Noah was dejected. And exhausted.
His breath huffed, forming a cloud on his visor, his boots skidding over the slick alloy floor as he pulled the heavy cart, full of junk, forward.
Then his blasted mind thought of glancing toward the end of the tunnel. A wide, yawning stretch of darkness—only retreating when the light above flickered—that seemed to grow longer the more he stared.
Suddenly, the cart became heavy, immovable. His body slumped down, hands on his knees.
"Ah, fuck!" his voice repeated, echoed in a closed helmet. "For balls' sake, this is torture."
Most people's lives improved after Awakening. Noah was entertaining that thought with a surge of pure resentment. The beating, the scolding for being late, and now...
...this damn cart.
Frustrated, he swung his leg at the cartwheel with all the spite his body could conjure. A sharp, muffled crack echoed in the tunnel.
"Ah—Shit," his scream deafening to his ears. He clutched his toe through the rubber boot of the containment gear as a familiar sensation erupted from his body.
[LP: 81]
Noah froze, leaning on the cart for balance.
"S—stop it," he hissed at the air, his voice devoid of strength. "Stop fixing me!"
Every minor injury cost him. A twisted ankle, a sprained toe—his ability didn't care about the scale; it only cared about the repair. He was being liferupt by his own body's refusal to stay broken.
But the feeling of uselessness was just the heavy price, even for a life-threatening wound.
He summoned the screen again with a thought. It was clearly an active ability, but there was no mention of the automatic healing. Only the consumption of energy.
As that omission was gnawing at him, a creaking sound resounded from behind.
He glanced back. Another cart rolled into view, dragging effortlessly by a figure wearing the same dull grey containment gear. The scuffed boots were drumming loudly.
Noah straightened his back before he could stop himself. Pride was a heavy burden, but he carried it anyway.
"Noah!" a voice called out, bright and unreasonably cheerful. The cart rattled to a stop beside him. "Is everything okay? I heard you were late today."
It was bad enough his body felt ready to give out, but hearing that tone—dripping with a concern that wasn't even meant for him—twisted something deeper.
"What nonsense are you blabbering about?"
The boy turned his head, scratching at his neck.
"I was just worr—"
"Well, you worried wrong."
Noah's chest ached as he watched Joey slump. The boy looked like he'd just lost the only chance he had to get on Noah's good side, and it made the air in the hallway feel even thinner.
'Just leave, you fatso.' But against Noah's pleading, Joey snapped out of his mourning, his focus finally shifting back to the stalled cart.
"Umm, do you need help?" The kid asked, pointing to his cart. Innocent.
He felt a flare of pathetic gratitude. He drowned it instantly, burying it under a layer of practiced spite, twisting his face into something ugly, and reaching for the cart's handles. He pulled with everything he had, careful not to let the strain show.
'Move. Move, you hunk of garbage,' he screamed loudly inside his head, and the chart answered his call as it shuddered.
Then rolled.
For a heartbeat, it felt like his soul slipped loose from his body. The world dimmed at the edges, a thin ringing filling his ears. His legs trembled, threatening to give out.
He didn't stop, even pushing the thought of fracturing some more bones to the gutter.
He dragged the cart forward inch by inch, boots scraping, shoulders burning, until the wheels finally found a steady rhythm. Only then did he breathe.
At the same time, Joey caught up in an instant, and he was barely putting any effort.
With a sullen face, Noah maintained his pace, but—
"I'm glad you're here," Joey said. Even with Noah's ears sealed inside the helmet, his voice echoed, oozing with energy. "For a second, I thought I was alone today."
Noah glanced at him before shaking his head. Even after becoming an ogre, he was still the same child.
"Why? Mark's not here?"
"Yeah," he nodded.
A frown found its way to his face. Noah didn't really care about anyone. But Mark? He was a different story, or now, he became one.
"Do you think... he went back?" As Joey spoke, his voice became low. "You know, to the Hunter Academy?"
Yeah, he was awakened too, which was also why Noah didn't celebrate his awakening. Of course, he had gotten a very notable reason after, but still.
"He said he was expelled," he chuckled. "You think they'll bring him back?"
Finally, he started to see the end of this dreaded tunnel; it was barred with a thick metal alloy. A relief washed over him.
"Yeah, but... maybe he found his ability useful in some way. At least as support."
Noah gave the boy a curious look. He didn't know what Mark's ability was, as people hardly discuss their ability in the open, but he couldn't be worse than him.
Awakening was generally considered a promotion to humanity. But Noah got demoted instead.
Feeling extremely betrayed, Noah let the handle go. A wave of reprieve from torture ran through his body as he tapped the panel.
The tunnel suddenly woke up from its slumber as a thunderous beat started to rhythm like its heart. But instead of metal in front, a heavy alloy door emerged from behind, sealing them with a metallic thud.
Only then did the barrier shudder open. Violent heat slammed into him.
Noah cursed and tried to plant his feet firmly, but he still pushed a step back.
Even through the heavy containment gear, the heat was no joke. It was a cruel, agonizing punch that felt like his skin was being pressed against the sun.
As his vision cleared, the true scale of the space hit him.
The chamber was staggering, a hollowed-out mountain of air and fire. The walls were a sickening, toxic yellow.
In the dead center of this vast abyss stood a lone pillar that looked tiny against the distance, yet towered hundreds of feet into the haze.
Stretching toward it was a massive bridge of reinforced alloy. It was wide enough for a vehicle, yet against the soul-crushing expanse of the chamber, it looked like a single, fragile thread hanging over the hell.
At the very end of that thread, perched atop the pillar, the red crystal pulsed.
Noah flinched, snapping his gaze away. The glare seared his eyes. But even with his eyes averted, the pressure remained. It sat heavy on his chest, suffocating and cold.
That was the high-ranking crystal found at the heart of the monsters. They were also known by another name...
Energy source.
It was tempting but also suicidal. Only the brave walk on that bridge. Noah didn't fall between them, though.
"Let's dump this shit and get the hell out of here."