Erwin moved through the hallways of the facility with deliberate steps, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings for any opportunity to slip past the guards. Lyria's constant presence behind him was as irritating as a fly buzzing around his ear. Her light footsteps and occasional hums made it impossible to forget she was there.
"You know," Lyria said, breaking the silence, "you're not very good at sneaking around for someone who clearly wants to escape."
"Why are you still following me? You know what, don't answer that, and I'm not sneaking," Erwin replied flatly, without turning back.
"Ah, so you're just strolling toward certain death? Bold choice."
Erwin ignored her. She'd been tagging along ever since their earlier encounter, and while her commentary was grating, he wasn't entirely sure if she was a threat or just a nuisance. The small dog trotting beside her, Pugs, didn't help. The tiny creature looked like a high-society ornament, yet it had an air of misplaced grandeur.
"I must say," Pugs piped up in a voice that dripped with condescension, "this establishment's security is embarrassingly lax. If I had thumbs, I could open half the doors here."
Erwin stopped abruptly, turning to face them both. "Why are you still following me?"
Lyria smiled innocently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, you're interesting. And besides, I thought you might need help navigating this place."
"I don't need help," he said coldly.
Pugs tilted his head, his big eyes narrowing as if scrutinizing Erwin. "You might not need help, but you clearly lack direction. Might I suggest a map? Or perhaps a sense of humor?"
Erwin sighed and continued walking. He couldn't waste energy arguing with a con artist and her sarcastic dog. His goal was simple: get out of this facility and figure out what the world outside had become.
After what felt like hours of wandering, Erwin found himself in a large, poorly guarded storage room. Crates were stacked haphazardly, and in the corner was a service door labeled "Authorized Personnel Only."
"That's our way out," he muttered to himself.
"Correction," Pugs interjected, "that's your way out. We, however, have no intention of sneaking through a glorified broom closet."
"Then stay here," Erwin snapped, pushing open the door.
"Not a chance," Lyria chimed in, slipping through the door behind him. "I'm too invested in this adventure now."
Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose but didn't argue further. The trio stepped into a narrow utility corridor that smelled faintly of oil and something metallic. A few turns later, they emerged into the open air.
-
The world beyond the facility was unrecognizable. What had once been bustling streets were now overgrown with strange, bioluminescent flora. Buildings stood in ruins or were warped into bizarre, otherworldly shapes. The sky was a perpetual twilight, with swirling hues of purple and orange.
"Wow," Lyria said, shading her eyes with her hand. "Looks like the apocalypse threw a rave party."
Erwin didn't respond. His focus was on finding familiar landmarks, anything that could anchor him to the world he once knew.
Pugs sniffed disdainfully. "The decor is atrocious. Who designed this? A blind chaos demon?"
"Do you ever stop talking?" Erwin asked.
"Not when the material is this rich," Pugs shot back.
Ignoring the banter, Erwin navigated through the transformed city. Every step felt surreal. Streets he had once walked were now twisted with jagged terrain, and the occasional NPC-like figure wandered aimlessly, their faces void of emotion.
---
After hours of searching, Erwin finally stood before what should have been his home. The address was correct, but the structure was not.
The sleek apartment complex he once called home had been replaced by a quaint retirement home. A wooden sign out front read, "Elderwood Haven: A Place to Rest."
For a moment, Erwin just stared, his mind grappling with the absurdity of it all. The idea that his home had become a sanctuary for elderly survivors was both baffling and oddly poetic.
"I can't decide if this is tragic or hilarious," Lyria said, peeking over his shoulder.
Pugs snorted. "Definitely tragic. Though I wouldn't mind a warm bed and some pudding."
Erwin turned away from the retirement home, his jaw clenched. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find, but this was not it.
He made his way to where his small sales shop used to stand. His heart sank further when he saw that the building had been demolished, replaced by a plot of overgrown weeds. A single rusty signpost remained, tilting precariously as if mocking him.
"Well," Lyria said, crossing her arms, "looks like you're officially homeless. Welcome to the club."
Erwin glared at her. "What do you want, Lyria?"
"I told you before," she said with a grin. "I'm here to help. You may not have noticed, but you're in a bit of a pickle. No home, no allies, no system. You're basically a walking disaster waiting to happen."
"And your solution is to trade me?"
Lyria feigned shock, placing a hand over her chest. "Trade you? Oh, heavens no! Who told you that?"
Erwin's eyes narrowed. "I'm not stupid. You're trying to sell me off to the highest bidder, aren't you?"
"Well," Lyria said with a sheepish shrug, "you can't blame a girl for trying. But seriously, I'm offering you a way to survive. What else are you going to do? Wander around aimlessly and hope the world doesn't eat you alive?"
Erwin didn't respond. As much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. The world had changed beyond recognition, and he was at a severe disadvantage.
"I'll manage," he said, turning away.
"Far from you," Erwin replied sharply as he began to walk.
Lyria, undeterred, followed him. "You're going to come around eventually. I'm like a bad habit—impossible to shake."
Pugs trotted beside her, his tiny legs working overtime to keep up. "She's persistent, I'll give her that. Annoying, but persistent."
Erwin didn't bother looking back. He had no idea where he was going, but one thing was clear—he had no choice but to find a way to survive in this strange, unforgiving world.
Before they could walk far from each other, a few guards surrounded them, their weapons drawn and their stances rigid. Erwin and Lyria instinctively began to step back, their eyes scanning the room for any possible exit.
"Easy now," Lyria muttered, her hands subtly moving toward her belt, where a small blade was hidden. "I really hate these kinds of surprises."
Erwin remained silent, his gaze flicking between the guards, analyzing their formation. Despite his calm exterior, his muscles were tense, ready to react if the situation escalated.
Suddenly, a commanding voice echoed through the hallway, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Lower your weapons!"
The guards hesitated before swiftly obeying, lowering their weapons with military precision. From the group emerged a man whose presence was almost otherworldly.
Alexander Diablo stepped forward, and for a moment, even Lyria seemed taken aback. He was strikingly beautiful, his features so flawless they seemed almost sculpted. His long, golden blonde hair cascaded down his back, catching the faint light and shimmering like molten gold. His bright blue eyes glimmered with an intensity that seemed to pierce through anyone who dared meet his gaze.
He wore glittering armor, each piece polished to perfection, reflecting the light in a way that made him seem as if he were glowing. Intricate engravings of mythical beasts adorned the plates, their craftsmanship so fine they appeared almost alive. Around his neck was a pendant in the shape of a lion's head, symbolizing power and authority.
Despite his regal appearance, there was a warmth in his expression, a stark contrast to the tension in the air. His voice was smooth yet commanding as he spoke again. "I apologize for the hostile confrontation. My men can be… overzealous at times."
A young man stopped a few steps away from Erwin and Lyria, his piercing gaze briefly locking onto each of them before offering a small, disarming smile. "My name is Alexander Diablo, the future Revient of the Beast Guild."
"Oh you have to be kidding me, there is another one." Erwin deadpanned.