Within the tranquil realm of endless grass and the radiant shiny tree, Adam's body floats, suspended midair. The magic enveloping him shimmers with the ancient power of the older Adam, who stands nearby, his expression focused but strained. Above them, the glowing orb Gand descends from the shiny tree, pulsing with an urgent rhythm.
"The darkness is coming," Gand warns, his voice resonant and calm yet edged with urgency. "I'll stabilize it as much as I can while you try to wake him up."
Suddenly, the serene realm begins to fracture as dark holes rip through the sky and ground, spreading chaos like spreading ink. The grass quivers, and the air itself hums with instability.
Gand rises into the sky, his light intensifying as he releases waves of radiant magic. The energy pushes back against the encroaching darkness, forming a barrier that slows the chaos. "Go! I'll hold this for as long as I can!"
The older Adam closes his eyes, steadying himself. He chants softly, weaving his hands in intricate patterns as glowing magical strings begin to form. The strings, vibrant and pulsating with energy, extend from his hands and dive into the younger Adam's head, sinking deep into his consciousness.
Inside, the older Adam finds himself surrounded by clouds of darkness, thick and oppressive, suffocating Adam's mind. With a flick of his hand, the older Adam casts magic to dissipate the dark clouds, unraveling their hold. Just as the last of the darkness begins to clear, a powerful surge of light magic courses out of the younger Adam, overwhelming the older Adam.
He gasps as the light invades his mind, pulling him into a vivid vision.
In first-person view, the older Adam sees small, youthful hands clutching a worn baseball. The perspective turns upward, revealing two smiling children: a younger kid, Adam, full of energy and determination, and a younger kid, Eve, wearing a catcher's mitt, her eyes sparkling with encouragement.
"I've been training a lot on my throws," the voice from the older Adam's perspective says with playful confidence. "You better be ready for this insanely fast throw!"
Adam grins, gripping his bat tightly. "This time, my team's going to win!"
The ball is thrown, and Adam swings. The sound of the bat connecting with the ball echoes loudly, and the ball soars into the sky, climbing higher and higher until it seems to merge with the sun.
The vision begins to blur, fading into a white haze. The older Adam collapses to his knees in the grass realm, clutching his head. "What was that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with confusion and awe.
Above him, Gand's voice booms, cutting through the chaos. "Focus, child!"
The older Adam shakes off the disorientation, steadying his breath. Rising to his feet, he renews his magic, sending another wave of strings into the younger Adam's mind.
He works tirelessly, piecing together fractured memories and healing the emotional wounds. As he does, he suddenly hears voices, with each second that passes the voices gets louder and clearer.
The older Adam's eyes widen as distant voices pierce through the veil of Adam's consciousness, echoing clearly.
"Adam! Come on, wake up! We need you!"
"Adam! Please, get up, you're not dead yet!"
He pauses mid-spell, his breath catching as he recognizes the voices: Kiren's steadfast determination and Megan's heartfelt plea. Their words, filled with desperation and care, ripple through the realm like waves of light, breaking apart the lingering darkness in Adam's mind.
The once-chaotic clouds of darkness fade rapidly, dissipating with each word spoken. The older Adam feels the strain on his magic lessen, as if the external voices are bolstering his efforts.
"Keep calling to him," the older Adam mutters under his breath, a faint smile forming. "You're making all the difference."
Around the realm, the dark holes collapse one by one, leaving behind a tranquil stillness. The air grows lighter, the grass greener, and the radiant shiny tree hums softly, its energy restored.
With a gentle flutter of his eyelids, Adam awakens. His eyes, wide with confusion and clarity, scan the serene realm. He blinks against the soft light filtering through the shiny tree's leaves, his gaze falling upon the older Adam, who approaches him slowly.
In his hands, the older Adam holds a shiny apple, its surface gleaming with an ethereal glow. He kneels beside Adam and offers the fruit with a knowing look.
"Time to get back to work" the older Adam says softly, his voice steady yet filled with relief.
Back in the ruined Sky City, a brilliant burst of light erupts from Adam's chest, radiating outward in pulses of vibrant magic. The ground beneath him hums with energy, and faint streaks of golden light course through his veins as life slowly returns to his body.
Kiren gasps, his eyes lighting up with joy. "He's coming back!" he shouts, jumping up and down. Huey wiggles on his shoulder, mimicking the excitement.
As Adam takes a deep, shuddering breath, his chest rises, and his eyes flutter open. He sits up, blinking at the devastation around him. "What... happened?" he mutters, his voice hoarse and uncertain.
Without hesitation, Kiren and Huey dive onto Adam, wrapping him in a chaotic, celebratory hug. "You're alive!" Kiren cheers, his grip tightening as Huey slimes around Adam's neck in his version of affection.
Megan watches with a relieved smile, her shoulders finally relaxing. She steps closer and explains, "When we all fell, Jasee came and used her magic to teleport everyone else away. We all got scattered."
Adam listens intently, his gaze softening as he looks at each of them. Overwhelmed by emotion, he pulls Megan into the hug with Kiren and Huey, holding them all tightly. "Thank you. All of you," he says, his voice cracking. "I was falling into a darkness again.... I couldn't escape, but your voices… they brought me back."
Megan places a hand on Adam's shoulder, her eyes filled with determination. "You're here now, and that's what matters. We're not done yet. We've got to meet the others at Nemura City."
Kiren claps his hands together, already buzzing with energy. "The RV's still nearby! We can use it to get there faster."
Without waiting for a reply, he sprints toward the direction of the RV, Huey perched happily on his shoulder. Megan and Adam exchange a brief look, a mix of weariness and hope, before following close behind.
As they walk together through the ruins, the promise of regrouping with their friends fuels their steps.
The morning light casts a somber glow over Mai as she finishes placing the final rocks over Nakao's makeshift grave. Her hands tremble as she wipes her tears, the weight of loss heavy on her chest. Standing in the quiet solitude of the road, she grips the crowbar tightly, and begins walking with slow, deliberate steps. The long road ahead stretches endlessly, but she moves forward, her resolve unbroken despite her grief.
On the opposite side of the world, the bustling chaos of Sharpoon City comes alive as Nhia bursts out of a crumbling storefront, two large bags of food slung over his shoulders. His breathing is labored, and his heart pounds as he sprints down the street, weaving through abandoned cars and debris. Behind him, a dozen zombies give chase, their snarls growing louder as they close in. Nhia glances back briefly, muttering under his breath, "Why can't they ever just let me eat in peace?!" He ducks into a narrow alley, formulating his next escape plan.
Meanwhile, Rune and Simbad traverse a winding dirt path surrounded by dense foliage. Rune strides confidently, his eyes fixed on the horizon as he points to the distance. "I can sense it," he says, his voice firm. "My sword is that way. It's faint, but it's there."
Simbad follows closely behind, his hands resting on the hilt of a borrowed blade. "Let's hope whoever took it hasn't gotten too far." he replies, scanning the surroundings warily for any signs of trouble.
Elsewhere in the world, the early morning sun warms the rooftop where Jean lies in deep slumber. The soft creak of a hatch opening breaks the stillness, and three figures emerge cautiously. One of them, moving with deliberate silence, approaches Jean and reaches out, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
The chaos of Sharpoon City intensifies as Nhia cuts a sharp corner, his lungs burning as he sprints away from the relentless horde of zombies. The echo of their guttural growls fills the air, but when he rounds another corner, a figure stands in his path. The man's presence is calm, deliberate, and imposing. Before Nhia can process the situation, the man summons a glowing magic spike from thin air and hurls it with deadly precision.
Nhia ducks just in time, hearing the sickening thud of the spike piercing the skull of a zombie behind him. Staggering back to his feet, Nhia watches as the man summons another spike and rushes forward, dispatching the remaining zombies in fluid, practiced movements.
Amazed, Nhia catches his breath and bows in gratitude. "Thank you! That was incredible—" he begins, but his words trail off as he looks at the man's face, his sharp features striking a familiar chord. Nhia's eyes widen. "You're… Mr. Kaika's son. Loris, right?"
Loris's expression shifts, his eyes narrowing with recognition. "You're the son of the overlord, Dober…" he says coldly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "If you're alive, then my father must have failed his mission."
Nhia takes a step back, his instincts screaming at him to flee, as Loris conjures another spike and thrusts it toward him. Nhia narrowly dodges the attack, his bag of food spilling to the ground. "What are you doing?!" Nhia shouts, his tone desperate.
"Finishing the job my father couldn't," Loris replies darkly, hurling more spikes with unnerving accuracy. Nhia evades them as best he can, but the relentless assault forces him to abandon his supplies, food scattering across the street.
The chase leads Nhia into a sprawling intersection, and his heart sinks as he sees waves of zombies converging from every direction. Trapped, he braces himself for the end—but Loris storms in, his spikes cutting through the oncoming undead with brutal efficiency.
"I won't let you die to the dead," Loris growls, his voice sharp with anger. "Because it's my job to avenge my father!"
Taking advantage of the chaos, Nhia darts away, but his relief is short-lived. Suddenly, a firm hand grabs him from behind, and before he can react, a bag is shoved over his head. His muffled protests go unheard as he's hauled into a van.
The vehicle speeds off, leaving the chaos of Sharpoon City behind. Inside the van, Nhia's mind races as he struggles against his bonds, his thoughts split between Loris's unexpected vendetta and the mysterious person who has now captured him.
Moments later, Nhia blinks rapidly, his vision adjusting to the dimly lit space as the bag is pulled from his head. The room is confined, cluttered with old equipment and shelves filled with random supplies. Across from him stands a man clad in a dark coat, his face obscured by a black mask. The faint glow of red eyes in the mask's sockets gives him an eerie presence.
The man tilts his head slightly before introducing himself. "Grimar," he says, his voice calm but with an edge. "Why is the son of Dober wandering in the city of Sharpoon? Of all places, you pick the most dangerous city—before the apocalypse, even."
Nhia shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his hands instinctively tightening around the fabric of his pants. "I... don't know how I got here," he admits. "I just woke up here. I'm trying to survive and make my way back to Nemura City. That's it."
Grimar lets out a low chuckle. "Nemura City? That's quite the trek from here, kid. But you do realize your head still carries a bounty, right? Loris has already found you. And he's not just anyone—he's connected to the higher-ups. It won't be long before word spreads that you're in Sharpoon city. When it does, they'll send all of their goons after you."
Nhia straightens his posture, forcing confidence into his voice. "Well, they better be ready for a tough fight. I'm a magic user now."
Grimar's head tilts again, the glow in his mask intensifying as he steps closer. "A magic user? Is that so?" he says, skepticism thick in his tone. "Didn't look like it when Loris had you running for your life."
Nhia stammers, "Well, uh, my magic… it has conditions, okay? I can't use it all the time."
Grimar doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he pulls out a strikingly ornate pistol from a holster on his side. The weapon gleams in the dim light, its intricate carvings glowing faintly. He points the barrel directly at Nhia's face.
"Bad luck for you," Grimar mutters, his voice colder now. "I've got a personal grudge against magic users."
Nhia's heart races, and he throws his hands up defensively. "Hold up! Hold up! We can talk this out!" he pleads, his voice cracking.
Grimar's finger hovers over the trigger for a moment before he lets out a sharp laugh. "Relax, kid," he says, lowering the gun. "The old me would've blown your brains out without a second thought… but I've changed. Lucky you."
Relief washes over Nhia, and he exhales shakily. "What do you even want from me?"
Grimar leans in, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "Leverage," he says.
Nhia frowns, his confusion evident. "Leverage? What kind of leverage?"
Grimar doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he turns away, the glow in his mask dimming slightly. "You'll see," he says cryptically, leaving Nhia's mind spinning with possibilities.
Nhia's eyes dart around the room, drawn to a wall plastered with sheets of paper. Strings and lines connect locations, photographs, and scribbled notes in a chaotic but deliberate network. He scans the images and text, his gaze catching on one specific photo. It's Mr. Kaika.
Grimar strides over to the wall, his movements calm but purposeful. He grabs a red marker from a shelf and, without hesitation, draws a large X over Mr. Kaika's photo. The sharp squeak of the marker sends a chill down Nhia's spine.
"What's all this?" Nhia asks cautiously, his eyes darting to another picture. His own face stares back at him, surrounded by circles, arrows, and frantic scrawls of text. Every connection on the board seems to converge toward his photo.
Grimar doesn't answer right away. He caps the marker, turning to face Nhia. "Everyone wants you dead and it's because of your bloodline."
Nhia swallows hard, his mind racing, "Well, it seems like, you're not a part of the higher-ups, what is your grand plan?"
Grimar takes off his mask as he gives Nhia a look of confidence " To end all of the corruption, even though it's probably pointless now since the world has already ended... but they still live and I still got a job to do."