Casual stroll

As the dust settles and the last remnants of the monsters lay still, the group that burst in gathers themselves, urgency clear in their movements. The red-haired woman with the machete, seems to be the de facto leader. Her eyes are sharp, scanning the room before locking on me with a hunter's appraisal.

The girl with the weird hair pattern, a silent figure draped in shadows, stands just behind Jenna, her gaze fixed on some distant point, lost in thought or maybe she's scared. 

The man, the third member of their trio, is a stark contrast to the quiet girl. His stance is alert, his eyes darting around, taking in the room, the carnage, and us, with a critical eye. He's the kind of guy who seems ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

The redhead wastes no time. "We need to find Caelum," she states, her voice tinged with urgency. "He's... vital to us." Her glance at me is brief, as if assessing whether I'm a threat or an ally, but she doesn't linger.

The man nods, a silent agreement to her plan. "We can't waste time here," he adds, his tone suggesting he's used to situations like this.

They start to move out, but she pauses, her gaze returning to me. "You, hunter," she addresses me, her expression guarded. "I need to go to the vault of virtues. My artifact is there, please lead the way, I don't know where it is since everything's a mess outside." There's a determination in her voice that speaks of her own formidable nature.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "And why would I help you?" I ask, half-challenging, half-curious.

Her response is swift and to the point. "Because I can handle myself, and you look like you could use someone who can do the same." Her gaze doesn't waver, a clear challenge set.

I consider her proposal for a moment. Teaming up wasn't part of my plan, but then again, plans change, especially in a world turned upside down like this. "Alright," I reply with a shrug. "But we do this my way."

Jenna's gaze lingers on me, a question etched into her piercing eyes. "My name is Jenna. He is Draken and she is Dolura. Before we start moving, what is your rank?" she asks, a subtle challenge in her tone.

I can't help but smirk, the corner of my mouth lifting in amusement. "Oh, so we're comparing pedigrees now, are we?" I muse internally, my fingers absently spinning my toothpick. I haven't seen her face among the high ranks, and I'm curious how she'll react to my own standing. "I'm a special rank," I declare with a cocky tilt of my head. "They call me a Dual Artifact Hunter, because of these beauties." I tap the side of my glasses, the light catching on them just right.

Jenna's expression doesn't falter as she nods, a hint of respect—or is it understanding?—flashing across her features. "I'm a high-rank, upper catalog platinum hunter with 17 special merits," she says, and to my utter shock, she produces a hunter's necklace, the symbol of her rank glinting against the dim light.

For a moment, I'm speechless, nearly choking on my own breath. "Are you serious?" The words escape before I can reel them back. There are 19 ranks in our system, and she's the fourth from the top, while I'm loitering at ninth. My mind races, trying to piece together why someone as high-ranking as her would ever be without her artifact. Hunters of her caliber don't just walk into a city like this; it's tantamount to stripping a general of their army, making them a prime target for anyone with a grudge and a blade.

She seems to catch the flicker of astonishment in my eyes, and with a pat on my shoulder that's more comradely than condescending, she reassures me. "Don't think about it too hard," Jenna advises, her voice firm. "I need to get my artifact as soon as possible."

I nod, pushing down the twinge of my pride that's taken a hit. "Right, let's not waste any more time then," I say, trying to recover my composure. It's not every day you meet a platinum hunter, let alone one that asks for your help.

We set out, my steps a bit more purposeful now. I'm not just leading another survivor; I'm assisting one of the best. It changes things, knowing I'm not the most lethal force in the room for once. It's humbling and, if I'm honest with myself, a tad exhilarating.

As we navigate the ruined streets back to the Vault of Virtues, I can't shake the feeling that today's hunt has just become far more interesting. With Jenna by my side, who knows what we'll face—and more importantly, who knows what we'll achieve?

I can't help but let out a low whistle, a sound that's part admiration, part disbelief. "Platinum hunter, huh? This apocalypse just got a whole lot more intriguing."

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

-16 hours ago.

Walking alongside Jenna, Draken, and Dolura, I can't help but notice the eerie quiet that blankets the streets. It's like the world is holding its breath, waiting for something to break the silence. Hmmm... It's a bit weird, not a single monster at this time? My gaze sweeping the dark, desolate surroundings.

We turn into the next street, a path that looks like it's seen better days, with debris and remnants of a life once lived strewn about. Jenna's voice cuts through the silence. "We should be careful here. There are traces of monsters passing through here."

Draken, ever the observant one, raises an eyebrow. "You can tell by just looking? Damn, you're incredible." There's a hint of genuine admiration in his tone, something that makes me roll my eyes internally.

As we continue down the street, I notice Jenna, Draken, and even Dolura stifling yawns. Hmmm... Are you telling me they're already tired? It seems almost too convenient. I can't help but think there's more to it than just fatigue. Maybe it's a ploy, or maybe they're genuinely exhausted. Either way, it works in my favor.

"Heh," I chuckle under my breath, a plan forming in my mind. "Hey, let's go in there and rest." I point at a building that looks the least destroyed, its structure still somewhat intact amidst the chaos.

As we make our way into the building, the shadows grow deeper, the darkness almost tangible. I can sense the weariness in the group, their steps growing heavier with each passing moment. It's perfect.

Yawning widely, I make a show of my supposed fatigue. I have to pretend to be just as tired as them. I think to myself, casting a wary glance at Dolura. Or this girl will be on my case non-stop. Damn parasite.

Jenna, taking a deep breath, asserts herself. "You all can rest. I'll keep watch, and we'll switch shifts in three hours." Her voice carries a tone of command, a natural leader in this chaotic world.

Draken, with a heavy yawn, agrees. "Sure thing. I need my beauty sleep, or my muscles will disappear," he jokes, although his math seems a bit off.

I turn to Dolura, making sure my eyes are half-lidded, feigning exhaustion. "Can you not sleep on my shoulder?" I ask, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. She blinks with that blank expression she always has and shifts her sleeping position without a word. Good, now I just need to pretend to be asleep for a couple of hours. I settle down in a comfortable position.

As I sit there, feigning sleep, my ears pick up on Jenna's murmuring. She's talking to herself, a strange habit in these dire times. But what she's saying is even stranger. She's discussing toys, of all things.

"...and then there's the limited edition action figure I saw last year. I wish I had bought it," she whispers to herself. Her voice holds a mix of regret and fondness—a bizarre topic given our current situation.

I can't help but crack a slight smile, hidden in the shadow of my feigned slumber. Toys? Really? In the middle of an apocalypse?

-

Yawning widely, I force myself into a state of fake wakefulness. It's been two hours. By now, Dolura and Draken should be deep in slumber. "Thought traveling with them would make them useful, but not a single monster attacked," I grumble internally, tired of their constant chatter and presence.

I glance over at Jenna, who's sitting with her back against the wall, her eyes half-closed, struggling to stay awake. "Go to sleep," I say to her, my voice low and firm.

She shakes her head slightly, her voice tinged with stubborn fatigue. "No, there's still one more hour..." she insists weakly.

I sigh, a little louder this time. "You look tired, you should sleep," I press on, hoping she'll just give in.

Jenna yawns, her resistance fading. "M-maybe I should sleep," she murmurs, finally closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

I wait silently, watching the rise and fall of her chest, counting the minutes. After what feels like an eternity, her breathing deepens into the steady rhythm of sleep. "Tsk, took her long enough," I mutter to myself. "Why did she stay awake for two extra hours? Did she think I wouldn't notice?"

Just as I'm about to make my move, I freeze. "Wait a minute, I'm not falling for it twice." My gaze drifts down to where Dolura is supposedly sleeping. And there it is—the slight glimmer of a string attached to my shoe. "How did she tie it without me noticing?" I wonder, a mix of annoyance and admiration in my thoughts.

With a quick flick of my hand, I cut the string. "Heh, whatever, now I'm free," I think, a smirk crossing my lips. "I'll leave these idiots. They've become completely useless to me now."

I rise quietly, careful not to make a sound. My time with them was brief, but it's clear they're more of a hindrance than a help. As I step towards the exit, I can't help but feel a sense of liberation. "Time to go solo again," I think, relishing the thought of being on my own, without the constant noise and neediness of companions.

Slipping my headphones over my ears, I flick through my playlist until I find something fitting for a solitary walk through a post-apocalyptic world. The battery icon flashes a warning at me—only 30% left. "I need to find a solar-powered charger," I mutter to myself. Even in the midst of chaos, some things never change—like my phone always being on the brink of dying.

As the first notes of music fill my ears, I can't help but feel a sense of relief. It's nice, this solitude. Not a single monster in sight. "Ha, they must all be deep in the city, brawling with the remaining soldiers," I think, a smirk playing on my lips.

I start humming along to the beat, a simple melody that seems oddly cheerful given the desolation around me. "Hmm hmm hmm... It feels good to be alone~ To walk away~" The lyrics resonate with me, a fitting anthem for my newfound freedom.

As I stride through the empty streets, the music is a barrier between me and the world, a personal bubble of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic existence. "I can't wait to leave this city," I muse. "Sure, I have a long way to go before I reach a mountain, but I'd rather walk a long road than navigate a complicated city."

The rhythm of the song syncs with my steps, creating a cadence that propels me forward. It's therapeutic, almost, this sense of moving towards something, even if it's just away from everything else.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In the desolate, monster-riddled streets, a lone figure moves with an air of confidence and nonchalance, oblivious to the peculiar scene unfolding around him. Caelum, with headphones firmly over his ears, strides through the urban wasteland, a bubble of music isolating him from the eerie symphony of the apocalypse. Unbeknownst to him, he's become the center of a bizarre and terrifying dance.

Around him, the monsters of the city, usually fearsome and relentless in their pursuit of prey, are engaged in a very different kind of activity. They skitter and scramble, not towards him, but away, their movements frantic and hushed. It's a scene straight out of a horror, where the terrifying creatures of the night are reduced to actors in a silent farce, desperately trying not to draw the attention of the one human they all seem to fear.

One creature, a grotesque amalgamation of shadow and teeth, finds itself inadvertently shoved into Caelum's path by its equally terrified peers. In a moment of panic, it contorts its body in a desperate attempt to mimic an inanimate object, its limbs folding awkwardly to resemble a twisted, nightmarish sculpture. Its eyes, wide with primal fear, fixate on Caelum, praying to whatever dark deities it worships that he continues his blissfully ignorant march.

Caelum, humming to the rhythm of his music, remains completely oblivious of horrors playing out around him. To any onlooker, the scene would appear surreal—a man walking through a parade of monstrosities, each one frozen in place, holding their breaths, hoping not to catch his eye.

The creature in front of him, trying its hardest to blend in with the urban decay, resembles a bizarre statue more than a living being. Its eyes follow Caelum's every move, and as he steps past, the monster lets out a silent sigh of relief, a sound lost in the cacophony of its own racing heart.

As Caelum moves on, the other monsters slowly begin to resume their natural behavior, though with a newfound wariness. They watch him with a mix of awe and terror, a predator among predators, a king in a land of nightmares.