Chapter 2- Into the Unknown
Ash POV
I woke up groggy in a dimly lit room, lying on a narrow bed in what looked like a cheap infirmary. My head felt like it had been used as a punching bag. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a figure in a brown coat and wide-brimmed hat hovering over me, fumbling with a vial of red liquid.
"You're tougher than you look, kid," the guy said with a mixture of relief and mild annoyance. "I thought you were a goner for sure. But you've got guts, I'll give you that."
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a dry rasp. The figure leaned in, raising an eyebrow. "Don't push it. You're lucky to be alive. Just… relax."
He shoved the vial to my lips and poured the red stuff down my throat. The moment it hit, warmth spread through my body like I'd just chugged a hot cup of coffee. My aches faded, and my mind started working again—well, sort of.
"Better?" he asked, hands on his hips.
I managed a nod, sitting up and stretching, testing out my limbs like I was trying to figure out if they belonged to me.
"Good," he said, pulling off his hat and revealing a sharp-eyed face. "Name's Val. You're the newbie HATS mentioned. Welcome to Remnant, kid."
I blinked, trying to process what had just happened. "Thank you… for saving me," I croaked.
Val smirked. "Eh, you're not the first person I've dragged out of a wreck. Probably won't be the last, either." He plopped down in a chair next to me. "You've got potential. But first, we train you up right. Don't want you dying on your next mission."
His words made me freeze. "Train? Host? HATS? What the hell is going on?"
But my body wasn't having it—I was too tired to process anything. So, I just sighed, laid back, and let sleep take me again, hoping I'd wake up with fewer questions and a lot more answers.
Val POV
I watched Ash snore like a freight train, drooling and all, looking like he belonged in a retirement home instead of out here in the field. I guess the Grimm had really messed him up, but hell, at least the kid was still alive. A scratch on his chest wasn't the worst thing he could've gotten.
I glanced around the makeshift camp. No sign of Hats—figures, the guy's always off doing some mysterious A.I. stuff. I rubbed my temples, trying to come up with a plan for when Ash woke up. He'd handled Beowolf cubs just fine, but the adult ones? Not so much. And there were Creeps around here, perfect for getting him some practice and a few XP points.
If I know Hats, he'll try to shove Ash into one of those combat schools soon enough. They basically do his job for him, the lazy bastard. But Ash's got a long way to go before that. Hell, getting him to level 2 will take months, maybe years. XP from Grimm's easy, but fighting humans? That's where he'll level up creatively. Vale isn't the place for that though... maybe I'll take him somewhere else. Though... Atlas might be pushing it. Yeah, I'll stick around and keep him alive. Hats doesn't want him dead yet.
I sighed and got up, feeling like the tent was suffocating me. Outside, the cool air hit me, and I gazed at the sky slowly turning purple and orange. It wasn't the best sunset, but it was enough to make me relax. I let the crickets do their thing while I let my mind wander.
After a minute, I started planning our next move. There's a village nearby—one or two days' travel. We can stay there, hunt some Grimm for cash, and then take a bullhead to a city with an airship. From there, we cross the border. Could try flying straight over, but that's too risky. We need supplies and better clothing for the road. Atlas is a pain to adjust to, and I don't want Ash getting distracted by shiny robots.
Also, I needed to figure out how to get Ash a weapon. That was gonna be fun. Not.
I shuffled over to the campfire, added some wood, and stared into the flames. A few minutes later, the kid groaned and cursed from inside the tent. Ah, here we go.
He poked his head out, looking like he'd just crawled out of a grave. "Hey, uh, Val... Where'd you put my guns?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Did you check your inventory?"
He searched through his pockets like he had no idea what an 'inventory' was, then pulled out two pistols with golden barrels and red handles. Nice. He scratched his chin and—boom—his tattered clothes transformed into a red jacket with black highlights, fingerless gloves, and jeans. Classic.
"I totally forgot about that," he muttered. "Thanks, man... So, how do you know about HATS? And why do you look like you escaped from Bloodborne?"
I stared at him. "I know HATS because he gave me the same abilities he gave you. And for the Bloodborne thing? No clue what that is."
His face twisted in confusion, clearly offended, but he shook it off quickly. "Right... Sure. So where is HATS, anyway?"
I shrugged. "Don't know. He likes disappearing unless there's some big mission or something."
Ash looked at me like I had three heads. "But... isn't that the point of an A.I.? To, you know, help?"
"Yeah, well," I grumbled. "HATS has been busy with... A.I. stuff." I made air quotes. "Complicated A.I. stuff."
Ash frowned. "Okay, but what about this training you mentioned? What's the plan?"
I grinned, but kept it vague. "You'll find out. But first, we've gotta get moving. There's a village a day's journey north. We'll hit that, hunt some Grimm for cash, and then take a bullhead somewhere safer."
Ash blinked. "Wait, you wanna go into that dark forest full of creepy monsters?"
"Yeah," I said, like it was no big deal.
Ash's jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding me."
I shrugged. "It's that or go back to the village. Pick your poison."
Without waiting for a response, I grabbed our gear and led the way into the dark woods. The forest was dense, and every step seemed like it might bring something nasty out of the shadows. Ash stayed close, clearly nervous, but I stayed calm. He mirrored my every move, like a kid in his first horror movie.
The deeper we went, the more tense the air got. Ash kept looking around like every tree might sprout fangs. I just kept walking, cool as a cucumber, when suddenly—crack—a twig snapped. We froze, our eyes scanning the shadows.
Then—wham—a hidden path appeared, and Ash nearly jumped out of his skin with excitement.
I couldn't help but smile a little, feeling the same excitement bubbling up inside me. We picked up the pace, moving faster through the forest, the moonlight guiding us. It wasn't exactly peaceful, but it was a hell of a lot better than anything I'd seen today.
We finally hit a clearing and collapsed, breathing easy for a moment. The moon hung high above us, surrounded by stars. Ash sprawled out, letting out a sigh, while I leaned back against a tree. It wasn't home, but it sure felt close for a second.
Of course, that peace didn't last. The ground started shaking, and I heard the telltale sounds of digging—like something burrowing towards us. I jumped to my feet, eyes scanning the woods.
I shot up on to a tree branch, watching Ash with an amused smirk. "Hey Ash, looks like we've got a rodent problem. Can you take care of it? Thanks!" I yelled, not bothering to give him a chance to respond.
He shot me a confused, horrified look. "What? Uh, hold on, WHAT?"
Before I could clarify, the ground beneath us started shaking. A deep growl rumbled from the earth, growing louder by the second. Ash looked like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide, frozen in place. I couldn't help but laugh—this kid was way out of his depth.
Then, the ground exploded as a Grimm, all bones and decaying flesh, lunged at him. Ash barely dodged in time, the Grimm's claws slicing through the air where he'd been a second ago. I had to give him credit—he moved fast, but he had no clue what he was dealing with.
"Ash, focus!" I called, sliding down the branch with a grace I knew he'd never match. "Here's the plan: when it lunges, dodge. Don't just stand there like a deer in headlights."
I demonstrated with a quick roll and flip, showing him how to create distance. Ash nodded, his muscles tensing with determination.
"Right, then when it burrows, don't think it's done with you. It'll pop back up and try to grab you. Jump sideways. Got it?"
He seemed to grasp it. Thank god.
The Grimm, now thoroughly pissed, lunged again, snapping its jaws and swiping with claws. Ash, finally catching on, jumped just as the beast missed him by inches. I actually had to admit, I was impressed. He wasn't completely useless.
"Now, strike back! Aim for the joints!" I shouted, as Ash landed and began to fire. He managed a few clean shots, hitting the Grimm's legs, but not enough to finish it off.
The Grimm snarled, clearly pissed. It burrowed into the earth again, and the ground shook as it sped toward him. I felt a little sorry for it—it didn't know Ash had finally figured out how to move.
The Creep burst from the dirt, jaws snapping. Ash dodged, rolling with his pistols drawn, and—bam—he hit the Grimm's legs. Its HP dropped to 20. Not bad for a newbie.
The Grimm tried to retaliate, but its legs buckled. I swear, I almost felt sorry for it.
I gestured with a grin, "Now, Ash. Finish it!"
With a quick, cocky smirk, Ash approached the downed Grimm and shoved his pistols right up to its eyes. Then, he pulled the trigger. BOOM. The Grimm's head exploded in a cloud of black mist.
"Nice shot!" I yelled.
Ash took a deep breath, wiping his brow. "Hell yeah," he said, looking pretty satisfied. "I'm getting the hang of this."
He was—sort of. A long way to go, but he wasn't dead, so that was progress.
"Don't get cocky, kid. That was just a warm-up," I warned, tossing him a few coins. "But hey, you got 10 XP and 10 Lien. Nice work."
Ash grinned, still catching his breath. "Guess I'm better than I thought."
I shrugged. "Eh, you didn't die, so there's that. But next time, try not to freeze like a rabbit when a Grimm shows up. You'll get there."
As we walked off, I couldn't help but feel a bit of pride. Maybe this kid wasn't a total waste of space after all. But I'd never admit it to his face.
Grunt POV - Bullhead
The green-painted Bullhead touched down with a smooth whine, the yellow-stripe pilot nailing the landing like he'd done it a thousand times. The ramp dropped, and we were out in seconds—guns ready, instincts sharp. Our leader, Red Stripes, stepped forward, his gaze hard, like he already hated this mission.
Over the intercom, the pilot's voice crackled in: "HQ picked up weird readings. Not much detail, but stay alert. Red Stripe here's got the rest."
Great. Weird readings. As if the last village wasn't bad enough. We all shared a look. Red Stripes had the kind of experience that made even seasoned mercs like us sweat. If he was on edge, things were about to get interesting.
Red Stripes gave us a look like we were all already dead if we didn't focus. "Stay sharp, people. We're entering danger territory. Anything out of place, shoot it."
We nodded. No one ever questioned the guy with red stripes. Especially not when his tone sounded like he'd rather be anywhere else.
We hit the ruined streets, helmets buzzing with updates and data—hell, even the air smelled like something had been cooking a little too long. Burnt wood and decay. We moved forward, weapons up, looking for anything. The silence was oppressive, but not for long. A few minutes in, the unmistakable sound of Grimm screeching from somewhere in the distance made it clear. Here we go.
Shots rang out, and the air filled with the crackle of gunfire. Red Stripes didn't hesitate, putting down a Nevermore with a few clean shots. He motioned for us to halt, scanning the area like he already knew something was off.
"Something's wrong here," Red Stripes muttered under his breath, examining a house with a massive hole in its wall. Bloodstains and claw marks dotted the beams. "Grimm don't start fires, and this place? No barricades, no defenses—hell, no signs of life."
I snorted under my breath. "Yeah, maybe the villagers just went out for groceries. No biggie."
He didn't even flinch at my sarcasm. "Most of 'em are dead or long gone. We're dealing with something else."
I smirked. Yeah, Red Stripes always had that "I know something you don't" vibe, but at least it wasn't a total loss. The squad kept moving through the wreckage, the reality of the mission setting in.
One of the unmarked soldiers, probably the rookie, spoke up nervously. "Sir, what if we do a last flyby? Make sure we didn't miss anything?"
Red Stripes cocked an eyebrow, scanning the decimated village like he was considering the rookie's request. Then he sighed dramatically. "You know what happens when we ask the yellow stripes for extra work, right?"
The rookie stiffened, eyes widening. "Uh, yeah... never mind."
Red Stripes chuckled. "Yeah, I thought so. No need for the extra paperwork." He waved us on. "Let's get out of here. HQ doesn't pay us enough for this shit anyway."
We all fell in line, my gun still gripped tight, but the tension eased. Maybe we weren't saving the village today, but at least we'd survive to drink about it later.
I gave the rookie a friendly pat on the back. "Welcome to the real fun part of merc work, kid."
Author's Note:
Name: Ash
Level: 1
Class: Unknown
Lien:520
Skill point:4
XP: 20/500
Health: 125/120 (5)
Mana: 0/80
Aura: 0/10
Health potions 1/5
Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of "Ash Dust"!
Your feedback and support are appreciated. Feel free to leave comments and suggestions as we continue this story. See you in the next chapter!