The island was quiet the next morning, except for the hum of drones circling lazily in the sky. The blood moon still glowed faintly, but within the protective barrier, sunlight filtered down soft and warm.
For the first time since the apocalypse began, the island felt alive. Survivors moved about cautiously, adjusting to their new reality. Children played near the central courtyard under the watchful eyes of Reina's toy guardians, who kept themselves shrunk down but still vigilant.
Kane stood at the balcony of the main hall, arms crossed, surveying the settlement. His gaze swept over the newcomers, noting their expressions—relief, hope, and in some cases, disbelief. They were alive when so many others were not.
Behind him, Selene approached with her clipboard. "They've been given food, quarters, and water. Fear is still heavy, but hope is stronger." She glanced at Kane. "The system notifications also hit them all last night. They're… shaken."
Kane turned. "Professions?"
Selene nodded. "Yes. Different ones. Some of them don't understand what it means."
Kane exhaled slowly. "Then we explain."
Later that day, everyone assembled in the courtyard. Survivors, fighters, specialists—everyone stood together under the glow of the barrier. The system's faint runes flickered above them, invisible to the eye yet felt in the air.
Kane stepped forward. "You've all received quests. Professions. Some of you are scared. Some of you are confused. But listen well—professions are the system's way of giving us purpose. They're not random. They're tied to your life, your skills, and the struggles you've endured."
He motioned toward the group of twenty fighters who had returned with Lena and Maya. "You've already seen how they've changed. Their quests are shaping them into what they've always been meant to be. Let's break it down."
One fighter, tall and broad-shouldered, stepped forward. His voice rang out with pride. "My quest is [Shieldbearer]. It demands I protect comrades against overwhelming odds. If I succeed, I'll gain defensive skills no ordinary human could."
Another, wiry and sharp-eyed, spoke next. "[Sniper]. My quest is to slay enemies from afar without ever being touched. Precision and patience."
Maya added in from the side, "Most combat professions are straightforward: fight, endure, protect. They'll enhance your natural talents in battle and grant skills to make you stronger."
Next came one of the younger survivors, trembling slightly as she spoke. "I… I was a farmer before this. The system gave me [Agricultural Overseer]. My quest is to cultivate crops under apocalypse conditions. It feels impossible, but—" she glanced at Amara, who smiled gently, "—I'm not alone."
A boy followed. "I was a mechanic's apprentice. My quest is [Forge Engineer]. I have to rebuild something from scratch—a machine, a weapon, anything—and make it better than before."
Nadia stepped forward, adding, "Support professions aren't about killing. They're about building, healing, creating. They make survival possible when the fighters are on the frontlines."
As murmurs spread among the crowd, Kane raised his hand for silence.
"The rules are simple," he said firmly. "Professions lock progression beyond Level 10. If you don't complete your quest, you stagnate. But once you complete it, you gain stat bonuses, unique skills, and new ways to fight—or to build. Your strength won't just be yours. It will be the island's."
The survivors shifted, uncertainty in their eyes slowly melting into determination.
Kane's gaze swept over them, hard but steady. "Don't fear the quests. Face them. Every profession is another pillar holding up our future."
As the meeting broke, Reina tugged at Kane's coat. "Brother… they're all smiling now."
Kane looked around. It was true—laughter had begun to ripple among the children, the specialists spoke animatedly with the new recruits, and even the tired survivors allowed themselves to hope.
For this brief moment, the apocalypse seemed far away.
But Kane knew better. This was just the eye of the storm.
Kane lingered by the map table in the command hall, the glow of tactical drones illuminating the drawn-out routes of the ruined city. His finger tapped against the parchment, stopping at the red circle he'd drawn earlier.
The college library.
Dead center in the city.
His jaw tightened. "It's a nest waiting to happen," he muttered. "Mutants swarm toward dense zones… and boss-class variants tend to linger where humans tried to hold out."
Beta floated by his side, projecting a faint holo-feed of the surrounding terrain. Dozens of dots flickered on the edges of the city, representing movement—each one a mutant.
Kane exhaled sharply and ordered, "Deploy six scout drones. Full stealth mode. Confirm numbers. Priority: library and college sector. Report any boss-class signatures immediately."
The drones whirred to life, wings folding in tight before darting into the sky like silver arrows.
Behind him, Maya stepped forward. "Kane…" her tone hesitant. "Do you really want to risk it? Those twins you mentioned—they might already be gone. The library is crawling with danger. Even with drones and our current forces, it won't be easy."
Kane didn't turn. His gaze stayed locked on the map. "I promised."
Maya blinked.
Kane finally looked at her, his eyes hard. "A dying woman asked me to save her sisters. She was bleeding out in my arms when she said it. I won't dishonor that. Not in this world—not ever. If I break my word now, what worth do I have as a man?"
The room fell silent.
Even Lena, who had entered quietly, lowered her gaze with respect.
"Then we'll prepare," she said softly.
Kane nodded. "We'll go only when the scouts confirm. In the meantime—strengthen the island. Everyone must push forward with their profession quests. No dead weight when we enter the city center."
The next two days became a rush of activity. Survivors embraced their new quests, guided by Kane's strict order: progress or perish.
Mira, the young farmer, began testing soil samples within the island's fertile plots. The quest text guided her:
[Quest Progress: Cultivate 1 crop adapted to the Blood Moon environment.]
With every attempt, her connection to the land deepened. Her profession, [Agricultural Overseer], granted her passive boosts:
+1 Vitality per level
+1 Spirit per level
Unlock: Soil Sense – instinctive awareness of soil quality and mana traces.
Soon, green sprouts broke through cursed earth, glowing faintly under the crimson moonlight. Survivors gathered in awe as life returned to the soil.
Tobias, the mechanic's apprentice, worked tirelessly in the forge with Nadia. Sparks flew as he reforged scavenged scrap into reinforced plating for drones. His quest pulsed with progress:
[Quest Progress: Forge 3 enhanced items with improved durability.]
His profession, [Forge Engineer], strengthened him physically:
+2 Strength per level
+1 Endurance per level
Unlock: Metal Affinity I – increased efficiency when shaping alloys.
The first set of reinforced drone plating doubled their survivability. Beta approved immediately, calculating a 15% durability increase across strike drones.
Selene's group of fighters also advanced. One, the Shieldbearer, completed his trial by standing in the sparring ring against three simultaneous attackers. When he refused to fall, the system rewarded him with:
Passive: Iron Wall – reduces incoming damage by 10% when protecting allies.
Stat boosts: +3 Endurance, +1 Strength per level.
Another, the Sniper, successfully shot three moving drones out of the air from 200 meters away. His profession granted:
Skill: Eagle Shot – increased accuracy against moving targets.
+2 Dexterity, +1 Perception per level.
Kane watched all this unfold from the watchtower. Survivors who once cowered in fear now pushed themselves with fire in their eyes. Every completed quest meant stronger hands, sharper blades, more reliable defenses.
"This is good," Kane murmured, watching Tobias and Nadia adjust plating on a drone. "By the time we move for the college… we'll have gained the edge we need."
Yet his mind returned again and again to the promise he made. The twins—two girls trapped in that nightmare city, waiting without knowing if anyone was coming.
He clenched his fists. I'll bring them back. No matter what waits inside.
As if to echo his determination, the scout drones' distant signals pinged faintly across the map. Data packets streamed back, slowly forming images of the ruined cityscape.
Kane leaned forward, eyes narrowing as the holo-feed revealed the outer streets crawling with twisted shapes.
And in the library's shadowed heart…
The system pulsed a warning.
[Boss Signature Detected]
The holo-feed sharpened as the scout drones circled higher, their stealth systems masking the whir of their rotors. At first, it looked like nothing but rubble—shattered bookshelves, toppled masonry, and burned banners of the old college. But then… movement.
The image refocused.
A thing lumbered across the cracked marble steps of the library.
It had once been human. Perhaps even several humans. Its skin hung in grotesque sheets of pallid gray, stitched together by black sinew that pulsed like living rope. Where its arms should have been, a cluster of fused limbs protruded, each one half-bone, half-muscle, ending in claws that scraped the stone floor. Its face—or what remained of it—was a collage of torn visages, mouths muttering in broken unison, eyes opening and closing in random intervals.
The drone scanned further.
[Classification: Abomination Class – "Flesh Congregant"]Physiology:– Fused humanoid biomass, unstable mana core.– Regenerative properties accelerated by consuming flesh.– Multi-limb strikes; increased reach.– Emits pheromone signal that attracts nearby lesser mutants.
Warning: Target confirmed as Boss-tier. Estimated combat level range: 15–17.
Kane's lips tightened into a thin line. The image burned into his mind—the kind of monster that wasn't born, but assembled.
Reina, who had been at his side, looked away quickly, covering her mouth. "Brother… it's disgusting."
Kane reached out, resting a firm hand on her head. "Then don't look. You'll only need to be strong when the time comes."
He dismissed the feed and turned to the gathered leaders. Lena and Maya were already waiting. Behind them, ten of their best fighters stood, grim-faced, each one radiating the quiet confidence of reaching level 10.
"All of you know what this means," Kane began. His voice carried through the chamber. "That thing is the reason no one made it out of the library. It's stronger than anything we've faced so far. Which is exactly why we'll be the ones to kill it."
Maya crossed her arms. "And if we fail?"
"Then everyone else outside the city eventually dies to its swarm signal." Kane didn't soften the truth. He never did. "We can't afford to leave it alive."
Silence followed, heavy but resolute.
Lena finally broke it. "So you're forming a strike force."
Kane nodded. "Fifteen. No more, no less. Myself, Reina, Lena, Maya… and eleven of our fighters who've proven themselves ready. The rest of you stay here to continue your profession quests. The stronger you become, the better chance we'll have against what's coming next."
He turned back to the holo-map. Red markers bloomed across the city, lesser mutants patrolling in endless waves. But the library stood like a heart, pulsing with concentrated corruption.
"This will be a quick strike," Kane said. "We leave at dawn. In and out before the city itself wakes."
The chosen fifteen dispersed for the night, their faces etched with grim anticipation. Each one bore the weight of the mission, but also the fire of determination.
Kane spent the next hours reviewing drone formations. Two assault squads, one aerial suppression group, and his newest upgraded deployment model. He adjusted attack patterns, recalibrated missile payloads, and optimized fuel draw.
This time, he thought, we'll need every ounce of efficiency.
Reina sat quietly nearby, hugging her knees as she watched him work. When Kane finally looked at her, she whispered, "Will we… really come back?"
Kane walked over and crouched in front of her, brushing a lock of her hair back. His voice was steady, unshakable.
"Yes. We'll come back. Because I promised."
Her small smile carried both faith and fear.
The crimson horizon split the ocean as dawn bled into the sky. The strike force stood assembled on the dock, weapons in hand, armor strapped tight.
Fifteen shadows under the Blood Moon.
Drones hovered above, silent sentinels awaiting command.
Kane looked across them all—Lena with her calm readiness, Maya with sharp determination, Reina standing firm despite the tremor in her hands, and the fighters who had clawed their way up to level 10, each one glowing faintly with the aura of their budding professions.
"The rest of the profession quests will complete themselves in time," Kane said, his tone carrying both order and conviction. "But today—our mission is survival, and fulfillment of a promise."
He raised his hand.
"Move out."
The boats cut through the dark waves, heading straight toward the city's broken skyline.
And the library… where the Flesh Congregant awaited.