Ash: "We're here."
Their boots hammered the broken streets, scattering shards of glass and dust with every step. Around them, Casablanca — or what was left of it.
Once an industrial capital, the city now looked like a broken skeleton, gray concrete and twisted metal stretching into a sky choked with dust.
The air burned dry In their lungs, thick with the stink of rust and rot. Ash didn't slow. He kept his eyes moving, catching glimpses of movement that turned out to be nothing but scraps of cloth fluttering from broken windows.
Valker shifted closer, his hand hovering near his weapon, muttering something under his breath.
Zayna said nothing. Her gaze stayed forward, sharp and hard, shoulders tight like she was expecting a fight to come sprinting out of the ruins.
Ash didn't look back. The city was dead, but something inside it still needed to be saved.
Valker is moving his head in every direction, it's like he's scanning the empty streets and shattered storefronts, tension written all over his face.
Valker:
"Why are we walking straight into their territory? This feels like a trap, Ash. I get that we're desperate, we should've at least made our way in with more caution."
Ash barely seemed to hear him. His eyes moved from one building to the next, slow and sharp, like he was searching for something he couldn't quite see.
Valker lowered his voice, irritation slipping out.
Valker:
"At least pretend like you're listening."
Ash: (tight, focused)
"We split up. Cover as much ground as we can and search every building. With our smelling sense, we should pick up blood from 150, maybe 200 meters away. Hopefully… you don't smell any."
Zayna tensed immediately.
Zayna: (even, but strained)
"I'm not letting Valker go alone. Especially not here."
Ash's jaw tightened. For a heartbeat, he looked like he might explode — a sharp breath, a deadly stillness — but he just shook his head.
Ash: (low, vibrating with restraint)
"We don't have the fucking time. Those people could already be dead. I'm not asking you to fight. Just report back if you find anything."
Valker: (trying to lighten the tension, weakly)
"Hey, it's fine, honey, I can—"
One look from Zayna shut him up. She didn't even need to speak; her glare said enough. But she did anyway, voice low and hard.
Zayna:
"I'm only here because my fiancé barely beat me to it. I don't owe you or these people anything."
Ash's frustration barely slipped through. A tiny shift in his stance. A slight clench of the jaw. Then he exhaled, slow and sharp, and pushed it down.
Ash: (commanding)
"Go. Now."
They split. Ash moved alone down one street, Zayna and Valker down another.
Ash's boots echoed against the concrete. He kicked open doors without hesitation, stepping into dark, empty buildings, the dust thick enough to choke on.
Ash (thinking):
'Please be alive. Please, just… be alive.'
He didn't trust smell alone. He searched with everything he had — eyes, ears, instinct — but the city swallowed every trace.
Building after building.
Street after street.
Avenue after avenue.
Nothing.
No blood. No bodies. No hope.
Fifteen minutes bled out slow and heavy.
Still nothing.
Inside a collapsed corporate tower, Ash's communicator buzzed.
He ripped it from his belt before the first ring finished.
Ash: (sharp, breathless)
"Where?"
__________
The building stood like the others, a crumbling remnant of a once-thriving city — but this one, this one was even more battered, as if it had borne the brunt of the city's downfall.
Ash was trembling, his body taut with the effort of holding himself together, as though the very air around him had begun to boil his insides. His pulse thrummed in his ears, each beat dragging him further into the depths of his own determination.
Ash: (voice low, strained)
"I smell blood. No, not just blood— it's heavy. Like someone's been butchered. Skin and guts… it's all over this place."
Valker's gaze flickered to Ash, the line between concern and fear drawn tight across his face. His mouth opened as though to say something, but the words barely escaped, as if the weight of the moment was too heavy for his tongue.
Valker: (softly, with a resigned edge) "I know my words don't mean much right now, and I know you won't listen… but damn it, you can't keep doing this to yourself."
Ash remained silent, eyes locked on the broken edifice before him. The building called to him, its shadows pressing in on his mind.
A moment of stillness hung in the air. Then, Ash exhaled sharply, the sound more like a release than a breath.
Ash: (voice cold, decisive)
"You two can go. Now."
Valker's eyebrows shot up, surprise rippling across his features, but he didn't hesitate to challenge him.
Valker: (shaky, incredulous) "What? No, Ash— we didn't come all this way just to turn back. What are you going to do? Stay here?"
Zayna, ever the observer, stood motionless, her eyes narrowing as if reading something the others couldn't see. She broke the silence with a quiet, cutting question.
Zayna: (calm, almost mocking) "You don't sense it, do you, honey?"
Valker, caught off guard, turned to her, his confusion plain.
Valker: (bewildered)
"Sense what?"
Ash's gaze never wavered from the dark entrance. As he moved forward, his steps heavy with purpose, he threw one last glance back at them, his voice hard, almost stone.
Ash: (final, unyielding)
"I don't care what you do. Just stay the hell out of my way."
The wind howled against the decayed building, ripping through the hollow frames and shattered windows. The sound of strained beams groaning overhead filled the air — as if the structure itself was fighting against its inevitable collapse, every breath it took heavier than the last.
Ash moved with relentless purpose, stepping through the crooked doorway. The crunch of glass underfoot was sharp, sickeningly so — like the brittle remnants of something once whole, now shattered beyond repair.
The air inside was suffocating. Stale dust clung to the space, but there was something stronger. Something worse. The smell hit him like a physical blow — thick, rancid, overwhelming. Blood. But not just blood. It was heavy, saturated, like a massacre had been carried out in the heart of this place. The scent of skin torn away, of entrails spilled out across the floor. It clawed at his throat, choking him, dragging him deeper into the grim reality of what had happened here.
His fists clenched, the air thick and suffocating, as the metallic tang of blood became suffused with something else. It wasn't rust. It was much worse than rust.
It was death.
Ash's chest heaves, the breath tearing out of him like it's trying to escape a cage. Not from pain — no, this isn't a wound, it's something else. A fire rages under his ribs, thick and searing, burning its way through his veins.
His eyes flick up, sharp as glass.
The sight before him freezes time. The wall is a gallery of horror: thirteen bodies nailed to it, twisted and broken. Limbs in impossible angles. Skin flayed open, the raw, red tissue beneath a gruesome testament to something unspeakable. Faces, eyes wide with terror, mouths frozen in their final screams.
The stench hits him again — thick, choking, rancid. The smell of blood, sure, but not the kind of blood that just spills. This is the blood of something brutal. The blood of slaughter. A massacre.
His body goes rigid, a tremor running through his limbs as his fist tightens around nothing. His teeth grind together, the sound of his breath loud in his ears as the weight of the room presses in.
The walls themselves feel soaked in it, in the death, in the unbearable memory of what happened here.
Ash blinks, his eyes struggling to focus through the haze of rage, grief, and something much darker, much more consuming.
Then, from deep in his chest, a sound erupts. A ragged, broken noise — half a sob, half a growl — scraping its way past clenched teeth.
Ash (thinking): 'No. Just no.'
______
Ash swallows hard. This person, standing in the middle of it all, is too symmetrical, too clean — a stark contrast to the carnage around him. He's watching Ash with a quiet intensity, like a predator sizing up its prey.
The person: (softly, through a smile) "Hey there, it's a real pleasure to finally meet you. Though, I would've preferred a nicer place and time."
Ash's stare is unwavering. His face is a mask — cold, impassive, as if the stranger were just another piece of the shattered landscape. The stench of blood, the echo of violence, it all feels too distant now. He's numb, detached.
Ash: (thinking)
'Who the hell is this? He looks human… so maybe a survivor? But how? How the hell did he survive all this?'
Ash's legs tremble beneath him, the weight of what he's seen still pressing down. But he straightens, because something is pulling at him. Something he can't ignore, even now.
Before he can move, a shout cuts through the silence.
Valker: (screaming)
"Ash, what the fuck are you doing? Watch out!"
Ash: (thinking)
'What—'
He didn't get to finish.
The person's hand is already lashing out, aiming for his throat, fingers like iron claws ready to rip him apart from the neck, faster than anything human. It wasn't a movement so much as a flash, like a whip cracking through the space between them. Ash felt it before he saw it — the air bending, the slightest shift — pure instinct roaring in his veins.
Quarter of a second.
Not enough to dodge cleanly.
But enough to counterblow out of a instinctive reaction.
Ash took a quick step back, not to retreat — but to anchor himself. His face looks infuriated. His leg snapped up, driving his whole boot into The launching person's abdomen with all the force he could muster in this position.
The Impact was jarring.
It felt like hitting concrete wrapped in skin.
The person's body lifted off the ground, crashing into the crumbling wall beside him with a heavy, wet thud. Chunks of broken plaster rained down, dust curling into the tense, dead air.
Ash didn't move yet.
The whole exchange — the breath caught in his throat, the fire in his muscles, the shock of impact — happened in the span of a heartbeat.
Ash: (to himself)
'That was… close.'
The person begins to rise, slow, deliberate. His hand is on his stomach, blood trickling from his mouth, but there's no sign of real pain. Not even a flinch.
He spits, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then straightens. His body stretches — as if the impact didn't faze him.
The person: (soft chuckle, still smiling)
"Wow. You really are just as they said… and more."
Ash's face freezes. His mind races, trying to piece it together.
Ash: (in shock)
"You… you're not who I think you are. No, this… this can't be. Why would you be here? You look human. You're almost perfect. Who the fuck are you? Did you do this?"
The smile widens, stretching unsettlingly across the person's face.
The person: (soft, almost amused)
"Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Advheurque. I am the second perfected beam of transitioned consciousness."
Ash's stomach drops. The world tilts, and the ground feels like it's slipping out from under him. His voice barely breaks through the fog in his head.
Ash: (barely holding it together)
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Valker's voice cuts in sharply from behind, filled with disbelief and something darker.
Valker: (calm, but the tension in his voice is unmistakable) "So it's true… there was a perfectly executed second consciousness transition."
Zayna tensed, stepping in front of Valker, her stance protective but uncertain. Her gaze flickered between Ash and Advheurque, calculating, searching for the next move.
Zayna: (softly, to herself)
'So this is what gave off that insane presence a minute ago… but why did it stop? Still, that was reckless from Ash.'
Ash's body trembled, not from the pain, but from something far worse. His pulse thudded in his ears as his thoughts spiraled into chaos.
Ash: (growing more frantic, eyes wild)
"You fucking pieces of shit…"
His voice cracked, filled with a venomous fury that seemed to tear at his insides.
"You know, this is the first time I meet someone who embodies everything I despise. Everything that makes me sick to my soul. I thought the first one would hold that honor, but here we are."
Advheurque's smile stretched wider, too perfect, too knowing. His voice was light, almost playful, as though Ash's rage was nothing more than an amusing curiosity.
Advheurque: (soft chuckle, amused)
"Despise… (pauses, voice deepening) That's quite the intense feeling. Emotions are still new to me, Ash. But even in their chaos… I see it. You're everything I want my kind to become."