Odyssey Of Survival

The path leading to Kemet Ra's entrance was uneven, dusty, and lined with the unmistakable signs of the slums—a place forgotten by wealth and untouched by luxury. Dilapidated structures, made from crumbling mud bricks and old wooden beams, stood on either side of the narrow streets, their surfaces worn down by time and hardship. The air carried a faint stench—sweat, filth, and the unmistakable scent of desperation, a mix of survival and neglect.

Nate walked beside Tiaa, his iron rod strapped across his back, his gaze flickering between the people they passed.

Most of them barely paid him any attention, too preoccupied with their own struggles. Children ran barefoot through the streets, their clothes little more than tattered rags, while old men and women sat hunched in the corners of crumbling walls, their eyes hollow, their faces marked by years of suffering. It was a stark contrast to the more structured parts of the city, where merchants bartered, warriors trained, and the privileged feasted.

Here, life was a constant battle—one not fought with swords, but with hunger, sickness, and the cruel passage of time.

As they walked, Nate found himself stealing a glance at Tiaa, noting the way her expression remained unreadable, as if she had long accepted this sight and had no reason to react to it anymore.

She had been walking ahead of him, her steps steady, her shoulders slightly tense, as if deep in thought.

Nate had been holding back a question for a while now, but for some reason, he hesitated to ask.

Tiaa must have sensed it because, without turning to face him, she suddenly spoke.

"Just ask."

Nate blinked.

"Huh?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before facing forward again. "You've been holding back a question. Just ask already."

Nate let out a small breath, rubbing his nose as he debated his words. She was right. He had been meaning to ask something, but he wasn't sure if it would offend her or if she would even bother answering.

But now that she had given him the go-ahead, there was no reason to hold back.

"Alright," he started, lowering his hand as his gaze turned serious. "Why are you hunting?"

Tiaa didn't stop walking, but there was a small, noticeable stiffness in her posture.

Nate continued.

"I've looked around. Most girls here do the easier jobs—trading, cooking, making clothes, things like that. But you're out here doing one of the most dangerous jobs. Why?"

Silence.

She didn't answer immediately, and for a moment, Nate thought she might ignore the question entirely.

**Her steps remained steady, but there was something different about her now—**something guarded.

After a few more seconds of silence, Nate exhaled and shrugged slightly.

"It's fine if you don't want to answer," he said, his voice casual.

But then, Tiaa finally spoke.

"It's alright."

Her voice was quiet, but there was a weight behind it, a heaviness that told him that what she was about to say wasn't easy for her.

She kept her eyes forward, but her tone carried something deeper—something buried beneath years of survival.

"When I was little," she started, "our town was attacked. My parents were killed."

Nate's expression stiffened slightly.

"I was abducted, along with the other girls," she continued.

There was no emotion in her voice, but somehow, that made it worse.

"The young boys were killed. The young girls…" She paused for a fraction of a second. "We were taken and sold as slaves."

Nate felt his jaw tighten.

She didn't slow her pace, didn't falter as she spoke, as if these words had long since lost their ability to make her feel.

"I escaped," she said simply. "It was during the transport. I ran. Hid. Survived."

For the first time, her fingers tensed slightly at her sides.

"The hunters found me later, cold and starving in the forest at night. They took me in."

Silence fell between them.

Nate's steps slowed slightly as her words sank in. Stay connected via My Virtual Library Empire

He had seen and experienced his fair share of cruelty—but there was something about hearing it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, that left him unable to speak for a moment.

He truly understood how merciless this world was.

He had suspected it. He had seen glimpses of it in the way people acted, in the way they fought to survive. But hearing it from Tiaa—someone who now stood beside him, who had carved out her place in this brutal world through sheer force of will—made it all the more real.

His hand tightened slightly at his side, but he quickly forced himself to loosen it.

He didn't want to feel sympathy. He knew she wouldn't want it.

But he was only human, after all.

Tiaa seemed unbothered by his silence.

"Let's hurry up," she said suddenly, breaking the heavy atmosphere. "The others are waiting."

Nate lifted his head, following her gaze through the shifting crowd.

And what he saw made his eyebrows lift slightly in surprise.

Meni and the other three were already standing at the entrance of Kemet Ra, waiting.

Nate hadn't even noticed them leave the brothel. For all their lazy attitudes and drunken behavior, they were surprisingly fast.

They stood with their arms crossed, talking amongst themselves while casting occasional glances toward him and Tiaa.

Meni, as expected, had a smug grin on his face, already looking like he was waiting to throw another insult or challenge Nate's presence again.

Nate exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly as a small smirk formed on his lips.

"This should be interesting," he muttered under his breath.

Tiaa didn't respond. She simply walked ahead, her long strides purposeful as she made her way toward the waiting hunters.

Nate followed, his iron rod secured on his back, his mind still lingering on the conversation they had just shared.

As they neared the entrance where Meni and the others stood waiting, Nate could already see the smug expression plastered on Meni's face, a look that promised nothing short of taunting remarks before they had even exchanged a single word. It was clear from the way Meni's eyes immediately landed on the iron rod strapped diagonally across Nate's back that he was just looking for something to latch onto, something to mock, something to amuse himself with, because that was just the kind of man he was—always eager to stir trouble where there was none, always ready to open his mouth before his brain had the chance to catch up.

And just as Nate expected, Meni didn't disappoint.

With an exaggerated shake of his head, he scoffed loudly, making sure his voice was heard over the noise of the people moving around them, before he jerked his chin toward Nate's weapon, his lips curling into an all-too-familiar smirk.

"You really shouldn't bite more than you can chew, pretty boy," he drawled, his tone thick with amusement, as if he had already decided, before even testing him, that Nate was weak, that he was just some reckless fool picking up a weapon far beyond his ability to wield.

Not even giving Nate the chance to respond, he turned slightly to the others, gesturing toward the iron rod with a lazy wave of his hand before exhaling through his nose in mock disappointment.

"Tell me," he continued, his voice still laced with that same patronizing amusement, "why would this idiot pick something that's his own damn weight?"

The reaction was immediate.

Nefer, a man whose face was riddled with old scars, one particularly jagged one running from his temple down to the corner of his jaw, tilted his head slightly before scoffing, his lips twisting into a smirk that mirrored Meni's.

"Maybe he thinks carrying something heavy makes him look stronger," he muttered, crossing his arms as if the very thought was absurd.

Hapu, who was noticeably leaner than the others but had an almost unsettling sharpness to his eyes, clicked his tongue before chiming in, his voice taking on a mocking lilt.

"Or maybe he's just trying to look important," he mused, his gaze briefly flicking to Tiaa before shifting back to Nate. "What do you think, Djer?"

Djer, the quietest of the group, exhaled through his nose, not bothering to comment, but the amusement in his eyes was clear enough—he agreed with them.

And yet, despite all of this—despite the taunting words, despite the open ridicule, despite the way they were waiting, hoping, expecting some kind of reaction—Nate didn't say a single word.

He didn't roll his eyes.

He didn't frown.

He didn't even acknowledge them.

His expression remained completely indifferent, completely unbothered, as if he hadn't even heard a single thing they said.

And for some reason, that only seemed to irritate Meni more.

Even Tiaa, who was used to Meni's behavior, found herself glancing at Nate, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face as she wondered just how long he planned to stay this calm, because she had seen it before—Meni had a habit of pushing people to the edge, testing their patience, waiting for them to finally snap so he could have his fun. But what was more surprising to her was that Nate, despite having already proven how dangerous he could be, was simply standing there, unmoved, unfazed, his posture relaxed as if their words were nothing more than distant background noise.

But she knew.

She knew it was only a matter of time.

And so, before Meni could continue his little game, before he could push his luck any further, she adjusted the quiver on her back and, with a sharp edge to her voice, finally broke the tension.

"Enough," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Meni turned to her, raising an eyebrow in mild annoyance.

But before he could protest, she shot him a look.

"We've wasted enough time," she continued, already stepping forward. "Let's go."

For a moment, Meni looked like he wanted to push back, to say something just to irritate her, just to challenge her authority, but after a brief pause, he exhaled sharply through his nose before muttering something under his breath, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off his irritation.

Nefer, Hapu, and Djer exchanged glances before they, too, began moving toward the entrance.

As the group finally started walking, Nate remained beside Tiaa, still completely unbothered, still wearing that same unreadable expression.

And for the first time, Tiaa felt a strange sense of unease.

Because for all her experience, for all the years she had spent hunting, for all the men she had encountered—she had never met someone quite like him.

---

Somewhere Else in the City

The air inside the dimly lit room felt unnaturally thick, suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the night.

Sera sat at the wooden table, her fingers resting lightly against the worn surface, her plate nearly empty after finishing her meal. Yet, despite having eaten, despite feeling the warmth of the food settle in her stomach, there was something wrong—something she couldn't quite place.

Her eyelids felt heavier than they should.

Her heartbeat was slow, too slow.

A strange dizziness crawled through her body, spreading like an unseen poison.

She tried to move, tried to push herself up from the table, but the moment she attempted to stand, her legs buckled beneath her, and before she could even register what was happening, she collapsed onto the cold, hard floor, her vision swimming as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Her breath was uneven.

Her limbs felt numb.

She barely had the strength to lift her head, but when she did, her blurred gaze landed on User, who stood over her, his expression unreadable.

Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, tried to force words past her heavy tongue, but all she managed was a weak murmur.

"What… did you do… to me…?"

Her voice was barely a whisper before her vision darkened completely.

Her body stilled.

Her consciousness slipped away.

And the world around her faded into silence.

User stood still, watching her motionless body on the floor.

The silence in the room was short-lived.

Because suddenly, several figures entered the house, their presence bringing a chilling shift in the air.

They didn't speak right away.

They simply stood behind User, their expressions unreadable, their eyes dark and filled with something almost murderous.

Then, after a long moment of silence, one of them finally spoke.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

User didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

Another figure, taller than the rest, stepped forward.

Even in the dim lighting, his face remained partially hidden in the shadows.

His voice was deep, slow, deliberate.

"Once we start, there's no going back."

The words hung in the air like a warning.

But User's answer was immediate.

"I know."

His voice didn't waver.

He had already made his decision.

No hesitation.

No second thoughts.

Whatever was about to happen—he had already accepted it.

And with that, the room fell into an eerie silence.

****

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