The city reeked of burnt flesh and ash.
Kai walked through the wasteland that used to be Sector 9—boots crunching glass, stepping over scattered limbs and charred bones. What was once a lively stretch of apartments, shops, and traffic lights was now a canvas of death. Buildings stood half-eaten, their metal skeletons exposed like ribs of dead beasts. The wind carried a stench so foul it made his stomach churn.
Missiles had struck last night. Not military ones—these were makeshift, desperate, likely fired by rogue groups or collapsing city factions. Entire blocks had been leveled. Blood pooled in the cracked pavement like oil.
Ahead, the ground dipped where an apartment had collapsed in on itself. A pile of concrete, tangled wires, and crushed bodies. Flies buzzed hungrily. One half-dead man groaned, pinned under a steel beam, his lower half no longer recognizable. He screamed—but it wasn't pain. It was the scream of someone whose soul had already left.
Kai stopped for a second. Not in fear. In quiet rage.
Then he ran forward.
There were people—alive—shouting, digging, crying. Survivors working like ants, desperately pulling rubble away with bleeding hands. Some were trying to lift slabs off trapped bodies. Others sat, wailing over corpses that had already gone cold.
He didn't ask. He just joined them.
"We need help over here!" a young woman yelled.
Kai sprinted over. A child's arm was sticking out from a crack in the debris. Breathing—barely. Without hesitation, he shoved himself into the crawlspace, metal and dust scraping his skin, until he could wrap his arms around the small body and drag them out.
The girl coughed. Alive.
He carried her to a shaded patch where someone had made a triage zone. There were maybe five others there—most half-conscious, one already blue.
And then a voice hit him.
"...Kai?"
He turned slowly, unsure if the smoke had started to make him hallucinate.
There she was.
Riko Tanaka.
Her face was smeared with dirt, a shallow cut ran across her cheek, and her jacket was torn at the sleeve. But those eyes—those fierce, intelligent eyes—were the same.
"…Riko," he breathed. "You're still—"
"Alive?" She smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. Barely."
He wanted to hug her. But the moment didn't allow for that.
"We're helping dig out the northeast side. Come with me."
She didn't wait for a reply. Kai followed her around the collapsed side of the building where a group had formed—tired but determined.
Sergeant Aarav Devkar stood first. Tall, thick-set, with a permanent scowl and blood-crusted bandages wrapped around one arm. His military vest looked like it had been salvaged from a corpse.
"New guy?" Aarav grunted.
"Old friend," Riko said. "He's capable."
Aarav grunted again but didn't argue.
Next was Lina Moreno, hair tied in a knot, eyes sharp and dry despite the dust. She wore a tattered city surveyor's jacket and had a map wrapped around her wrist like a tattoo. Her hands were black with dirt.
"This whole block's unstable," she muttered. "We've lost five trying to get inside the east stairwell. It's caved in."
Then the twins: Renji and Tara. Both wielded rusted knives and old pistols. Tara's jacket was soaked at the sleeve—not hers, Kai realized. Someone else's blood. Renji's expression flickered with too much anger to be normal.
Kai looked around. And truly saw it.
Bodies. Some still twitching under the rubble. Others burned beyond recognition. A man was stuck in the gap between two floors, his spine bent backwards in a way no human body could survive. His eyes were open.
One woman clawed at her own chest, screaming about bugs under her skin—until Lina sedated her with a sharp jab of morphine.
This wasn't a rescue. This was a battlefield graveyard with survivors who refused to die.
Kai took a breath. "Where do I start?"
Riko pointed to the western wall. "Three children and a teacher were seen going into that part before the collapse. The roof might give in, so we need to reinforce it."
He nodded. They worked for hours.
Steel beams were shifted using car jacks and leftover table legs. Makeshift pulleys helped lift slabs. Every scream beneath the rubble made Kai's gut twist. Sometimes they pulled people out. Sometimes they pulled out pieces.
Once, they found a man holding two toddlers—all three crushed to death. No one spoke for ten minutes after that.
By nightfall, the fires from nearby districts reflected in the sky like a blood-red ceiling. They made camp near the edge of the wreckage.
Kai sat beside Riko. She handed him a can of beans. Neither was hungry.
"You saved that girl earlier," she said, voice soft. "That's three today."
"How long have you been with them?"
"Since day three. Found them while running from a horde in Old Sector."
Kai looked at the group—each scarred in their own way. Aarav stood guard with his useless arm hanging. Lina kept tracing maps, Tara was cleaning blood off her knife, and Renji was stitching his leg.
"They trust you," Kai said.
"I don't know if that matters anymore."
"It does."
She looked at him, lips tight. "We save who we can. We bury the rest. That's the rhythm now."
He nodded.
From the dark horizon, a scream echoed—a guttural, wet sound.
mutants still hunting.
But for now, surrounded by strangers and blood, Kai had found something familiar.
And maybe, just maybe, something worth fighting for.