Prologue

Arcus

Year 2156: Six years after the present

It was a dark, heavy, blizzardous night. Arcus forced himself against the will of the wind. He had no choice. He would die if he couldn't find electricity before the sun peeked into the sky. 

"Thermal suit is low battery. Please recharge," an electronic voice of a woman warned in his owl-shaped gas mask. His thermal vision had died, and soon it would be his night vision.

"F*ck!" he gritted as he knew what would be next. He'll be frozen to death just like those figures scattered under the rimes. He continued embedding his numbing feet one by one against the white lumpy ground to move forward. The gusts were too much to handle, yet he covered himself with his weaponized arms to maintain his balance. The night might be dangerous but he'd prefer dying trying. 

This wasn't like this before. Long ago, the city suffered from dry and warm air, caused by the immensity of toxic gasses wrapped around the Earth, trapping the piercing rays of the sun inside the surface. Those who were unluckily born with a lacking genetic acquisition of the vaccine called "Cerenovaxia" died of skin and lung diseases as soon as they got out of their mother's womb. Everyone thought that they were already in hell, but now, what kind of hell was this?

All of a sudden, a rotten piece of a hand was gripped on his boots. To his anger, he kicked it out and it tore apart easily as it ejected in front of him.

 "I have no time for a useless like you!"

Humans nowadays don't simply die. Their souls might be detached from the world in their critical state, but the bodies remain moving–mindlessly–attacking flesh to fill up their endless hunger. Those aggressive moving corpses were called "Ghouls." Being dumb disgusted him. He'll do everything not to be one of them.

The decapitated hand was carried by the wind backward when it was trampled by a smoldering foot. That single sheen of red light hiding under the storm gave him hope. Arcus pushed himself more until the cluster of mist became a huge bulky man with skin like burning coal, striking against the dark and biting cold. It was different from any walking corpse–this one tried its best to adapt to the environment so it mutated. This type of mutated ghoul was called "Smolder."

The Smolder recognized his presence. Seeing an alluring prey made its mouth fountained with thick magma saliva, fully anticipating savoring every inch of the young man's flesh and blood. A prey who was supposed to be hunted was hunting its own predator. 

Bursting with all the energy, the Smolder ran aggressively to capture its meal. Every furious step it took made the floor melt and leave a track of charcoal stain. At this rate, the wind was supporting its phase.

Arcus sighed in disappointment inside his owl-like gas mask and looked at the monster with his emotionless eyes, "Not that I'm looking for."

He aimed the crossbow installed in his right arm at the ghoul's knee. It was more convenient if he had a gun. But since bullets were rare to find anymore, he resorted to creating an arm crossbow and reusable multi-purpose arrow from the scraps around. Without hesitation, Arcus pulled the trigger and quickly released a pointed moon-shaped blade tailed with chains rolling out from the metal box attached in front of his belt.

The blade didn't worship the opposing winds as it passed through the knee of the Smolder, slicing it apart, and making it stumble on the ground. Not letting the monster crawl, Arcus quickly pressed a switch on his metal box and the chains reeled back to its hive, dragging the crescent blade backward. He whipped his arms to create a wave through the chains and made the blade stand up, skating against the ice ground. He swiped his arms left to maneuver the blade's direction. It passed through the monster's arm and sliced until the blade arrow finally slipped back to its nest. The Smolder growled while still trying its best to crawl using a single arm and leg, like a worm, yet hoping to feast on the young man's flesh not caring about its condition.

Arcus leaned on his knees while watching the hot glowing monster in the dark begging to reach him. He sighed again, but in relief, "This is the only option I have, at least extending my life by about a couple of days."

Quintessence Nightmare | mvcabusas