The dust hadn’t even settled yet. Cameron’s blood still soaked the cracked pavement. The boss monster lay motionless in a pool of black ichor, its body already beginning to disintegrate into mana particles, vanishing like smoke on the wind. But the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful.
It was the kind of silence that screamed.
Ethan stood off to the side, breathing slow and controlled, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Not from exhaustion—he’d burned through nearly every potion he had—but from everything else. The kind of shaking that came after the adrenaline wore off and reality came crashing down like a goddamn freight train.
Cameron was gone.
No last words. No heroic speech. Just… one hit. One mistake. One broken body.
Mia was kneeling beside him, her hands stained with blood as if she could somehow stop the inevitable by holding on tightly enough. Her sobs were quiet, but they hit harder than any roar the boss had thrown at them.
Alex paced in circles like a caged animal, mumbling under his breath, dragging his fingers through his hair until it stood on end. “He was right there… I should’ve—fuck, I should’ve done something.”
Ava stood a few feet away, her face unreadable. Not cold, not emotionless, just… empty. She’d cried already. Too much, maybe. Now there was just a void where grief used to be.
Ethan looked at each of them, one by one. Then down at Cameron. The man had been solid—reliable. A rock in a world falling apart. He didn’t deserve this. None of them did.
He swallowed hard. “We need to move,” he said, voice low.
Mia snapped her head up. “Move? Ethan, he’s dead.”
“I know.” His tone was steady, but his eyes didn’t meet hers. “But that thing was no ordinary monster. Its death probably triggered something. We stay too long, we end up next.”
Alex glared. “So that’s it? Just leave him?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “No. We bury him. We honor him. Then we move.”
They spent the next hour in silence, digging with their hands and whatever tools they had.
They buried Cameron near the remnants of an old garden, half-overgrown and surrounded by broken statues. It was the closest thing to peace they could find in this hellscape.
Mia laid his polearm atop the grave. Ava placed a small stone at its base. Alex didn’t say a word, just stood there staring, fists clenched.
Ethan stepped forward last. He crouched and placed a small, replicated badge on the grave—a perfect copy of the one Cameron used to wear as a police officer. He hadn’t seen Cameron pull it out often, but he remembered. He remembered everything he touched.
“You kept us alive longer than we deserved,” Ethan said softly. “Rest now.”
Ethan turned his attention back to the groupThe group was broken. Cameron’s death hit them hard, and if they didn’t keep moving, they’d start falling apart one by one.
“We find shelter,” Ethan said. “We rest. Then we plan.”
No one argued.
They walked in silence, the setting sun casting long shadows across the ruins as they left Cameron behind—buried, but not forgotten.
And as the sky turned blood-red, Ethan knew something with grim certainty.
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This world wasn’t done testing them.
Not even close.
The group walked in silence, each step heavier than the last. The wind was colder now, or maybe it just felt that way after the warmth of someone they couldn’t protect faded into the dirt.
They found shelter just past the collapsed bridge over the Nox River—an old fire station, half-buried in rubble but still standing. Mostly. Its brick walls were scorched but solid, and the garage doors had somehow survived the chaos. More importantly, it had one way in and out. That made it defendable. Survivable.
Ethan pushed the door open slowly, axe in hand, his eyes scanning every corner of the dim, musty interior. Dust hung in the air like smoke, and the place smelled like wet ashes and old memories. But it was empty. Blessedly, mercifully empty.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” he said, stepping aside to let the others in.
No one argued.
Mia collapsed onto a torn couch in the corner, pulling her knees to her chest. Her eyes were swollen, her hands trembling. Ava sat cross-legged on the floor, silently unpacking what little supplies they had left. Alex wandered toward the back, checking the perimeter without really seeing anything, his face blank.
Ethan closed the door behind them and dragged a nearby desk in front of it—just in case. He moved automatically, replicating small items they’d need. Lanterns. Blankets. A half-decent frying pan. The glow of his summoned objects cast flickering lights across the room like fireflies.
No one asked where the items came from this time.
He dropped a few healing potions on the table with a dull clink. “Drink. You’re all banged up.”
Alex glanced at them. “You got, like, a potion factory stashed somewhere or what?”
Mia looked up, curiosity flickering through her grief. “Ethan… how do you even have these?”
He didn’t look at them. He just set down the last bottle and said, “Please don’t ask questions.”
That shut them up real fast.
A tense, heavy silence followed. The kind where everyone had too much to say but not enough strength to say it.
Eventually, Alex broke it.
“He was just—” he shook his head, biting back emotion. “Cameron was the one who kept us in line. The voice of reason. The guy who actually believed we had a shot.”
“He saved me,” Ava said softly. “Pushed me out of the way without thinking.”
Mia didn’t speak. She just stared down at the potion in her hands like it was made of glass.
Ethan sat in the farthest corner, resting his head against the wall, arms crossed. He hadn’t processed it. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. If he did, he’d crack. And if he cracked, there wouldn’t be anyone left to hold this damn group together.
“Get some rest,” he said. “We move at first light.”
“Where?” Mia asked, voice hoarse.
“To be honest. I also don't know.”
“Why?” Ava asked.
“I don't know,” Ethan muttered, closing his eyes. “But we don’t have many options,we need to keep moving, I feel like the city will become more dangerous soon.”
“Hmm” Ava acknowledge
He heard them settle into place—shuffling blankets, soft murmurs, quiet weeping that no one acknowledged. Eventually, the fire station fell into a fragile, haunted silence.
Ethan stayed awake, watching the glow of his replicated lantern flicker against the cracked walls.
Cameron was gone. And whatever remained of this group… it was held together by a thread.
He opened his status screen, eyes narrowing.
[Ethan Walker]
Age: 22
Level: 19
Strength: 34
Dexterity: 34
Vitality: 34
Wisdom: 22
Intelligence: 22
Stat Points: 0
Skills:
Perfect Replication [Lvl. Max]
Skill Points: 0
Nineteen. He’d gained three levels from that boss fight alone.
But it didn’t feel like winning.
He stared at the glowing numbers for a long moment before dismissing the screen.
Tomorrow, they'll keep moving. Tomorrow, they’d find something new to fight. To survive.
Tonight?
Tonight was for grief.
And Ethan let himself feel it—just a flicker. Just enough to remember Cameron’s last stand. Just enough to promise it wouldn’t be in vain.
