“Fried food over here! Nice and hot—come with something of equal value!”

  “Selling clothes and blankets for the winter! Hurry before the cold bites through your bones!”

  “Mommy, can I get a guitar? Look at how he plays!”

  “Shit… I’m running low. I’m gonna have to work like a damn slave this weekend.”

  Cinderhaven was alive. The air thrummed with voices, conversations overlapping like an unscripted symphony. Street vendors called out, each one eager to make a trade.

  The scent of sizzling meat and fresh bread intertwined with the sharp chill of the air, making the already crowded streets feel even more suffocating.

  People danced to the rhythm of a lone musician strumming his guitar on the corner, his notes clear and vibrant against the murmur of bartering and casual chatter.

  Men and women, dressed in patchwork clothing of various makes, moved fluidly through the crowds, their arms laden with goods. Some wore the expressions of hardened survivalists, others beamed with the simple joy of a temporary reprieve from struggle.

  This was life in a dystopia—where desperation and celebration coexisted like reluctant siblings.

  “Good thing we ate before we got here.” Warren’s voice cut through the din, his arms crossed as he took in the scenery with a mixture of wariness and intrigue.

  Not that eating beforehand did much to stop Ronan from staring at the food stalls with wide, desperate eyes. His gaze flickered from vendor to vendor, his expression shifting between admiration and barely contained hunger.

  “Everything smells so good…” His voice was practically a whimper.

  Lumian walked ahead, taking the lead despite knowing just as little about Cinderhaven as the rest of them. He scanned the streets, taking in the sheer scale of the place, the towering structures, the winding alleys, the seemingly endless flow of people.

  “When I heard about Cinderhaven, I didn’t expect it to be… this big.” His words carried a note of disbelief, his eyes darting from one bustling section of the city to the next.

  It was overwhelming. It wasn’t just a settlement—it was a metropolis by post-Collapse standards. If they weren’t careful, they could waste hours just trying to navigate the place, let alone find what they needed.

  Which brought Lumian to a very unfortunate realization.

  His face flushed a soft shade of pink, and for once, his usual bravado faltered.

  “Uh…” He rubbed his left cheek, his eyes pointedly avoiding the others. “…So, um… What—er—what did we exactly need again?”

  The sight of Lumian looking genuinely bashful was such an unexpected twist that for a moment, the group just stared at him in stunned silence.

  Silas blinked. Warren sighed. Ronan, ever opportunistic, used the moment of distraction to inch closer to a vendor selling skewered meat.

  For all his confidence, all his grandstanding, all his flamboyance—Lumian had completely forgotten their objective.

  “Er… I actually do remember a bit.” Warren pressed his fingers against his temple, his brows furrowing as he sifted through his thoughts. “She wanted more food. Fruits and vegetables, I think. Maybe bread, too? But honestly… I’m not sure what even lasts long anymore.” He let out a small sigh, crossing his arms. “Pillows and blankets—for the cold. That’s to be expected. And…” He trailed off, his expression tightening as he tried to recall the last item. There was one more. One more thing.

  “Tea.” Silas spoke with certainty, his voice cutting through the noise of the marketplace. “Charlotte told me that I’d meet a woman impossible to miss. If I mention her name, she’ll know.” There was an odd sense of pride in his tone, as if he had just solved a puzzle no one else could. If this were some weekend cartoon, a bright lightbulb would’ve flickered to life over his head.

  “Oh! Oh! She also said we could get one thing for ourselves since we’re the ones headed on this journey!” Ronan practically vibrated with excitement, his entire demeanor shifting at the mere mention of a personal reward. His eyes glimmered like a child hearing the words all-you-can-eat buffet for the first time.

  Warren, watching this display of pure joy, slowly turned his head with an expression that could only be described as sheer, unfiltered judgment.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “…Don’t you think it’s a little selfish,” he began, his voice as even and measured as ever, “to remember something so worthless like that… but also forget the necessities?” He tilted his head slightly, genuinely curious as to how Ronan’s brain functioned on a fundamental level.

  Ronan, undeterred, merely grinned. “I’d call it prioritizing, actually.”

  “You’re doing the exact opposite, though. You forgot the priorities,” Warren said, his voice dripping with disbelief as he shot Ronan a sideways glance. “How did you even make it this far? No, seriously. How?”

  Ronan, unfazed, tilted his head. “Sheer luck?”

  Warren’s eye twitched. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

  “Well, I am still alive, aren’t I?” Ronan grinned, hands in his pockets as he strolled along, utterly unbothered by Warren’s scrutiny. “That’s gotta count for something.”

  Warren exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly restraining himself from escalating things further.

  While the two of them continued their back-and-forth, Lumian nudged Silas with his elbow, leaning in slightly. There was a glint in his eye, the kind that usually meant trouble—or, at the very least, something troublesome.

  “Hey,” Lumian murmured, voice just low enough for only Silas to hear. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Silas flicked his gaze toward him, silently urging him to continue.

  “This place is huge,” Lumian said, sweeping a glance over the lively, bustling marketplace. “If we stick together as a group of four, we’ll just slow ourselves down. But if we split up? We’ll cover more ground.”

  Silas hummed, mulling over the suggestion.

  It was a logical conclusion. Cinderhaven was far more expansive than any of them had anticipated. The sheer density of the marketplace alone was enough to make their search a tedious endeavor. Sticking together would only limit their efficiency.

  And while Silas wasn’t particularly eager to separate, he had to admit—it was the best course of action.

  Sensing his agreement, Lumian clapped his hands together loudly, causing both Warren and Ronan to jolt in surprise. Their argument immediately came to a halt as they turned to face him, mildly startled.

  “Alright! Here’s the plan.” Lumian grinned, hands resting on his hips. “We’re splitting up. Two groups of two. It’ll be faster, and hopefully easier.” His gaze flicked to Warren and Ronan. “That is… if you two don’t get distracted.”

  “You two?” Warren blinked, as if only just realizing what that entailed. His expression immediately twisted in horror. “Wait. Wait. You’re pairing me up with Ronan? Out of all the possible options, Ronan?”

  Ronan, for his part, seemed entirely unaffected. In fact, he smiled. “Aw, Warren, you sound so heartbroken. I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I don’t. That’s the problem.”

  Lumian chuckled, completely ignoring Warren’s growing protests. “No buts. The decision’s made.” He lifted a finger and pointed at them. “You two are in charge of gathering food and blankets. Meanwhile, me and Silas will be looking for the tea Charlotte wanted.”

  Warren groaned, running a hand down his face. “This is the worst possible outcome.”

  “You’ll survive.” Lumian waved him off dismissively before continuing. “We’ll meet back here before sundown. It’s three o’clock now, and it usually gets dark around ten. That gives us seven whole hours. Plenty of time.”

  Before Warren could voice another word of complaint, Lumian casually draped an arm over Silas’s shoulders and began leading him away. “Don’t get yourselves into troubleee~!” He called back in a sing-song tone, his grin utterly smug.

  Warren’s protests went entirely ignored as he begrudgingly turned in the opposite direction. Ronan merely grinned, falling into step beside him with an ease that only annoyed Warren further.

  And just like that, the squad split into two groups.

  .

  ..

  …

  Perfection—an unattainable pinnacle, where every flaw is sculpted into divinity and every imperfection erased by an ideal beyond mortal comprehension. It is flawless symmetry, the universe itself bending in reverence to its presence. To witness it is to stand before something so immaculate that reality itself seems like a dull, uninspired imitation.

  Beauty—a force beyond reason, so breathtaking it defies logic, overwhelming the senses with its sheer existence. It is not simply seen—it is felt, a presence that seizes the heart and holds the mind captive in stunned reverence. True beauty does not seek admiration—it commands it, enthralling all who dare to gaze upon its splendor.

  Yet even these words failed to encapsulate her.

  A goddess, if such a thing could exist in mortal form. The ruler of a world long lost to her grasp.

  “The ground is littered.”

  Her voice, dripping with disdain, slithered through the dimly lit chamber. Beyond the vast, tinted windows of the tower, Cinderhaven sprawled out before her, alive with movement. Filth. Insects, scurrying about in the shape of men, women and children.

  “Vermin walking freely like this… it makes my skin crawl.” Her expression twisted, disgust curling at her lips. “It makes me want to rip out my own bowels and vomit them at the sight.”

  Laughter and music drifted up from the streets below. The joyous atmosphere only deepened the malice in her gaze.

  “Man-things and whores grinning like fools,” she sneered. “How utterly shameful. If I ruled this pathetic world, I’d have my underlings carve frowns into each of their cheeks.”

  She clapped her hands.

  A sound as sharp as a blade slicing through the air.

  In an instant, a figure appeared at her side.

  He stood tall, his long black dreadlocks twisted into a bun, his striking blue-and-white martial robes hanging loosely over his lean frame. His arrival was silent, disciplined—his very presence one of unwavering obedience.

  “Yes, ma—”

  A fierce elbow connected with his nose before the word could fully leave his lips. A sickening crack echoed through the room as blood spurted from his nostrils, staining the pristine floor.

  A truly wretched sight.

  “I didn’t ask you to speak,” she said, lowering her arm as if the strike had required no effort at all. “I merely called you to suffer my wrath.”

  Calmly, she reached for the glass of liquor resting beside her, her fingers tracing its rim before setting it down with deliberate ease.

  Her gaze returned to the window.

  “Looks like he was right.” A smirk curled at the edge of her lips. “Even though I despise relying on a man, he kept his word… and he’s kept me entertained.”

  Her right eye ignited, a bright orange glow searing through the darkness.

  And below, in the lively streets of Cinderhaven, not a single soul was aware of the monster that ruled over such a beautiful place.