No human could survive such catastrophic injuries—flesh and muscle scorched and exposed, body ravaged beyond repair. No ordinary human, that is. Unless their body had been replaced with machinery, no one could stand upright bearing such severe burns, lacerations, and gunshot wounds.

  Danan, witnessing Kaas’s body shrouded in black, worm-like tendrils that knitted together his damaged flesh, sensed the greatest crisis of his twenty-two years of life. He aimed his assault rifle at the man and squeezed the trigger, firing relentlessly.

  “You think that pea-shooter can kill me, fool?” Kaas sneered.

  Bullets tore through Kaas’s body, ripping flesh and spilling blood, but in the next instant, writhing worms surged from his heart, sealing the wounds and expelling the bullets.

  “You’ve got two choices,” Kaas said. “Die cleanly or struggle pathetically and die anyway. So, relic hunter… how do you want to go? Consider it mercy—I’m letting you choose.”

  Those… things, the wriggling, insect-like worms covering Kaas’s body, were likely a relic from the ruins. Their effects were unknown, their potential danger immeasurable.

  A body-integrated, organ-invasive relic. Danan had heard rumors of such artifacts—implanted into flesh, they granted extraordinary abilities. The black worms swarming Kaas’s body were undoubtedly of that kind. Staring at Kaas, his face obscured by a writhing tide of insects, Danan drew the sword Heres from his waist, its blade gleaming like thin ice, and pointed it at the man.

  Kill or be killed. Let the enemy live, and you’re the one who dies next. So, face anyone with murderous intent with everything you’ve got—man, woman, or child, show no mercy.

  “…Kaas,” a voice commanded. “The opponent seems serious. Eliminate him.”

  “Got it,” Kaas replied.

  In an instant, Kaas’s form vanished. A silver-eyed girl’s chilling gaze flicked toward Danan, and his world spun into chaos.

  Agony screamed through his spine and shoulder. His breath caught, and he slammed into the dome’s wall, vomiting blood and bile, choking violently.

  What happened? Why was he sprawled on the ground? Why was the dome’s door on the opposite side?

  “Let me tell you one thing, relic hunter,” Kaas said, his heavy footsteps pounding Danan’s eardrums.

  “You picked the wrong guy to mess with.”

  A beast’s foot—clad in thick black steel—crushed Danan’s mechanical arm. The grotesque creature, a fusion of man and machine, leered with a hideous grin.

  “Lowlifes like you need to choose your fights carefully,” Kaas said. “You ought to know who’s prey and who’s predator. Listen up—you chose the wrong enemy.”

  From a massive arm, a mix of machinery and flesh, three razor-sharp claws extended. They slashed through Danan’s body armor, lapping at the gushing blood and sinking fangs into his flesh. Mind-numbing pain and terror gripped him at the sight of the transformed man—a monstrous hybrid of human face, beastly fangs, and mechanical parts. A single, enormous eye glared from Kaas’s chest, radiating unhinged madness. Kaas tore off Danan’s mechanical right arm, gulping the artificial blood spurting from the joint.

  “Scream! Cry! Wail, relic hunter!” Kaas roared. “Have you lowlifes forgotten how to weep? Oh, I bet you have! You’re not even human anymore—you’re less than beasts!”

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  “…”

  “What, no energy left to scream? How boring,” Kaas said. “That’s why—”

  A flash. The blade of Heres, still clutched in Danan’s hand, sliced through Kaas’s right arm like it was jelly, drenching the youth in a torrent of crimson blood.

  “—!” Kaas gasped.

  Shock? Confusion? The madness swirling in Kaas’s eyes shifted to wariness. He staggered back, pressing the severed arm to the stump, where it fused and healed.

  “…Long ago,” Danan rasped.

  An old man once told him:

  “Battle is about living or dying. There’s no such thing as a ‘clean death’ or a ‘pathetic struggle.’”

  Fighting wasn’t about winning or losing—it was a simple, ultimate binary: live or die. If you fell and died, it was because you didn’t try hard enough. If you wanted to live, you had to claw your way through until the very last moment. That’s what the old man who raised Danan always said.

  Blood flowed, wounds burned. Crimson streamed from his body armor, pooling at his feet.

  No one would look at him and think he could fight. Staggering with every step, knees trembling—how could someone like that kill him? Yet, why? Why did Kaas feel fear toward this half-dead relic hunter? Why did he see him as a threat?

  Baring bloodstained canines through the writhing worms, Kaas wrapped his right arm in tendrils, rewriting his body’s structure and genetic code, activating the bio-fused metal embedded in his cells.

  Relic hunters—especially lowlife scum—were never worth considering as enemies. Clad in shoddy gear, driven by base desires, they were trash meant to die like dust. So, kill him. For Canaan’s wishes, for the white-clad girl’s will, eliminate the obstacle.

  With Kaas’s roar, the worms coating his arm exploded outward, revealing a multi-barreled black-iron mortar. Six grenade launchers and a retractable blade for close combat—an arsenal far too excessive for one man—unfolded. He aimed the cannons at Danan and fired with intent.

  A deafening roar and a blaze of fire. The dome shook with violent tremors. The chaotically fired grenades miraculously missed Danan, instead obliterating the terminal storing critical data.

  “…”

  How could he kill this man?

  “…”

  How could he kill Kaas, this black-iron beast?

  “…!”

  But he had to. If he didn’t kill him, he’d be the one killed. His life would end, meaningless and worthless.

  Move. Ignore the pain, forget the blood, and fight. Bullets didn’t work, his mechanical arm was gone, but he still had cards to play. Gripping Heres, Danan screamed through the blood-clogged gaps of his gas mask, locked eyes with Kaas’s gun barrel, and charged.

  “Kaas,” the voice said again.

  “…”

  “Your other half is approaching. Prepare to intercept.”

  “…Right.”

  Kaas’s gaze shot upward, his gun barrel following. As he pulled the trigger—

  “…Still getting in my way, Eve?” Kaas growled.

  A silver-haired girl crashed through the dome’s ceiling, slicing an incoming grenade in half with a single stroke. She drove a glass-like feather into Kaas’s torso.

  “You’re still alive?” Kaas said. “I thought you died long ago, but you’re annoyingly tenacious.”

  “I have no business with you,” the girl replied. “Get away from Canaan, vermin.”

  “Vermin? That’s rich coming from you!” Kaas spat.

  Blade clashed against silver wing. The six wings extending from the girl’s back to her waist effortlessly deflected Kaas’s attacks, slicing through flesh.

  The battle, transcending human limits, left Danan’s resolve and fighting spirit in the dust, cooling his reckless impulse to fight and shifting his focus to the other enemy.

  The silver-winged girl, matching or surpassing Kaas, didn’t matter. Let her deal with him. Danan’s target was the white-clad girl, Canaan. If she was Kaas’s commander, killing her would end this.

  Keeping Kaas and the girl’s battle in his peripheral vision, Danan crept toward Canaan, who was operating a terminal. He raised Heres to her neck, drawing back for a strike.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” a voice said.

  A silver blade pierced his abdomen. Six silver wings extended from Canaan’s back, filling his vision.

  “You can die now,” Canaan said. “I didn’t care much either way, but if you’re trying to take my life, that changes things. Fall pathetically, relic hunter.”

  Danan’s legs buckled. Blood poured from his gas mask as the blade impaled him. He was flung to the dome’s center, discarded.

  “Canaan!” the silver girl shouted. “You—!”

  “Got time to worry about others, you winged pest?” Kaas roared.

  Explosions, clashing steel, flesh tearing, and bursting sounds filled the air.

  In his fading consciousness, Danan saw the silver girl, her body skewered by blade and wing, thrown beside him. And Canaan’s face, filled with sorrow, gazing at them.

  “Goodbye, my other half. Nameless relic hunter,” Canaan said. “The more you struggle, the more this world drowns in despair and marches toward its end. Surely, death is the only true salvation.”

  Beast

  Cracks spiderwebbed across the dome’s floor, collapsing. As Danan and the silver girl plummeted into the abyss with the rubble, Canaan spoke one final sentence, a single tear falling: “This world… it’s utterly devoid of hope.”