Rune's consciousness flickers, the world around him a hazy blur. Faint voices echo in his mind, their tones curious and mischievous.
"Wow, look how cool this sword is!"
"Let's take it!"
"Hey, isn't this his?"
"We can just take it—he's dying anyway."
"We can't leave him like this."
"Okay, okay, we heal him first, and then he gives us thanks by giving us his sword."
"Deal?"
"Deal, deal!"
The voices fade into silence, and Rune groans as his vision finally clears. He finds himself lying on the side of an empty road under a pale morning sky. Slowly sitting up, he winces, expecting pain from his injuries, but instead, he finds his body fully healed.
He touches the places where wounds should be, his confusion growing. "What the…?" Rune mutters, scanning the area for answers.
The voices from before echo in his memory, and instinctively, he raises his hand to summon his sword. A faint shimmer of energy sparks, then fizzles out. Nothing happens. Panic flashes across his face as he tries again, but the weapon remains absent.
"Great," he mutters bitterly.
Pushing himself to his feet, Rune closes his eyes and focuses. He senses a faint trace of magic nearby—a familiar energy. His heart skips a beat as he recognizes it. "Simbad…"
Following the magical trail, Rune navigates through a stretch of forest until he reaches a shadowy cave. Inside, he spots Simbad sprawled on the ground, napping peacefully. Rune approaches cautiously, kneeling down to check his companion's condition.
Like Rune, Simbad's wounds are gone, his breathing steady. Relieved but puzzled, Rune gently shakes him awake.
Simbad's eyes flutter open, and he bolts upright in shock. "Rune?! You're alive! No, we're alive!"
"Barely," Rune replies with a weak smile.
Simbad glances down at his body, his hands running over his healed injuries. "What… what happened? The last thing I remember is Sky City…"
"Same here," Rune says, sitting beside him. "I woke up by the road, healed. No idea how I got there. You?"
Simbad furrows his brow, struggling to recall. "It's all fuzzy. I remember… voices, I think. Kids? Yeah, definitely kids. But they didn't want anything from me since, well, all I had was a broken katana."
Rune's eyes narrow as the pieces click together. "Those kids," he murmurs. "They helped me too… but they took my sword."
Simbad blinks, surprised. "Took your sword? You can just summon it back, right?"
Rune shakes his head, frustration evident in his voice. "I tried. Something's interfering. It's like there's another magic force blocking me from summoning it."
Simbad leans back, crossing his arms as he processes the situation. "That's… weird. Magic like that doesn't just happen."
Rune exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. "Whatever it is, I'll figure it out later. Right now, we need to focus. If we both made it out alive, then maybe the others did too."
Simbad nods, his expression hardening with resolve. "Agreed. Like what Mai once said, we'll meet up at Nemura city!"
Together, they step out of the cave, the morning light casting long shadows behind them as they set off to reunite with their scattered team.
Meanwhile in a far away city, Nhia groans as his eyes flutter open, his body aching but intact. The sensation of a warm, wet tongue dragging across his face draws his attention, and he looks down to see a dobermann dog licking his wounds as it is slowly healing. Surprised but grateful, he smiles weakly and pats the dog on the head.
"Thanks, buddy," he mutters, sitting up.
Glancing around, Nhia realizes he's in a high-rise building. The room is dimly lit, with cracked walls and debris scattered across the floor. He pushes himself to his feet, wincing slightly, and walks to a shattered window. His jaw drops as he looks out over the sprawling metropolis beneath him.
"This… this is Sharpoon City," Nhia says, his voice filled with disbelief. "How did I end up on the other side of the world?"
Billboards and neon signs dot the skyline, their vibrant colors clashing with the eerie emptiness of the streets below. The enormity of the situation begins to sink in.
"I need to get back," he mutters, summoning his magic book. As the tome materializes in his hands, he flips to a page displaying a glowing drawing of Jasee. Without hesitation, he channels his magic, focusing on teleporting to her realm. A burst of energy surrounds him, and in an instant, he vanishes.
Only to reappear in the next room.
Nhia stumbles, startled by the sudden shift. A low growl catches his attention, and he turns to see a zombie lunging at him. Acting on instinct, Nhia grabs a broken chair and smashes it over the creature's head, sending it crumpling to the floor. Breathing heavily, he slumps into a nearby chair.
"Great," he mutters. "I'm terrible at using her magic."
After a moment to collect himself, Nhia tries again, focusing harder this time. The book glows once more, and he vanishes—only to reappear in another room, this one packed with a dozen snarling zombies.
"Oh, come on!" he shouts, barely avoiding their grasp. With a desperate burst of energy, he teleports again, this time landing in an empty room.
Panting, Nhia opens the book again, his frustration mounting. He stares at Jasee's drawing, now greyed out. His heart sinks. "What the hell is going on?" he mutters, flipping through the pages.
He stops at Shawn's drawing and notices it, too, is greyed out. A glowing timer appears beneath it, displaying a countdown: One year until usable. Nhia's eyes widen in shock.
"One year?!" he exclaims. Turning back to Jasee's page, he notices her spell is locked for a day, with a faint mastery level indicator reading Level 2. He flips back to Shawn's page, which reads Level 4.
Nhia sits down, overwhelmed. "So these spells have levels… and timers? I'm not sure I like this."
The dobermann trots back into the room and magically jumps back into his chest, his stomach then growls loudly, reminding him of more immediate concerns.
"Alright, one crisis at a time," Nhia sighs, standing up.
He signs "I got so many questions to ask that I can't even begin to answer."
He leaves the room to search for food—and perhaps some clarity amidst the chaos.
Nakao slowly regains consciousness, her head throbs, and a sharp, gnawing pain in her shoulder reminds her of the still-bleeding wound. She clutches it tightly, her pale fingers stained red. Her vision is blurry, but she makes out the road stretching ahead and the back of the truck, where Mai lies unconscious, her own wounds seeping blood into the fabric beneath her.
A small group of zombies claw futilely at the edge of the truck, unable to climb aboard. Nakao turns to the back seat and notices a lifeless figure—a dead man clutching a crowbar. She pries the weapon from his rigid grasp and forces herself to move.
Nakao stumbles to the back of the trunk, her legs trembling beneath her, and with several desperate swings, dispatches the zombies before they can climb aboard. She drops to her knees, panting heavily, as the crowbar clatters to the ground.
Turning to Mai, Nakao examines her wounds. Her heart sinks; the blood loss is severe. Nakao realizes they're both in critical condition. Breathing heavily, she musters the strength to search the other cars nearby. In one vehicle, she finds a needle and thread and uses it to painstakingly stitch their wounds closed. The effort leaves her nearly fainting, but she presses on.
Returning to Mai's side, Nakao assesses her condition again. Both of them have lost too much blood—it's only a matter of time. Desperation fuels her as she searches another car. In the front seat, a doctor's corpse slumps over the wheel. Nakao pushes the body aside and rummages through the trunk, where she finds a blood administration set. Her breath catches as a spark of hope ignites in her chest.
Dragging the supplies back to the truck, Nakao sets up a blood transfusion for Mai. With trembling hands, she inserts the needle into her own arm and begins the process. Her voice is a faint whisper as she looks down at Mai's pale face.
"It's okay," she says, her voice shaking. "My blood type is O. I can give it to anyone…"
She tilts her head back, gazing at the dim, clouded sky. Tears well up and spill over, tracing paths down her bloodstained cheeks. "The group needs you more than me," she whispers, her voice breaking.
Her vision darkens, and she slumps against the side of the truck, her breathing slowing.
Mai stirs moments later, her eyelids fluttering open. Confused, she notices the blood transfusion equipment and follows the line to Nakao, slumped motionless nearby. Mai sits up, wincing at the soreness in her body, and crawls to Nakao's side.
"Nakao?" Mai calls softly, shaking her shoulder. "Wake up…"
When there's no response, Mai presses her fingers to Nakao's neck, searching for a pulse. A realization hits her like a dagger to the chest—Nakao is dead.
"No…" Mai whispers, her voice trembling. "No, no, no!"
Tears flood her eyes as she clutches Nakao's lifeless body, her cries of anguish piercing the quiet night. The sound draws the attention of nearby L-Star zombies. Their glowing, unsettling forms emerge from the shadows, shuffling toward the truck.
The zombies claw and stumble, trying to reach the back of the truck, but Mai doesn't care to notice. She's consumed by grief, cradling Nakao's body and sobbing uncontrollably.
The growls grow louder, but Mai doesn't move. The flames of her sorrow burn brighter than any fear of the undead.
The morning sun filters through the cracks of the cabin walls, casting a golden hue over the scene as Kiren stirs awake. He blinks groggily, his body sore but alive. However, something feels off. Before he can fully process, suddenly gags and spits him out like a projectile. Kiren lands unceremoniously on the wooden floor, coughing and drenched in slime and slugs.
"What the—?!" Kiren exclaims, wiping himself off as best he can. He looks around, bewildered, and sees Megan standing nearby, leaning against the wall with a small smile of relief.
"Care to explain?" Kiren demands, motioning to the slime and slugs covering him.
Megan tilts her head. "Huey found the both of us after… whatever happened. We were in bad shape. He was desperate to heal us, so he went deep into some cave and found these shiny slugs. They're apparently magical—have some kind of healing properties. He… well, he stuffed himself full of them and brought them back to us."
Kiren's eyes widen as he turns to Huey, who stands proudly, his body shimmering faintly as the shiny slugs squirm visibly inside him.
"Are you serious?" Kiren asks, his voice a mix of amazement and disbelief.
Megan nods. "They healed our wounds. Without them, we'd probably be dead right now."
Kiren hesitates, then steps forward and pats Huey's slimy head with a squelching sound. " Thank you so so much. We're so lucky and grateful to have you as part of the family." He bows deeply, and Huey beams with pride, his slimy form jiggling happily.
The mood shifts as Kiren straightens. "But… what about the others?" he asks.
Megan's expression darkens slightly, and she crosses her arms. "I don't know," she admits. "But Mai's plan was clear. If we ever got separated, we're supposed to meet at Nemura City. That's our best chance."
Kiren shakes his head, his voice rising with urgency. "What if no one shows up there? What if they need help now? We can't just go with that plan without knowing for sure!"
"Kiren," Megan starts, trying to reason with him, but he's already at the cabin door.
"I'm going back," he declares, stepping outside and scanning the wilderness. The forest stretches in every direction, the faint scent of pine carried on the breeze. "We have to check just in case if anyone needs our help."
Megan follows him out, Huey perched on her shoulder. "Do you have any idea how far we are from Sky City? It's at least a full day's walk from here!" she argues, her frustration evident.
"I know," Kiren replies, determination blazing in his eyes. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not leaving anyone behind."
Without another word, he starts walking toward the direction of Sky City. Megan sighs heavily, shaking her head. "Stubborn as always," she mutters before jogging to catch up. Huey wiggles happily, seemingly unbothered by the tension, as they follow Kiren into the dense forest.
The moonlight casts a cold glow over the ruined Sky City as Kiren and Megan sit amidst the destruction. The city is eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the occasional creak of rubble shifting in the wind. Kiren leans back against a piece of debris, staring at the vast night sky.
Megan sits beside him, arms crossed as she gazes into the distance. "Well," she says softly, "no one's here. We should assume they're already heading to Nemura City."
Kiren lets out a frustrated sigh. "How are you so sure they all made it?"
"I'm not," Megan admits, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. "But I have a little faith that they did. Sometimes, that's all you can hold onto."
Kiren shakes his head and looks at the sky again. The faint stars seem to mock him with their stillness. "What really happened here?" he asks, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Joker was so strong, and we couldn't beat him. I want to know how it all went so wrong."
Before Megan can respond, Huey lets out a sharp noise, drawing their attention. He bounces excitedly in a particular direction, signaling them toward a pile of rubble.
"What is it, Huey?" Megan asks, getting to her feet.
Huey wiggles insistently, and the two follow him. They begin digging through the debris, hands clawing at the broken stone and twisted metal. After a few tense minutes, they uncover a lifeless body—Adam's.
Kiren stumbles back, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Why is he still like this?" he whispers, his voice trembling. "Isn't he supposed to be back already?"
Megan crouches beside Adam's body, her hands hesitating over him. She examines his still form, searching for answers but finding none. "This doesn't make sense," she mutters. "He's supposed to come back… right?"
Huey hops onto Adam's chest, his tiny body glowing faintly. The magic swirls around him as he focuses his energy, and suddenly, images begin to flicker in his body
"What is this?" Kiren asks, awestruck.
"It's Huey," Megan explains, her tone a mix of wonder and realization. "I think he's restored enough magic to show us what happened through his eyes."
The images play out before them like a living memory, recounting Adam's final moments—his desperate battle with Joker, the pain, the sadness etched into his expression as he fell. Kiren watches, his fists clenching as the truth sinks in.
When the vision ends, the three sit in silence for a moment, the weight of what they've seen pressing down on them.
Kiren finally speaks, his voice raw. "Why is he still dead? Why hasn't he come back?"
Megan takes a deep breath, her eyes fixed on Adam. "I think I know why," she says quietly. "Knowing him, he's probably mentally broken. He looked so sad in those last moments, like he'd lost everything. Maybe… maybe he can't come back because his soul is broken."
Huey lets out another noise, breaking the somber moment. He gestures emphatically, his small body almost vibrating with urgency. Megan tilts her head, listening intently.
"He says…" Megan pauses, then nods. "Huey thinks we should call out to him. Maybe if we remind him he's not alone, his spirit will be uplifted enough to come back."
Kiren's eyes light up, and he looks at Huey with newfound admiration. "That's a great idea, Huey!"