hardening as raw strength coursed through him. His entire body felt lighter, faster, deadlier. The longer he fought, the stronger he became, a relentless force that refused to slow down.


    It was instantaneous. Controlled. Not like Bob¡¯s wild bursts of strength, this was refined, precise. This was why he thought he was better.


    Iris''s eyes widened slightly, her usual composure slipping for just a moment. "That fast..." she muttered under her breath.


    Beside Bob, Gabe straightened in his seat, watching with newfound interest. "So he''s like Bob? No delay?" he mused, rubbing his chin.


    This wasn''t normal. Most Glint users needed time, effort. But Dante had stepped into the fog, and his transformation had snapped into place like second nature.


    Dante stepped up onto a broken bench on the side of the road near the entrance, a ruined bus stop waiting shed with no roof. From his elevated position, he let his transformed presence settle over the crowd, ensuring everyone could see the shift in power. His aura flickered red as he locked eyes with Bob. ¡°Still want in?¡±


    Bob tilted his head. ¡°You got taller.¡±


    Dante¡¯s smirk twitched. ¡°That¡¯s not the point.¡±


    The crowd murmured as the full weight of Dante¡¯s transformation took hold. His presence was different now, heavier, more dangerous. Even the guards began to shift uneasily, sensing the change in the air.


    Dante took a step forward. ¡°You fight. You win. You¡ª¡±


    Bob pushed open the truck door, stepping out as the Pink Fog swirled around him. The moment his boots hit the ground, his Glint form, Goliath, surged to life. His body expanded, muscles thickening, and his skin took on a faint metallic sheen. The air around him grew heavy with raw power.


    Without hesitation, he strode toward Dante, who was still standing on the ruined bus stop bench, soaking in the attention. Bob stopped in front of him, sizing him up for a moment.


    Then, as casually as lifting a grocery bag, he grabbed the entire bench¡ªDante included¡ªand hoisted it off the ground.


    The movement was so casual, so effortless, that Dante barely reacted until the bench was off the ground, tilting slightly in Bob¡¯s grip.


    People stared. Silence. Then a snicker. Then more laughter.


    Dante barely caught himself before falling backward. His feet hit the ground, stumbling slightly before he righted himself. His jaw clenched as his red aura flared violently.


    The crowd was watching him, not in awe, but in amusement.


    Iris rubbed her temples. Gabe shook his head. ¡°Here we go again.¡±


    Bob looked at Dante, still holding the bench. ¡°You looked really serious up there. Thought I¡¯d give you a better view.¡±


    Dante ground his teeth. ¡°Put. Me. Down.¡±


    Bob shrugged and dropped the entire bench with a loud thud. Dante barely held his footing. Somewhere in the crowd, someone coughed to hide a laugh.


    This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go. Dante was the one who had trained, who built the city''s control, who held the power.


    And yet.


    Bob stretched his arms, glancing at the sky. ¡°The sun¡¯s been up for a while now. Feels like breakfast time.¡±


    The tension lingered, Dante¡¯s red aura still flickering, stronger than before, but Bob had already lost interest.


    Gabe leaned against the truck, shaking his head. ¡°You just can¡¯t help yourself, huh?¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°What? He was standing on a bench. It looked weird.¡±


    Dante clenched his fists, rage burning behind his eyes. This was supposed to be a display of power. Instead, Bob had turned it into a joke.


    Then, the murmurs in the crowd shifted, pulling attention away from their standoff. A procession of figures emerged from inside the gates, moving in a slow, deliberate march toward the fog. They walked in single file, their steps synchronized, as if they were being guided by an unseen force. Their clothing was mismatched, some in tattered rags, others in old worker uniforms or coats too large for their frames. Their faces were eerily vacant, eyes unfocused, mouths slightly parted but silent. There were men and women of varying ages, from young adults to middle-aged survivors, but no children. None of them spoke, not even to acknowledge those watching. Their silence was more unsettling than any chant or prayer could have been.


    Dante stepped back, his glare shifting toward them. ¡°Again?¡± he muttered under his breath.


    Bob stepped forward, finally closing the distance to the entrance. The guards hesitated, but the looming presence of the pilgrimage forced them to shift aside, allowing him to pass.


    Just as he was about to enter, the eerie procession caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s their deal?¡±


    The guards stationed near the entrance stiffened as the procession passed, but no one stopped them. There were no shouts, no protests. Just the eerie shuffle of boots and soft whispers as more people took notice.


    ¡°The second pilgrimage,¡± a voice said behind Bob.


    He turned to see a young girl standing near the truck. Elise. Gabe had already driven it inside during Bob¡¯s earlier standoff with Dante, ensuring their mobile safe zone was secured within the city. Her arms were crossed tightly, her expression grim.


    ¡°They¡¯re going out again,¡± she said, watching them disappear into the mist. ¡°More than last time.¡±


    Bob frowned. ¡°And that¡¯s bad because¡­?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not acting like themselves,¡± Elise muttered. ¡°They don¡¯t talk. They barely react to anything. Even the ones who came back, they¡¯re¡­ off.¡±


    Dante scoffed, rolling his shoulders as he pushed past Bob. ¡°Let them go. It¡¯s their choice.¡±


    Elise shot him a glare. ¡°You say that now, but what happens when half the city starts following them?¡±


    Bob squinted at her. "Wait a sec. Who are you? You¡¯ve been talking to us for a minute now, but I have no idea who you are."


    Elise blinked, then sighed, running a hand through her short, messy hair. "Name¡¯s Elise. I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on these pilgrimages. My brother was in the last one. Never came back the same."


    Dante didn¡¯t answer, though his jaw tightened slightly. He turned his attention back to Bob, but before he could say anything, another voice cut through the uneasy silence.


    ¡°They¡¯re just believers,¡± a man called out from the crowd. ¡°They¡¯re showing that the fog chooses who it protects.¡±


    A few others nodded, murmuring in agreement. The Fog Walkers had become more than just another cult in the city. They believed the Pink Fog was divine, a force that chose who was worthy to walk through it. By stepping into the fog in human form, they believed they were offering themselves for judgment, trusting that those who returned had been accepted.


    The first pilgrimage had been small¡ªonly a handful of believers who stepped into the Pink Fog in human form, their faith unwavering. Without waiting for their transformations, their glint forms, they walked deeper, moving between the ruins and broken streets, testing the fog¡¯s supposed protection. When they returned unscathed, rumors spread quickly. No Fades attacked them, no harm came their way, and their belief that the fog chose who was worthy solidified. The city took notice.


    The second pilgrimage had just begun, larger and more organized than the first. As they stepped into the fog in human form, they followed the paths of those before them, trusting that the fog would protect them as it had done before. The first pilgrimage had proven their belief, those who had walked the same path days ago had returned unharmed, untouched by any creatures. That success had emboldened them. Now, with even more followers stepping forward, their influence was spreading rapidly, drawing more to their cause with each passing day.

 Chapter 27: Shadows of Faith

    The people spoke in whispers of those who had ventured further into the fog, claiming they had seen visions, heard voices calling them deeper. It was said that the further they went, the closer they came to ascension. That those who did not return had simply been chosen for something greater. The fact that some had vanished entirely did not shake their faith, it strengthened it. If the fog had taken them, then surely, it was meant to be.


    Bob scratched his head. ¡°They sure seem confident.¡±


    Gale and Vell appeared beside Elise, both watching the disappearing figures with wary expressions.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t used to act like this,¡± Gale muttered.


    Vell crossed her arms. ¡°They come back unharmed, but it¡¯s like they leave something behind when they do.¡±


    Bob squinted at them, nodding slowly as realization dawned. "Wait a sec... who are you two? You¡¯ve been standing here talking like we know you, but I have no clue. Wait¡ªyou¡¯re with the orphans, right?"


    Gale smirked slightly. He was lean, wiry, with sharp eyes that darted constantly, always scanning his surroundings. His dark hair was messy, and his clothes, patched together from scavenged gear, showed he had spent years surviving in the ruins. "Yeah, we are. Name¡¯s Gale. You and your crew saved our asses back there. Would¡¯ve been in a cage if not for you."


    Vell nodded, her short, unevenly cut silver-blond hair giving her a rugged appearance. Her sharp eyes flickered with caution, and she stood with a quiet confidence. She wore a worn leather jacket over a tunic, its edges frayed from time spent surviving in the ruins. There was nothing flashy about her, but there was resilience in the way she carried herself. "I was one of them too. The one you pulled out before they could sell me off." She hesitated, then gave a small, respectful nod. "I owe you. We all do."


    Bob glanced toward the fog, watching as the last of the group vanished into the pink mist. He turned back to Gale and Vell, nodding slightly. "So, your people saw all this firsthand?"


    Gale folded his arms. "Yeah. We¡¯ve been keeping tabs on them for a while. It started small, but this? This is something else."


    Vell frowned. "They walk like they''re not all there. Like part of them stays behind in the fog every time they go out."


    Bob exhaled, shifting his gaze back toward the empty street where the pilgrims had walked. He had seen plenty of weird things since this whole mess started, but this was something else. He wasn¡¯t sure what yet.


    Dante, still standing on edge, exhaled slowly. The fight had been stolen from him, his frustration evident in the way his fists remained clenched at his sides. He took one last look at Bob, then turned away.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over.¡±


    Bob blinked, scratching his head. "Wait¡­ did something even start?" He looked around, half-expecting someone to explain, but Dante had already turned and was walking away, his fists still clenched at his sides.


    Bob shrugged and turned toward the gates, stepping inside as if nothing had happened. The others followed, slipping through past the guards.


    Behind them, Dante remained at the entrance, his gaze fixed, not on Bob, but on Iris. His frustration burned, and it wasn¡¯t just because of Bob¡¯s antics. It was the way she¡¯d spoken to him: cold, distant, like he was nothing more than a city official to be dealt with. He had imagined this moment differently. But now she was walking away, as if he was just another face in the crowd.


    His fists clenched at his sides. Bob was an obstacle. But Iris¡­ she was the reason he couldn¡¯t let this go.


    And he wasn¡¯t done yet.


    The streets of Graves Safe Zone stretched ahead, lined with makeshift homes, market stalls, and repurposed buildings. Bob and his crew moved steadily through the district, their path taking them past one of the largest structures in the city, a towering, reinforced cathedral that loomed over the nearby buildings like an ancient monument.


    Gale gestured toward it with a nod. "That¡¯s the heart of Blood Creed. Used to be some old-world church before the meteor, but they turned it into something else."


    Vell scoffed. "Something bigger. Something powerful. They say it¡¯s more than just a faith now. Some of the Graves Family are even part of it. Not just nobles or officers¡ªactual blood relatives."


    Bob raised an eyebrow. "So, they run the city and a church? Sounds like too much work."


    Gale shook his head. "Not officially. But people listen to Blood Creed just as much as they listen to the Graves. Maybe more. And the ones who aren¡¯t part of the family? They swear loyalty like they are. The priests, the enforcers, the followers, they all treat it like the one thing keeping them safe."


    Vell folded her arms, glancing at the imposing structure. ¡°The ones you see walking through the Fog in human form, calling it a pilgrimage, those are the Fog Walkers. But this place? That¡¯s the Blood Creed. Different belief.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    She nodded toward the building. ¡°They see the Pink Fog as divine, yes, but to them, transformation is proof. Glint forms are a gift from whatever they worship. If you can survive the change, you¡¯re one of the chosen. They say anyone can join, but not everyone can rise. You have to prove yourself first. For a lot of people, Blood Creed gives them something to believe in. A purpose.¡±


    Bob tilted his head. ¡°Wait, so if I walk in there right now, they¡¯d roll out a fancy carpet for me?¡±


    Gale smirked. "With your Glint? Probably. They¡¯d be singing your praises before you made it past the first row of pews."


    Bob shrugged. "Huh. I do like free praise."


    Gabe rolled his eyes. "We are not getting involved with a cult."


    Vell nodded. "Good. Because even if you wanted in, they don¡¯t just let anyone near their high priests. You have to earn it, and let¡¯s just say their trials aren¡¯t exactly friendly."


    Bob frowned, glancing back at the cathedral. ¡°Sounds hard enough to get in¡­ but what if someone wants out?¡±


    Gale exhaled through his nose, hesitating. "A lot of people are leaving now. The Fog Walkers are pulling them in, and Blood Creed isn¡¯t just going to let that slide. Losing followers means losing control. They won¡¯t sit back and watch their influence crumble."


    Bob blinked. "That¡¯s a fun way of saying ¡®they kill you.¡¯"


    Vell sighed. "Not always. Some people disappear quietly, no one asks, no one answers. Others just stop showing up, and the next thing you know, they¡¯re gone from the city entirely. Then there are the ones who make it out¡­ but they don¡¯t talk about it. Whatever they saw, whatever they did to leave, it¡¯s like it¡¯s not worth speaking of."


    A heavy silence followed before Vell added, "Blood Creed kept things stable after the meteor fall. No matter what people say, they gave survivors something to cling to. Some of them truly believe in what they preach. Others? Well¡­ they just believe in keeping power."


    Bob looked at the towering structure one last time before shaking his head. "Sounds like a headache. C¡¯mon, let¡¯s keep moving."


    As they turned down the next street, the cathedral¡¯s bell rang, its deep, hollow chime echoing across the city. The sound was heavy, solemn. And something about it felt like a warning.


    The grand cathedral of Blood Creed was alive with the murmurs of priests, enforcers, and devoted followers. Inside, the air was thick with incense, the flickering light of braziers casting long shadows against the stained-glass windows. At the center of it all, standing before the altar, was High Priest Ezekiel.


    His voice boomed through the cathedral. "Faithfuls. I see it in your eyes! I hear it in your whispers! Our city has forgotten the truth!" He glared across the assembly, his sharp features contorted in frustration.


    "The Fog Walkers spread their lies, and the weak-hearted follow! They promise ascension without transformation. They speak of safety in the mist! But I ask you, brothers and sisters, when has the fog ever been merciful? When has it not taken from us?"


    Some murmured in agreement, others looked uncertain. Since the meteor fall, Blood Creed had risen as the foundation of faith in the city, guiding those who had lost everything. But now? People were leaving. Some abandoned their teachings for the Fog Walkers.


    From the shadows, Father Gregor Graves stood with his arms crossed, watching the High Priest''s sermon. Unlike Ezekiel, Gregor did not raise his voice. He did not need to. He knew what was truly at stake. The Graves Family relied on Blood Creed to keep control over the people. If the cult lost its grip, the power structure within the city would shift. And that was something neither the priests nor the city¡¯s elite could afford.


    After delivering his sermon, Ezekiel retreated to the upper balcony of the cathedral, his mind troubled. The second pilgrimage had already left, vanishing into the fog hours ago. His words had done little to restore confidence. He knew more would follow, more of his own people slipping through his grasp. The thought made his stomach churn.


    He leaned against the railing, staring at the grand hall below, where his priests whispered among themselves, their faith cracking under the weight of uncertainty. He clenched his jaw. This was not how it was meant to be. Blood Creed had been the foundation of belief, the pillar that kept people from falling into despair. And yet, despite their teachings, despite their power, the Fog Walkers continued to grow.


    He shut his eyes, his thoughts racing. Somewhere out there, his own son had become part of that infection. The whispers had reached him weeks ago, but he had refused to believe. Jonah had been lost to the fog, he had convinced himself of that. But now? Now he wasn¡¯t so sure.


    If Jonah, his son, truly stood among them, if he had become a leader of that heresy, then Ezekiel would have to face him. And when that moment came, there would be no room for mercy.


    -----


    In the bustling market district, confusion and fear rippled through the people. It had started as whispers that morning, but now, as merchants and traders gathered in tight clusters, the rumor had become real.


    Liam was gone.


    A well-known food vendor, a man who had worked the same stall since the meteor fall, had joined the first pilgrimage. He had walked into the fog with the others, believing in whatever truth they sought. But unlike some of the others, he never came back. His stall remained empty, his absence now undeniable. And he was not the first.


    "He wasn¡¯t one of them," a woman muttered, gripping her apron. "He wasn¡¯t even that religious! Why would he go with them?"


    A man beside her shook his head. "He had a family. A business. He wasn¡¯t desperate like the others. Why would he just walk into the fog?"


    A younger vendor swallowed hard. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s really going on inside the Fog Walkers. Maybe Liam chose to stay. Maybe he joined them for good.¡± He hesitated, glancing around. ¡°Whatever the reason¡­ he¡¯s one of them now.¡±


    No one answered. Because the truth was, no one knew.


    -----


    The second pilgrimage had begun its return.


    Word spread quickly through the city. People gathered in clusters along the streets, watching as the group that had vanished into the fog now emerged from it once more. Their walk was eerily similar to before, silent, disciplined, almost ritualistic.


    Elise stood at the edge of the crowd, searching for her brother among the returning figures. Her fingers dug into her sleeves, her heartbeat steady but anxious.


    Then she saw him.


    But he didn¡¯t stop.


    Didn¡¯t look her way.


    Didn¡¯t recognize her at all.


    Her breath caught in her throat.


    Others scanned the crowd too, quietly noting the few who didn¡¯t return, family members, neighbors, friends. Most had made it back. But some were still missing.


    The murmurs started. Then the questions. Then the fear.


    A mother pushed to the front, his voice sharp with panic. "Where¡¯s my son?!" His words cut through the air, but the pilgrims didn¡¯t even look at him.


    Not one of them spoke.


    The market crowd shifted uneasily. The air was thick with unease, heavier than it had been before. The people who had returned looked¡­ wrong. Their skin was pale, their eyes unfocused, their movements too precise, too synchronized. Like puppets following unseen strings.


    The fear turned into something sharper. Suspicion.


    Then, for the first time since their return, one of the pilgrims reacted.


    A woman near the front of the group turned her head ever so slightly. Her lips barely moved as she whispered a single phrase.


    "Those who did not return were not true believers. The fog welcomed us because we trusted it, we did not resist. We all saw the same Fades, but we remained, and so we were spared. Those who ran¡­ they were claimed."


    Then, just as quickly, she looked forward again, resuming her silent march deeper into the city.


    The crowd remained frozen, staring at the retreating pilgrims. No one dared to follow.


    The silence lingered long after they were gone.

 Chapter 28: The Descent

    Dante stood hidden atop a shadowed balcony overlooking the market square, watching the unfolding scene with narrowed eyes. His attention wasn¡¯t on the eerie procession of the Fog Walkers or the growing murmurs of unease from the market crowd. It was on Bob¡¯s crew.


    More specifically, it was on Iris standing beside him.


    She wasn¡¯t just watching the returning pilgrims, she was talking to Bob, standing close to him like they had been through hell together. And maybe they had, but that wasn¡¯t the point. Dante had known Iris before everything fell apart. Before the fog, before the chaos, before she vanished from the world he knew. And now here she was, next to Bob, trusting him like he was someone important.


    Dante clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly. He wouldn¡¯t say it out loud, but it annoyed him more than he wanted to admit.


    Then he saw it, that shift in Bob¡¯s posture, the way his eyes followed the Fog Walkers, studying them like he was already coming up with something stupid. Dante could barely hear them from this distance. He was planning something.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking something dumb, aren¡¯t you?¡± Gabe muttered beside him, arms crossed.


    Bob grinned. ¡°Oh, yeah.¡±


    Iris groaned. ¡°Bob, don¡¯t say it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna join them.¡±


    Sly slapped a hand over his face. ¡°For the love of¡ªBob, no.¡±


    Bob raised a hand. ¡°Hear me out. If I go with them, I can find out what¡¯s happening firsthand. We¡¯ve all been asking what¡¯s going on inside the Fog Walkers, right? How they¡¯re walking through the Pink Fog in human form without getting torn apart? It doesn¡¯t make sense. Why aren¡¯t the Fades attacking them? Maybe they really believe in something, or maybe there¡¯s something else going on. Either way, let¡¯s just ask them.¡±


    Iris crossed her arms. ¡°You think they¡¯ll just tell you?¡±


    Bob shrugged. ¡°Eventually.¡±


    Gabe sighed. ¡°You mean after they try to brainwash you, sacrifice you, or whatever else cults do?¡±


    Sly jabbed a finger at Bob¡¯s chest. ¡°How about, and just stay with me here, we don¡¯t let them take you?¡±


    Bob smirked. ¡°That¡¯s the thing, Sly. I let them take me.¡±


    There was a brief, stunned silence before Iris pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°This is the worst plan I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±


    Bob spread his arms. ¡°But is it?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± she, Gabe, and Sly said in unison.


    Iris sighed but then frowned. "And there''s a problem. The moment you step into the Pink Fog, you¡¯ll turn into Goliath instantly. You can¡¯t walk with them during the pilgrimage."


    Bob blinked, then grinned. "Then I¡¯ll just stay human in the fog."


    Gabe raised an eyebrow. "You don¡¯t say??"


    Bob nodded confidently. "Yeah, I¡¯ve mastered it. I can shift between human and Glint form whenever I want in the fog."


    Everyone stared at him, surprised.


    Sly narrowed his eyes. "And you just conveniently forgot to mention that?"


    Bob shrugged. "Didn¡¯t think it was important."


    Iris looked like she wanted to hit him. Dante, still watching from his balcony, couldn¡¯t catch everything they were saying, but from the way the others reacted, he knew something had landed. Maybe he misheard. Maybe it was nonsense. But one thing was clear¡­ Bob intended to join the pilgrimage. And that made no sense at all.


    Bob, undeterred, turned back to the Fog Walkers as the last of them disappeared into the streets. ¡°Alright, so how do I get in?¡±


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    Dante exhaled slowly, shaking his head. This guy was actually serious.


    Then, a thought occurred to him. If Bob went, he would come back with some ridiculous victory. People would talk. Iris would talk. And Dante couldn¡¯t let that happen, not without making sure his name was part of the story too.


    Dante clenched his fists. If Bob could do it, so could he.


    Before he even thought it through, his feet were already moving. He stepped forward, smirking slightly to himself.


    ¡°If he can do it, I can do it better.¡±


    The streets of Graves Safe Zone were filled with murmurs of uncertainty as more people gathered near the outskirts of the city. The events of the last pilgrimage still weighed heavily on the minds of those watching from the safety of their homes. Yet, despite the eerie return of the previous group, the number of those willing to follow the Fog Walkers had only grown.


    Among them stood Harren, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the growing assembly. His son, Marek, stood a few feet away, his gaze locked onto the hooded figures preparing to lead the next pilgrimage. There was a tension between them, one neither of them dared to speak aloud.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this,¡± Harren muttered, breaking the silence.


    Marek didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°You don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Harren¡¯s fingers twitched, but he didn¡¯t reach out. "She walked away from us. She didn¡¯t even look back."


    Marek¡¯s throat tightened. "Then I¡¯ll make her look back."


    Harren¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°That thing isn¡¯t your mother. She hasn¡¯t even looked at us since she returned. She doesn¡¯t speak. She doesn¡¯t recognize us.¡±


    Marek shook his head, gripping his arms tightly. ¡°What if she does? What if she just needs help? What if she¡¯s still in there?¡±


    Harren stayed silent. He didn¡¯t want to acknowledge the possibility. It was easier to believe she was lost than to accept the shell of a person she had become.


    Marek took a deep breath. ¡°She¡¯s right there. I¡¯m bringing her back, no matter what.¡±


    That was the real reason he was joining the next pilgrimage. It wasn¡¯t about faith. It was about her. He was going to bring his mother home.


    Without waiting for a response, he turned, stepping forward into the sea of believers, swallowed by the movement of the crowd.


    Before Harren could say anything else, the distant chime of a bell echoed across the district, this one came from a smaller temple, repurposed by the Fog Walkers. It was their signal, their final call for those who wished to walk into the mist. The crowd stirred, some stepped forward eagerly, others paused in a final moment of doubt.


    -----


    The final pilgrimage was the largest yet. Hundreds now stood in formation, waiting for their march to begin.


    Elise stood at the edge of the crowd, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. Somewhere in that mass of people was her brother. She scanned the faces, trying to spot him, but they all blended together, the same empty expressions, the same unwavering stares forward. It was the same look Marek¡¯s mother had when she returned. Just like the others, she had come back, but she wasn¡¯t the same. She didn¡¯t remember them, didn¡¯t acknowledge her past life, only the teachings of the Fog Walkers. Elise knew that if her brother returned, he wouldn¡¯t be the same either. And that terrified her.


    Bob, standing nearby, watched the crowd with a different kind of focus. ¡°It¡¯s bigger than last time,¡± he muttered.


    Gabe nodded. ¡°And we still don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening to them.¡±


    Sly glanced between Bob and the crowd. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡±


    Bob smirked. ¡°Simple. We walk in.¡±


    Dante, hidden on a rooftop overlooking the procession, crossed his arms as he observed Bob and his crew. He already knew what Bob was thinking. He could see it in the way he studied the movement of the Fog Walkers, how he mirrored their pace, how he was waiting for the right moment to slip into formation. Dante exhaled sharply. Unlike Bob, he couldn¡¯t just walk in. The moment he stepped into the fog, he would transform, just like Iris and the others.


    Instead, he would do what they were doing, follow from a distance.


    The Graves Family had already backed this operation. The Fog Walkers were a threat not only to Blood Creed but to their authority as well. Dante had gathered a group of his elite guards, all stationed outside the safe zone, they were waiting to activate their Glint forms. If something happened later, they would be ready.


    Then the march began.


    Bob took a deep breath as he stepped into the fog. Almost immediately, his body reacted, the familiar surge of power coiling in his muscles, his frame beginning to expand. His vision sharpened, his skin tingled, and the transformation into his Glint form started to take hold.


    From his hidden vantage point, Gabe tensed. "Damn it, Bob, hold it back!" he hissed under his breath.


    Bob clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay calm. His transformation surged forward, his body growing larger, but then¡­ he pulled it back. The change that had started to take hold receded, his muscles shrinking back to normal, his form stabilizing just before anyone in the pilgrimage noticed.


    His crew, watching from the shadows, stared in stunned silence. Hearing Bob claim he could control his transformation had been one thing. Seeing it with their own eyes was another.


    Gabe exhaled slowly. "No way¡­ he actually did it."


    Sly muttered a curse. "Since when can he pull something like that off?"


    Even Iris, who rarely let surprise show on her face, had a moment of hesitation. "I thought he was just bluffing."


    From his rooftop perch, Dante frowned. He couldn''t hear what they were saying, but something had changed. For a moment, he thought he saw Bob¡¯s frame shift unnaturally before settling back to normal. His eyes narrowed.


    He can control his transformation in the Fog? The thought hit hard. That wasn¡¯t supposed to be possible.


    Maybe he¡¯d misjudged him. Or maybe Bob was just far more dangerous than he looked.


    The Fog Walkers led the crowd forward, their hooded figures moving like ghosts through the mist, guiding the believers toward the edge of the old world city, now swallowed by the Pink Fog.


    Bob alone blended in, slipping into the mass of followers, his presence unnoticed in the sea of eager faith. The rest of his crew stayed behind, hidden. Gabe, Sly, and Iris followed from a distance, careful not to be seen. They couldn¡¯t risk stepping into the fog themselves, not when Iris and Gabe would turn into their Glint forms after an hour of exposure. Sly would follow shortly after. If they got too close, they wouldn¡¯t be able to remain hidden for long.


    The deeper they walked, the thicker the Pink Fog became. The subway entrance loomed ahead, its tunnels stretching into darkness, swallowed by the mist.


    Bob felt his skin crawl, but he kept his expression neutral. No one else reacted. No hesitation, no fear, only unwavering devotion.


    Is this the secret? he wondered. Are they about to reveal why they can walk in the Fog unharmed?


    He soon realized they were not alone.


    Figures emerged in the fog, humanoid creatures covered in chitinous plating, their elongated limbs twitching beneath tattered robes. Their multifaceted eyes gleamed faintly, mandibles clicking softly as they observed the passing believers. Fades. Bob barely noticed them at first, there were only a few, standing at a distance, blending into the fog like shadows. They did not move to attack, only watching, unmoving, as long as the pilgrims stayed in formation.


    Then Bob saw more. Many more.


    The deeper they descended into the subway, the clearer it became. The fades all looked alike. Too alike. A single race.


    And when Bob finally laid eyes on the towering figure at the center of it all, a realization struck him like a hammer.


    This wasn¡¯t just a gathering.


    This was a boss lair.


    A sharp, clicking sound echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the walls like a signal. The creatures around them froze, their heads tilting in eerie unison.


    And then, from the darkness, she emerged, larger than the rest, armored in thick chitin, her massive, multifaceted eyes gleaming with intelligence and hunger.


    Bob exhaled sharply as realization hit him.


    This was her nest.


    The Hive Queen had been waiting.


    The secret has been revealed, Bob thought.

 Chapter 29: Chased by the Queen

    The Hive Queen emerged from the depths of the subway station, her towering form shifting through the mist like a specter of death. Bob had seen plenty of horrifying creatures in the Pink Fog, but this was something else entirely.


    She was massive¡ªeasily twice his height, her elongated body reinforced with layers of thick, chitinous plating. The bioluminescent sacs along her spine pulsed in rhythm with her movements, casting an eerie glow over her grotesque figure. Multiple limbs twitched at her sides, the larger ones lined with serrated claws, while the smaller, more delicate ones weaved and curled, as if conducting the air itself.


    Her face was the worst part, a twisted fusion of humanoid and insect, her mandibles clicking with an unsettling rhythm as thick, resin-like saliva dripped from her maw. Multiple black, multi-faceted eyes shifted in different directions, scanning the gathered pilgrims, observing them with a cruel intelligence.


    Then, she shrieked.


    The walls trembled at the sound, the resonance sending vibrations through Bob¡¯s chest. It wasn¡¯t just a scream¡­ it was a command. The moment it rang out, the insect-like Fades that had been watching from the shadows suddenly moved.


    The first victim barely had time to react.


    A pilgrim at the front let out a short, startled gasp before something yanked him into the darkness. No one even turned. The march continued.


    Then another disappeared.


    A woman this time. A clawed limb lashed out from above, hooking into her shoulder and lifting her clean off the ground. A single, wet snap echoed through the chamber, and her limp body vanished into the tunnel ceiling.


    Bob had no time to react. The attacks were fast, surgical. The woman had been at the front of the line, far ahead. All he could do was watch her vanish into the dark.


    He scanned the walls, then the ceiling. Shadows danced across the tunnel edges, movement without form. Nothing came for him. Not yet.


    The Fog Walkers didn¡¯t panic. No screaming. No running. Just blind, unwavering devotion.


    And as her minions dragged pilgrims into the shadows one by one, Glint transformations began¡­ but only for some. Triggered by long exposure to the Pink Fog¡­ or something worse.


    Someone collapsed just a few feet from Bob.


    The man hit the ground hard, convulsing, his veins darkening. Muscles bulged, skin hardened, and bone shifted beneath the surface. It was his Glint transformation, but it didn¡¯t stop there.


    Within seconds, the change twisted beyond its limit. His Glint form distorted, veins blackening further, skin cracking under surging pressure. His eyes glazed over, the glow turning hollow.


    He was turning into a Fade. Fast.


    Bob lunged without thinking, grabbing the man before the full shift could take hold. The pilgrim''s body jerked in his grip, arms elongating, skin cracking as waxy chitin pushed through.


    ¡°Fight it!¡± Bob shouted, gritting his teeth.


    But the man didn¡¯t resist. He turned his head slowly, smiling with hollow eyes.¡°I was chosen,¡± he rasped.


    Then the last trace of humanity vanished from his face. His body twisted violently as he slipped free from Bob¡¯s grip, limbs bending at unnatural angles. In seconds, he was gone, swallowed by the mist, now a full Fade.


    He struck from the dark.


    Bob barely dodged as the creature¡¯s claws ripped through the resin-coated ground, carving deep into the floor. He let go immediately, stepping back.


    And then he looked around.


    More were convulsing. Glint forms twisting too far. One by one, they crossed the threshold, losing themselves and becoming Fades. The transformation was spreading. Fast.


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    That was enough for him.


    He turned, already moving. As he did, his body surged with power, the Goliath Glint he had been suppressing since the start of the pilgrimage finally roaring to life. His muscles expanded, his skin hardened, and his towering frame returned in full as he shed his human disguise.


    A deafening screech split the air as the Hive Queen reacted to the disruption.


    -----


    Gale ran, his breath heavy as he pushed through the mist. He had followed Bob¡¯s crew, staying just far enough behind to remain unseen. But when Bob transformed, when the screams started, he knew he had to act.


    He turned and sprinted up the subway entrance, bursting out from the underground and into the haze of the Pink Fog. Vell was there with the Orphans, along with several of Dante¡¯s elite guards, all waiting near the entrance.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad!¡± he gasped. ¡°There¡¯s a Boss down there¡­ huge one. The pilgrims are being slaughtered or turning into Fades. And Bob¡­ he went Glint and started fighting them!¡±


    Vell¡¯s eyes widened, but she didn¡¯t hesitate. "We¡¯re going in. Now."


    Dante¡¯s elite guards overheard. One of them stepped forward. "Lord Dante followed the pilgrimage. If the situation has collapsed, he could be in danger."


    Another guard nodded sharply. "We need to extract him."


    Vell turned toward them, gripping her weapon. "Then we work together. We go in, get as many out as we can, and if we have to fight our way out, so be it."


    One of the elite guards straightened. "We can''t wait any longer. Move in! Extract Lord Dante and get everyone we can!"


    With that, the orphans and elite guards surged forward, their Glint forms igniting as they stormed into the fog.


    -----


    Deep inside the underground metro, chaos had fully erupted.


    Iris, Gabe, and Sly didn¡¯t hesitate. The moment Bob transformed, they were already in motion, breaking cover and rushing in after him.


    ¡°The Fades are attacking people!¡± Iris shouted, weaving through the chaos toward Bob¡¯s position.


    ¡°So that whole ¡®Fog Walkers don¡¯t get attacked¡¯ thing was a lie?¡± Sly called out as he ran beside her.


    ¡°It was true¡­ at first,¡± Gabe replied, flying just above them. ¡°That was the bait¡­ to lure more people in.¡±


    ¡°The first two pilgrims were a setup,¡± he added grimly. ¡°This is the real event.¡±


    Sly narrowed his eyes. ¡°Event?¡±


    ¡°The harvesting,¡± Gabe said, as more victims were dragged into the shadows or twisted mid-transformation into Fades.


    Behind them, Dante followed silently. He had heard every word but made no move to fight or protect the panicked survivors scrambling to escape the onslaught.


    Panic erupted in the depths of the underground chamber.


    Those who had only recently joined the pilgrimage, still thinking for themselves, finally saw the truth and began to run. Fear overtook them as the Fades descended.


    But others remained still. The ones with dull, lifeless eyes, completely under the Hive¡¯s control, didn¡¯t react at all. Even as they were dragged into the shadows one by one, they didn¡¯t scream. Didn¡¯t fight. Just accepted it.


    Bob tore through the growing swarm of insect-like Fades, using his size and strength to carve a path. He grabbed any surviving pilgrim he could reach, shoving them toward the exit.


    "MOVE!" he bellowed, knocking one of the creatures aside.


    Elise¡¯s brother was among those still human but with lifeless eye. He stumbled forward, dazed but alive.


    Bob grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along. "Not today, kid."


    The Hive Queen let out another ear-splitting screech. The walls trembled as more creatures poured from the tunnels, swarming the area. And then, the Queen herself began to move.


    A sharp, unnatural buzz rippled through the swarm as the insect-like Fades responded in unison, their wings vibrating with anticipation.


    That was when Bob saw them.


    Iris, Sly, and Gabe were the first to reach him, cutting down Fades as they closed in. Gabe swooped overhead, his wings stirring the mist, while Iris¡¯s blade carved through the swarm. Sly blinked between enemies, striking fast and vanishing just as quickly.


    Farther back, near the subway entrance, Bob spotted Vell and Gale leading the Orphans into the chaos.


    Dante¡¯s elite guards followed close behind, weapons drawn. And from another tunnel, Graves Security forces and Blood Creed fighters surged in, opening fire and hacking through the encroaching Fades.


    "We¡¯re getting them out!" Vell shouted.


    Bob smirked. "Took you long enough."


    Dante emerged next, his Blood Revenant form activated as he ripped through one of the insect-like creatures. His eyes locked onto Bob, irritation flashing behind them. "You¡¯re lucky we didn¡¯t leave you here."


    Bob grinned, slamming a half-transformed Fade into the nearest wall. ¡°Well, look who showed up. Did you get tired of hiding?¡±


    The fight was chaos, but the mission was clear. Get as many people out as possible.


    Some were too far gone. Some were already lost. But for the rest, there was still a chance.


    They fought, they pulled, they rescued who they could, but the swarm kept coming. The ground rumbled beneath them as the Hive Queen''s screech reverberated through the tunnels, shaking loose debris from the cracked ceiling. Bob could feel it, a deep, guttural tremor that signaled something far worse was coming.


    Then the ground split apart behind them.


    A deafening, bone-rattling boom echoed through the tunnels as part of the subway entrance buckled under the pressure. Chunks of concrete and rusted metal broke loose, spraying across the corridor like shrapnel.


    The Hive Queen¡¯s massive form surged through the wreckage, her armored body tearing through support beams like paper. Her limbs stabbed into the walls for balance, mandibles clicking wildly, glowing sacs pulsing with frenzied light.


    Fades poured past her, flooding out of the tunnels like an unstoppable wave.


    Bob didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°RUN!¡±