Vespera

After a long silence, the atmosphere grew heavy. Lucien seemed to have finally come to terms with Elodie's condition. He sat in a daze beside her pale, lifeless body, lost in thought. Across from him, Nas contemplated their next course of action.

"Hey, I don't think I ever got your name."

Hearing his voice, Nas looked up, his blue eyes meeting Lucien's dark ones—eyes filled with despair.

"Nas. And you?"

"Lucien."

Silence fell over them once more.

"You might have already guessed from my accent and appearance, but I'm not from around here. Do you know of France?"

Nas's eyes widened. Surprise was an understatement.

"France? You mean The Ruin of All Civilization, that France?"

Lucien nodded, his expression empty, his gaze distant—as if staring into the fragments of a past long gone. But Nas recognized that look. It was the same one he saw every time he looked into a mirror—a mixture of grief and fury.

"You must know what happened to the surviving French after The Great Collapse. They were hunted, slaughtered, enslaved, skinned alive. It didn't matter if they were adults, the elderly, children—even infants. Those who were far enough had to erase their identities, disguise their race, abandon their heritage. "

Nas had, of course, heard of it—the Great Collapse, the radio-apocalyptic disaster caused by the explosion of the CERN Fusion Reactor in Southern France. The biggest man made disaster of humanity history. The catastrophe contaminated the land and forever altered the world's landscape. Everyone knew about it, as well as the suffering the surviving French people had to endure in the aftermath of the cataclysm.

"And among the victims were my parents and Elodie's older brother."

Lucien's hands clenched into fists, his body trembling.

"And what did the world do? Where was their so-called humanity? What did those parasites in the Neo European Empire do as they watched this genocide unfold? Nothing. They did nothing. They justified it, saying it was the French who had doomed the world."

Nas watched as tears streamed down Lucien's face, his sorrowful eyes locked onto Elodie's lifeless form.

"Elodie was the only thing keeping me alive. She was my world—the only friend, the only family I had left."

Nas remained silent. He wasn't good at comforting people. Words meant little in the face of suffering like this.

Lucien wiped his tears and turned to the man who had saved him and Elodie.

"What about you, Nas?"

"Me? There's nothing special about my story. I don't know who my parents were. I grew up in an orphanage. Then, on my eighth birthday, I was sold to a slave trader and ended up in this hellhole."

He spoke nonchalantly, as if he were reciting an unimportant fact. There wasn't a trace of emotion in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Why apologize? It's not your fault."

Lucien's eyes widened before he suddenly burst into laughter. It was the first time he had smiled since being trapped in this place. Nas merely raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You really don't care about anything, do you? I envy that."

"It's not that I don't care. It's just that, as a slave, I've never had the luxury—or the right—to dwell on such things."

Nas was simply stating a fact. He didn't even know why he was still alive. Suicide among slaves wasn't uncommon. Every month, at least two or three ended their own lives in the Dunhanmont Mines.

Lucien listened before reaching into his pocket.

"Nas, can you read?"

Nas nodded. The orphanage had taught him a little. Lucien then pulled out a tiny book, no longer than a finger, and handed it to Nas, who took it with a puzzled expression.

"This was a gift from my mother. It's a story about two friends on an adventure to defeat the Great Demon King. It's a cliché tale, but a beautiful one. Read it whenever you have time."

Lucien smiled warmly. Nas hesitated, then flipped the book open—his expression immediately changing.

"Are you fucking serious? This shit isn't in English."

"Of course not. It's in French. This book is nearly a century old."

Lucien chuckled as Nas scowled.

"Nobody speaks French anymore. How the hell am I supposed to read this?"

"Maybe you should start learning—when you get out of here."

Nas scoffed, shaking his head. Lucien then looked at him with a somber expression.

"In exchange for that book… may I ask something of you?"

"Hm? If you're about to ask me to save her, then I'm sorry to crush your hopes, but I'm just a Starless Beta-Emitter. If I had more energy—even just one star—I might be able to heal wounds. But as I am now, the most I can do is generate weak electrical currents and minor electromagnetic fields."

Starless. That was what people like Nas were called—those whose radiation energy levels were lower than the average human. Normal people had an energy range between 17 and 27 SeV ( SuperelectronVolts ), categorized as One Star. Anyone below that range was considered defective. The Starless.

"I know. That's why my request is different… If you make it out of here alive, promise me you'll kill me and bury me beside Elodie."

Nas froze. His empty gaze met Lucien's once again. He knew he should refuse—after all, they had only just met. But somehow, he understood. He recognized the pain Lucien carried. It was the same as his own.

"I can't promise you that. Besides, the way things are going, the three of us might just end up in some worm's stomach before that ever happens. Who knows?"

Nas stood up, leaving Lucien speechless before he let out a bitter chuckle.

"You're right… Sorry for making such an unreasonable request."

There was no food or water, and Nas and Lucien weren't even sure they would survive the night. Almost everything inside the Rift was radiotoxic. Nas then placed the book in his hand into the pocket of his cargo pants and turned to Lucien.

" We have to move quickly. If we can get out of here on time, maybe someone outside can still save the girl. "

Lucien, hearing this, nodded his head.

Lucien took one last look at Elodie's pale face before standing up while lifting her body, his body swaying slightly from exhaustion. He adjusted her in his arms, making sure her head rested securely against his chest. Nas watched him for a moment before turning toward the dark, towering trees of the forest. They couldn't afford to waste any more time.

"This way."

Lucien followed as Nas took the lead, navigating through the dense undergrowth with a steady, deliberate pace. The oppressive darkness pressed against them, the air thick with damp earth and the scent of decaying leaves. Everything felt like darkness all over, as Nas only relying on his instinct and memory of the mines to navigate through this forest. Every step felt like it carried the weight of death itself. The forest stretched endlessly, a tangled mass of gnarled roots and twisted branches. 

But at least Nas knows where they are right now, in the far south of the mine's main entrance, because that's the only place where Mine Worms live here.

"We're not taking the main route?" Lucien asked in a hushed tone.

Nas shook his head. "That area is crawling with Mine Worms as you know already. If you want to die being digested alive, be my guest."

Lucien grimaced, his grip on Elodie tightening. He had no weapon, no real means of defending himself should anything decide to make them its next meal. He was relying entirely on Nas's knowledge of the forest and his strange, detached composure.

They took a narrow path to the left, one that was barely wide enough for them to squeeze through. The trees loomed overhead, their skeletal branches intertwining like the ribs of some ancient beast. The ground was uneven, shifting beneath their feet as loose dirt and fallen leaves crunched under each step.

"How much further?" Lucien whispered.

"Another half hour, maybe more. We'll be taking a detour through the old trails. Less chance of running into Worms, but more chance of finding… other things."

Lucien's stomach twisted at Nas's vague statement. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what 'other things' lurked in these forsaken woods.

The silence between them was broken only by the distant calls of nocturnal creatures and the occasional rustling of unseen movement in the underbrush. They pressed on, ducking beneath low-hanging branches and stepping over fallen logs left to decay. The deeper they went, the colder it became. A damp chill clung to their skin, soaking into their bones.

Elodie stirred slightly in Lucien's arms, a faint whimper escaping her lips. He immediately stopped, shifting her weight as he leaned in to check on her. Her breathing was shallow, her skin cold.

"She's getting worse," Lucien muttered, desperation creeping into his voice.

Nas didn't respond immediately. Instead, he knelt and pressed his fingers against the dirt, as if feeling for something. "We need to move faster," he finally said. "If we can make it to the abandoned outpost before dawn, there might still be supplies left behind."

Lucien nodded, readjusting his hold on Elodie and pushing forward with renewed determination.

After what felt like an eternity, Nas came to an abrupt stop, raising a hand to signal Lucien to halt. He pressed himself against a thick tree trunk, barely breathing. Lucien mimicked him instinctively, his pulse hammering in his ears.

Then he heard it.

A low, guttural clicking sound echoed through the forest. It was rhythmic, almost methodical, as if something was listening—searching. The sound of claws scraping against bark sent a shiver down Lucien's spine.

Nas exhaled slowly through his nose. "Shit."

Lucien didn't dare ask what was making that noise.

Nas motioned for him to move, keeping their pace slow and deliberate. The clicking grew louder, closer. It was just ahead, beyond the twisted trees. The path they were on was too narrow to run. If whatever it was saw them, they wouldn't stand a chance.

Lucien's breath hitched as he saw a shadow stretch across the dimly lit forest floor. It was massive, easily twice the size of a man. And its shape—no, its movement—was unnatural. It shifted, distorted, as though it were barely tethered to reality.

Nas's eyes flicked toward Lucien, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his gaze—a cold calculation. He was considering their options, weighing the risks.

Lucien swallowed hard.

The shadow twisted, elongating, its form shifting like liquid darkness. It knew they were here.

Then, in an instant, it lunged.