Journey to Another Stars

by SkyChaser17

Her heart would seek love filling the empty void, her resolution would tear uncertainty as bellowing thunder, his emotion is as calm as the night, where his hope would be as bright as the day. T to be safe and summary could be better.

2. Unsurprisingly,

Update AN (2/12/2024 Local): Yah, I am updating everything again. They are going to be retcons here and there, but it is for fluency and no more confusing syntax (well, no promise) to read.

Those who have read the original version can tell the difference straight away. I like some parts on the old one, but my reviewers were right that the grammar structure was horrendous XP

I've been taking notes from my pals and trying to learn some other novelist style of writing. Fingers crossed though, this probably will not be as sophisticated or clean as I've expected and planned, but I'm happy with how this turned out. Kinda...

Total words: 15K (Oh for crying out loud… T_T)

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Shout out to my friends: Jdog2k, Stuffy, 5had0wHand, Jaya2002 and SSJeanne35.

If not for y'all, I would not get my ass writing this done, at all. Check out their stories fellas, it is definitely better than mine. XD

Special Thanks to: TalonScythe and Shimuza, you two addressed this chapter's biggest issue and I completely agree with XP

Extra note: screw ff app and web for making my life harder, must spend an hour or so to do damage control.

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"Speaking" Speaking 1st and 3rd

Thoughts in 1st person

'thoughts' for 3rd person

Italics and Bold are also used to emphasize points or important situations

---

C.2 Unsurprisingly, a zombie outbreak went awry, as expected.

"I'm just a regular American who was screwed out of his vacation, dumped on a plane and brought to this place."

-Leon Scott Kennedy. Resident Evil.

---

February 10, 2014. Nagazora. Chiba, Japan.

Roughly three hours after the eruption pulse.

When you think of the word "city," it often brings to mind a vast, crowded area filled with impressive grandeur down to the smallest detail. This reputation has led to its nickname as the place that never sleeps.

A vibrant community made up of diverse individuals. The skyline is dotted with buildings of various shapes and sizes. People stroll along the sidewalks, clutching their phones or personal items. Groups of teenagers engage in lively conversations while snacking on street food. Office workers rushing into public trains in practiced haste. Restaurants and supermarkets fill every corner and crossroad.

Every corner and intersection is filled with restaurants and supermarkets. The winding alleyways, both wide and narrow, are home to dumpsters or unique shops featuring intricate Asian designs. Cars, trains, and buses humming in the background, creating a rich symphony of urban life the moment someone steps foot into the sprawling metropolis.

Thanks to these nuances, city dwellers are often known for being too busy to stop and smell the roses.

In contrast, suburban areas offer a much quieter atmosphere, benefiting from their distance from the frenetic pace of the center of hustle and bustle. Rows of houses are neatly arranged, mirroring the orderly alignment of utility poles throughout the neighborhood. National parks and wild shrubs stand as the remaining fragments of nature, as trees are increasingly replaced by small to medium-sized structures. Neon lights, giant flat screens, towering enterprises, posters of idols and anime advertisements creating a lively yet visually appealing environment.

This stunning landscape can be best enjoyed from a suspended monorail that travels around the entire Chiba region. The region is surrounded by numerous mountains, with a river that carves through the terrain and flows into the open sea visible on the horizon.

This vibrant progress owes its existence to ME Corp unprecedented influence, more commonly known as the Massive Electric Company Corporation. The driving force behind Nagazora's growth.

Yet none of the described sights are present.

Disquieting void blanketed the entire area in a thick blanket, entirely replacing its previous splendor.

Vehicles lay overturned across the streets, while traffic lights drooped unnaturally, flickering red and blue in a weak, endless cycle. Abandoned buildings lined on both sides, reflecting the emptiness where shops' fronts and interiors in shambles. Cracked roads resembling frozen, gelatinized tsunamis made of torn asphalt.

The energy, the unceasing buzz of life and progress, has been replaced by something terrible. Something sinister, abnormal. As if a hurricane had swept through, leaving everything into this condition, wholly rooting out the pleasant buzzing of pedestrians' chatter... with wails.

Not just any ordinary wails either.

A Hungry, denying, damning wails of starvation-

"Move!"

A powerful voice cuts through the desolation like a hot knife piercing through a frost-covered wall. The speaker holds a shiny, metallic gun with a rectangular barrel and a rotating chamber. The sound of squeaking shoes moves in erratic patterns on the uneven pavement, capturing their attention in frenzied fervor.

"Tch-!" Unfazed by the blatant aggression,

"Fine! You asked for it!" She met the aggression with a vexed shout. No hesitation present in the biting response. Bullets immediately flew through the air with deadly precision, striking true on foreheads, torsos, shoulders, knees, ankles, and flailing arms.

Unfortunately, the bloodshed merely amplified the wailing and furious howl directed in their direction.

"Oh, buzz off! We have more important things to focus on than dealing with the likes of you!" Her tone drips with unadulterated exasperation. Mouth twisting into a half snarl, she relentlessly pelts the incoming danger in a one-sided bullet spree,executing stunning leaps and flips that would make any veteran gymnast green with envy.

"Ha-! hah-! Haaa… Ha-!"

"Are you okay!?" the girl called out worriedly. Her eyes still fixed to the front, fighting the impulse to glance back.

Instead of a verbal response, a shotgun shell found its mark in the zombie's forehead, taking down the stealthy infected that tried to jump them in an instant.

"Ha… I'm… I'm sorry for-!"

"Not the time!" The interruption accompanied with a scowl, expression fierce as she smashed the butt of her revolver into a zombie's temple, cracking its skull open before headshotting it pointblank.

"But… This-! This!" Tears welling up on the corners of her eyes.

"Yeah, but we can't let them close in on us now either!"

"But it is my fault!"

"How many times do I have to tell you it's not?!"

"No! It is! Because I did it!" The declaration quivered under an immense pressure, akin to a fragile battery submerged in a chaotic sea of emotions, vibrating with anticipation and pushing that pressure on the precipice of exploding-

"I caused this! I…I-I shouldn't-!" To break free-

"Mei Senpai, look!" Mei's eyes grew wide as she focused on the platinum hair dancing in the wind. Without needing to glance back, the girl had unloaded dozens of bullets at the encroaching danger. A lovely, radiant smile illuminates her face. Radiating purity and sense of calmness amidst the chaos surrounding them.

"I'm not kidding! You'll be fine!~" That innocent, unshakable delight was not dimmed by the scene of disaster surrounding them, like the moon gently hanging above the starry night sky.

"Besides, a gentle smile suits you better than that frown anyway!" the girl added flippantly, effortlessly shaking off any doubts as she executed another backflip to land a perfect head-shot.

"We will survive through this mess and escape the city! I already promised you, remember?! A Kaslana must protect those they hold dear after all!" Kiana's declaration was childlike, sincere, and full of innocence as she finished off another zombie running into their direction. Yet its grace and presence were comparable to that of an adult.

This girl had saved her.

"K-Kiana, I-" For a fleeting moment, Mei's mind relinquished its fear against the danger, replaying a crucial memory that swiftly dispelled her hesitation.

Kiana had rescued her.

"… Got it! I got your back!" If she can't reciprocate her trust in her, then she doesn't deserve her kindness to be saved in the first place.

"Heh! That's the Mei senpai I know and admire! It makes me want to shower you with hugs and kisses to the ground!"

"Eh-?! Is now the time for this?!" The blush is too prominent to hide.

"hehe-! NoPe!" She popped the word, launching into another acrobatic cartwheel to side step an incoming swiping hand.

"Though my cheek is patiently waiting for one Senpai!"

"Kiana-!"

The girl simply smirked and winked. Guns aiming straight ahead-

Bang!

---

Let's all be on the same page first, shall we? Nobody wants to be part of a slug fest caused by a botched weekend riot gone nauseatingly wrong. A zombie outbreak is just the walking dead's (heh) version of that personal hell.

Roughly, it's pretty much the same as any other Black Friday. Though the hoarders aren't clad in oversized sweaters or pastel shorts while aggressively maneuvering their carts to shove rivals aside for discounted TVs and microwaves. Instead, they're decked out in terrifying costumes reminiscent of horror films, complete with sticky labels from a nearby Walmart. Intentionally scaring the poor sods who just happen to be there and unluckily watching the fallout.

Heathens, the lot of them.

Then again, people often don't behave rationally no matter how much we try to influence them. I mean, there are dozens who just want to shoot everyone into indescribable paste for no reason after getting a firearm. Why? Don't ask me; I'm not a gun nut, so I can't explain why either.

It's undeniably therapeutic though. Doesn't make it right regardless.

So you, yeah. You. DON'T

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Zombie outbreak. Sorry…

In nutshell, it's evil, it's horrifying, bloody, and disgusting. Weaklings better back off and start praying when there's no shotgun or a sniper rifle in sight. Assuming you can use one. The major unspoken rule when ended up in one is to never act as an illogical prick for no apparent reason or… well, your *bleep* ass is done for.

As strange as it may sound to know, there's an actual three hundred-page guide on how to survive a zombie outbreak, either on a camping or lifestyle racks on most bookstores' racks.

However, there are three major thumb rules one must learn before even trying picking that book.

First, get a proper weapon that can be swung around or loaded with an unholy amount of ammunition that can get the job done to prevent yourself from being eaten alive.

Second, never, ever, ever betray your companions. Look, going solo can only get you so far. Don't be a jerk by stabbing them in the back when it's convenient. Trust is a two-way street, so learn to be patient and stop picking fights because you think you are always right. Lest they get fed up and kick you off the side of the building like an incensed landlord would.

Third, fight with everything you got, or die a dreadful death from collecting a shitload of gruesome hickeys with nothing sexual behind them.

Debatable which interpretations are worse

"Arrgh... Kofh-?! Argh…" So, here's the thing,

"Uuurgh…" Typically, in a zombie movie or game, they give you some basic information about what's about to happen after introducing the protagonist or antagonist, right?

"Wh…WHat… hit my head?…" Details like, 'Why did the dead return to the world of the living?' and 'What caused this?' Was usually provided for free.

"Ouch… what-" They also establish whether the plot is fantastical, bleak sci-fi, or plain horror. Pushing yourself to question whether the available information can be trusted or not, or there is more to come.

Like. Do the zombies get even more terrifying by mutation later or not?

Does the protagonist need to visit a gun shop or he's already armed with something far deadlier? Are normal people becoming the enemies they must confront, too? These are all basics, sprinkled with dire knowledge to spice up the plot beyond the usual swearing and drama—by gauging their response to a large-scale problem—

"Holy sh—Where am I?…" —and how they will tackle it.

"What the f-! Why am I in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse?!" Mildly nudging, let's say you decided to dump a completely random, half-trained person in the middle of nowhere as the city is on its last legs.

Barely knowing what's going on after the recent rude awakening, slightly better than an amateur thanks to family background and experience dealing with hilarious or outright bullshit mishaps. Owning a functional, family heirloom on his belt for hacking and slashing his way through, and a quarter-emptied super power tank ready to be used to face those odds...

So, of course if I woke up and see something is on my behind—

"Aaaaaaaa-! My aaaaaaass!" Panicking is inevitable. But in my defense... The reaction is justified dammit.

---

Jaune Arc had a terrible month. Granted, most of the dilemmas that befell him were the product born from reckless decisions, bravado, poor judgments that he recently had acknowledged downright stupid, and a strong desire to demonstrate his worth. Sadly, those often come in packages with implications that often weren't good for his well-being.

Dramatic or not, wasn't it sad that Jaune was mostly desensitized to brands of absurdity on steroids?

He was okay with the occasional nudge to not be stupid again like his recent oopsie. It'll make sure to not let his recklessness overpower self preservation at the wrong time and place anyway.

… Yeah, Jaune welcomed them—to a certain extent—but he was not thrilled about being the universe's personal chew toy either! Like... he woke up to find a zombie trying to eat his ass! And no, that's not an euphemism or out of pocket statement!

There are a lot of worrying contexts needed to unpack that insane sente— no wait, that is still an insane sentence no matter how you slice it! It's like saying, "Oh, by the way, you're going to wake up in a zombie apocalypse after almost dying again today. Enjoy!" What the hell Lady Luck?!

It comes as no surprise that Jaune has zero regret or regard for launching his molester into a nearby rubble mountain with an aura-enhanced slap that causes proportional property damage, all while screaming bloody murder.

Inadvertently, slapping the rude bastard confirmed that what he'd hit wasn't just a figment of vivid imagination. His backside still throbbed from the pain, and Jaune wished he could erase the memory without needing to resort to amnesia. That's a thought Jaune would never think he would come up with, but here he was.

Watching the zombie comically fold into the collapsing pile, with its rear sticking up like a child hiding in a game of hide-and-seek, only elevated Jaune's growing hysteria. Flooding strings of questions regarding 'why they're real? Why is he chewing my butt? Why did I end up here?!' passed through his mind without a sign of stopping. The poor bastard.

Unfortunately, the two of them are not the only ones in the area. Other zombies in the vicinity didn't take his display of violence well after hearing their fellow infected gurgling in agony inside the rubble mountain from afar.

Oh, they are also not walking in a slow, shambling manner like crippled plants growing legs. But, honest to god, sprinting like Olympic athletes who were chased by their vengeful exes.

With survival instinct kicked straight to eleven and screaming loud enough to match an opera singer in a duet. Jaune's mind was immediately kicked into a full panic mode.

Thanks to rising stress and imminent threat that would make contact in less than ten seconds, Jaune's mind quickly devises multiple escape plans at a rapid pace. Mapping the best possible route for avoiding danger while formulating the best course of actions to pick that would spare him from permanent harm as confronting the approaching horde head-on is... Yeah, no.

'I have enough common sense to know that fighting them head on will land me into!' Literally running for his life seemed like the most sensible choice—if it weren't for one significant issue that kept him from acting on pure instinct.

Dealing with one or two zombies when retreating? That's Manageable. If they are above twenty and rushing in like men on mission? Where he's petrified like an idiot and knows the zilch of the surrounding area where picking the wrong street could potentially send him to a dead end and serve him on the silver platter for the zombies to snack on?

Hell No.

Jaune hurriedly looks around for anything that could help him turn the tide with increasing trepidation before they surround him. So far, his surroundings is just a rundown sidewalk next to a dilapidated house, surrounded by debris, leaning power lines, and a horde of angry zombies approaching fast.

"Damn it! Is there no other way—!?" Jaune shouted, turning to face the approaching wave of flesh and decay converging on him.

Ensuring Crocea Mors was still strapped to his belt, the huntsman in training reluctantly accepted the situation as unavoidable without a battle after placing both palms on the ready-to-be-drawn weapon.

"—!?" That is-

"Wait... is that—" until he caught sight of a narrow path diverging from the road in his peripheral vision. He understood that relying on luck wasn't an option, but he was confident about the layout of the alley wedged between two houses and the bollards marking its entrance…

Quickly assessing the pros and cons. Jaune decisively unlatches Crocea Mors from his belt's latch.

'All or nothing—!' Unfurling the transformable scabbard into a shield in a loud clanking shift with Crocea Mors still stored inside.

"Hup-!" Firmly establishing his stance, Jaune lifted the shield high after gathering a ludicrous amount of molded aura into it.

Before slamming the shield's tip to the asphalt. Hard.

"Hraaagh-!" Following the thundering shout, a dome-shaped shockwave burst forth, sending the oncoming horde flying like bowling pins.

Without missing a beat, Jaune took a step forward, reeling his arm that gripped the shield with the same ludicrous energy—

"Take this!" before driving the same edge into the chest of a female zombie who had managed to survive the blast and was leaping at him.

The sheer force of his strike sent her flying back like a human cannonball, taking out a few others who were trying to regain their footing, angry cries soon filling the air like discord of deep fried speakers competing with one another.

Jaune couldn't help but crack a grin at the sight of the zombies sprawled out on the asphalt in front of him. With no threats around, the young huntsman dashed into the narrow alley, knocking over a few trash cans and a wooden bench as he went, before leaping over the bollards. The sound of crashing objects and annoyed shouts was music to his ears.

The zombies were too busy colliding and tugging at each other at the alley's entrance to follow him inside. The obstacles made their task harder, and Jaune couldn't help but whooping from pulling the gamble successfully.

"Woohoo-! Suck it, guys! This guy's off the menu!" he shouted, his heels clicking in the air as he pulled off the makeshift bottleneck retreat, gearing up for a full sprint.

But just as he was about to make his escape, a sharp, icy pain shot through his neck. "-!?"

Jaune instinctively spun around, raising his shield just in time after pivoting on one heel. The quick block sent a loud echo down the dimly lit alley.

The clattering metal, musty smell, and poor lighting all combined to amplify the fear factor of his attacker, who was already horrid to look at. Drooling lips, white pupil-less eyes, gray translucent skin devoid of natural pigmentation, and abnormal pulsing pink lines resembling a circuit pattern on a slowly rotting collarbone. The sight twisted Jaune's gut in alarm.

The impasse also led Jaune to a world-tilting discovery that these undead almost possess enough raw power to push an aura-awakened human to the ground, much to his growing disbelief. Jaune would openly admit being the team's weakest fighter, but he'd blocked a Deathstalker claw, which was at least fifty kilos or heavier!

"khhh... krrgh-!" Grunting through clenched teeth, Jaune fought to keep his body upright, reinforcing his shoulders and calves with more aura to stabilize his faltering stance. He shifted his trembling toes into a kicking position, sensing a flicker of intelligence in the soulless eyes before him.

That anticipation proved correct almost instantly when sensing approaching danger from his unguarded flank. Without a moment to spare, he delivered a back-kick to the chest of the first zombie while swinging his shield upward for added momentum-

"Shoot! That's too close!" Allowing him to narrowly dodging the sweeping hands of two other zombies that had slipped through the chaos and were now rushing at him from the sides.

"Kgh-! owch!?" Jaune successfully rolls to the side, landing in a dull thud.

After rolling back into a half-kneeling stance after knocking over some potted plants. Sliding through the flat ground before stomping his left foot forward to maintain a battle-ready stance with the shield positioned slightly diagonal on the front. Right arm never strayed far from Crocea's handle, which remained sheathed within the shield compartment.

The three zombies, unappreciative of their prey's instinctual wit, let out unhappy howls before rushing in like four-legged predators at breakneck speed toward his direction.

Just as Jaune predicted.

Dilating pupils barely blinked as he processed the imminent threat. His eardrums filtered each footstep and loud thumping from his chest carefully to properly measure their distance.

Jaune discards his unease by swallowing a large gulp of air. Tensing his shoulders to flick Crocea Mors to the side in reverse grip the moment they lunged into the air, wholly exposed from below in less than a second.

A perfect opening to exploit despite its risk.

Jaune coats the blade's with a shimmering layer of buzzing aura that glows white. Reciprocating their ferocity with his own by slicing the air in alternating flurry of left and right slashes. Cleaving the space as several thin lines of white manifest and hit the zombies bodies simultaneously.

"Got-! You-?!"

Blood.

"Wh-what?..."

It felt like eternity.

Watching them collapse to the ground. Inert, like puppets that got their strings hastily snapped mid-performance. A slow, wintry chill crawling up into his body from his feet. Paralyzing Jaune in spot that made him struggle to lift his arms to feel the wet substance staining his cheeks and right arm.

"No..." Unbeknownst to him, his gaze was already fixed on the darkened edges of Crocea Mors.

Warm, dripping liquid fell to the ground in a mesmerizing rhythm, pooling into a growing red stain. Perhaps it was the thick silence without accusation, that made the belated recognition register far slower into his mind.

"No way... No way-!" Erratic breathing continues to grow louder, heavier, desperate to usher denial.

The grasp of the grim reality of what's happening around him that forced Jaune to do what he needed to survive slowly sank in. Like a slithering snake trying to strangle his shaking neck in playful embrace after toying with its prey. Jaune longed for this to be nothing more than a vivid nightmare from which he could awaken. It wasn't meant to be this way. He didn't meant to—

"Graaaaaaah-!"

Jaune didn't even get a chance to let out a horrified scream when another zombie lunged at him, taking advantage of his momentary distraction. It charged from the side with a primal snarl, arms outstretched to pin him down.

Involuntarily snapped Jaune from his paralysis, dodging the aggressive lunge with a hasty hand flip. Putting as much distance as possible after accidentally clunking the undead against the wall after his instep makes direct contact with his gaping mouth.

Restraining a visceral scream of fear, Jaune runs into the other direction.

Shelving all sorts of emotions aside as he quickened his pace toward the alley's exit. Both feet pounding against the pavement. Every corner felt like it could swallow him whole, every shadow another ambush waiting to tear him apart.

"What is this place!? Damn it!" The cracked cry echoed through the oppressive alley, whipping winds whistles to his ears in a howling swirl. Jaune pressed on, spotting an opening ahead—a broader street, a chance for escape.

Jaune quickened his steps, only to find himself in a larger suburban area that resembled a marketplace. The wide road and various vendors suggested it could be a pleasant spot under different circumstances. Which probably is.

However, the street was teeming with menacing zombies, locking on to him like a piece of fresh jerky. Especially when their number are doubled compared to the previous road.

'Shit!'

Jaune didn't bother voicing the expletives out loud, heels already cracked the sidewalk from the intensity of his stomp when darting away. Weaving through the encircling undead in a zig-zagging dash to avoid many jaws of death hunting him. Aura burning akin to a flickering candlelight to maintain his speed.

Navigating the branching paths, Jaune was forced to run vertically or horizontally on the walls, maneuvering through scattered crates, vaulting broken bikes or bicycles, sliding under upturned fruit containers, and all sorts of objects he recognize but couldn't label their name while maintaining his speed to escape his chasers. They're just too many and in all sorts of place that make it harder to stop.

Not only overwhelmed by raging emotions and palpating fear, the undead aren't making his life any easier. Jaune can't help but feel threatened and unwillingly impressed by their impeccable aim for throwing all sorts of objects if they are not leaping to grapple him to the floor. Like… Seriously!?

'For a bunch of rotten jerky, they sure have scary accuracy!' Jaune sure couldn't stop that thought from screaming inside his head when sliding under an overturned sign on his knees when dodging barrage of thrown projectiles. It missed his face and eyes, one even narrowly grazed his inner thig- 'Why there damn it?!'

Thanks to his conscious effort to stay aware of his surroundings and dodge the incoming projectiles, Jaune begins to memorize the area, noting distinct details even as his nerves remain frayed.

Green tiled floors, fluttering vibrant flags, knickknack decorations on wares shelves and wooden crates, the unmistakable scent of freshly caught fish from a seafood display, and chunks of sliced meat on a butcher's cutting table.

The local diners and vendors also aren't saved from the fate of being ransacked by the aggressive zombies, who are all now zeroing in on him as the sole human around.

'Well, crap.'

Still…

"... I can hardly read the signboard, but why is it reminding me so much of that Mistralian writing?…" Jaune mutters in confusion.

The intricate lines provide little clarity, indicating that he is definitely not in Vale. The writing resembles Mistral-themed street signs, and the products and wares are unmistakably influenced by that culture, even if the architecture lacks the typical oriental roofs they are known for. Plus, he never encountered such complex symbols during his family's visit to Shion.

Gosh, if only Ren is with him here he can help him distinguish- "Crap, REN!"

'Great, as if being chased by rabid followers wasn't bad enough…' Jaune laments sarcastically inside as the groaning behind him grows louder.

"I don't think this is what they meant about persistent pursuers." He hoped Ren was faring better; after all, his stamina was worse than Jaune's. Still, he wouldn't be shocked if Ren was already lounging in a hammock somewhere with a shade while sipping a dry margarita.

"What I wouldn't do for that spot right now…" Jaune openly grumbled in a raspy exhale after ducking away from another lunging attack.

Suddenly, a chorus of indignant howls shattered his daydreaming. A handful of zombies of various sizes formed a blockade, which also wielding an assortment of makeshift weapons.

The dry quip that he's not in a normal zombie flick in any shape or form died inside Jaune's throat when narrowing his eyes at the threat. Crisp, metallic scrape sound echoed in a quick swish after leaving its sheath glowed in shimmering gold. Brandishing Crocea mors' tip with the transforming shield at their direction without sign of stopping-

"Can't be helped-!" Jaune's sapphire eyes narrowed. Glowing in shade of azure ringed with swirling gold around its edges as shadow cast upon his face, aura briefly crackled around him. Flaring his reserve till it warp the surrounding air in hum of energy-

"Let's go!" -Jaune leaped into a yellow blur. Crashing his shield surface into the nearest zombies' face in a sickening crunch.

Producing an echoing, visceral reverb accompanied by a grunt of pain. Quickly shaking off the knee jerk reaction when another warm sensation splatter hit his cheek. Jaune connects a backhanded strike in a swift counterclockwise motion to the lunging zombie behind him. Staggering the undead long enough so his sword could sever its neck in a messy splash as the zombie let out a dying groan.

"Tch!" His glowing eyes flare with a golden ring, the aura on his eyes seem to slightly alter his sense of perception into a limited slow motion.

In response to their predatory roars, Jaune let out his own, pushing back the fear and nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.

Flooding his sword with even more aura as the only lifeline to escape this nightmare, Jaune spun Crocea Mors using his finger before whirling a flurry of quick cuts and shallow swipes with its tip at the surrounding zombies. His shield on the other hand, continues to deflect and redirect incoming hand swings aimed at his head.

The young huntsman advanced, never lingering longer in one place for more than a moment. The ground was littered with fallen zombies, and he showed no signs of slowing down.

Jaune dashes through the gap of their unorganized formation, maintaining a frantic pace as he dodged and redirected their swings while targeting their vulnerable limbs. Throwing away the usual defend and counter habit to keep his hide alive for a second longer. One second longer to hold on to survive the onslaught.

But that's the end of the typical sword play a knight often uses.

Infusing more aura into his sword, Jaune rotates Crocea Mors around his thumb to capitalize its increasing momentum to send more shallow cuts and quick slashes to maintain his running speed.

A flurry of zig-zagging lines slices through the air, swirling around the sturdy shield that taunts and deflects incoming retaliation. Jaune cannot afford to be rigid and stationary, he has to be fast and relentless at all cost. Denying the zombies from closing, not giving an inch at all cost. Abandoning his previous timid approach of wielding Crocea Mors as a one-handed sword, Jaune instead chose a more aggressive style by gripping the sword like a knife for a faster assault.

Forcing his mobility to keep moving, emulating Pyrrha's agile leg and hand movements to deliver additional strikes and create openings, rather than waiting for it like Ren had taught him in the last few days.

Deliberately leaving his side exposed, Jaune lured the zombies to attack that "weak spot," allowing them to attack or grab him in an attempt to pin him down. Only for Jaune to counter their effort with a fatal takedown that made them unable to get up so he can resume his "retreat".

"Heup-!" After planting right foot on a zombie's shoulder, using it as leverage to launch himself into the air into a corkscrew flip. Jaune connects two scissor kicks mid-air to send the zombie he'd used as springboard away to create more space on the ground. That action gathers enough velocity for Jaune to whip his sword in a tight arc, generating a small cyclone around its edges that immediately pulls the surrounding undead nearby before he finishes them off with a vertical slash in an inverted position.

"Okay! Remember that for future reference!" Jaune exclaimed when kneeling on the ground.

Aura enveloped his entire form once again in a delicate yellowy white outline, replacing the usual flickering gold as he swirled the gathered energy into a clockwise vortex rotation, similar to how he had done it with his shield. Gathering more of them on his legs, Jaune launched forward, hunching his body into a determined stride down the street, as if he had been running like this his entire life.

The sprint brought Jaune to a large road that screamed downtown's intersection. Occupied with dozens of flipped cars and buses, offering a great area to start culling his chasers one by one if he plays it smart.

"Man… The question is, should I risk it…?" Jaune pondered to himself, resting one his palms on his knees as he caught his breath. It was a dangerous gamble if he lost focus, but if Jaune strategized correctly, he could eliminate enough of them to make his escape in this deadly game of hide and seek.

"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained," Jaune whispered, determination hardening his stare as the horde made itself known.

Both weapons were ready at his side, fueled by his courage and aura, igniting his will to survive. Valor and focus swirled in the hunter's glowing eyes, tracking the chaotic movement of his foes. He envisioned them as creeps or a type of Grimm that can easily be bodied. The image managed to ease his anxiety about confronting the former humans with his own hands.

"Time for round two-!" Jaune roared after summoning his second wind, dashing back to the crowd in another whistling zig zag.

Jaune repeated the same strategy to locate the cracks in their circular formation, sliding and flipping to evade their reaching hands. He aimed shallow strikes at their ankles and the joints behind their knees, hoping to either immobilize them for good or create an opportunity for a decisive blow.

Jaune suppressed another disgruntled hiss for not having Nora or Ren to watch over his back or share the heat in a group confrontation shows how much Jaune he's far behind his teammates in crowd control. On the flipside, it made Jaune appreciate their presence as a team when smacking down enemies even more.

'Welp, less complaining, more chopping.'

Although too busy fending off an aggressive mob, Jaune couldn't help entertaining a stray thought to try a fighting move he'd seen in his old video game when disengaging a rather nasty lunge nearly pushed him into a flipped car.

Particularly, a sword-wielding character he often played as a kid, especially in a situation where he faced a large array of foes like this.

It's just that-

"Okay, Cross-!" Right hand unleash a rising vertical slash in a perfect line to the air, followed by the second with a whipping horizontal to the right after fully rotating clockwise as the two crossing slashes charged with huge amount of aura-

"-then Crash!" -that Jaune quickly finished by sending a straight hook to the center of the hovering X mark as his shield swirled in condensed golden energy, causing triple shockwaves in succession instead of one that quake the area in a huge aftershock. -He didn't think it'll work that flawlessly.

"Okay! Active to useful! No wonder you nag me to death about reinforcement Ren!" Jaune can't help but complain his incredulity out loud, because the sight before him didn't show his enemy flies away from the sheer brute force he produced, but outright disintegrated.

His old man better have a good explanation why he can't train with him like the rest of his sisters when he can cause this much collateral damage after brief training with a scornful martial artist!

Wait, maybe that's why?

Either way, Jaune will have to thank Ren later for his lessons if he ever survived this. And still have to interrogate his father's reasoning in the future. Unfortunately, his appointment with incoming zombie waves is still yet to be finished.

"I swear… I'm not this popular in Beacon…" Jaune groaned as he clicked his tongue at the frustrating scene before him. After swiping the blade to the side to clear it, he resumed his slashing and hacking with increased efficiency.

Harnessing aura's property to point where his movements began to resemble those of a human supercharged by an enormous battery, spamming the newly acquired technique over and over to rapidly reduce their numbers while wreaking havoc in his vicinity. But…

"Damn it, they're everywhere!" Jaune exclaims in frustration as he forcefully yanks Crocea from yet another zombie's chest for what felt like the twentieth time that day. Sending the lifeless body crashing into another group in a disorderly fashion.

Buying him a few seconds at best to-

""AAAAAaaaah~!""

"KyyyAaah-?! Get away from me spawn from hell! I have a shield and a sword! The lord is with me! Even if he didn't! Be purified thee! Purified! ! !" Said Jaune Arc calmly. (read: panicking)

"WHY am I here!?" He howled upward. Voice echoing upward and unable to subdue his boiling frustration. The question came with another surge of rolling indignation after kicking another zombie between the legs. Who let a painful whelp before Jaune finished him off with a horizontal slash to the chest before it can recover from the low blow, grimacing all the time at the absurdity of his current predicament.

At this point, where he's surrounded and using fancy techniques takes a back seat for survival. Jaune is no longer emulating Pyrrha's grace or Ren's precise approach anymore, and just throws whatever feels right and less exhausting attacks that doesn't drain his stamina or aura too much. Pushing ardor to smack his shield left and right, while the sword slashes put down incoming threats in lines of white surrounding his position. Keeping the zombies tide at bay as much as his body could allow with the aid of aura.

Alternating between a one two combination, sharp thrust and heavier swings, even mixing some joint strikes and occasional kicks between sword attacks. Increasing his battle tempo by driving it with instinct instead of on the fly strategy.

Well, it seems that standing around and taking attacks without retaliating isn't your idea of a successful strategy either. Jaune has to restrain a derisive snort when launching himself to the air again.

-Avoid hazards and block when necessary to your advantage. Shields are designed to deflect and protect, but that doesn't mean you have to sacrifice mobility by swinging around a slab of steel that still could inflict brain damage to someone's temple. Ren is right. Stationary means death, and Jaune couldn't afford to make that mistake.

In the midst of the chaotic flurry of swinging swords, a lone undead slips through the field in rushing speed. Closing in on Jaune with a sprint, and Jaune has no other choice but to intercept that fast zombie lest it break his advantage of having the battlefield leaning on his advantage by blocking it from wrestling Jaune to the ground.

Locking the two into a familiar stalemate that forces Jaune to remember they're not getting any weaker. Plus, if a discolored jaw with uneven teeth wasn't unsettling enough-

"Hleerrgh!" The sight of blood splattering into the air after he sock it with Crocea's pommel was downright disgusting.

"Bah-!? Gross! It almost went to my mouth! Pfth-!" He spat to the side instinctively, shuddering before redirecting his fury.

"Take this!" With renewed determination, Jaune ran forward with his shield positioned in front. Forcefully slamming multiple zombies flat at the nearest building in a straight line. Then create a spiderweb crack on its walls as exhaustion slowly catches up.

Briefly observing the fallen enemies, Jaune's attention couldn't help but be drawn towards the flickering pink particles dissipating to the air. As if evaporating, like eerie untouchable silk woven out of light coming from abnormal lines that resemble circuit patterns all over the zombie's body. Interestingly enough, Jaune notices the same phenomena on other zombies he'd put down or fatally injured.

"What is that…?" he muttered under his breath, filing the observation away. If this infection was tied to the virus infecting these zombies, those pink traces might be a key clue—or a warning. Either way, Jaune knew better than to touch the stuff.

After wiping the splattered droplets from his cheek with his gloved hand, Jaune returned to the fray to fight for his survival, unaware that beneath the smeared cheek, a glowing pattern came to life. Trying to root itself by evenly spreading the sickly circuit lines on the dirty lower cheek, before snuffed out like nothing was even there to begin with.

The fight raged on, and Jaune couldn't shake the frown from his face. He'd lasted this long without his teammates, which was an accomplishment but it wasn't enough.

'Too slow!' While becoming increasingly comfortable with his current growth, using his shield for anything besides blocking still felt foreign. Inwardly, Jaune understands that there's no rushing progress.

Yet, after experiencing a fraction of Ruby's addicting speed, Pyrrha's flawless control over the battlefield, Yang's overwhelming adrenaline rush paired with Ren's fully precise movements with his own touch, and everything in between.

Jaune could tell that regressing to his slow block and counter approach would be near impossible. He didn't want to go back to being careful and methodical when it doesn't do much in a direct fight either but-

Look, Pyrrha's style isn't suitable for you in the long run-

That stray thought from what Ren had told him at the rooftop made Jaune shoot a demanding glare at his shield. The one thing that keeps his hide alive yet also the one that slows him down the most in a full frontal approach. Ren wasn't wrong, but it was Pyrrha's flashy dodge and attack approach that kept his hide intact this far. Still, swinging both sword and shield wildly wasn't going to cut it for much longer.

A creeping voice advised him to move them together instead in a rhythm, but how could he do that!? He only has an ordinary sword and a shield that can store… his heirloom... wait, he can shrink it. It still as heavy but he can shrink i-

'Metal scabbard!' No wonder Ren called him a dumbass.

Jaune quickly adjusted his grip, driving Crocea Mors into another zombie's torso with a swift, perpendicular thrust. The sound of the blade slicing through flesh was quickly overshadowed by the dull thud of his shield collapsing into its compact form.

Holding the sheath in a reverse grip, Jaune slammed the metallic object into the zombie's face. Causing it to yowl in anger from the hit, but staggering it long enough for Jaune to deliver a cross slash to its chest that was brimming with pulsing golden aura in an X-shape. The attack unleashed a wave of energy that obliterated another group of zombies, creating a broader blast radius than when he used the sheath as a shield, resulting in eight intersecting lines that sliced through them in one swift motion.

"... Huh," Jaune blinked, raising one of his brows in appreciation towards his metal sheath. His lips curled into a grin as new possibilities swirled in his mind from realizing the potential the sheath owned.

Nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders, Jaune twirls the sheath through the air before catching it by the mouth. His body flared with yellow glow, sending out waves of aura that crackled along the edges of his weapons, sharpening them as he approached the recoiling zombies that sensed his sudden change of presence.

Jaune's furrowed brows deepened before bringing both weapons into an improvised boxing stance. Right hand holding Crocea Mors that have its tip pointed at the group of zombies. While his left holding the sheath in a reverse grip, also flooded with a huge amount of raw aura that was reminiscent of burning flames. With use of reinforcement on his limbs, it's Jaune's turn to lunge and carve his final counterattack.

And in those fleeting seconds, for discovering new ways of fighting, of hacking the zombie tide to pieces without even trying to block and deflect once and decimate an entire wave of approaching horde on his own. Jaune felt immortal.

Each strike, each thrust, each arching swing from both hands was instinctual. Tearing through the zombies as Jaune's shoulders worked overtime to send more strength to bisect his foes, before slamming a wide cross attack to the ground that quaked the area to clear out his range of view. Leaving a huge X mark on the damaged asphalt as his enemies disintegrated in its wake.

"Eat this fugly!" Jaune exaggerated when batting a zombie's head that launched it high into the air to land somewhere for the umpteenth time.

"Gosh, I wish I wasn't so stubborn and attached a bazooka to my shield!" How he missed Ruby's ridiculous idea when it's strictly convenient. Even though swinging a very volatile shield is asking for a trouble-

"Kgh-!? Ga-Woy! This jacket isn't cheap! No way I'm telling the dry cleaners where this came from!" Any form of ranged option to blow everything in his path is much appreciated when he's so sick with the gruesome sight up close. An RPG loaded with Molotovs somehow comes to mind.

"Kh-!" A stray swipe nearly took his eyesight if self-preservation failed to kick in.

Straining against his limitations, Jaune knows he's going to run out of steam from maintaining this blistering pace. The toll would catch up if the reckless onslaught continued without stopping. He has to quickly finish this.

With that in mind, Jaune faced the final three zombies as his remaining aura surged in alignment with his escape plan. Somehow.

A surge of recklessness that Jaune failed to suppress overtook his urge and made him hurl his sheath into the first zombie, watching it spin like a boomerang and embed itself in its chest. Without missing a beat, Jaune slashed the second zombie across the face, before finishing with a forceful kick to its chest that sent the undead soaring to the side.

The third zombie closed the gap faster than expected. Jaune instinctively dropped his sword down into a defensive position, the blade slicing into the zombie's collarbone. But—

"Argh—!" Jaune cried out as the zombie's teeth sank into his right wrist, sending a wave of searing pain through his entire arm. Tears stung his eyes as he smashed his sword down, bisecting the creature in one brutal strike, but not before punching it hard in the face with all of his might first.

"No..." Jaune stuttered. Uncaring of being drenched in blood as he stared at his wrist. The wound is deep, and he had no way to treat it. His mind raced, coming to the terrifying conclusion.

"No.."

He's infected, it's all over. Even if he cauterizes it or chops his right arm, there is nothing to stop the bleeding. He was as good as dead. His aura can't stop it when it leaves him defenseless until the wound fully closes... and even then, he's done for. After coming this far...

The decaying teeth marks left a vivid imprint, bruised and discolored color surrounding the mark. A pulsating pink light traced the fresh wound, resembling a circuit line that spread like a growing tree branch like other undead has that slowly, spreading outward all over his palm.

…He's going to be one anyway?

"...NO-!" His voice broke with defiance, igniting the desperation with denial to give up. There had to be a way, it had to!

Jaune may have been gambling on a futile plan, but there was no time to doubt its viability the longer he hesitated.

'Here goes nothing-!' The effect was immediate. A hiss escaped his lips as another intense tingling zap coursing through his wrist. Jaune clutched his spazzing right arm, restraining it from moving too violently as if enduring a searing burn.

"Aaaargh-!?" Even through half closed eyes, Jaune managed to see his wounds slowly closing and bathed in muted glow. Golden color sparks like electric current dances around his wound for a few seconds before flickering out, healing the bite injury as well as oozing out most of the contaminated blood like swelling magma from the bite mark.

"Haaa…ha….ha…!" Jaune was breathing hard, unable to click his tongue in distaste from the barely acceptable patchwork as the grotesque sight will become his staple source of nightmare from here on out. There should be a safe place he could use as a shelter to recover some of his aura back and rest, he can't risk it anymore.

With a thump on the ground from stomping his leg and flipping both of his weapons in reverse grip, Jaune resumed his sprint.

He should have been on the ground, immobilized by the pain shooting through his arm, but—

Unnaturally fast runners pursued him to a tiny dead end, where he discreetly eliminated them in another short wheeze before putting his blade away after another painful jolt shot through his right arm. He couldn't afford to stay and get overwhelmed again, especially with his right arm barely functional—one wrong move could reopen the jagged wound. He needed to keep moving. Jaune vehemently sought a way out, before gazing upward.

Spotting a fire escape on the side of an apartment building, untouched and just above a dumpster. No time to hesitate. He vaulted onto the dumpster, denting the lid, and climbed the ladder just as another wave of pursuers appeared.

Exhale of relief was cut short as Jaune feared that the rooftop would be overrun if the zombies could climb up the ladder as he did. The number below him only cemented the dread as he plopped himself up the ledge before sprinting away from the fire escape.

He jumped from building to building, not gracefully, but efficiently enough to widen the gap between him and the horde. He slid on his knees under low arches, vaulted over boxes on open verandas, and kicked open locked doors instead of searching for another way around. Finally, after a long jump from a nearby ledge, he landed on the second floor of a nearby mall.

-he's still alive. Looking worse on the wear, but still kicking.

"Haaa-! Haaa-! How!?…" Jaune asked no one. Mind in unusual clarity after the adrenaline slowly wears off.

A reluctant glance to his right wrist made him wince once more. The wound wasn't completely healed. Still pulsating with unknown pinkish energy that was wilder and far more erratic than Ren's calming presence.

Covered by the blood that was not his. His body was still holding up despite the injury on the primary arm. And he'd even managed to find a working handgun from a nearby infected cop, slipping it into his back pouch for emergencies.

Jaune also managed to come across a ready to use Van after escaping the nightmare for a lifetime on his own.

Leaning on the van's door, Jaune's whole body shook. His mind was finally catching up, digesting what's happening to him, why the frantic escape went so wrong so fast. Taking in the horror of what he'd survived, what he's facing. Running around like a headless chicken, escaping death even after becoming infected himself.

It's hard to accept that all of this is real. That the weakest of the Beacon bottom scrappers had come out on top like this.

It came naturally, slicing, dodging, hitting them with basic brawl moves. For killing zombies, for killing huma-

"—!" His stomach churned-

"Hoooooeeeeeekh-!" and he let it all out to the ground.

"Uuph-!? Bleeeeh-!" Jaune didn't have the faintest thoughts of praying for the dead before reaching this point.

"Ha-ha-ha-! Kha-" Guilt and disgust combined into one unstable concoction crashed all at once.

"Aaaagh…. hah… hah!" Jaune finally stops vomiting, but the horror remains thick. A strange calmness washes him over to cool his mind after letting aura flow naturally through his head and body. Detaching his contemplation to be free of moral value to see things objectively, one he must grasp if he wants to survive.

They're dead. He is not. Live or join them.

His heart was unable to accept it even though he agreed with that conclusion. He was nothing more than a prey, and the zombies are nothing but former humans. Simple as that, yet no matter how much of a klutz or heartless rationalism sprouting inside his believe was-

"Heeey~! Can anyone hear me!?" Jaune yelled in an outburst of rage, brittle and hollow, desperate for an answer. His mind required three full seconds to catch up with the fact his mouth was acting against his better judgment. But Jaune can't bring himself to care and cupped his hands.

"Heeeeey-!" Yet Jaune couldn't stop, he didn't want to stop. He can't afford to stop now.

"Cough- cough?! Please-! Anybody!" He can't possibly be alone in this nightmare. Someone surely survived like he does, far worse hiding in fear with nothing more than wits and despair compared to his situation. They needed his aid more than he needed theirs.

The mobs inside the mall promptly face their bodies towards the source of noise, breaking all sorts of perceptions and smashing through the glass partition that made Jaune blanched. The shards on the floor didn't even make them slip as they left destruction on their path.

"Oh shit!" The blond spat loudly, regretting his impulse not curbing his need to recklessly save others sooner. He harshly opened the Van's door and connected the wire together to start it up. Sweat and anxiety piling together as his trembling fingers keep rubbing the cables together.

"Come on come on come on COME ON COME ON-!" Jaune barely waits for the rumble of the engine to start before flooring the gas pedal.

A sharp inhale entered his nostril after watching the city from the driver's window. Blue iris roaming left and right, taking in the sights of zombies of all ages on the street. His heart fell, but he didn't want to give up. Wholly believes he is not the only survivor.

"Heeeey!" It was wishful thinking. But Jaune just can't let them be. His pride won't allow it. He wouldn't allow it.

"Please! Anybody! We have to get out of here! it's not safe!" As useless… as unnecessary, as hopeless the endeavor was for putting himself in further danger to find a single injured survivor. He'll do it gladly.

Even if faced with waves of running corpses forming a thick wall. His eyes remain brimming with determination.

"Bring iiiiiit-!"

---

"Pfthu... Alright, that's the last of them." Ren muttered softly, his detached tone barely concealing a blooming sense of relief. He carefully flicked the slick blood off StormFlowers' blades, sharp eyes scanning for any lingering threats hidden in the shadows.

Magenta irises glared apathetically, revealing the sharp, calculating glint behind his impassive facade. His Semblance worked overtime to dampen the emotional turmoil that surged within him as he double-checked the motionless bodies surrounding his legs and trail in a grotesque pile.

"Cough, cough-!" Ren couldn't help but produce two short coughs, quickly placing the back of his hand to muffle the sound before delicately brushing his scratched Adam's apple with a caressing thumb.

"Cough! Cough! Argh... Fantastic... It's deeper than I expected..." His deeper voice strained amidst hitching breaths and a bothersome gurgle. Despite the discomfort in his throat, Ren chose to concentrate on his recuperation, consciously healing the damage that bathed in the pink glow of his aura.

'Urgh... Has it already gotten worse?' Ren grimaced, his thumb brushing the cut more gently as he infused more aura into it. The friction caused his thumb to throb with unpleasant itches. Unbeknownst to him, a pulsating mark briefly manifested in a lighter shade of his aura, only to vanish as quickly as it had appeared. As if merging.

Another cough escaped Ren's lips, deeper and more forceful this time, urging him to put even more aura into the cut. For whatever reason, the treatment took longer than expected, even though it should have been more than enough to repair a wound of that size. If Ren was any lesser huntsman with a surface-level knowledge of aura, he would've likely overlooked the unusual occurrence as the effect of exhaustion.

After lightly flicking StormFlower to the side to make sure the blade attachments were blood-free, Ren inspected the gun's blade a bit longer as his soles echoed through the dim alleyway. Furrowing his brows the longer he examined them.

It hadn't been that long since he last sharpened them in acceptable condition. For it to own so many small chips and cracks this fast instead of weeks of poor maintenance is… troubling.

This revelation alluded to the possibility that whatever infected these zombies could corrupt not just living beings... but also objects in their immediate vicinity. And perhaps... they could also be spread by other means than direct contact.

"…Let's hope for the best…" Ren knew that his only protection against the infection was his aura. One that may be useless as time progresses on after his semblance contains his dread when comprehending that the virus might already be inside his bloodstream.

"Could a malicious party have created a dangerous super virus by testing it on this city?..." Ren couldn't help but question it out loud with his usual poker face. As this outbreak manages to create this scale of disaster doesn't sound too far-fetched as one of many deductions he could currently come up with.

Numerous, albeit fantastical, possibilities filled his mind. Even if they seemed implausible when articulated, they were worth investigating. Moreover, Ren himself is a huntsman in training who's able to achieve superhuman feats with aura. An outbreak caused by an evil scientist that leveled a city for a mad experiment with a hidden agenda doesn't sound that insane even if the analogy is downright crude.

Ren felt another brief tingle brushing against his throat while piecing together these fragmented thoughts into proper puzzle pieces. The raven-haired huntsman in training couldn't ignore the intrusion, even though it quickly dissipated. Scanning the surrounding to trace its lingering presence crop up nothing that was not out of the ordinary. That alone should be the first warning.

He shouldn't only trust his eyes and ears.

Huntsmen were renowned for their extraordinary abilities, thanks to their aura and semblances—the powers that allowed them to exceed normal human limits. Trusting his instincts, Ren labeled this sensation as an important unnatural phenomenon he should confront and deal with properly, rather than a mere dismissible disorientation.

Still, the sight of shattered neon signs, ransacked dumpsters, murky puddles, cracked and peeled off wallpapers, mingling odor poorly from all kinds of source, and laying bodies reminded Ren of his childhood in Vale's outskirts. When he and Nora were but snot-nosed children trying to survive on the streets.

Well, minus the disappearing to-nothingness in pink light part. The bleak scenery is way too nostalgic. So much so, Ren scoffed at the absence of a black tuxedo and red tie to complete the short memory trip.

He couldn't help but think of the days where he and Nora are adapting and finding out that they are degenerates who will not hesitate to harm children within their territory when scavenging through dumpsters, even when they are pleading for mercy.

It was thanks to Nora that Ren had preserved his sanity, and thanks to the Xiong family they had a roof over their heads. Despite their criminal dealings, they had offered him and Nora a sense of belonging. His semblance had also played a crucial role in stopping him from spiraling into a depression hole.

Growing up under their tutelage and protection, only nurtured his desire to protect Nora and repay their kindness in a way he could do. One such was by taking on cleaning jobs. Jobs that are meant to stay under the table, one that are not lawful in any shape or form. The task that made Ren aware of what it takes to keep the light far away from the darkness.

Nora was no stranger to what was happening on and under the table. She's far more perceptive and knowledgeable than others let on outside of the happy and upbeat persona.

While she learned how to pickpocket or terrorize someone effectively, Ren was adept at silencing them without notice. He rather lets Nora live with the belief it was her actions that kept them safe, and prefers to keep things that way.

Snapping out of his reverie, Ren felt a sharp, yet bearable ache in his throat. He decided to relinquish control of his Semblance, focusing his aura entirely on mending his injury. It was a conscious choice to release the grip of power that had always served to pacify his emotions.

As he patiently waited for the healing to take effect, his gaze drifted towards the thirty lifeless bodies dissolving into wisps of pink smoke from shallow cuts on their ankles, joints, collarbones, and napes.

"Another day in paradise... cough..." Truly, the sight hit too far close to home.

"... Okay, cough... I needed to regroup with Jaune." It was a whimsical groan, an obvious reasoning as he slammed a clenched fist against his chest, leaning against the wall for support.

"He's... He's as... cough-good as dead if I didn't reintroduce-cough-him to the basics..." Ren grumbled while suppressing another fit of coughing.

"It'll be alright... I'm sure he's... Cough-alive. All I have to do... cough-now is-"

"-in reaction to unceasing self-reassurance, has the subject realized that he's not clear from danger either?" Ren jerked to the side to whip one of his pistols to the-

A massive harpoon greeted him.

"Sh-!"

---

"-it!" The strike landed perfectly on his right elbow, causing a bone-shattering crack that sent a deep chill down anyone's spine.

"Aaaaaaaaarkh-!" It was more than enough to provoke a visceral reaction from any onlooker, but the searing pain that flowed down his arm ripped a raw, piercing yell from Jaune. The cry of agony became the only available noise besides knees dropping to the ground in a sickening thud.

Blood steadily oozed down from the gash wound on his forearm. Showing no sign of healing and covered by dust and grime, as Jaune grips his sword in a visible tremble. A stark contrast to the slowly fading crisscrossed marks on his entire frame that slowly knit itself back with a shimmering yellow glow. Even if his broken bone already stitched itself together alongside the closing wound, but the process wasn't painless in the slightest.

Sonorous, deranged laughter freely crooned just meters before him.

The sound churned his gut as it snapped Jaune's attention away from the pain. Heartbeats faltered for a split second after realizing he'd glanced away from an enemy. A dangerous enemy. Who didn't let out a feral laughter, but a taunting one.

[Wrathful Cerulean Flame/Amiya's Evolution. Arknights extended Ost]

Jaune was too focused on the pain and observations to notice the faint hissing hum that reached his ears. The sound was followed by the unmistakable fracturing glass, which crumbled into countless shards without mercy as his body stiffened in shock.

"no…" His waning whisper has never become this domesticated.

His aura shattered.

"No…." Jaune refused to accept it, but he could not ignore this truth. Surviving a car crash by stupidly slamming the gas pedal into a wave of approaching zombies with his remaining reserve is akin to a miracle. It's incredible he'd last this long. But after fighting wave after wave of relentless zombies without a break or regard for the consequences of burning through his aura reserve, and suppressing his infection atop of it?

"No…" His trembling body barely held together, sluggish, on the verge of collapse.

But he couldn't let it end like this.

His shrinking blue pupils flickered, faint as a dying candlelight facing against an engulfing gale.

He couldn't give up now-

"No…!" Through gritted teeth, Jaune forced a defiant cry from his lungs, stomping his foot into the ground to send a jolt of life through his limbs. To stand up, to move, to fight. Jaune didn't need an insight-based semblance to notice the zombie is aiming the gun she'd swiped from his back pocket from their previous scuffle at his face.

He won't die like this-!

"Since when did they wield guns and sickles?!" In a spur of impulsiveness, Jaune transcends his fear to indignation. Throwing his body to the side to dodge the incoming bullet that aimed the spot between his eyebrows.

Jaune scowled at the sneering taunt, bringing his shield to the front before charging back in, which made his attacker scoff. With ease, she sliced the pistol into two to prevent Jaune from using it as she reciprocated his advance with her own. Giving her enough time to smirk in an unsettling grin at the struggling prey. Hair bangs cast shades over her glowing eyes that promised a painful end.

Jaune barely dodged the blade sweeping for his neck, ducking as he thrust his shield upward to counter it. The manifesting pink lines creeping across his arms and neck went unnoticed amid another unpleasant jolt. His focus entirely locked on to his foe who easily sidestepped the hasty counter.

The air whistled with each lethal swing, one that increasingly grew more problematic to dodge and keep up. There's not even enough time for Jaune to concoct irrational ideas or plans, only surviving at all cost.

The zombie, grinning with deranged glee, pursued Jaune who tried to disengage. Her shadowy fingers wiped fresh blood from the blade after another cut landed on his calf. Taunting the young huntsman to make the identical mistake.

This is the end; Jaune mistook his adversary as another run-of-the-mill fodder. It should be evident this zombie wasn't like the rest when-

"Shoo-! That was close!" He exclaimed in alarm, avoiding another swipe that grazed his hair, one that made him stumble backward to the pavement.

"Kach-!?" A sudden sidekick was delivered to his sternum, sending Jaune rocketing across the street. The asphalt surface tore his jeans to tatters; fresh bruises and cuts made themselves known beneath the torn fabric.

"Tch!" Strengthening his grip on both weapons, Jaune flipped three times in the air into a clumsy somersault, before planting the sword to the ground to stop his momentum.

"It should be the other way around!" The coppery tang in his mouth went ignored as Jaune's hysterics drove him to deliver the unnecessary quip at any cost.

"It's movie rule fifteen! No twists of supposedly established continuity! Get your fact checking right!" His words punctuated each swing of his shield, though his stamina was rapidly waning.

Another disdainful snort escaped the knight's lips.

The ashen-haired girl in the crimson jacket wielded the weapon with the poise of a true serial killer. Thick bloodlust seeping through her ever-present sneer, sending a wave of unease coursing through Jaune's veins in the worst way possible as the scythe always aimed near to his face or neck.

"Is this Ruby going rebellious after Yang's failed dress-up session?!" He repelled the incoming scythe and swung an upward slash that she easily dodged, before earning another kick that launched him away yet again.

"Gukh-!" Jaune mustered what's left of his strength and swung his sword in a sweeping arc, forcing his assaulter back before flying across the highway littered with upside-down vehicles.

The girl... the reaper... Unbothered by his resisting attempt, simply backflipped, twirling her scythe with lazy grace. Jaune was too busy standing up to need a reminder that the unnatural zombie is already closing in on him again.

Jaune's vision gradually darkened as he struggled to keep up with her pace, barely able to fend off the cumulative fatigue at bay through sheer force of will.

The attempt to mirror the scythe user's maneuver sent Jaune flailing as cuts and gashes ripped through his body, bypassing the shield's cover he could barely raise.

All of his senses, including the infamous six, arrived at one unified conclusion.

RUN.

So Jaune lifted his feet, readying himself for one last desperate sprint. Both fight and flight responses overtook everything, where the former wholly supported the latter without resistance.

In the midst where a predator simply toying with its prey.

Neither noticed the pulsing circuit beneath his skin, concealed by his gloves. The lines crept up his forearm, extending to his shoulder, arrays of diverging pathways expanding their influence. Adapting... or perhaps adjusting, to fit the host.

A sudden beat that shook him to the core.

"Urgh-!?" Jaune's body shook violently as a guttural groan escaped his throat, where the pain roared through his veins like wildfire. His perception of time twisted and contorted.

The energy inside him shifted, consuming the remaining traces of yellow bordering on white that had kept the corruption at bay. One that prevented 'it' from successfully latching to the host, blending with the leftover as it gathered more corruption lingering in the air to complete the takeover.

The girl's mouth curled into a sinister smile as she raised her weapon, preparing for the final blow. 'It' proceeded to course through Jaune's body. Darkening the pulsating pink to dull white, before flashing red in a burst of energy.

"aaaa-" Jaune's voice faltered as his consciousness crumbled alongside his body. His eyes rolled back, catching a glimpse of her unhinged grin as her scythe descended toward his exposed neck in slow, ticking motion.

The victor was decided, soon the host would be another one in the crowd, another pawn for the empress to command. And 'it' would succeed in no time—

"Tch-!" Jaune bit down hard, drawing blood from his lower lip as he forced himself to stay awake. Valor for survival surged out on an unprecedented scale, with glimmering gold enshrouding his frame once more. Refusing to back down.

"Kggrhg-!" His eyes snapped open, blue irises burning with a ring of yellow, pulsating like a newborn star.

Suddenly, 'it' was pushed back, leaving no room to retaliate. Jaune's hand, which should have been impossible to move, twitched and gripped his sword tightly despite the cracking sound. Enshrouded in white brilliance, his gaping wounds began to mend itself at a miraculous pace.

Crocea Mors blurred upward as his last stand.

The clash between his sword and the scythe was a blur of motion. His right arm and cheek, once marked with angry red, reverted to snowy gold as he poured every ounce of strength into his blade.

Empower-

Ethereal white emerges. Aura entirely absorbs the fragmented, corrupted energy inside his body and in the air.

[Ost around 3:21]

A surge of pure white energy erupted from Jaune's chest, channeling through his sword. Reenacting the deep sensation buried within his heart, to prevent Cardin from hurting his friends. To prevent the explosion inside the cabin from claiming more lives, to stop doubting himself and win!

"RAAAAAaaargh-!" Surging gold turned into a captivating beacon of light.

A massive wave of crescent white carving itself through the air, obliterating everything in its path. The wall of a distant building was split cleanly, sending rubble cascading to the ground.

[End ost]

"-!" Jaune's breath and heartbeat slowed down, and the pounding beat eventually entered his ears.

"Ho…How?" Jaune whispered, his gaze fixed on the gaping hole in afar. The zombie who almost massacred him was nowhere to be seen. She'd vanished, no resistance, no scream of anger-no nothing. He had won but couldn't understand how.

"I... I did that?" Jaune slowly turns to his right palm, expecting to see a massive wound or ugly mark from infection, but nope. Clean and unblemished as a baby's skin. After checking that all of his wounds healed up, his overwhelmed gaze migrated back to the wide hole from a distance as if he had never been harmed before. Jaune swore this felt familiar... and there was a nagging voice that warned him it'd be a reoccurring thing like what happened in Forever Fall.

"Unbelievable…" Jaune muttered, sagging to the ground as relief and exhaustion caught up with him. Overall, he's drained. But he's also lighter and stronger, if that makes any sense. It was as if a ton of weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Jaune's palm drifted to his chest, where his heart pounded beneath it in exhilaration. There's a thing there... just beside his aura.

It's... untapped?... or is it uncorked? Anyway, it's just there and Jaune doesn't know what to do about it

"Great… more work to do..." another mumbo jumbo added to his ever-growing list indeed.

"Cough-!… Oh geez… That was way too much of a close call," Jaune whined as he tried to stand back from the cracked asphalt. Swiping his sword and shield up after popping some bones and dismissing cold sensation on his knees and shoulder blades.

"This is like Cardin all over again… hehe… hopefully not, an Ursa can't just spawn in the middle of a flying highway is going too much like last time-" His ramble was promptly cut off.

Straining his ears. Jaune was accustomed to the sound of muffled moans of hunger and anger after waking up in this place so far, but it was clear.

"-elp-! So-e h-lp us-!" It was faint, but he couldn't mistake cries for help for anything else after reinforcing his hearing with aid of aura reinforcement.

"Hahaha… no way, that's my ear playing jokes on me. What's the chance?" Jaune drawled in forced chuckles. "Well, It's not like I would have to sacrifice my bacon again to save someone I barely know before regretting everyth-"

"Noo-! Help-! aaaaanyone!"

" Motherfu-! I was joking-!" The complaint had no effect on his raw speed. Jaune launched to the air as his arms pushed off the asphalt, leaping off the highway wall and landed precisely on the-

"—!? Wait?! I jump over that?!" He did, he just land perfectly fine after jumping over a flying highway.

"ーけてえええ-!" Jaune flinched. No more thoughts. RUN!

The city transformed into that of a gigantic bypassed diorama, a blur of empty buildings gone ignored. Passing through tumbled vehicles and desolated streets as if borrowing a certain speedster's semblance.

Jaune's feet brought him to an incline, where-

"What the-?!" in all fairness a… FUBAR situation is, well… FUBAR.

Jaune pretty much tasted them nonstop since opening his damn eyelid and had enough serving for a lifetime.

But, come on! 'What's with this cheap porno in front of me?!' A part of him wouldn't live it down if he'd wailed that out loud.

Barely concealed shoulders, stomach, and thighs? Check.

Swords? Check.

Tail? That's random, so… maybe a check?

Long black hair, check.

Horns? Okay?…

Ninja-like vibes?

"Blake!?" The goth would have murdered him if she had heard the loud accusation, but Jaune had better things to worry about. The deviants… zombies? Whatever they are, is bothering him a lot with unsettling expressions that there's no doubt he has to act now or regret it for the rest of his life.

Zombie mutation devouring humans in the most horrific graphics? That frightens him.

Zombies dressed as sexy ninjas that may or may not deflowering two girls no older than ten just a few meters away after he'd nearly kicked the bucket?

"Hey-!" Jaune yelled indignantly. Perfect sprinting form ready to break world's record and sword ready to be drawn was running towards the floored the peanut gallery.

White sparks crackled ominously around his feet in a subdued golden swirl, before he jumped.

"Pick up someone with your own sizes!" Jaune bellowed bloody murder, stomping the air where everything come to a stop as the shrinking eyes of his target understood she was no way to dodge the-

Like a Ferrari jabbing through a petrol truck in slow motion. The ninja zombie flies in a triple axel, breaking the sound barrier before crashing in a loud crash after slamming hard into a glass frame across the nearby avenue. Jaune, and the rest of the onlookers who are too captivated to leash out any coherent comment from the barbarity, stared in askance.

Jaune blinked once, twice, before slowly directing his bewilderment the other way.

The other kunoichi already took a step back and aiming her blades at him. There's a trace of trepidation and anger inside that apprehensive eye contact. Jaune glanced to the other side, unsure whether the strange... bees? Whatever they are, blinked or not.

Judging by the direction of their snout, or is it nose?, is any indication. They're either giving him the stink eyes or silent demand of explanation. Again, Jaune didn't know but just rolled with it.

"... Uum… that's what would happen if I stretched my legs?" That's… not a correct, eloquent response either Jaune.

They didn't argue and just jumped him.

---

[Coffin Company-Soundside. Counterside Ost.]

Above the churning ocean, a massive airship cut through the skies, its metallic surface reflecting the fiery hues of the setting sun. Its sleek hull curved with precision, giving it the appearance of a giant steel predator gliding through the heavens. The side keels, angled sharply like fins, enhanced its aerodynamic grace as boosters roared from the underside, propelling the vessel forward. Pale blue anti-gravity fields shimmered at its base, keeping the behemoth afloat, cutting a straight path through the sky.

This was no ordinary vessel. It was designed for combat, with a fearsome array of rail guns and reactors capable of withstanding even the most severe battles. Its ability to withstand even the most catastrophic impacts, including direct nuclear hits, is a testament of humanity's engineering.

Within the heart of the bridge, the command deck buzzed with the low thrum of machinery and the constant taps of operators working in a coordinated manner. Holographic displays hovered midair, illuminating the room with reports streaming in from across the globe. Data poured in constantly but the officer standing at the podium remained unmoved, her sharp eyes reading everything on the screen like a watchful hawk. Each second carries tense air, as each available decision may change the trajectory of their operation.

The officer beside her scrutinizes the reports with meticulous precision. Meanwhile in their seats, the operators worked in perfect sync, sharing information at rapid speed while informing the HQ and east branch regarding their designation of having a test flight near the eruption point.

"How much longer before we'll arrive?" The voice was firm and crisp, commanding the order with clear intonation that cut through the din of the bustling deck. The speaker's figure stood draped in an overcoat that barely concealed the crimson dress beneath, hugging her form with elegance that hugged her alluring hourglass frame. Her fingers drummed the railings before her as amber eyes narrowed from examining the incoming reports.

"Estimated time of arrival is three to four hours, ma'am," came the efficient response from the officer at her side. "We have taken measures to cut time by diverting three flights towards England and Korea from our departure. Based on fuel consumption and altitude. We shouldn't worry about running out of energy until reaching Japan's border." The executive officer continued dutifully after a silent nod.

The captain's finger stopped tapping for a moment as she processed the report, her mind calculating the risks. Instinct won against her accumulated knowledge to follow the protocol in current conundrum.

"Increase the engine output, how fast are we going?"

"Three hundred knots, Ma'am. Should we decrease the-"

"No, double it."

"Double?" The officer raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "Ma'am, shouldn't we conserve energy for when we reach the target? If we push the reactors too hard, it might—"

"It's an outbreak," The Captain, Murata Himeko, remarked calmly.

"As you said major, It'll be wise to preserve our reserves for the upcoming skirmish instead of wasting energy."

"An eruption of this magnitude doesn't care about our energy reserves," the captain cut her off, her airy voice was firm as steel. "Every second we waste puts the operation at risk. If we don't reach the point in time, there may not be anything left to fight." Himeko was on the verge of releasing a scathing remark, but professionalism prevented her lip from running rampant.

"But ma'am, maintaining that output will—" The officer began again, her reluctance clear despite the duty-bound professionalism in her tone.

"There should be plenty of raw Honkai residue in the air to equal fourteen years ago. There haven't been any calls for evacuation, have there?" The silence said it all, and with a click of her tongue, the captain pushed her palm against the guardrail.

"Switch all of our exhaust ports to the solar panel battery and leave it on charging mode! Get the speed up in under ten minutes!"

"Contrary, we should save as much energy as possible." the aid pressed while fixing her glasses. Even though she's inwardly agreeing with the major's command after processing the information.

"It wouldn't be of any use if the threat had departed the area had we been drawling around, so get the speed up!" Her order was properly carried out this time. Any further retort was repressed as the officer reluctantly nodded.

[All systems operational, Order resumed] the computerized voice reported monotonously. The roaring engines had not ceased, but their speed had noticeably increased, the clouds parting faster ahead of them now.

"We should remain prudent, Major." The raven-haired specs reminded dutifully in a softer reminder. Hiding a sigh under her breath.

"At this rate, the ship's reserves might not last long enough to activate emergency shields. We'll need the barrier if the corruption from the Herrscher's awakening affects the propellers or antimatter shields." She attempts to persuade her superior to see reason.

"So?" Himeko shrugged.

"Hyperion has three nuclear shield generators locked under a titanium bunker three walls away from the main hull, we have at least six on hand and each layer are hard enough to shield from bombs that could detonate a city, tell me something I don't know Xo," the flippant answer wasn't sounding sneering or prideful, only stating the facts.

"I'd like to see if that slimy monster with poking needles, slimy tentacles, and parted lips try infiltrating our defense before we disintegrate it. No one could get away after ruining my date night and get away with it…" Her grin is outright predatory with cracking noise coming from her outstretched palm.

"Your imagination is... certainly one-of-a-kind, Major." The staff around them blanched at the unpleasant image, as if a typical Honkai beast didn't sound bad enough.

"Hush, I can tell what book you read behind the curtain. Don't deny it dear." Obviously, the splutter of denial went ignored.

"What? Prove me wrong, I've seen you holding-"

"Perhaps… if our current situation were less critical, we could revisit this conversation, Major?" the officer offered the reply a bit too fast with tensed blush, and less than inclined to open that can of worms when there are others listening to the conversation. She's not having everyone gossiping about her reading material thanks to her boss dang it.

"Aaah… Whatever, I'm done listening. Starboard three degrees to the left! Keep the engine running and track where the leftover energy is!" Himeko commanded again.

"Start the backup thruster! We're cutting down an hour to the estimated arrival and everyone should be prepared for battle, if any of you dare to slack off then I'll train you like a cadet fresh out of barracks again, did you hear me?!" Her flowing hair was flicked to the side as the other hand smacked against the control panel.

"Yes Ma'am!" The chorus of operators' shout doubled their working speed. The parting of clouds became faster to the eyes as Himeko analyzed the reports in case she found some missing details.

"Navigator! Sitrep!" It didn't take long for a digital screen to appear on the primary screen instead of the holo tablet she's been holding.

"Detecting coordinates... zooming in on the main monitor." The navigator's voice was crisp and efficient as data rapidly filled the screen. "External connection severed; switching to satellite capture. Corruption rate is increasing by 0.307% per hour. Requesting permission to notify local governments near the blast radius, ma'am."

"Granted! Show me the feed!" Himeko's voice crackled with impatience, her fingers tapping out a rapid rhythm against the guardrail. A bar graph appeared, the ever-growing threat of the Honkai visibly increasing across the map.

"Not too big… but not too small for an outbreak either… I have a bad feeling about this." her tapping fingers only intensifies. As if on cue, an operator's voice rang out with an urgent report.

"Major! There's an update from the patrol team in Chiba! They're asking headquarters for reinforcement containing the virus from spreading out from the city!"

"And they only inform us now?!" Himeko slammed her palm into the metallic rail with a snarling visage.

"They've blocked off the surrounding areas," the operator continued nervously, "but there's only a handful of B and a few A-rank Valkyries in the vicinity! They're reporting it's under control, but the containment gate was breached by higher-ranked beasts, and now they're asking for immediate backup." But pushed on and finished the relay while swallowing a gulp.

If Himeko was restless before. She's downright apoplectic now.

"Those idiots…" The officer sighed under her breath, sharing her captain's indignation. HQ allowed them to secure the perimeters, but without additional personnel positioned as back-up for evacuation or search teams?

"Prepare for the containment protocol! Notify all units within a two-hundred-meter radius to reinforce their positions and balance the troop numbers. Those beasts could appear anywhere as long as there's corruption in the air!" Himeko's voice echoed with firm authority as the order was given. A holographic map of Nagazora materialized before her, its detailed 3D model hovering in the air, casting eerie reflections across the command deck.

Himeko's gaze sharpened, focused intently on the city's layout. Her mind raced through the data Hyperion's systems had gathered. ME Corp's guards and special forces should have been mobilized, even after Raiden Ryoma's scandal months earlier. But now, with so little actionable intelligence, it felt like they were grasping at straws.

As if the lack of information wasn't enough, the red dot indicating the area with the highest rate of Honkai beast spawning is alarming. At the current rate, the city could be overrun in mere hours. If the aberrant magnetic fluctuation in the water levels weren't stabilized, Nagazora would drown in both a flood and a surge of Honkai corruption. None of them sound preferable in the slightest.

If the graphs are to be believed. The third Herrscher was supposed to represent lightning, judging from the nature of the erratic Honkai energy in the area.

The vigiles and normal zombies would be a headache to clean up as well. Himeko could just fire the Railgun numerous times and be done with it after gathering the zombies to a single location, but such an idea will have to wait as there are larger fish to catch.

"Major! Another reading!" An emergency call from the same navigator tore Himeko from her musing.

"Is it the Herrscher?" She piqued quickly. Did she already detect the battleship from that distance?

"No! It's a portal! And it's not the normal one!" No one breathed. "It's… It's three times the size of a normal Honkai rift when they tear into our reality! It's almost like a nascent singularity, enough to manifest two Emperor classes!" Himeko's fists crashed onto the metal rail. Creating a deep dent as the noise rang through the silenced control room.

"What?!" her sentiment was shared by the others.

"Location! Now!"

"Directly above Chiba Academy and Chou Park! Two blocks from ME Corp, right where the eruption was detected!" The operator's voice shook as her fingers flew across the console.

"And… there's... no sign of the Honkai beast going in or out from it…?" her last statement voiced in wavering conviction, as if swallowing a gulp. Himeko dreaded that bit of information.

"What do you get from it?..."

"... Unknown ma'am, No movement in or out... but we do have this." The screen flickered as a pixelated, distorted video feed appeared, showing a black oval-like rift hanging ominously over Nagazora's tallest towers, fringed in a sickly orange glow. The color and the size of that portal alarmed everyone to shocked stillness.

Two hazy figures hovered just beneath the dark rift. The distortion from the Honkai eruption had fried most of the surveillance equipment, leaving the details of the figures obscured. All that could be made out were two shapes, one predominantly white and the other tinged pink, plummeting to the ground before the portal closed abruptly, vanishing without a trace.

Himeko's eyes narrowed.

The implication is clear. The eruption causes a portal to manifest… or the other way around.

"How long was it?!"

"Just after Hyperion's departure from Hong Kong. Approximately two to three seconds after the pulse engulfed the city."

"…Any classifications we need to be aware of?" The lieutenant, with a tone of growing anxiety, chimed in from behind. The very idea sent a cold wave through the room. It shouldn't be… That's why they lose one of their strongest Valkyries. She shouldn't be here after 'that'.

"So far… no further readings. The portal closed as quickly as it opened."

The silence hung heavy in the air.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"You can tell, right?" Himeko could only wish they're wrong.

"Theresa is going to throw a hissy fit…" Himeko sweeps her bangs back in growing frustration.

What's worse than an outbreak?...

Birth of a new Herrscher?

Or Sirin somehow revived herself for round two?