Seven Awakeners gathered in the dimly lit room, their faces barely illuminated by the faint glow of a single lamp. The atmosphere was heavy, the tension palpable.
Marcus was the first to speak, his voice low and resolute.
"We can't report this to the company. We have to recover the supplies ourselves."
The other six nodded in agreement. No one objected.
They all understood the stakes. If the higher-ups at Genesis Biotech found out about this blunder, the consequences would be catastrophic.
But one of the younger men frowned, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Marcus, but we don't even have a single lead. How are we supposed to find them?"
"There will be clues," Marcus replied, his eyes glinting coldly in the shadows. His tone carried an unshakable confidence. "Stealing that much material without leaving a trace? Impossible. And I'm certain that 'creature' hasn't left this mall yet."
"What about the survivors?" Billy asked, his brows furrowed, his voice laced with frustration. "They're scared out of their minds. How can we expect them to help us track down a monster? There's no way they'll agree to this."
Marcus's expression darkened instantly, his tone as cold and sharp as ice. "They don't have to agree. They'll do it whether they like it or not. This company isn't a charity. We saved them so they could help us move supplies, not so we could babysit a bunch of useless freeloaders. In this world, only those who prove their worth deserve to survive."
The room fell silent. The other six said nothing, but their eyes betrayed their agreement.
Marcus's meaning was clear—if it came down to it, they'd use the survivors as bait to recover the supplies. No matter the cost.
After all, this wasn't just any ordinary stash. These were resources worth billions. In a world like this, a few human lives were insignificant in comparison.
...
When the meeting ended, Marcus returned to the survivors, his face as stern as ever.
Standing in the center of the group, he spoke in a deep, commanding voice. "Listen up, everyone. We've made a decision. The supplies are missing, and we can't just sit around and do nothing. In times like these, we need to work together to get them back."
The crowd fell silent, stunned by his words.
"Go look for the supplies?" someone muttered, disbelief evident in their tone.
"Is this a joke?" another person shouted. "It's pitch black out there, and there might still be monsters in the mall! If you want to go, fine, but don't expect us to!"
"Exactly! Five Awakeners were killed! What chance do we have as regular people? We'd just be walking to our deaths!"
"Dealing with monsters is your job! We don't have any powers—why should we risk our lives for this?"
The group erupted into chaos, voices overlapping in a cacophony of fear and defiance. Every face was etched with terror and resistance.
Marcus's expression grew darker with every passing second, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Finally, he raised his hand and shouted, his voice booming like thunder. "Enough! You're going, whether you like it or not! I'm not obligated to protect any of you. If you think you can just sit back and do nothing, then I'll throw you out of the mall right now!"
His words hit the crowd like a sledgehammer, silencing them instantly.
No one dared to speak. The oppressive aura radiating from Marcus was suffocating, a stark reminder of the power and authority Awakeners held in this post-apocalyptic world.
Still, a few people began to waver.
"To be fair, we wouldn't have survived this long without the supplies from the warehouse. It's only right that we help look for them."
"Yeah, there's so many of us. What's there to be scared of?"
"Besides, that monster might just have some weird abilities. It doesn't mean it's unbeatable."
"True. Every ability has a weakness."
The murmurs of doubt slowly shifted into reluctant agreement. Some of the survivors were starting to change their minds.
Seeing this, Marcus seized the moment. His voice dropped lower, carrying a hint of temptation. "Listen carefully. I, Marcus, promise you this: anyone who finds the supplies or provides useful information will be rewarded with enough food to last an entire year."
"A year's worth of food?!"
The announcement hit the crowd like a bomb.
In this world, food was more valuable than gold. Even when they had access to the warehouse, their daily rations were strictly limited—just enough to stave off hunger. A year's worth of food was an unimaginable luxury.
The eyes of several burly men lit up with determination, as if they'd just been injected with adrenaline.
"Let's go! I want to see what this so-called monster really is!"
"Exactly! There's so many of us—what's there to be afraid of?"
"Whatever it is, it's probably just good at sneaking around and ambushing people!"
The crowd's mood began to shift, their fear gradually replaced by a growing sense of defiance. More and more people started to respond, their voices rising in agreement.
Some turned on flashlights, while others used their phones to light the way. Beams of light crisscrossed the darkness, pushing back the oppressive shadows that surrounded them.
In small groups of three or five, the survivors began to spread out, searching every corner of the supermarket.
But in the shadows, away from the flickering lights and the growing commotion, Ethan stood silently, his cold gaze fixed on the scene before him. His lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"Interesting," he murmured to himself, before quietly retreating into the depths of the darkness, his figure melting away like a shadow swallowed by the void.
...
The shopping mall was enormous.
In its prime, it could accommodate tens of thousands of customers. But now, with only two hundred survivors scattered throughout its vast halls, the space felt eerily empty and desolate.
The survivors moved in small groups, their flashlight beams flickering like fragile fireflies in the dark, always on the verge of being consumed by the surrounding blackness.
As time passed, the groups drifted further and further apart.
Some began to slack off, slipping into corners to pretend they were searching. Others gave up entirely, curling up in hidden spots, hoping to avoid the dangerous task altogether.
But Ethan's attention wasn't on these ordinary survivors.
His gaze was locked firmly on the seven Awakeners.
To him, the regular humans were of no interest—they were weak, their "flavor" unappealing, not worth his time.
The Awakeners, however, were different. They moved cautiously, staying close together, never letting their guard down or straying too far from one another.
"Marcus, I feel like… someone's following us," one of the female Awakeners suddenly said, stopping in her tracks. Her brows furrowed as she glanced over her shoulder, her voice low and uneasy.
She instinctively looked back, but all she saw was an expanse of impenetrable darkness. Nothing moved.
Marcus shot her a glance, his tone calm but edged with impatience. "Don't scare yourself. You're just too tense."
"Yeah, Marcus is right," Billy chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "I've felt the same way walking alone at night before—like someone's watching me. It's just your mind playing tricks on you. The more you think about it, the worse it gets. Just stop thinking about it, and you'll be fine."
"Really?" The girl's voice still carried a hint of doubt, but she didn't press the issue further.
The group continued their search, moving methodically from the first-floor lobby to the third floor. Their footsteps echoed through the cavernous mall, the sound unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence.
Despite combing through nearly every corner, they found nothing.
"Damn it!" Marcus muttered, standing by the railing on the third floor. His brows were deeply furrowed, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. He leaned over the edge, scanning the open space below. From his vantage point, he could see the survivors scattered across the various floors, their flashlight beams darting through the darkness like restless fireflies.
The search continued, but so far, there had been no reports of injuries or casualties.
"Could it be… that the monster really left already?" Billy asked, standing beside Marcus. His tone was hesitant, as if he didn't fully believe his own words. "Think about it—it stole all those supplies and killed five of us. Why would it stick around and risk getting caught?"
"Maybe," Marcus replied, though his frown deepened. Something about the situation didn't sit right with him.
Hearing this, the female Awakener let out a long sigh of relief, her tightly wound nerves finally beginning to relax.
She raised her hand, clutching her stomach with an embarrassed expression. "I… I can't hold it anymore. I've been too scared to go to the bathroom, but now I really can't wait. I need to go."
Marcus nodded but still looked uneasy. "Grace, go with Ella. The two of you can watch each other's backs."
"What?" Grace threw up her hands in exasperation. "She needs someone to go with her just to use the bathroom? Seriously?"
"Stop complaining and go," Marcus ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Grace sighed, clearly annoyed, but followed Ella anyway.
The two turned a corner and entered a deserted hallway.
They didn't head for the restroom—such formalities had long since disappeared in this post-apocalyptic world. Finding a hidden spot to relieve oneself was the new normal.
The hallway was even darker than the rest of the mall, the kind of darkness where you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. But as Awakeners, their enhanced vision allowed them to make out their surroundings, even in such poor lighting.
"Hurry up!" Grace said impatiently, standing with her back to Ella. Her tone was sharp, tinged with irritation.
"I know, I know," Ella replied, walking over to a wall. She unfastened her pants and was just about to squat down when—
A sudden, overwhelming sense of dread washed over her.
It was a feeling she couldn't put into words, a primal instinct screaming at her, as if an invisible force had wrapped itself around her, suffocating her.
As an Awakener, her senses were far sharper than those of ordinary people. And right now, every fiber of her being was screaming the same thing: Danger.
Extreme danger.
"Filthy…"
A low, chilling voice emerged from the darkness, like the whisper of a demon crawling out of the depths of hell. It carried a mocking, icy tone that sent shivers down her spine.
Ella's head snapped up, her pupils contracting sharply.
From the shadows, a figure slowly emerged. His face was deathly pale, almost ghostlike, his eyes cold and detached. His lips curled into a faint, mocking smile, as if silently condemning her actions—How could you stoop so low as to relieve yourself here?
"You…" Ella's voice trembled, her body frozen in place. Instinctively, her hand began to rise, ready to activate her Awakener ability.
But she was too slow.
A flash of cold light streaked through the air.
The blade of a knife pierced her temple with surgical precision.
...