The sky was darkening fast. Within the hour, night would fall—blanketing the world in shadow.
Leo Carter stood among a restless crowd, craning his neck like everyone else, eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
From deep within the wilderness, the howls of beasts echoed—low, guttural, and far too close for comfort.
If the hunting team didn't return before the sun fully set, they would be trapped outside the hold, swallowed by the darkness—and the beasts that lurked within it.
Suddenly, Leo felt a tight grip on his arm. He glanced down and saw Helen, his mother, her face pale and her hand trembling with worry.
"Mom, don't worry," Leo said softly, trying to keep his voice calm. "Dad and the others... they'll be back soon."
Helen gave a stiff nod and turned her gaze back to the distance, her knuckles white against his arm.
Leo scanned the people around them—over a hundred men and women, all wearing the same mask of fear and desperation.
He sighed inwardly. It had only been two days since he'd woken up in this body—two days since he'd dozed off on a subway ride and opened his eyes in this brutal, unfamiliar world.
This world looked a lot like his old one—until ten years ago, when everything changed.
The beasts transformed first. Birds, wolves, even trees and grass mutated—growing larger, more vicious, more bloodthirsty. Nature itself had turned hostile.
Some people awakened powers—lightning at their fingertips, fire bursting from their hands, and the power to break the space. The strongest among them were walking disasters, capable of flattening cities with a single blow.
These "awakened" became the new elite, and wherever they settled, cities began to rise again. Word had it that some of the larger cities had working electricity, clean water, internet, even public transport. People there lived like it was still the old world—commuting by subway, clocking in and out of nine-to-five jobs.
But most people? Most people didn't even get the chance to enter those cities.
Resources were scarce. The unawakened—the majority—had no place in those safe zones. They were left to fend for themselves in makeshift strongholds like this one. No power. No protection. And often, no food.
They survived behind walls, surrounded by beasts, scrounging what they could.
Leo's original body's previous owner had died just days ago—starved, sick, and desperate, he had snuck out to eat some unknown fruit in the wild. It killed him after three days of fever. That was when Leo woke up in his place.
"Could it be… something really did happen out there?" Leo clenched his fists.
Just then, a voice rang out from the top of the seven-meter watchtower nearby. "They're back! I see them coming!"
"Really?!"
"Where? I don't see anything!"
"Give it a second. He's up high, we'll see them soon too!"
"Thank God… they made it back."
The entire crowd stirred—hope rising as they squinted toward the fading light. Sure enough, small black dots emerged on the horizon, gradually growing larger. The smiles returned. People began to breathe again.
But the closer the hunting team came, the more those smiles began to fade.
There was no meat slung over shoulders. No triumphant cheers. Just bloodied faces, limping men, and vacant eyes.
Some of them were wounded. Others had to be carried. And one glance was all it took to realize—
They hadn't brought anything back.
A few sharp-eyed villagers noticed something else: there were people missing.
The group came to a stop in front of the drawbridge. Leading them was Grant Carter—Leo's father, and the head of the hunting team. His arm was slashed and bleeding, but his face carried only guilt.
For a moment, time stood still.
Grant licked his cracked lips. His voice was hoarse.
"I'm sorry... we were ambushed by two mid-tier beasts. They came out of nowhere. We lost the prey... and we lost Pillar, Hawk, and Kyle..."
He didn't finish.
Even before he could, several people in the crowd collapsed to the ground.
Cries and gasps broke out as others rushed to help them. The rest of the hunters hung their heads, unable to meet the eyes of the women and children around them.
Leo's body trembled.
Dead. Three of them. Gone.
He dug through the original Leo's memories. This was the worst loss they'd ever suffered.
Grant Carter—the man he now called father—was the one who had founded this dirt fortress and led these people to safety.
Scattered voices filled the air—grief, sobbing, quiet words of comfort.
The hunting team passed through the gate in silence. The drawbridge was raised behind them, sealing the compound in. Three-meter-high walls surrounded the settlement, offering some semblance of protection… and a false sense of peace.
Injured hunters were greeted by family. Some broke down in tears. Others thanked whatever gods were left that their loved ones made it home at all.
Night fell quickly.
Torches flickered inside homes, casting faint light through cracks in the wood. The moon hung pale and silent overhead.
"You're bleeding," Helen whispered, gripping Grant's arm. Her eyes shimmered with tears.
Leo walked up beside them. He was still adjusting to this new identity, but he knew what had to be done.
"I'm fine," Grant muttered. He shook his head, his voice heavy with guilt. "It was my fault. If I'd seen those monsters sooner, Pillar and the others... they might still be alive."
"Hey." A firm hand clapped his shoulder.
Briggs stepped forward, voice calm and deep. "This wasn't your fault. Blame the damned world, not yourself. Out here, every one of us is just buying time."
He gave Leo a crooked smile before turning and walking off with his family.
"Let's go home, Dad," Leo said quietly. "Nate's still waiting."
Grant hesitated, then nodded.
The entire fortress fell into silence. Here and there, firewood cracked and popped. From one of the nearby homes, a child's voice pierced the dark.
"Mom, I'm hungry. Can I have more?"
"Sleep, sweetheart. Sleep, and you won't feel it."
"But I'm really hungry..."
"If you eat that now, there won't be anything left for tomorrow."
The voices faded. The guilt on Grant's face deepened.
Leo turned away from the window, jaw clenched.
The original Leo's father wasn't a loud man, but he was fair. Every time they brought back food, he made sure it was shared across the hold—especially to the elderly and children. It had made some people resent him, sure. But it had also kept the weakest among them alive.
This past month, their luck had run dry. Prey was scarce. Food supplies were nearly gone. Everyone was starving.
And winter was coming.
If things didn't change soon…
They wouldn't just be burying the dead.
When hunger becomes unbearable... the dead might end up carved and cooked