I flew sideways and crashed into the labyrinth wall, feeling the air knocked out of me. Gasping and disoriented, I fell clumsily into the mud.
By instinct, I rolled to the side. Something whizzed past me and hit the wall, sending chunks of earth flying into the air. Then it rose and was hurled backward.
But by then, I had regained my senses.
I twisted my body and managed to land on my feet, stepping back a few paces without falling. The next instant, my knife was in front of me, held with both hands as I had learned in the explorer corps.
The cockroach was already charging at me with a menacing fire burning in its eyes.
Energy flowed from the knife to my hand, then spread to my arm, shoulder, and finally covered my entire body. Instantly, I felt stronger, faster, more resilient.
But was it enough? No. To survive, I would also need a bit of luck.
A claw-shaped leg flew at me from the right, and another from the left. I had no time to retreat or dodge.
So, instead, I did something that made every instinct in my body scream in protest.
I leaped forward, closing the distance with the monster attacking me. The claws collided with a loud crunch behind me.
Instinct or not, it was the only logical step. After all, the knife's reach was far shorter than the cockroach's. I could only counterattack by getting closer.
Before the beast had time to react, I did what I had done thousands of times before. My muscles moved even before my mind gave the command.
With a fluid motion, I raised the sword above my head and struck, pushing with one hand and pulling with the other. My entire body moved in unison to deliver a powerful blow.
The knife whistled as it sliced through the air. Then, it struck the joint of one of the cockroach's front legs and pierced through, severing the limb completely. Blue blood splattered everywhere.
I had less than a second to be surprised.
But there was no time for distractions. Due to the loss of its front leg, the cockroach lost its balance for an instant, falling forward and downward. However, it had five other legs. This wouldn't last long.
But coincidentally, at that precise moment, its other front leg slipped in the mud, sinking the monster even further.
Not wasting the opportunity, I stepped forward, raised the knife, and drove it into the cockroach's mouth. A severed mandible fell to the ground as the monster impaled itself on the knife with its own weight.
The creature's body convulsed before going still.
It was dead.
I exhaled slowly, feeling only the pain in my chest and neck. I touched my head carefully and winced. My hand came away wet with blood.
—At least I'm alive.
I snapped my head up and realized there were no more cockroaches.
Mutants possessed a certain rudimentary intelligence, but it was no match for humans. In essence, they were still predators driven primarily by instinct. Their cunning was of a beastly nature and not so difficult to overcome. That gave me the chance to live another day.
Memories of my time in the Exploration Corps surfaced as I prepared to fill the buckets. Our main task had been hunting mutants, extraordinary creatures capable of absorbing energy and creating their own cores, objects of incalculable value.
Mutant cores had an unlimited number of uses, making them highly valuable and coveted. Naturally, the higher their quality, the greater their worth.
Mutants were classified from the first evolution—like the cockroaches that attacked me—to the legendary fourth-evolution monsters, though the latter were more myth than proven reality.
Though the cockroaches were classified as first-evolution, these creatures could easily withstand attacks from a level 2 hunter solely due to their carapace.
As a general rule, it was always assumed that mutants were stronger than humans of the same category.
Simply because, even if we removed energy from the equation, a mutant's physical body was far stronger than that of an average human.
The underground shelter, though dangerous, was manageable if the proper precautions were taken. The most powerful mutants inhabited the depths of the caves, while the shelter's perimeter was well-mapped and relatively safe for level 2 hunters like me.
I would need three trips to fill the house's water tank. The aquifer was far away, as the areas where water could be found in the shelter were quite scarce.
The filled buckets were very heavy, and though I was injured, I lifted them as always. If I didn't, my son and I would die of dehydration.
If the buckets were larger, I could make fewer trips, I thought as I lifted them. Wouldn't that be easier?
Since my husband's death, the weight of supporting the family had become overwhelming, but as a mother, I had accepted this responsibility without complaint.
As I prepared to return home, a shiver ran down my spine. At first, it was barely perceptible, a faint vibration beneath my feet that soon intensified.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. My body staggered, and the water buckets tipped over, soaking the ground and creating a muddy pool beneath my feet as I instinctively crouched.
The tension was palpable in the air, and fear began to sprout in my heart when my ears caught a sound like wood snapping.
—A scream? —I murmured to myself, trying to convince myself it was just my imagination.
The sound reminded me of a strangled bird, but deep down, I knew it couldn't be the song of any bird.
A chilling shiver ran down my spine as I tried to rationalize what I had just heard.
It couldn't be a human voice.
I tried to dismiss my unease with these thoughts, but they faded when a louder sound echoed through the air once more.
My heart skipped a beat. There was no doubt: it was a human scream.
Without thinking twice, my hunter instincts took over. The tremors, though uncommon, posed a real threat in the underground shelter, and I ran toward the source of the screams.
My legs moved faster than ever, so much so that I feared tripping over my own feet. The screams and howls grew clearer as I approached, each sound more chilling than the last.
My heart pounded wildly against my chest, but I couldn't stop.
Something terrible was happening, and though fear threatened to paralyze me, my legs kept moving, toward those sounds that grew ever clearer in the darkness of the shelter.