The air felt unnaturally still as Yeon-ah moved through the ruins, her every step deliberate, calculated. She tried to keep her breathing steady, her eyes scanning the broken landscape for any sign of danger. The woman walking ahead of her was silent, her movements graceful and precise. The weight of the sword on Yeon-ah's back was a constant reminder that she had to be ready for anything.
The city they once knew had become a twisted, eerie wasteland. Crumbling buildings, once filled with life, now stood abandoned, their walls scarred and broken. The ground beneath their feet was littered with debris, remnants of a world that had been shattered overnight. Even the air felt different—heavier, colder, as if it carried the weight of all that had been lost.
As they made their way through the narrow streets, Yeon-ah couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her hand instinctively moved to the hilt of her sword. She glanced at the woman leading the way, hoping for some sign of reassurance, but her companion's face remained as unreadable as ever.
"Something feels off," Yeon-ah whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
The woman didn't respond immediately, her eyes still focused on the path ahead. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and steady. "It always does. You get used to it."
Yeon-ah didn't find the words comforting. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the weight of the oppressive silence pressing down on her. Every sound—every creak of metal, every rustle of the wind through the ruins—felt like a threat. The world had become a place of constant danger, and it was taking everything she had just to keep moving forward.
They turned a corner, and Yeon-ah felt her stomach drop. The narrow street they had been walking through opened into a large square, and for a moment, the sight of it took her breath away. The square had once been a park, filled with green trees and benches where people had gathered. Now, it was a barren wasteland, the trees nothing more than withered husks, the benches overturned and broken. The fountain in the center was cracked and dry, its stone surface covered in a layer of grime and dust.
"Stay close," the woman said quietly, her voice cutting through Yeon-ah's thoughts. She didn't need to be told twice. The square felt wrong, like it was hiding something dangerous beneath its surface.
As they crossed the square, the silence grew heavier, more oppressive. The only sound was the faint clatter of their footsteps against the cracked pavement. Yeon-ah's grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her muscles tensing as she scanned the area. She could feel it—something wasn't right.
The woman suddenly stopped, holding up her hand. Yeon-ah froze, her breath catching in her throat as she followed the woman's gaze. For a moment, there was nothing—just the empty square, the stillness of the ruins. But then, out of the corner of her eye, Yeon-ah saw it.
Movement.
It was subtle, barely noticeable—a shadow shifting behind one of the crumbling buildings at the edge of the square. But it was enough. Yeon-ah's heart leaped into her throat, her body going rigid with fear.
"We're not alone," the woman whispered, her voice so quiet that Yeon-ah almost didn't hear it.
Yeon-ah swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she tightened her grip on her sword. She didn't know what was out there, but whatever it was, it was watching them.
The woman turned to face her, her expression cold and focused. "Stay close. Move quietly. If they spot us, we fight."
Yeon-ah nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her senses heightened as they began to move again, their steps slow and deliberate. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her to run, to get as far away from this place as possible, but she forced herself to stay calm, to follow the woman's lead.
As they reached the edge of the square, Yeon-ah caught another glimpse of movement—this time, a figure darting between the buildings, too fast for her to make out any details. Her stomach twisted with fear. Whatever was out there, it was getting closer.
Suddenly, the woman stopped again, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows. "We've been spotted."
Before Yeon-ah could react, the figure emerged from the shadows, a man with wild eyes and a crazed expression, his clothes torn and filthy. He was holding a rusted blade, and without warning, he charged at them, his movements frantic and unpredictable.
Yeon-ah's heart raced as she drew her sword, her mind a blur of panic and adrenaline. But before she could even lift her weapon, the woman was already moving. Her sword flashed through the air, the blade meeting the man's attack with precise, calculated movements. The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the square, and in a matter of seconds, the woman had disarmed the man, her sword cutting through his weapon with ease.
The man stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock. For a moment, Yeon-ah thought he might try to attack again, but then he turned and fled, disappearing into the ruins as quickly as he had appeared.
Yeon-ah stood frozen, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She had been too slow, too afraid to act. She glanced at the woman, who was calmly sheathing her sword as if nothing had happened.
"That wasn't the real threat," the woman said, her voice steady.
Yeon-ah blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze to the shadows at the edge of the square, her expression hardening.
Then Yeon-ah heard it—a low, guttural growl, coming from the darkness. Her blood ran cold as the sound echoed through the square, sending a chill down her spine.
"Deborers," the woman muttered, her hand once again gripping the hilt of her sword.
Yeon-ah's heart pounded in her chest, her fear spiking as she realized what they were up against. The Deborers—mutated creatures born from the apocalypse—were faster, stronger, and far more dangerous than any human. And they were always hungry.
The shadows shifted, and Yeon-ah caught a glimpse of movement—twisted, hulking figures emerging from the darkness. Their black eyes gleamed in the faint light, and their grotesque, misshapen bodies moved with unnatural speed and grace.
Yeon-ah's breath caught in her throat, her hand trembling as she raised her sword. She wasn't ready for this. She had barely survived the last encounter, and now they were facing something far worse.
The woman's voice cut through her fear, sharp and commanding. "Get ready. They're coming."
The growls grew louder, closer, until the Deborers were upon them, their twisted forms moving with terrifying speed. Yeon-ah's heart raced as she braced herself for the fight, her body trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline.
The battle was about to begin.