The wind whispered through shattered glass and rusted beams, carrying the scent of ash and old blood.
From the highest floor of a crumbling mall tower, Mirex watched the dead city breathe.
Below him stretched the ruins of what had once been a thriving market district.
Now, it was just another graveyard—its buildings hollow, its streets cracked and silent.
In his palm, a small device pulsed.
A single blinking dot, slow but steady, was drifting toward him.
It drew closer every second.
Mirex didn't move, he didn't need to.
He was a precision instrument.
A weapon shaped like a man.
Suddenly, something stirred behind him.
A growl came low and sharp—a wet, gurgling sound that promised violence.
From the skeletal remains of a collapsed department store, a beast emerged.
Mutated. Half-muscled, half-bone. Its limbs twisted in too many places, teeth forming a jagged crown around its open maw.
It was a sight that would render any sane person in complete fear.
It was slowly circling it's potential next meal.
Mirex turned slightly.
His face was as passive as ever, with not even a hint of panic or fear in his eyes.
He raised one hand.
There was no flash of light, no explosive burst of energy.
Instead, the air bent.
The creature stopped mid-pounce, suspended a meter off the ground.
Time itself seemed to trembled around it—a visible shimmer, like heat rising from broken pavement.
Then it began to decay.
Slowly It's flesh shriveled, bone buckled.
Its roar never had the chance to come out.
It's muscles spasmed in reverse, collapsing inward, skin turned brittle and cracked.
Within seconds, it had become a pile of grey dust, scattered by the wind.
Mirex lowered his hand.
The effect ended like a switch flipped.
No emotion.
Not even satisfaction graced his face.
He focus went back to the signal.
It was still blinking.
It was growing closer.
He holstered the scanner and turned toward the edge of the ruined tower. His coat fluttered in the wind, but Mirex himself seemed to absorb the gusts, moving with a subtle, unnerving stillness that defied the elements.
The anomaly was nearby. He didn't know what it looked like yet, didn't need to.
The signal was clean, and unique.
Whatever had activated… it wasn't random.
He adjusted his gloves. Checked his gear.
And then began moving again.
They called him The Echo Blade not because he was loud, but because when he passed through, nothing else spoke.
**********
"So, what did you guys talk about?" Rill's voice, usually gruff and direct, held a subtle note of curiosity.
Ashen, Rill, and Jax were currently the vanguard, cutting a path ahead of the slower convoy.
Their boots crunched on scattered debris, the only sounds accompanying them as they navigated the silent, hollowed-out arteries of what was once a thriving metropolis.
Before the Pulse, this city would have been a breathtaking monument to human ambition, towering skyscrapers, their glass facades mirroring the sky, reaching for the clouds like crystalline giants, bustling avenues choked with sleek, self-driving vehicles; vibrant neon signs painting the nights in a kaleidoscope of colors; the constant, exhilarating thrum of millions of lives interwoven in a dizzying dance of commerce and culture. It would have been a place of blinding light and endless motion.
Now, it was a skeletal graveyard. The glass towers were shattered teeth against a bruised sky, their empty windows like hollow eyes staring out at a dead world.
Rust wept from exposed rebar, staining concrete like old blood.
Streets were choked with the husks of overturned cars, perpetually crashed in apocalyptic gridlock, their paint faded, tires disintegrated.
The air hung thick with dust and the metallic tang of decay, punctuated by the occasional mournful groan of twisting metal or the scuttling of unseen, scavenged life.
Every block was a monument to human failure, a desolate, suffocating testament to the destruction.
They had been moving for the entire day now.
The sun was now bleeding orange and purple into the western horizon, painting the urban decay in hues of desperate beauty.
Moving at night, where the real dangers emerged – mutated creatures with sharpened senses, desperate raiders, or worse, the chilling glint of a drone's light – wasn't an option. Their current task was urgent, find a suitable place to lay camp before darkness fully claimed the ruins.
Ashen turned to Rill, who had asked the question, his expression blank.
"What?"
"You and Mara," Rill clarified, her gaze sharp, assessing. "What did you guys talk about down there?"
"Oh, that."
Ashen felt a prickle of unease.
Apparently, the fact that he'd suddenly developed 'super-speed' and caught Rill's falling bowl in a blur of motion had been swept under the rug – or at least, Mara had managed to control the information. Luckily, only a handful of people had witnessed it, and Mara had probably silenced their confusion effectively.
But Rill and Jax, who had been with him when the Nexis incident happened, knew something unexplainable had happened.
They were the only ones who might have an inkling of what was truly going on with him, even if they couldn't possibly guess the half of it.
"Not much, really," He kept his eyes on the crumbling cityscape ahead. "She just said we'd continue... after we find a new camp."
"I see,"
Rill mumbled, her voice low, lost in thought as she scanned the skeletal remains of a building, her brow furrowed.
She didn't press, but Ashen could feel her unspoken questions, a heavy presence in the twilight air.
Then Jax, who had been impatiently hopping ahead, turned around with a wide, stupid grin plastered across his face.
"So, do you know how you did it yet?" he piped up, his youthful energy almost unsettling in the somber environment.
Ashen blinked. "Did what?" he questioned back.
"You know!" Jax bounced on the balls of his feet, gesturing wildly. "The super fast move thing you used to catch Rill's bowl! Can you do it again? Was it like, a burst of adrenaline? Or some kind of new superpower?"