Thirty minutes had slowly drifted away in the burning village.
That much time had been enough for most of the villagers to make a successful exit, thus, the noise within the chaotic vicinity had reduced significantly, now, mostly the cackling of flames and the wails of the few helpless could be heard.
Currently rushing through the street were two figures, or rather three. Draven, dragging the hand of an old man whose attire had been tattered by the heat and carrying an infant in his free hand, could be seen making his way amidst the flames toward the exit.
"Move faster gramps." Draven turned to the old man and urged in an impatient tone.
"My legs are feeble." The old man responded in a weak tone. "I appreciate your kindness but you can leave me behind, save the little one. A man my age shouldn't be afraid to die."
"Kindness?" Draven repeated and chuckled sarcastically. "Please, just keep moving, gramps."
Reluctantly, the old man gave up on convincing Draven and continued moving.
About three uncomfortable minutes later, they reached the empty exit of the village.
Draven handed the crying baby over to the old man and asked him to seek the other villagers who had gone to the stream. Before the old man could respond, Draven had already disappeared into the chaos.
He simply stood and stare the chaos for a few seconds. I have not seen that face before, he must be a wandering kind soul. He thought and then proceeded with the crying baby in the direction of the stream.
At the same time, Draven surveyed his surrounding for more survivors as he ran deeper. Most of the houses in these region had already had already been reduced to nothing but ashes, specially the wooden cottages. Even if there were survivors in there before, they would've already died.
Nonetheless, he pushed forward despite the searing heat cooking his skin from both sides. He moved on the streets and avoided going closer to the burning houses except there were live survivors inside them.
So far, he had rescued a total of eleven trapped villagers, mostly babies who were left behind by the panicking adults. He deduced that number was enough to mark his first sub-mission successful.
Now he was left with the second sub-mission, he simply had to survive the given time to pass the main mission.
"But with the current state of the fire and the time left, finding the cause of the outbreak is nigh impossible." Draven muttered.
"Maybe the second sub-mission is just an extra addition to make the survival mission more difficult."
Draven suddenly paused. He recollected his situation gradually and his eyes slowly widened.
"The influx of missing people in the past six months, if my deduction is current, they should be tied to this mysterious system. Come to think of it, my candidate tag was eighteen thousand something. Meaning there were eighteen thousand other people before me."
As he pieced together his experience and the situation across the world, the truth became plain — Those missing people are victims of this survival system who had died in their missions and he would be just another one of them if he doesn't survive.
Draven felt a chill run down his spine. Death? Go missing? Even though he found living boring and stressful, he could not afford to die, not this young and not without exalting revenge on those bastards that made his life miserable.
Draven was jogging down half absentmindedly through the burning streets as those thoughts blossomed. Only the heat constantly searing his skin reminded him of his situation.
WAAA!
The wailing of an infant erupted from the burnt houses behind him, forcing him out of his thoughts.
"A baby is still alive in this area?" Draven was confused. He had previously concluded that no one would've survived the current state. Guess he was wrong.
He heaved a sigh, shoving his worrisome thoughts behind him. He tried seeking the direction of the baby using its cries and ran towards it.
As he ran, all of a sudden, a sharp stinging pain was felt on his neck.
Immediately the pain appeared, he felt all his strength gradually leaving. His sight and other sensory organs began to weaken as well. He felt weak and dizzy.
Weakened and disoriented, Draven felt the world spinning around him and soon he found himself laying on the ground, staring at the night sky.
"W-what is happening.." he stammered, not even the strength to speak was present.
Sounds around him had been reduced to faint murmurs. He could no longer hear the baby crying. Instead he heard faint of people or rather beasts laughing. He also heard the sound of multiple footsteps approaching him.
His body trembled uncontrollably. His instincts screamed at him to move, to fight, to resist—yet his limbs refused to obey. His heart hammered in his chest, not from exertion but from a raw, primal fear he hadn't felt in years.
The footsteps and beastial laughter drew nearer and nearer until they were just a inches from Draven.
Because of his blurred vision, Draven found it impossible to make out their appearance. Nonetheless, he could tell by their blurred silhouette, that they were not humans.
'What are they?' Were his last thought as he suddenly blacked out.