'How the hell did we ended up like this?'

A lone man thought, standing atop a broken building, his long black coat flapping in the wind. A jagged scar marred his left cheek, its irregular edge catching the faint light.

His eyes, weary from years of vigilance, scanned the horizon. No signs of enemy presence registered, yet his instincts remained on high alert. The landscape stretched out before him, a barren expanse of rubble and shattered dreams.

Barely any buildings or houses remained standing. The sky, cloudy and dark, threatened rain at any moment. He couldn't recall the last time he saw the sun; these clouds seemed perpetual.

Everything started more than 20 years ago, when cracks in space formed here and there. At first, nothing happened. Anyone could enter through the cracks, and there was only wilderness beyond. Strange plants and animals could be found, along with fruits and other miscellaneous things scattered randomly.

Venturing far through the cracks was perilous. Unpredictable closures trapped many, never to return. The risks soon became apparent, and fear spread.

As time passed, people grew accustomed to the cracks' presence. They adapted, learning to live with the constant threat.

But on an unremarkable day, the unthinkable happened. One ordinary day, without warning, they arrived. The invaders emerged from the cracks, merciless and ruthless. Their onslaught was relentless, killing everything in their path.

No sanctuary existed, no place was spared. Millions, perhaps billions, perished in a single day. Cities were reduced to smoldering ruins, their once-majestic skyscrapers now skeletal remains.

Chaos reigned. Bullets flew everywhere, ripping through buildings and bodies alike. Bombs blasted, killing monsters and people indiscriminately. In the distance, nukes painted the horizon with fiery mushroom clouds. Tanks fired relentlessly, shaking the earth beneath. Jets rained hell from the skies.

Initially, military compounds and secret bases served as refuges. Heavy artillery held back the invaders, buying time. But as resources dwindle - ammunition, water, food - desperation set in. Simple necessities became scarce, and people turned on each other to survive.

Strongholds began to fall. Despair and fear spread like poison. As all seemed lost, a miracle occurred.

A faint spark of salvation emerged, defying the crushing despair. People worldwide began to manifest extraordinary powers, and with them, humanity collectively pushed back against the invaders.

Those with powers soon discovered that consuming resources from the cracks granted energy. This energy, with training, could be harnessed to strengthen their bodies in various ways.

Hope rekindled. Cities were recaptured, and attempts were made to reestablish order.

However, stronger invaders arrived, unfazed by death. Humanity responded with unity and determination to grow stronger.

As years passed...

He sighed, the cold wind sending shivers down his spine. Looking up at the clouds, he thought, 'I hope it doesn't rain acid tonight.' Turning away, he walked toward the nearby camp.

As he approached, the small gathering of people turned to watch him. Katelyn, her piercing blue locks framing her exhausted face, asked, "Anything?"

Her eyes, sunken from lack of sleep, searched for hope, her worn, torn clothes mirrored the desperation surrounding them.

Twenty pairs of eyes awaited his report. He shook his head, and Katelyn handed him a plate of scavenged scraps.

As he sat on a broken stone by the fire, he stared at the unappetizing meal. Katelyn intercepted his gaze. "Don't start."

For ten years, they've survived on whatever they could find. Edible or not, it was sustenance. Resources had vanished, and fresh food was a luxury.

The oceans, once teeming with life, now lay polluted and barren. Inland wildlife was scarce. The damage stretched far and wide, forcing them to roam in search of sustenance.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by crackling sparks. His gaze swept the group, noticing the exhaustion etched on every face. The accumulative toll of endless battles had pushed them to the precipice.

"We're carrying the weight of humanity on our shoulders," he said, meeting each pair of eyes. "This will be our last fight. We won't survive the next battle. Hold nothing back!"

They were the last remnants of humanity, as far as he knew. He prayed there were no others, sparing them the unrelenting hell.

The group had giving their all, ceaselessly fighting. How many times had they considered surrender? Yet, it wasn't in their nature to yield.

Fifty had become twenty in a matter of weeks. Their last battle had left them battered. Yet, in this fleeting respite, they found solace.

Their enemies had vanished, but the calm was deceptive. Tonight would be their last time to take proper rest, for they knew their end was near.

"Don't get injured," he urged, his face solemn. "If you're done, go out with a bang! When the fight starts, stick close together. We'll hurt them on last time, take as many to hell as we can. Make them suffer!"

He reached for his bag and tossed a bottle to a muscular man, across the fire.

"I've been saving it," the scarred man smirked. "Now or never, I suppose."

Albert, aka Beer, towered over the group, his broad shoulders and chiseled physique commanded attention.

Beer's eyes widened as he grasped the precious bottle of whiskey. "Where the hell did you get this? I've been dying to get my hands on this shit for days!!"

"Don't remember," the scarred man replied, shrugging.

Chris, the youngest, approached Albert with excitement. "No way, Boss! You've been keeping it all to yourself?"

Mi-Sun, a South Korean survivor with dark and pale skin, stepped forward, a triumphant smile on her face. "I have another."

Old Man Rick emerged from the shadows, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Saved the best for last." He produced a bag, revealing three coveted bottles.

Albert beamed with joy. "What the hell, old man, you're killing us here!"

Dimitri contributed two vodka bottles, while Luis arrived with a wooden barrel of homemade tequila.

As Albert served the drinks, the group's spirits soared. Broken glasses and metal containers became impromptu cups.

For one magical night, they forgot the darkness outside. Laughter echoed, and Lucia's soothing melody filled the air. Some danced, others sang, while others shared stories of the past.

Kate sat beside me, her presence comforting as I savored the unappetizing meal. Years of hardship had numbed our taste buds.

I grasped her hand, kissing it gently. Our eyes locked, love shining bright. No words were needed; years of fighting side by side had created an unbreakable bond.

Albert, slightly drunk, approached us with two glasses of liquor. "Not drinking tonight?"

I smirked, taking a glass. Kate took the other.

The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling fire. The group drew closer, their faces aglow with warmth and curiosity.

Albert raised his glass. "To having beer in hell after we die!"

"HELL YEAH!" Chris exclaimed, swaying unsteadily.

The group echoed agreement, except Mi-Sun, who shook her head, smiling. "Idiot, you only think of beer."

I raised my glass, feeling an overwhelming sense of joy. "Never did I imagine where or when I'd die, but if I did, I hoped it would be with loved ones. Standing with you all in our last battle...you bastards deserve to go to hell with me!"

Everyone erupted into laughter and cheers.

Albert cheered, "Not even hell will be enough!!"

Mi-Sun screamed, "Hell will tremble at our arrival!!"

The group's fervor grew.

"Today, we celebrate..." I said, reclaiming attention.

"Tomorrow, will be a GOOD DAY TO DIE!!!!"

I downed the drink in one gulp. The liquor seared my throat.

"Tomorrow, it's a GOOD DAY TO DIE!!" Dimitri yelled.

"HELL YEAH!!" Chris echoed.

The group joined, screams and cheers echoing into the night.

For one fleeting moment, worries vanished.

We let go, surrendering to the freedom of defiance.

It was a night everyone needed, and deserved. As they rested, I sat alone, lost in the fire's hypnotic glow.

Sometimes, my mind would wander into the past or simply go blank. Kate joked it was age catching up with me.

But tonight was different. The looming final battle stirred restlessness within.

I couldn't sleep, so I sat, mesmerized by the flames.

With nothing to do, I grabbed a twig and played with the fire. Sparks flew, and the flames danced.

My goal was balance – keeping the fire alive, yet contained. A small moment, but entertaining.

As I played with the flames, my gaze fell upon the worn leather bracelet on my arm. A treasured relic from before the monsters invaded.

This simple strap stored mana, but its capacity was unparalleled. Despite years of use, I'd never filled it to the brim.

A shiver ran down my spine as I pondered unleashing its full potential. "What if...?" The thought sent sparks flying, but also fear.

I tossed the log into the fire, watching embers dance upward.

"Sigh...no rain tonight, at least." With that, I bid the night adieu.

Inside our makeshift tent, Kate's gentle breathing beckoned. I settled beside her, my lips brushing against her soft cheek.

Warmth spread through our entwined bodies as I wrapped my arms around her.

Sleep claimed me the moment I closed my eyes.