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The Everlasting Blight

KeihatsuZero
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Clyde wakes naked in an alley, surrounded by the metallic stench of decay and the echoes of a city in distress with a plague that has twisted humanity, turning people into coral statues, shrieking lunatics, or grotesque abominations. But Clyde is no ordinary survivor. He was once a native of this broken world, killed long ago and mysteriously reincarnated in ours. He lived a normal life up until an unnatural death dragged him back. Now, something inside his mind is fractured: a system that speaks in riddles and pain. A guide. A curse. A threat. Now, he is an anomaly---alive when he shouldn’t be and marked by powers he doesn't understand, and hunted by forces he hasn't met. In a city sealed under quarantine, choked by fear and corruption, he must survive long, uncover the truth why he's here, and confront the madness clawing at his sanity. Two lives. One broken world. And an apocalypse that’s only just beginning.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Nude Survival

The pitch darkness and the quiet all around seemed to press in, his chest quickly ascending and descending with ragged breaths. Instinctively, he opened his eyes. The first sensation was the cold. It sank into his bare skin, a brutal, biting chill that stole his breath. He instinctively tried to curl into himself, but the ground was rough, damp stone digging into his hip and shoulder. Discarded items surrounded him, shapeless lumps in the gloom.

…What am I doing here?!

What's going on?!

He groaned, the sound raw and alien, unfamiliar even to himself.

Above, a bruised sliver of orange-red sky peaked between the oppressive shadows of alley walls, a sunless dawn hinting at something thick and unnatural obscuring the heavens. Then the smell hit him. Not just the stale, familiar stink of city refuse, but something else beneath it, insidious and cloying.

A metallic sweetness, like coppery blood mixed with overripe fruit, that clawed its way into his nostrils and settled deep in his chest. It tasted like dread. Pure, unfiltered dread.

"Argh!" He pushed himself up, muscles screaming, limbs heavy and unresponsive.

"Why is it so cold?" He shivered.

"And why am I so…" He looked down.

"Naked?" A choked gasp hitched in his throat.

He was buck naked on grimy pavement, his body stark and vulnerable in the faint, unsettling light. Panic, cold and sharp, began to prickle his skin.

"How in God's name did I get here?" He scoffed, slouching over and trying to warm himself.

Suddenly, a shimmer pulsed at the edge of his vision, translucent text forming out of thin air.

[WARNING: IMMEDIATE DANGER. SEEK COVER.]

What?

He blinked furiously, rubbing at his eyes with a shaking hand.

What the hell is this?!

Immediate danger?!

Pfft…

No…

I might just be seeing things.

He shook his head, trying to clear the image, but the words hovered there, persistent, glowing faintly against the grim backdrop.

THUD THUD THUD

Before he could fully rationalize the impossible words, the distinct sound of heavy boots echoed from the alley's mouth. Voices, gruff and strained, followed. "Clear out!"

"If you see any stragglers, report 'em!"

"Or even better…"

"Just put them out of their misery." The gruff voice of an older man commanded.

…Who are they?!

Stragglers?

Am I safe?

He froze, every muscle tensing.

The words in his vision pulsed, bolder, more insistent now:

[DANGER APPROACHING. CONCEALMENT REQUIRED. NOW!]

A searing, white-hot spike of pain lanced through his skull, a vicious jab that made his teeth clench. It wasn't just a headache; it felt like a physical blow, something forcing its way into his mind, overriding his terror-struck paralysis. His body lurched, propelled by an unseen command, scrambling back, desperate.

He lunged for a stack of mildewed crates, old and reeking, contorting his naked body behind them. He pressed himself against the rough wood, shivering, trying to disappear.

The people then came, three in number. Large and tall, their bodies protected by what seemed like a mixture of wooden and metal plates, they held weapons: guns, swords, and one just a wooden club.

"Damn… Wonder why we're searching alleys…"

"I wanna get right into the action, y'know." One of the men said, prancing around like a boxer preparing for a fight.

"The action's not all that, man…" An older man replied, pausing.

"That very action you're looking for can kill."

The boy's mind then screamed against the intrusion, against the pain. A sickening metallic clang. He'd nudged a loose piece of scrap metal with his foot.

"What was that?" One of the men barked, moving closer now.

"Check the rubble." another said, subtly gesturing towards a pile of trash.

Heavy footsteps got closer and closer in the narrow space, slow and deliberate. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.

"There! By the crates!" The man shouted.

The words in his mind erupted, no longer hazy, but sharp, urgent, hammering against his skull:

[RUN! NOW! GET OUT!]

The pain flared, a debilitating throb that turned his vision red.

"Bloody hell?!" One of the men gasped, momentarily speechless, staring at his nakedness.

"What're you doing?!"

"It's one of them!" Another came closer and bellowed, disgust plain in his voice. His body moved, unbidden, exploding from behind the crates.

"Blight-crazed fool!"

"Don't let him get out!" The man shouted, pointing his gun.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The man fired his gun as he bolted, a stark naked blur of raw panic, sprinting down the grimy, early evening street. The group of men roared behind him, but he barely registered their shouts, his entire being focused on the single, overriding command to run.

As he ran, the street was littered with tiny wrappers, scraps of paper that flew in the stale wind. People all around, their clothes dirty and some just wearing rags, stopped to stare at the commotion, their whispers blurring into a chilling chorus:

"Just another Blighted, ain't he?"

"Blight's got his mind, poor sod."

"Let him go, don't touch him!"

The men gave chase for a short, furious burst, but the public's immediate aversion, their grim dismissal of him as "Blight-crazed," made them hesitate, unwilling to risk close contact. Their shouts faded into the general cacophony of the awakening city, swallowed by the cold air.

*Huff…* *Huff…* *Huff…*

He ran until his lungs burned, his throat raw, the unforgiving grit of the street tearing at his bare feet. He stumbled past boarded-up shops with signs written in a language he couldn't understand. He also passed silent, empty houses, past shrouded figures who watched with a mixture of fear and pity.

He ran until his legs threatened to give out, finally collapsing, a gasping, shivering wreck, against the damp wall of a house. His body convulsed with silent sobs of terror and exhaustion. The splitting headache then seemed to cool, leaving a dull throb.

He noticed the people all around looking at him, running and shouting away, while some were too afraid to even move. Shame immediately dawned on him as he tried to cover his private bits.

No…This isn't real…

It couldn't be…

"H-Help…"

"Help me…"

"Please…" He softly said, dragging his sore feet, but they all stepped back, some even running away and shouting.

A quiet creak of a door. He flinched, tensing, expecting another guard, more blows. But a small, kind face peered out. An older woman, her eyes tired but with a flicker of compassion, looked at him.

"Get in." She whispered, her voice surprisingly gentle.

W-Wha…

He slowly registered her presence.

Who is she…?

Why should I…?

[GET INTO THE WOMAN'S HOUSE. REST. RECOVER.]

The hazy panel appeared before him again, inciting a headache, but it was concentrated in the part of his head that faced the woman.

"Quickly, before they come!" She shouted, hurrying her hands.

He stumbled inside, barely comprehending, and she shut the door quietly behind him. The small room was dim, smelling of old wood and something vaguely comforting, like baking bread. She pressed a rough, oversized tunic into his hands, then a piece of stale bread.

"Here." She urged softly.

"Put these on. I can't stand to keep seeing you naked." She said, shifting her face away.

He just sat down in confusion, as if he was just recently born.

"And eat. You look half-dead." She added.

He pulled on the tunic.

Why is she nice to me…?

What's just happening?

The coarse fabric scratching his skin, but the warmth was immediate, a small comfort in the chaos.

C-Can I even trust her…

He thought, holding the bread in his hand. But soon after his stomach grumbled, and he had no choice anymore.

He devoured the bread, barely tasting it, his hands shaking. Just as he finished, a heavy knock rattled the door.

"Hey! Open the door!" The man's familiar voice roared.

His blood ran cold. He looked at the woman, fear tightening his chest. She simply gave him a reassuring nod, her expression calm.

"Stay here." She murmured, pointing behind her chair, which he then rushed behind.

She then opened the door.

"Please, can you stop knocking on the door as if I'm one of the Lassan people?!" She demanded.

"Do you want to break it?"

"I can't afford to get another door." She said.

L-Lassan?

He thought, shivering.

The man just scoffed, peeking inside the house, his gun ready for action.

"Seen a naked boy running through here?" His gruff voice demanded.

The woman's voice was even, steady. "Naked boy?"

"Oh, I did see him…"

"He looked like he needed help." She softly said.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"Look, no need for all these old lady bullshit!"

"He's a possible Blighted, which means posing a threat to us all."

"And I'm not sure if you've noticed but…"

"We can't afford more of that right now." He rudely said, forcing himself through and looking all around.

"Hey! You just can't barge into my house!" She rushed at the man, slamming him on his back.

Then---

WHACK!

The man hit the lady, forcing her back and onto the ground where she groaned. The boy just gulped as he watched, the woman looking at him from the ground, slightly gesturing not to do anything.

"Now…Did you help him?"

"Or do you know where he might've went?" He asked.

"No, sir." She muttered, sniveling.

"But I saw him going straight down." She said, trying to get up.

A moment of tense silence. Then, a frustrated grumble. "Alright. Keep your eyes open."

"They may not turn."

"But they are the most dangerous." The heavy footsteps receded, fading into the sounds of the street.

She fully stood up and limped towards the door, closing it. "You can come out now."

A faint, sad smile on her lips. "You're safe for now, child."

He slumped against the wall, the bread turning to ash in his mouth.

Safe?

I'm naked in a strange, terrifying place I know nothing about…

Not to mention that now I'm even being hunted for what I don't know I did.

He thought, a screaming headache in his head, and a certain thick feeling in the air. He clutched his head, trying to make sense of it all.

What in the world is happening?

And how in the hell did I get here?

---The end of chapter 1---