The first scream pierced the morning haze like a jagged knife. Ren jolted awake, instincts snapping into action. He was on his feet in seconds, hand on the makeshift blade strapped to his thigh.
Ayaka was already by the entrance, pulse racing. "That wasn't human."
Ren nodded grimly. "No. It's begun."
The early fall had come—faster than he remembered. The Collapse would no longer wait.
---
They stood on the platform edge, gazing down the track line. Smoke curled up in the distance, not from a fire, but from an explosion—likely a gas main rupturing during one of the early riots.
"Supplies stay packed. We don't touch anything unless we're resettling," Ren ordered. "We scout, extract, and return."
Ayaka nodded. Her hand twitched slightly, sparks of her new power itching to be used. She could feel the hum in her veins—an electrical tension begging for release.
Ren handed her a shard-gun he'd repaired the night before. "Nonlethal against bigger threats. Don't miss."
---
They exited the station through the side tunnel and merged into a silent street. The buildings were half-collapsed, windows blown out. A nearby storefront—once a small clinic—was smeared with blood.
But no bodies.
"Ren…" Ayaka whispered.
He crouched, inspecting the floor. The blood trails were erratic. Drag marks. "Too clean. Something took them."
As they moved forward, a distant chittering echoed. The kind of noise made by no sane creature.
Then they saw it.
A malformed figure, hunched and twitching, staggered from behind a vending machine. Its limbs were too long. Its skin: mottled gray and black, pulsing with veins that glowed faintly red.
"First variant," Ren muttered. "We're late."
The creature sniffed the air, then screamed—a bone-splitting shriek that made Ayaka's knees buckle.
Ren didn't hesitate. "Engage!"
Ayaka aimed and fired—the shard-gun whined and spat a burst of kinetic darts. Most bounced off its hide.
Ren leapt in, slicing at the creature's knee with precision. It stumbled, just enough for Ayaka to summon the surge within her—crackling arcs of force lancing from her palms. She aimed low, striking the open wound.
The beast convulsed.
Then collapsed.
---
Panting, Ayaka stared at the body. "What the hell was that?"
Ren wiped his blade clean. "A scout. The real swarm comes after dark."
She looked pale. "We're not ready."
"We will be. But first, we need firepower."
---
They entered the remains of a police armory nearby. Most weapons were gone—either looted or destroyed. But Ren headed for a wall panel behind the command desk. He peeled it away to reveal a hidden crate.
Inside: an unregistered pulse rifle, a prototype from the old government's final days. Ren's fingers lingered on the weapon.
"I died trying to find one of these," he muttered.
Ayaka tilted her head. "What?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Let's go."
---
By nightfall, they'd returned. The subway station's outer entrance was now partially barricaded with scrap metal and tripwires. Ren had added proximity alarms using salvaged radios.
Ayaka finally spoke. "How did you know about the prototype? The Omura warehouse? The scanner codes?"
Ren turned slowly. The firelight cast harsh shadows across his face. "Because I've made every mistake possible. This time, I won't."
She stared at him. "You're not just some survivor, are you?"
"No," he admitted. "But you don't need to know everything yet. Just trust me when I say we have very little time before the world ends again."
Outside, in the distance, a red moon rose through a broken sky. And with it, the sound of thousands of feet dragging across concrete.
The blood horizon had come.