The Storm

=====

[The thirty-first day of ?????, ?? years after 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗮𝗹𝗹]

The expedition was a failure once again.

How many times I went on an expedition with others, I no longer recall. However, what I do know is that the amount of times I went alone outweighs the amount of times I went on expeditions with explorers tenfold-no, perhaps even a hundredfold.

All in all, it was the same.

Although the explorers seemed happy with the loot they have obtained throughout the entire expedition, I could not help but feel at a loss.

Why can I not find that which I see? I have continued to do so for ?? years, and even then there was not even a trace.

Normally, I only write things I find interesting in the diary, and expeditions with results I do not desire are never written, but today I came across something interesting.

In Bunker 4, a little after I sold the loot I had no need of, I came across a child.

For those who may come across this diary, I shall explain why it is a rare sight to see a child, let alone one that looks to be a young girl around nine or ten years old. Children ages fourteen and younger are rarely seen in the Bunkers, for they all, if not most, reside in Bunker 2.

For those who aren't...I hope they're lucky to have watchful, strong guardians to guide and protect them from the worst.

Anyways, Bunker 2 is where children are taught; a sacred sanctuary for future generations to learn.

To remember what we once had.

To endure the hardships of life.

To survive in the perilous world we live upon.

Last of all...to learn and grow as humans should.

I digress: if there are any children who are somehow outside Bunker 2, it is bound by the rules set in place by the Seven Lords-especially the Second-to report such a thing to the authorities, lest there will be severe consequences.

And so, like a responsible adult, I walked up to the child.

The moment I did, I felt as though I was walking through a bog. Each step I take, was more resistant...nay, that was not totally accurate. It was not when I began walking towards the girl that strange, abnormal events occurred.

Instead, it was the moment my eyes laid upon the child was when I felt the peculiar feeling wash over me, giving me goosebumps and a tingling feeling underneath my skin.

It only furthered my curiosity as soon enough, the girl only looked at my attire inquisitively, as though I'm not a frightening demon from bedtime stories who haunts badly-behaved children.

I know from personal experience that my tall figure, wearing an attire cloaked in all black that hid all skin from head to toe and black crow mask that covered my face, would frighten even the most reckless of children.

After a very...interesting experience, a close friend of mine told me to change my attire when I come visit Bunker 2.

With that knowledge in mind, this alone had only made me just a slight bit curious.

This curiosity increased as before I would immediately take the young girl to the only train that is connected to all the Bunkers, she suddenly opened her mouth and spoke to me in a childlike, singing tone.

"It is said that the night was the wings; the feathers of a very large bird."

"Its wings stretch across the sky, the fourth after the third."

"The moon is its eye, looking down upon the world. The stars are the reflections of goodbye; the burning hearts swirled."

"Upon the blood moon, thou would find what you seek. When the threads are weaved into the loom, thou would find what is bleak."

Then, just as I blinked, the girl was simply gone.

I could only stand there, pondering. Pondering on what is real, and what is false. I pondered on whether or not it was simply an illusion or a vision. An omen of what is to come, or a temptation of true evil?

Or maybe, just maybe...a story long ago?

As I thought about this and that, it was then I recalled that today was an inauspicious...or perhaps an auspicious day depending on the perspective.

I had gone underground before the sun had set, so I had not noticed, but tonight...there would be a blood moon.

-𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺

=====

...

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

Corvus clapped shut the diary in his hands.

Tucking it back into a pocket of coat, which was underneath his cloak, he breathed in the cool air that smelled as though more rain would come about. The small drizzle of rain that had begun to fall moments earlier was evidence.

If he had breathed like this decades earlier, even while wearing a mask that can filter out smoke and such, he would've fallen over, twitching and convulsing in pain. The poisonous air that can easily harm humans has long, long ceased to exist, but its remains are still seen to this day.

Speaking of days...

"We've been walking all along the outskirts of the ruins for nearly a week, searching every nook and cranny. Like I said earlier, our target is in the inner-no, it's most likely at the very center of the ruined city itself."

"At this point, it's basically guaranteed to be in the most dangerous part of the city. I mean, why wouldn't it be? These types of things are never easy at all..."

It was early morning, and the cold morning winds blew along the fresh smell of a musky, earthly scent that Corvus had happily partook in.

When the invisible sun hidden by gray clouds had barely graced the horizon, the five explorers had all gathered together in a well-lit dusty living room, standing around a surprisingly high-quality table.

Still standing and in one piece, the table was made from mahogany wood that was well crafted by a masterful craftsman...even the passage of time had barely left any traces on it. Besides the dust that was patted away with a modicum of effort, it would make one fine furniture for upper-class folks.

If it wasn't so large, being four meters in length and three meters in width, then the group would've carried it with them.

Perhaps they could've removed each piece one by one, to make it manageable to be brought along, but it would be an utter waste of time.

Anyways, here they were discussing what to do.

While Corvus watched Gregor, Lez, and Flan make good points and argue, Judas chipping in here and there, he looked at the map with thought.

During the week they had arrived upon the surface, they have met trouble after trouble. They ran into areas with no coverage and places to hide, environments that may have loose, large pieces of cement that can fall on them at any time or give way underneath them should they be on a higher elevation, and of course...mutants.

The mutants the group was rightfully wary of. The ones in groups...well, they obviously left well alone.

But the one's all alone...now that was a treasure that the group had no trouble deciding to jump it.

It was mostly a success with varying results that incurred no real worries such as fatal injuries and infections.

Funny enough, there was a time when there was some modicum of panic. It wasn't the mutants that gave them worry, but a particular young man tripping over a small crevice in the middle of the road.

Falling over wasn't a problem. It was the amount of noise that the young man made while falling over echoed loudly across an entire block or so.

That whole day, the group simply camped out in one of the buildings far, far away from where the noise was made.

As they say, mutants have nigh to near godly sensitive senses and abilities. Strength, agility, stamina, sight, smell, touch, bloodthirstiness, hearing...maybe taste...they had it all.

That day, Corvus was the one who had to carry the embarrassed, injured young man to safety.

They-well, it was just the four and not Corvus at this point-were so worried about being injured by mutants, they managed to forget that there could be a serious accident outside of simply being harmed by mutants.

Well, there was also that time where Flan got scratched by one, but it was easy enough to sterilize and bandage with the overwhelming amount of supplies they had within three minutes.

As Corvus pondered, he felt a presence walking up next to him.

"Are you alright, Mr. Corvus?" Lez asked rather seriously.

Now that the masked man's eyes laid upon him a moment longer, he had come to realize that the sharp-looking man had a certain air to him.

"As of now, I am fine," Corvus slowly began. "However...who can say later?"

"Indeed," the man replied, pulling a loose glove further into his hand. "We'll be going right into the 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮."

"Indeed. One could certainly say, this would be the...'' the masked man said and trailed off. From the dark depths of the black beaked mask's glass black lens, what could be seen was a small, unnoticeable glint. "𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮."

The corner of Lez's right eye twitches. Whether he got it or not, Corvus does not know, but he seemed to notice something.

"You are quite a cultured gentleman, Mr. Corvus."

"Well, at my age, one could hear a few things here and there. Speaking of which, I'm also intrigued about how you came to learn such an idiom?"

"Hm? Oh, I've heard it quite frequently from others."

Corvus simply nodded in understanding, and Lez coughed into his hand.

"I digress. The reason I came up to converse with you is because we finally came to a consensus."

"Already?"

"Yes," Lez curtly said with a nod. "We'll find that we seek, this "special mutant," in the innermost stratum of the ruined city. Gregor estimated it to be near the more urban locations, where the tallest skyscrapers are still standing alone and abandoned. I am in full agreement with him."

Corvus hummed and left it at that.

Just as Lez opened his mouth to continue speaking, his eyes trailed off to the side before coming back to him.

With a slight rotation of his neck, Corvus secretly glanced to the side. Around the table, he saw Gregor seemingly lecturing Judas, with Flan nodding seriously besides them.

"Well, it seems they have come to a conclusion, and now since Gregor is lecturing the poor boy, we better be going. I enjoyed talking with a cultured man like you, Mr. Corvus. It seems we would have a lot to talk about on this trip."

Saying that, Lez gave a last nod to the masked man, who nodded back, before returning back to the group.

'Indeed we do,' Corvus thought before looking out a window. 'We have a lot to talk about soon.'

From the light-gray clouds overhead comes rain. Countless drops of water fell and stained the window, with the heaviest of them slowly trailing downwards.

After a pause did the masked man turn away and head off towards the group.

Then, as sudden and as quietly as it came, Corvus felt the bottom of his arms tingle, all the way down to the soles of his feet. At the same time, the hair on the back of his neck raised, and he couldn't help but make a small, shuddering breath.

While normal people have commonly felt such things from time to time, one such as him...well, let's say he hadn't felt such a thing in a long, long time.

With that feeling in mind, Corvus knew today will be much different.

...

"Well," Lez said. It was a simple statement; straightforward and direct.

As he said that, the man also wore quite the peculiar expression as tilted his chin up, his eyes staring at what was above him. Walking out of the somewhat well-built and well-decorated house they were in, the other four had walked up to his side and joined the sharp-looking man in looking up at the dreary sky far above them. "It has quite literally become a storm."

No sooner than an hour came to pass did the once sprinkling rain become a horrid torrent of heavy downpour.

Winds howled, and the leaves and whatever is loose rustled loudly. Plastic bags, empty chip bags, and anything light flew around.

Even the cloaks the rest of the group wore flapped around. It was all they could do to keep their hoods down over their heads to keep their heads somewhat dry.

"This is bad, right?" Judas murmured.

"My fellow explorers..." Gregor slowly started with a face very similar to that of Lez's. "We all knew this expedition won't be easy. This is all but another obstacle in our unknown path."

"Well said, Mr. Gregor," Lez said rather seriously. "We must always be prepared for the unexpected, otherwise we would be caught off guard. It is precisely how you live in this cruel world."

"Yeah," Flan nodded with a smirk. "Although this expedition's difficulty may have been raised tenfold, but fret not. I'm sure we'll find what we seek sooner or later. Let us pray to whatever deity or god is out there, watching over us."

Gregor and Flan fell silent and bowed their heads, with Judas and Lez following shortly after.

Corvus stayed silent, feeling bits of water fall pitter-pattering onto his hood, cloak, and shoes. He glanced at the skies, the world around him, and the four besides him equally.

After a moment of silence, Gregor raised his head up. With a deep breath he turned to look at them all.

"The good news is, at least the rain will somewhat mask our scent and the noises we make," he said while grinning. "The bad news is, the rain will make it more difficult for us to see danger."

Seeing the rest of the team nod rather grimly, the older man turned his smile into one of pain as he lifted his hands, bringing up the hood and over his head.

"Let us go, my friends. We head eastward...towards the inner city."

Shifting the backpack straps on his shoulders, he took a deep breath and jogged into the rain, with the rest following behind ever so swiftly.

...

Then, it happened.

Well, it always "happens" on every expedition-at least on the ones where Corvus attended. He knew such peace would not linger any longer, for today was a different day compared to the rest-especially when he felt such an odd sensation filled with goosebumps.

No sooner than three hours past afternoon did the first of many errors come to pass.

They were all on guard; ever cautious, nearly jumping at the slightest sound. Yet even when they tirelessly concentrated on their ears and eyes, the rain dulled their senses, blocking out the sounds of the soft hisses, footsteps, and growls of mutants.

As they slowly, cautiously, yet assuredly, from an alleyway they began to walk past, from its shadows, a mutant suddenly jumped out.

In an instant, many things happened at once.

The older man became grim, his head and body slowly turning around. Before he could, he suddenly jerked back around. Ahead of the small, albeit once peaceful road they walked upon, three mutants running through the heavy rain towards the group of five in a feral manner, their red eyes gleaming a savage glow.

A sharp looking man squinted his eyes before taking up position to the right of the old man.

The hooded man looked at the man once before moving to confront the approaching danger, walking up to the left side of the old man.

A young man reached out towards the one in the most danger, his youthful face slowly beginning distorting into a panicked expression.

Last but not least, the poor sod, the closest to the mutant, did turn around to confront the mindless beast, but unfortunately, he was too late as the mutant's teeth bit into his neck.

He let out a yelp as he fell down along with the mutant atop him.

In the next moment, shouts of agony and pleading rang out. A second later, Judas tackled it off him.

As soon as he did, the three explorers met head on against the three mutants with unsheathed short swords in hand.

Corvus ducked as one of them soared over him.

Just before he turned around, he fell backwards as a wayward claw from another mutant nearly sliced open his stomach.

Rolling across the ground, he managed to get up on his feet before the first mutant's teeth was a few inches away from his neck.

With naught but a sound or word, he took his left hand, balled it up into a fist, and struck the red humanoid across the face.

Corvus felt his knuckles give out pulses of pain, stumbling backwards just like the mutant did. As he did so, he couldn't help but clench and unclench his open hand into fists, and vice versa.

If he had been barehanded when he punched it, without wearing custom made leather gloves, perhaps the bones in his hands and arms would resoundly crack.

Nevertheless, this opportunity did give him a chance to take a short breather.

Under the muted noises of the fight in the background amidst the loud pitter-pattering of rain, Corvus took the time to take a real good look at what he was facing.

It was a much larger and stronger variant; a specimen different from that of the "average" mutant. This variant stood a full head taller and a few centimeters wider than the average mutant, wearing barely any notion of clothing at all. It was really no trouble to guess why it was a variant, judging by its bulging, large, blood-red muscles, more ferocious pure red eyes, and longer talon-like nails.

'Well,' Corvus thought, beginning to ponder at the worst time. 'I suppose these types of variants do start appearing as so-'

He immediately sidestepped to the left as the mutant lunged past him. A cold breeze ruffled his cloak as he whipped his right hand out. With the weapon in hand, he gave a quick slash alongside its waist.

The short sword barely made a small cut-at least a centimeter deep. Even then, he felt resistance from dealing such a small cut. It looked as though the seemingly skinless, monstrously thick muscle wasn't just for show.

In the next second, with practiced movement, Corvus quickly pivoted his foot and ran into the nearby building, taking a step into the darkness. The mutant only roared amidst the sounds of metal clanging, grunts, curses, and the loud pitter-pattering of rain, quickly following right after him without a moment's hesitation

...

Grappling with a mutant was not a part of Judas' wishlist.

"Mr. Flan, are you alright!" he shouted even as his eyes never leaving the stalking mutant. The only response he got was a groan a little ways behind him.

The young man will take that as a definite "no."

Judas inwardly cursed again as he clashed once more against the mutant he confronted. Of course, he didn't try to directly clash head on, but instead directed the force behind each blow to the side.

Each time he did so, he felt his arms become increasingly numb and heavy as lead. His chest began to burn out; his lungs running on fumes. More and more rain entered his eyes, making him nearly suffer grave and fatal consequences as the mutant kept pressing on like a feral animal.

Even then, Judas continued to push on, even as that small voice in the back of his head appeared to tell him to give up. To run away and abandon the others.

Then, a second shortly after the small voice appeared, he disintegrated it into dust, casting it away to the depths of his mind.

So, he pressed on.

A thirty seconds later, after dodging, weaving, and rolling across the wet pavement underneath desperately-with many near-death situations-he managed to push the mutant onto its back.

As it slammed against the ground, Judas couldn't help but halt . With his efforts, he had a brief moment of respite-at least three seconds-to observe the situation around him.

He took a second to look at Lez and Gregor, who looked to be fine as they were actively wearing down a mutant each as their opponent. The next second, he saw that Flan, lying on the ground, had crawled a little bit away-at least a few feet or so-off to the side.

Last but not least, he tried to look around for another figure. During the first minute of the brawl, Mr. Corvus had disappeared along with that larger variant of a mutant.

Judas can only pray he shall be alright, but from the stories Mr. Gregor told him, he should be more than fine.

What he should be hoping for is for the hooded man to come back soon and assist them all.

Shifting the grip of the short sword in his hand, Judas took a deep breath. What a horrible situation for them all to be in, especially with this absurd downpour of rain.

Just a few times he nearly died, either by slipping on the slippery pavement or being blinded by the drops of water that had entered his eyes.

His eyes twitched as one quite literally splashed onto his eye. It was really annoying, but Judas can only swallow down his annoyance and urge to wipe the blurriness in his eyes away as the mutant suddenly charged at him.

Judas suddenly shoulder charged it, pushing it off balance for a second. As it backpedaled once, he took a step forward, and with his short sword, slashed at where its shoulder and left arm were connected.

The sharp end of the weapon connected with it. Alas, it suddenly stopped when it only sank a few inches.

The young man tried to yank it out, but to no avail.

He can only smile bitterly as the mutant roared angrily, taking a few swipes at the young man. By then, he had already let go of the handle of the weapon and stepped back once. He could only continue taking steps back, backpedaling, slightly leaning left or right a few times as the mutant walked up one step at a time, swinging at him in with fast, sweeping claws every second or so.

Mutants were akin to berserking animals; their minds only filled with red upon red upon red, overlayed with more red. As long as he is careful, managing his stamina and such, it should end soon-

'Ah,' Judas thought, his feet slipping on the pavement. In his eyes, time slowed to a crawl as his world tumbled around him. Then, just as suddenly as it slowed, it came back to him at full throttle as soon as he felt his back touch the hard, wet pavement underneath him with a mix of a thud and a splash.

Pain shot through his back, and although he wanted to rub where the pain pulsed strongly, he knew he had to move. Yet, just as he could open his eyes, he saw the mutant standing above him, its bloodthirsty, crimson glowing red eyes looking down on him.

The young man froze.

It was as though his brain and body were disconnected. He knew he had to move. He 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 this logically and mentally, yet…why is his body not moving-?!

The young man could only take a shuddering breath before the mutant pulled back its arm. In an instant, like a coil springing after absorbing so much pressure, its arm shot forward like a bullet-

As quickly as a bullet, a dark shadow appeared out of nowhere and knocked the mutant off to the side.

Judas was stunned.

He looked up at the shadowed figure with rain still blurring his vision. Amidst the torrent of rain, although it was a little hard to observe the figure in a short moment of time, he saw an outline of a beak.

As though the sun had risen from the sky after a cold night, a comfortable wave of relief washed over him, and his tensed up muscles began to relax.

"Mr. Corvus?! You-"

Before he could say anything else, the hooded man rushed over to the fallen mutant. It growled as it started getting up, but it was pushed back down with a hand.

With the other, Corvus raised his hand up, short sword in hand, and stabbed it deep into the mutant's throat.

It gargled as its nails clawed at him. Alas, its' actions began to slowly weaken until its arms just dropped onto the ground, and the feral glowing blood-red eyes faded away.

After a while, the hooded man yanked out the sword and slowly got onto his feet under Judas' watchful, flabbergasted gaze.

He thought Mr. Corvus would be at least injured, but there was nary a wound on him at first glance.

"Mr. Corvus, wh-where's the mutant you-"

"Get up," the masked man said with a somewhat muffled voice through the beaked mask. Judas blinked, and he suddenly saw the shadowy figure standing above him. "Stand on your feet."

For some reason, Judas scurried onto his feet as if his life was on the line.

Which it was, ironically enough.

"It's not time for you to die. At least not yet."

The roaring sounds of mutants, the pitter-pattering of rain, and the grunts of exhaustion filled Judas' ears.

With a nod, he ran over to Flan, who looked to be unconscious. The poor man must've fainted from the pain. The question of whether it was good or bad he fainted amidst a skirmish was up in the air.

As Judas attempted to administer first-aid with the supplies from the backpacks, he saw Corvus running towards the fight.

...

Rain still fell, although slightly less heavy compared to the one a few hours earlier.

In a more taller building, a smaller skyscraper of sorts, a couple of floors up, laid an office. Trash filled the once clean room, with many spinning chairs, small tables, and a variety of other things fallen over, as though the people who once used them were in a hurry to leave.

In such a seemingly desolate, lifeless dark room, grunts of pain echoed in it with dim, gray light filtering from the windows.

"What rotten luck," said a young man, staring at the source of the groans whilst sitting on one of the spinning chairs in the once-lively office. Although his attempts to school his features were rather successful, the worry in his voice spoke more than a thousand words.

"These goddam mutants...they always have to appear at the worst time," Gregor murmured, kneeling over an unconscious, bandaged man. "They even forced us to run even further into the depths of the city. Heh, I'd wager we're already near the center..."

Standing up, he stretched his arms upwards with a yawn.

"Perhaps I was too wishful in thinking this expedition would go well after all..."

Who he was talking to, no one knows, but the older man suddenly looked down on someone who was kneeling by the wounded man.

"Anyways, how does it look Lez? You think Flan-"

"The mutant's poison got deep into Flan," Lez said seriously by his side. "Luckily, we ended the fight before any other mutants joined and administered the right disinfectant in a timely manner, bandaging his wounds up before it became truly fatal. Good work Judas."

He gave a nod to the young man, who shrugged with a half-hearted smile.

"So he'll live, but he wont be on his feet anytime soon," Gregor summarized in a tired manner. The sharp-looking man gave him a nod of agreement.

"Just what we needed...well, I guess being chased to the center does speed up our plan, even though I'd rather we carefully make our way towards our objective without incurring injuries and losses."

While the two murmured here and there after a few minutes, giving the spinning chair another good few spins, Judas stood up and walked up to the cubicles near him. Inside each one had a monitor, a mouse, a few pieces of paper, and a variety of other things.

"These computers are old..." the young man muttered. While walking past them, kicking rolled up balls of paper and other litter that lay across the carpet, he caressed the top of one and brought his fingers close to his eye.

"So much dust too...well, I guess it's expected, since no one has been here for nearly a century or so."

Suddenly he jerked up and looked at an older man.

"Hey, Mr. Gregor? You think we can-"

"Nah," Gregor said, shaking his head. He walked over and leaned near the large windows, peering through the curtains every so often. "These computers are old. 𝘖𝘭𝘥 old, if you know what I'm saying. Way older than me. We won't get nothin' worth of value out of 'em."

Then, he shrugged.

"That's a lie. We can get something of value from them, but only very few would buy them. Even then, it would be pretty cheap, considering they're way past their lifespan."

With that said, the older man abruptly chuckled.

"Time really is a menace. Right, Mr. Corvus?"

Gregor and Judas looked at the hooded man. Nearly camouflaged in the darkness, he seemed to be rooting through a stack of paper placed on a small, wooden round table.

"Paper is actually worth something, strangely enough," the masked man said, eyeing a piece of paper before setting it aside. "Even then, even if it is worth something, the benefits do not outweigh the risk."

"Mr. Corvus is right," Gregor agreed. "We don't have enough room in our backpacks to reliably carry it with us towards our destination. It's the same with that well-crafted table from earlier. Explorers may find items worth selling, but they must set aside such things for the greater prize."

The entire room fell into silence once again, save for the pitter-pattering of rain tapping against the window and the groans, whimpers, and grunts from an unconscious Flan.

"The special variant..." Judas suddenly muttered. "You all really think it's here?"

"We have to believe it's here," Lez immediately said. "Otherwise, this whole thing wouldn't be worth it. Very few free explorers dare enter the surface, let alone enter the innermost part of the city."

"Speaking of entering the surface..." Judas suddenly began. "Surely the Bunkers must have some sort of goal, right? Why don't the Bunkers ever try to purposely take back the surface for humanity?"

As one, everyone turned to look at the young man.

"Hey," he complained. "Don't you guys don't remember? I lived under a rock!"

"Don't we all," Gregor said mirthfully with an eyebrow raised. "As for your earlier question...well, the Bunkers don't focus on the surface. To be exact, they're focused on something else."

"What is that?"

"Safeguarding the future of humanity," the older man stated.

Judas furrowed his eyebrows.

"Even then, isn't the uncertain future worth the risk?" he slowly and tentatively asked. "I'm sure there are those who wish to bring back the prosperity of humanity a century ago-"

Gregor abruptly snorted. Judas blinked in an uncomprehending manner.

"Wha-what's so funny?"

"You're just like me when I was a young man," Gregor said with a smirk. Looking at the people around him, who all looked back at him, he sighed defeatedly. "In fact, many young people are like that. The hot-bloodiness of youth...ah, those were the days."

"Yes yes, old man, let's get you to bed..."

The "old man" gave a deadpanned look at a certain young man.

"At least you're not too distraught anymore to not joke around. Are you done blaming yourself? If so, good. Anyways, those "many people" I mentioned do speak out, of course…"

"Then they were all…'silenced?'" a certain young man spoke seriously, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs and his hands cupped under his nose.

Gregor squinted at this "certain young man."

"...what kind of books are you reading? Anyways, many people do agree with them, past, present, and future. Even when I'm this old, I still, too, agree with those folks. Alas, other than a rare few exceptions, the Bunkers never do anything too drastic. They won't do anything unless the Seven Lords unanimously agree."

"The Seven Lords are the ones who created the Bunkers, right?" Judas asked curiously.

"That's what many people say and were taught."

"Don't you ever think they're evil masterminds? Monsters in human skin, who eat children and babies-"

"Where in the actual hell are these conspiracy theories coming from?!"

"...but aren't you just a little bit curious-?"

"They're no dictators, and they're definitely no power hungry monsters," Gregor said firmly. "Their subordinates might be a different story, but them? Not in a million years. Hell, they're on the opposite spectrum of what a dictator is."

"But it has been over a century, right?" Lez abruptly asked. Everyone, excluding the unconscious person, casted their gazes on him. "If they aren't dead, then wouldn't they be monsters?"

"I don't know," Gregor simply stated with such finality, as though the conversation ends there.

Lez blinked but showed nothing otherwise. On the other hand, Judas was flabbergasted, his mouth moving like a fish out of water. After a while, he seemed to have finished his thought process as he shook his head.

"What do you mean "you don't know?" Isn't there a voice in your heart that maybe, just maybe, they-"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Maybe they might be monsters, creatures of some unimaginable horror who keeps humanity hidden away to feed on them. Maybe they might be people who killed the previous Seven Lords to obtain power, secretly plotting our deaths. Hell, maybe they might be pure evil who pretend to be good like you said."

After staring at Judas intently, who looked away, he looked at everyone else.

"What I know is..." Gregor began slowly. "If the Seven Lords ever wanted to kill, enslave, or torture us for the kicks, then they would've done so long ago. What I know is...everything has been quite peaceful despite what has happened on the surface ever since the day I was born. What I know is...the Seven Lords are our saviors, and right now I have food, water, shelter, and friends."

"That's..." Judas hesitated, and his eyes fell to his own hands.

"As for excitement...well..." Gregor trailed off, gesturing at himself as though it was obvious. "Aren't I here now? With all that, at my age, I don't have many things I want to accomplish then what I'm currently doing. I'm perfectly fine with what I have as of now."

"..."

"Of course that might change in the future. Who can say? The future is unpredictable, right Mr. Corvus?"

All heads, even Flan, turned to look at Corvus, who gave a nod.

"Mr. Flan, you're awake!" Judas shouted.

"Keep it down, will ya? It feels as though my ears are ringing and pulsing painfully..."

"O-oh...sorry."

As the young man rubbed the back of his neck, Lez poked at the wounded man.

"Are you alright?"

The bandaged man snorted.

"Other than feeling as though millions of red ants are crawling and biting everywhere on my body, then yeah, I'm 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 fine."

"...so you're not okay?" Lez asked once again.

"Of course I'm not okay!" Flan yelled. "Do you not know sarcasm?! Are you daft 𝘢𝘯𝘥 blind?!"

Even though the room was dark, it felt as though a filter fell over the eyes of those who can see. The room lightened up a tad bit as everyone began to laugh in relief. Some people prodded the other in a joking manner, while the other bit back scathingly with a bit of humor.

It couldn't be helped that everyone fell into a delightful, relieved mood.

Well not everyone.

Corvus was one of them, who as usual was silent.

Instead, he looked at the other, who was smiling and laughing so real that if one didn't pay close attention from the start, it would not look and sound so utterly fake.