In a particularly round tunnel-or a small cavern if one were to be specific-a masked, hooded man sat on a large, flat boulder.
With the diary opened on his lap, he scribbled words and such here and there.
As he was doing so, he suddenly saw something at the corner of his vision. Looking up, he saw around the corner, an increasingly bright orange-yellow light.
'Just on time.'
Corvus first placed the pencil and diary into his cloak with practiced movement. Then, he grabbed the edge of the hood and pulled it down further to cover nearly the top half of the crow mask.
Just when he got onto his feet, the source of the light appeared around the corner. Four men entered the small cavern.
Wearing multiple layers of gray-brown clothes that seemed rather loose, a sword, knife, or both hanging on their hips or back, and small-medium sized backpacks, they looked to be prepared for a hike.
"Is he late?" one of the four-an older teenager or young man with dirty blonde hair-said.
"It's Corvus," a man who looked to be around forty with brown hair and stubble on his chin, said rather gruffly. There were a few wrinkles that were inconspicuous on his forehead due to a well defined stress-line that gave him a charm of manliness.
To the non observant, he could've simply been estimated to be in his mid thirties.
Standing at the forefront of the group, the older man seemed to be the leader of the group.
"He's always punctual," he said with an air of confidence. "It's basically his thing."
"Well I still don't see him-oh crap!"
The moment the young adult cried out, everyone jolted. Within seconds, they fell into position with weapons quickly drawn, casting a wary look at a darker mass that stood out amongst the darkness.
One of them, a sharp looking young man, raised the only torch in his hands towards the darker mass to illuminate the darkness.
At the same moment, simultaneously, three of the four sighed in relief, lowering their posed weapons. The only one who didn't was the young man who had recently cried out.
Looking at his companions, the look that adorned his face could truly be described as "confused."
"...what?" he asked in bewilderment. "Why are you guys-"
"Like I said..." the one with the stubble said, rubbing his eyes. "He's always punctual."
The young man blinked a couple times before a figurative lightbulb clicked. Turning to look at the hooded, crow-masked man before him, he ventured forward rather nervously.
"E-excuse me, mister? Are you Mr. Corvus?"
"Yes, I am," Corvus replied with a nod. The tension in the young man's shoulders relaxed fully as he sighed in relief.
"Were you waiting to ambush us or something?!" he said with a slight tremor in his voice. "Why are you even waiting in the dark?!"
"It hides me from those who look for me," Corvus simply responded. The young man blinked multiple times in quick succession, while his mouth opened and closed; the epitome of being flabbergasted.
After many, many seconds, the young adult forced a smile.
"That's...very practical of you, Mr. Corvus. No wonder you're so highly recommended."
"Was it the people of πππ»πΈπ²πΏπ π― who told you?" Corvus asked, and as expected, they all nodded. Well, not all.
Only the young man looked rather surprised among them.
"How did you-oh, that's right! You've been on many exploration expeditions like this, haven't you? A top-tier explorer!"
Corvus gave a side-eye glance for a brief moment. Before the young man could ask anything else, the leader finally walked up.
"Peace, Judas," he reprimanded sternly, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Be at ease, but at the same time be tense. We got a job to do."
With that, he walked past the young man named Judas until he stood a foot away from Corvus.
"The name's Gregor," he said, his dirt-stained dark brown gloved hand outstretched. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Corvus."
Corvus only nodded, clasping his hand with Gregor's and shaking it once. Withdrawing his hand, Gregor looked back at the others.
"Alright people, gather around. It's time to begin planning the expedition."
...
A dim light shined onto the group of five as they walked out of the tunnel. Taking a deep breath, the leader at the forefront put his hands on his hips as he looked at a distant city.
It looked incredibly small from afar, with only the towering buildings standing out under the light-gray, dim sky that seemed to be on the verge of raining again.
"First time out here, kid?" Gregor asked with a knowing smirk, taking a glance at the young man. Looking at the distant city, Judas made a smile that looked incredibly forced after a moment.
"Yeah..."
"Alright, you got your chance to see it. Now get back into formation!"
With that said, he pushed the young man good-naturedly. Judas looked irritated, frowning slightly before forcing another smile.
"Oh, remember what I said before, okay?" Gregor suddenly said. "We mustn't make any unnecessary noises or movements. Understand?"
The last bit seemed to be said towards Judas, who nodded his head with a serious look.
"Conserving stamina is important, so be careful."
With that said, Gregor stood at the forefront. Three of them-including Judas-stood in the middle. In addition of a "Corvus" in the back, they checked their gear once again before heading forward towards the desolate city.
As they trekked their ways forward, at the back of the group, the crow-masked man strapped the large, ragged, hiking backpack he had recently looted and silently followed.
This would be a tiring journey, even if it may be short, and it won't just be because of the long trek.
...
In a small street off the main road, a more urban and secluded part of the city were overgrown plants, non-useful trash, and ruins.
Pale green vines and the like crawled up many, many meters high off the ground, taking advantage of the nooks and cracks here and there, while there were cars placed chaotically that were either broken, in disrepair, or simply both. Some were parked near the sidewalks, while some were in the middle of the road, angled chaotically.
Then there were some that were simply parked on the pavement itself, and there were not a few that crashed entirely into buildings, leaving dents and craters amidst the trash-filled street.
Amidst the terrible, war-torn post-apocalypse setting, a humanoid figure made its way through the litter-filled road.
Suddenly, a small gust of wind blew from. behind it. Within a second, a small plastic paper bag flew from behind to wherever it would go in front of it.
Even then, it made no sudden movements as it continued staggered through the streets, swaying left and right. Its slow, growling noises rumbled, and the dark red veins stretched like webs on the blood-red muscles underneath its torn blood-stained rags pulsed like a heartbeat.
As it was wandering, a figure emerged from the shadows of what once appeared to be where a large, rectangular glass window was placed.
After giving a look around, the shadowy figure-an older middle aged man-laid his eyes on the mutant.
He then made strange, but quick hand signals, his eyes never leaving the wandering figure. After a few seconds, he then began crouch-walking his way towards the mutant.
Slowly stepping around the trash and litter that can create a noise, he walked from a certain direction as he made his way towards the mutant-particularly from the direction of its back.
Just as he closed the distance halfway, suddenly, the slowly stumbling mutant stiffened.
The man also froze.
For a what seemed to be hours for the man, the mutant stood there, its head twitching, its hands clenching and unclenching.
At last, its head fell, and it began slowly stumbling forward once again.
A few seconds later, it fell forward as a heavy object jumped onto its back with a knife in hand.
As soon as the mutant fell flat on the ground, before it could growl or at least struggle and writhe, the man had already plunged the knife deep into the back of its neck.
Unfortunately, the flesh was tough, just as thick-if not more-than even an adult male bear, and the bones-especially the spine-were thicker than most. The man frowned, using his own body weight to push it down, but it didn't seem to help much.
However, just as it fell, from the shadows of a nearby building and a large pile of trash cans, two other figures emerged.
In just a few seconds, along with rapid footsteps banging against the asphalt road, they jumped onto the mutant before it could push the man off.
The mutant growled and roared, knocking a young man who held its left arm down off a few feet away.
He tumbled away with a yelp.
Next, it also knocked another man off its right arm with a sudden yank. Just before it could maul the older man holding it down, who muttered a word of profanity, it suddenly jolted.
Like a machine's plug being pulled out, suddenly disconnected, it abruptly fell onto the ground with a short π΅π©πΆπ₯.
It twitched here and there for many, many terrifying long seconds. Even then, the two who fell away quickly ran up to the mutant and pushed its minute struggling down against the ground. After what seems to be a torturous amount of a single minute, it finally stilled, the rasping and quiet growls fading away.
The older man, along with the other two, sat back with sighs of relief, wiping the sweat off their forehead while breathing raggedly.
"That was too close to comfort. No matter how many times I do this, this is..." the youngest of them said with a tremor in his voice.
"Well, at least we're still alive," the other man said seriously.
"Lez is right," said the older man rather gruffly. "Get used to it Judas. People like us going on expeditions will inevitably make us come across mutants. Most of the time, we can simply run around them, but in this case we can take the risk to kill one..."
Seeing the young man blinking, the older man sighed wearily. "Bah, I'm going on a rant. Guess I'm really getting old after all. Well anyways, we'll doing this for a long while...provided that we're still alive by then."
Shaking his head, he looked down at the stilled mutant's corpse.
"Even with low grade mutant-poison, it still took a minute to put it down. These goddamn freaking mutants..."
With a click of his tongue, he grabbed the knife's hilt, which its blade was still deep into his neck, tugged it out, and began hacking at it.
"Mr. Gregor, what are you doing?" Judas whispered curiously as he looked over the crouched man's shoulders.
"The reason why we took a risk," Gregor said, slightly huffing with each breath. "Their claws are valuable, ya' know, as well as the natural poison in their blood."
"So it sells a lot?"
"That's right," the sharp looking man, Lez, said with a nod. He had already placed the backpack down besides Gregor, handing the older man small glass vials and small plastic bags. "I hear they sell for a lotβ¦especially in Bunker 1, Bunker 5, and Bunker 6."
"Really Lez? Those ones?" Judas asked, scratching his forehead. "Why would they?"
Lez gave him a rather peculiar look, while Gregor shoved whatever contents that seemed banal and disgusting into glass vials and plastic bags mechanically.
"Everyone and their mothers who lives in the ππΆπ―π¬π¦π³π΄ knows why," the older man replied. With an eyebrow raised, he began eying the now shifting young man.
"Have you really been living under a rock after all? Even kids know of this."
While Judas laughed in a show of embarrassment, moving his hand to scratch the back of his head, another person and a hooded masked man approached them.
"Flan, Mr. Corvus, was there anything?" Lez asked seriously. In response, the other man named Flan shrugged while Corvus nodded and pointed down the street.
"Around that corner, there's three mutants just a block down the street. Although slowly, they're making their way here right now. I estimate it would be a minute or so until they can smell something."
"Damn, they'll probably smell the blood, especially now that we're in high wind now," Gregor said with a click of his tongue. Then, with a mix between a grunt and a groan, he pushed himself off the ground. "Let's get out of here while we can, gentlemen."
So quickly shoving the contents back into a backpack, readying themselves while giving quick check over their gear, the five made their way into a nearby building with large, broken glass windows. The remaining glass littered the ground as shards, and they elicited a small crunch as one stepped on it.
...
It was night.
A very quiet, eerie night.
The tired ones hide, while nocturnal ones open their eyes, stalking fools who dare become arrogant and overconfident.
In a well-ventilated building, near the outskirts of the city, covered up very well from letting those who stalk the night hear or smell locate them, was a crackling, lit campfire. Near it were three humanoid figures.
They stood over a makeshift table made of wood as one of them opened a large piece of paper. Placing rocks on the edges of it, they peer down onto it with concentrated and thoughtful looks.
After whispering and muttering for a while, one crossed a "X" at a particular spot, and then another.
"Not here either..." Lez said, tapping on a "X" with his pencil.
"Perhaps we should head east?" Flan suggested at the side. "Perhaps its deeper in the city."
"Perhaps it is..." Gregor mused while rubbing his chin. "Along with hundreds, if not thousands of those bloody mutants. I don't think each one of us can single handedly take on a mutant without risking injury, and that's fatal in such a place. Don't you know the deeper you go, the more mutants there will be? Hell, there might be horrors none have ever seen before."
Hearing that, Flan frowned, while Lez rubbed his eyes with a quiet sigh.
"Of course it's in the deeper part of the city," the latter muttered dryly. "Of course it would be. Why wouldn't it be? It's never easy."
"Things are never easy, especially on the surface," Gregor said with a wry smile. "Don't you already know this by now? That's why we prepared supplies that can last us a fortnight...more so if we can scavenge some loot."
"Well, yeah, but still, I would like to-"
As the three continued to bicker and argue, just a couple meters away near the fire sat Corvus. On a particularly large piece of cement that can function as a seat, he stared into the fire.
Like any other fire, it danced and writhed. Heat exuded from its near smokeless orange-yellow body, the very tips of it flicking here and there. It was a familiar feeling, just like when-
"Mr. Corvus, are you alright?"
Corvus glanced to the side and nodded once before returning to look back at the fire.
Without any invitation, a certain young and seemingly naive man suddenly sat by him on a separate and conveniently placed "seat" beside the fire.
"Excuse me, Mr. Corvus? I would like to ask you a question," Judas began asking.
Before Corvus could even say anything, the young man continued on like a train running nonstop.
"Are you here to look for the...the π΄π±π¦π€πͺπ’π mutant to?"
This time, Corvus looked up, and his eyes looked deep into the young man's eyes. Deep in his eyes, he saw what he would expect from someone so young: excitement, nervousness, eagerness, and-
'Oh?'
After looking at him for a moment longer, he looked back into the fire.
"Why else would I be here?" he said, making Judas laugh in response.
"Well, yeah, that is true," the young man said amidst his laughter full of mirth. Just as abruptly as it came, it fell. "By the way, isn't there a part inside you that thinks such a being is entirely made up?"
"What do you mean?"
"Have you ever thought that the information was fake at all?" Judas asked rather seriously. "Rumors spread so scavengers have an easier time to find prey?"
"Hmmm..." Corvus hummed. Picking up a stick off the ground, he began poking at the fire.
Poke. Poke. Poke.
As he kept poking it, he ignored the shifting young man besides him. After a long minute, the hooded man suddenly dropped the stick onto the floor, making it slightly clatter.
"Well, even if it was fake, I would still take the risk to look for it," Corvus finally said.
"...oh."
A silence fell over them once. Awkward to the shifting young man, but to the hooded, masked figure besides him...well, he was long used to it.
"Why are you looking for it?" Corvus suddenly asked as he still looked at the fire. From his peripheral vision, he saw Judas turn to look at him. The look on his face was one of confusion, as though he didn't expect to be asked such a question.
Then seemingly confirming he did ask him, Judas turned to look at the fire. The red-orange light casting itself across his face, dancing back and forth rhythmically as the young man seemed to ponder.
After a couple seconds, he opened his mouth.
"Well..." Judas began hesitantly. "I...I have heard they have...π΄π΅π³π’π―π¨π¦ π±π°πΈπ¦π³π΄."
Corvus hummed, making the young man shift once again. After a long pause, he gestured with his hands for the hesitant man to continue. Seeing the gesture, Judas apparently thought it was permission for him to continue, as there was more confidence in his hesitant voice as he opened his mouth once more.
"There are certain...rumors," he said slowly, nearly pausing a half-second at each word, almost as though he was carefully thinking of each word that is and will be spoken . "Among the rumors, some say if you capture one...you can obtain this π΄π΅π³π’π―π¨π¦ π±π°πΈπ¦π³."
"Do you know what this "strange power" is?" Corvus asked, but Judas only shook his head.
"Well, no-"
"Then what if this "power" you seek could be a curse?"
The young man made a lopsided smile and shrugged. Looking back at the fire, his smile became one full of nostalgia in remembrance.
"Well, even if it may be a curse, I have to take the risk."
'Uh oh.'
"There's this girl...back home," Judas began with a nostalgic look. The tensions in his shoulders faded away, making it sag downwards. His hands were clasped together, as though he was praying.
'I must put a stop to this before-'
"She's like my adopted daughter-or maybe a little sister? I'm not really sure, but-"
'It's too late-!'
"She's incredibly special. She's smart-way smarter than me. I just know she would reach far greater heights than a lot of people in this world. She's destined to be such a great person."
'I knew it...this was a red fla-'
"So maybe...just maybe...these magic powers would let me help her in some way, even if-"
"Do you know the rules of the underground?" Corvus suddenly asked.
Judas looked back up at him with a questioning gaze. It would not do to leave such a seemingly young man "hanging."
"One of the rules of the ππΆπ―π¬π¦π³π΄ says that things too good to be true may be a curse."
An aura of silence fell upon them again.
That was what happened between Judas and Corvus. An intangible, invisible barrier that existed around them. It wasn't awkward once, nor is it a tense once, but an aura where one has come to a realization. A place to ponder; to question what has just been spoken has merit.
And that's what Judas did, looking back at the fire.
"Do they?" he said after a pause. "I have never heard of it."
The hooded, crow-masked man only looked at him a second longer before looking away.
"Another says to never leave the underground, for the world above hates humans."
The young man only blinked this time.
"What do you mean?"
'Here we go...'
"A long time ago..." Corvus began. "A little after the Bunkers were created, people who were born; people who lived during that time never wanted to return, for they have seen the destruction that was wrought on the surface."
Judas' eyes gleamed with interest as the hooded man continued.
"Yet, humans are curious creatures. Hearing numerous tales and stories; of the bright warm sun, the large blue blanket overhead, and the lush trees and grass...the newer generation wished to venture to the unknown. To them, it is a place of mystery. An unexplored world full of treasures and all kinds of imaginative nonsense."
"Even with word of mouth-of stories told by the people who originally lived on the surface, those who know little to nothing had their curiosity stoked, like wind fanning the flames."
"So they went to the surface," the young man said not in a question, but a firm statement.
"So they went to the surface," Corvus repeated. "And they never came back."
"It was a 100% mortality rate," a voice suddenly pitched in. The two abruptly looked up and saw Gregor walking over, in addition with Lez and Flan behind the older man. "Then curiosity died down, though there were a few who did try, only to no avail. Only many decades later did the dangers of the surface abate, even if only by a slight margin."
"So why do people still go out, then?" Judas asked.
Gregor looked at him with a knowing grin.
"Why are you out here, then?"
Judas blanked out and blinked.
"Me? Uh, I'm just...like the rest of you. Right?"
Gregor looked at him deeply, and Judas' eyes couldn't help but trail away, looking here and there. After a somewhat long moment, Gregor suddenly laughed loudly-a full belly laugh.
"Well, yeah, we explorers are just a bunch of suicidal bastards, aren't we?" he said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes.
Everyone showed a variety of reactions. Some shook their heads with mirth and wry grins, while others chuckled. Corvus, on the other hand, had his mask on, so no one can tell if he was smiling or frowning. Nonetheless, he simply shrugged to show he was listening.
"Well, I'm personally looking for an adventure," Gregor said with a shrug. Looking up at the large starry sky overhead, he seemed to look at something no one present can perceive with their eyes. "Can't say the same for the others. What I can guarantee you, is that in a way similar to the rest of us explorers, we're all searching for something. What we're searching for...is similar and yet unique to each one of us."
The man seemed to grow taller, and his back broader. Underneath the starry night sky that was hidden from view by a ceiling, he seemed too small in comparison; so far and distant from the twinkling stars that none can grasp.
As everyone looked at the man, who had a nostalgic air surrounding him, Corvus quietly looked down at his own hands.
Covered by black leather gloves, he can feel something itchy-or rather something tingly running across the palm of his hands.
Many seconds passed, and before anyone could actually do anything, Gregor suddenly clapped his hands together.
"Well, that's enough chatter for the night," he said, stifling a yawn, followed by stretching his arms upwards. "Just like we planned earlier, gentlemen. We sit in shifts, starting with Mr. Corvus. As for tomorrow...we'll leave it for the 'us' of tomorrow."
...
An hour later, everyone fell asleep around the fire in comfortable sleeping bags.
Sitting by the fire, staring into the flames like an edgy person, was a hooded, masked figure. The flame's light flickered against the cold, black beaked mask that covered his face.
Nevertheless, all fires fade away, as does the dim fire in front of him that casted his shadow far beyond his back, close to where the light began to fade, and where the darkness was prominent.
As Corvus stared into the fire, he began to feel goosebumps crawling across his body. From his legs, to the back of his neck, to the bottom of his arms...he felt them tingling, as though something was approaching him,
He glanced at those who slumber. None of the others had seemingly noticed nor woken up. Judas and Flan shifted in their beds, but otherwise nothing else.
Returning back to looking at the fire, he leaned down and steepled his fingers.
"So close..." Corvus murmured.
The passage of time is what makes the distance between them. A large gap that couldn't possibly be crossed with human hands, like the moon's beauty.
There was a time when he was naive; when was once unable to take hold of what was important to him.
To cherish.
Now, it is just within reach, and for the first time in a long while, he could feel it.
Silently, Corvus got onto his feet. Walking into the darkness, he made it to a wall. Carefully leaning into a slight hole in the wall, he angled himself so he could peer through it.
In the thick of night, from another building afar in the distance, was a very, very small red dot. No, a pair of red dots. They glowed in the dark, like shining lasers staring back at him.
He blinked, and the two dots of eerily glowing red light disappeared like an illusion.