The early morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of ash and dew as Yeon-ah stood outside the bunker, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. For the first time in what felt like weeks, the world around her was still. There were no sounds of creatures lurking, no distant roars or crashes. Just silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
She exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. Her body was still sore from the endless training, her muscles aching with the effort. But today was different. Today, there was no drill, no test. Just a brief moment of peace.
Inside, the woman was preparing their supplies—rationing out what little food they had left and organizing their weapons. Even in the quiet moments, she never truly rested, always alert, always thinking ahead. Yeon-ah had come to admire that about her, even if it felt like an impossible standard to live up to.
But this morning, Yeon-ah allowed herself a moment to reflect. To think about how far she had come since the day she had first met the woman. She wasn't the same scared, helpless girl she had been. She had learned to fight, to think for herself. She had learned what it meant to survive.
"You're up early," the woman's voice broke the silence, and Yeon-ah turned to see her standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable as always.
Yeon-ah shrugged, turning back to the horizon. "Couldn't sleep."
The woman stepped forward, her eyes scanning the landscape as if searching for something. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable.
"We'll be moving again soon," the woman said finally, her voice calm but firm. "There's no point in staying here much longer."
Yeon-ah nodded, though the idea of leaving the bunker filled her with a sense of unease. It had become a temporary haven, a place where she could focus on getting stronger without the constant threat of danger. But out there, beyond the walls, the world was still as dangerous as ever.
"Where will we go?" Yeon-ah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman didn't answer right away. She crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "There's a place," she said after a long pause. "A location I've heard about. It's supposed to be safe."
Yeon-ah raised an eyebrow. "Safe? Like this place?"
The woman's lips twitched slightly, almost as if she were suppressing a smirk. "Safer than here."
That didn't exactly fill Yeon-ah with confidence, but she didn't argue. She had learned that the woman rarely gave more information than was necessary, and pressing for details usually led to more silence.
They stood there for a while longer, the cold wind biting at their skin. Yeon-ah's mind wandered, thinking back to all they had been through in the past few weeks. The creatures they had fought, the near-death experiences, the relentless training. It all felt like a blur, but at the same time, every moment was etched into her memory.
"You're not the same person you were when we first met," the woman said suddenly, her voice cutting through Yeon-ah's thoughts.
Yeon-ah blinked, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?"
The woman's gaze was steady, her expression as unreadable as ever. "You've changed. You're stronger now. You're starting to understand what it takes to survive."
There was no warmth in her words, no praise. But for some reason, they hit harder than anything else the woman had said before.
Yeon-ah felt a lump form in her throat, but she swallowed it down, nodding slowly. "I've had a good teacher."
The woman didn't respond to that. She simply turned and walked back toward the bunker, leaving Yeon-ah alone with her thoughts once more.
As the sun slowly rose over the horizon, Yeon-ah took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever came next. She had survived this long, and she would keep surviving, no matter what.
But deep down, she knew that the real challenges were still ahead.
Later that day, as they prepared to leave the bunker, Yeon-ah couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her chest. There was something about the woman's words that lingered in her mind—something that felt like both a warning and a promise.
"You're not the same person you were..."
Yeon-ah knew that was true. She had changed. But as she packed her things and tightened her grip on her blade, she couldn't help but wonder if she had changed enough. Was she really strong enough to face whatever was out there? Was she ready?
"Focus," the woman's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "We leave in ten minutes."
Yeon-ah nodded, pushing her doubts aside. There was no room for hesitation. Not now.
They left the bunker in silence, the cold wind biting at their skin as they moved through the desolate landscape. The city was a distant memory now, and the open fields stretched out before them, empty and barren. The only sounds were the crunch of their boots against the gravel and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
As they walked, Yeon-ah's mind wandered back to the creatures they had fought—the Deborer. She still didn't fully understand what they were or where they had come from, but she knew they weren't the only danger out here. There were other threats, other forces at play, and the woman knew more than she was letting on.
But Yeon-ah didn't press for answers. Not yet. She knew that when the time came, the woman would tell her what she needed to know. Until then, she would focus on surviving.
They had been walking for hours when the woman suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the area ahead. Yeon-ah tensed, gripping the hilt of her blade.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman didn't answer right away. She stepped forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her own blade as she moved cautiously through the field.
Then Yeon-ah saw it.
In the distance, something moved—something large and dark, shifting through the shadows like a predator stalking its prey.
Her heart raced, the familiar surge of adrenaline flooding her veins. She recognized that shape, that hulking form. It was a Deborer, but this one was different. It moved with a purpose, its glowing eyes scanning the area as if it were searching for something.
Or someone.
Yeon-ah's breath caught in her throat as the woman motioned for her to stay low. They crouched behind a nearby ridge, watching as the creature continued its search.
"We have to move," the woman whispered, her voice tense. "Now."
Yeon-ah nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as they carefully made their way through the field, staying low to avoid detection. The Deborer was close—too close—but they couldn't afford to stay in one place for long.
As they moved, Yeon-ah's mind raced. This was it. This was what the woman had been preparing her for. The training, the drills, the relentless pushing—it had all led to this moment.
They had to survive.
And Yeon-ah was ready.