The sight that met them was hell itself.
Bodies—mangled, torn, and dismembered—were scattered across the blood-soaked floor. Goblin corpses lay in broken heaps, their green flesh ripped apart, bones jutting through gashes where blades had carved too deep. Some were missing limbs entirely, others were crushed beyond recognition. The metallic tang of blood hung thick in the air, blending with the sickly-sweet stench of decay and bile. It was suffocating—like breathing through rust and rot.
Lynis gagged, his hand flying to his mouth. "Oh god…" His voice cracked as he swallowed hard, his stomach twisting into knots.
Porpo's face paled, her lips trembling. She covered her mouth and nose with a sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's not a fight… that's a massacre."
Jane's heart thudded against her ribs. Her dagger trembled in her grip as her eyes swept across the carnage. The walls were streaked with claw marks and dried blood, shelves upturned and snapped in half. It looked less like a battle and more like a slaughterhouse.
Then—movement.
A shadow stirred at the far end of the aisle. A figure—tall, broad-shouldered—stood half-shrouded in darkness.
"Guys…" Lynis rasped, pointing with his kukri. "Look."
The figure stood unnaturally still, its outline human but wrong somehow—its head tilted slightly to the side, one arm hanging limp. Blood dripped rhythmically from its fingers, the sound lost amid the buzzing light overhead.
"W-what is that?" Porpo whispered, her voice trembling.
"He look human leh," Lynis muttered, squinting.
Jane's instincts screamed at her to run. Something in the air felt heavy—charged, dangerous. Still, she took a step forward, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest.
"Excuse me! Are you alright?"
The figure moved.
Slowly. Jerkily. As if invisible strings were yanking it to life.
It turned its head by degrees, the sound of vertebrae popping faintly in the silence.
Then its eyes opened.
Twin crimson embers cut through the dark, glowing from beneath a matted fringe of hair. They locked onto her—cold, sharp, unblinking. The flickering fluorescent light reflected in those eyes, painting them the color of fresh blood.
Jane froze. "Are you… alright?" she asked again, but the words were barely a whisper.
Lynis felt every hair on his arms rise. His pulse spiked so hard he thought his heart might burst. 'Wah piang eh… I got damn bad feeling about this.' His voice trembled despite his effort to steady it. He raised his shield, the metal trembling in his grip. "Jane… this one really bad idea, I swear lah, bro."
Lynis's eyes dropped to the ground. A mangled goblin corpse lay near the man's feet—head and spine ripped clean from the torso, blood spreading thick and dark across the floor. Lynis's Adam's apple jerked as he forced the bile back down.
Porpo's hand hovered beside her grimoire. The tome floated in the air before her, its pages fluttering on their own. "Gale Trigger," she murmured. A thin whisp of green light particles coiled around her index finger, forming into the shape of an arrowhead. Her finger lifted—like the barrel of a gun—aimed at the crimson-eyed figure.
The man didn't react. He stood there, unmoving. Then, without warning, his knees buckled. His body crumpled forward and hit the ground hard, the sound of flesh against tile echoing through the silent aisles.
"Shit!" Jane broke into a sprint. Her boots splashed through a pool of blood, the sticky warmth seeping into the seams and her legs. She dropped to her knees beside him, heart racing. His chest barely moved, breath shallow.
"Oi, bodo! What you doing?!" Lynis shouted, rushing after her. He grabbed her wrist, yanking her back slight before she could touch the man.
"What are YOU doing? He needs help!" she snapped, twisting free.
"You siao ah?! Look around lah!" Lynis gestured to the carnage. "You think normal human can do this kind of thing?"
The truth of it hit her like a blow. The gore, the shattered bones, the sheer scale of destruction—it was inhuman. And yet… she couldn't leave him.
"We can't just leave him here," she whispered, staring at his blood-caked face.
Porpo's voice trembled behind them, the faint green light in her hand dissipated instantly. "What? You wanna carry this crazy person all the way back? Lynis can carry, sure, but what if he gains back consciousness and attack Lynis, our only shield? This isn't a good idea, Jane, we need to go."
Lynis blinked, caught off guard. "Eh, I don't know whether to be happy or sad meh..."
Both of them ignored him.
"Wah, you all so mean sia." He plopped down and sat curled up, knees to his chest, pouting like a kid.
Jane pressed her lips together, her gaze hardening. "I'm not leaving him." Her tone was firm now—commanding. "He's young. I don't care what happened to him, it looks like he's been through hell. If it were one of us, we'd want someone to help."
Lynis hearing those words, rolled his eyes, standing up. He knew better than to argue when she got like this.
Porpo threw her hands up, groaning. "Okay fine, just, get him and let's get the hell out of here, please!"
He sighed. "Alright. But—"
He stopped. His head jerked up.
From somewhere outside, metal screamed—like a car being shoved aside. The screech echoed through the empty street, followed by a heavy thump. Then another. Rhythmic. Slow. Far but getting closer.
Porpo's eyes widened. "What the fuck was that?" she whispered. "Whatever that is, it is huge. I sure am not staying, we'll get boxed and I don't want us to be stuck hauling a body while some big cunty monster kills us,"
Lynis was already moving, his kukri sheathed in one smooth motion. "Ok lah. I go scout, see where that noise coming from. Porpo, you find rope, blanket—anything can use to carry him. Quick one, in and out, meet back here. Can?"
Porpo nodded briskly, and sprinting deeper into the aisles. "On it!"
Lynis gave Jane a crooked grin as he backed toward the rear exit. "Stay with your new boyfriend, lah. I know your type one—see one man covered in blood, heart straightaway soft sia."
Jane shot him a glare that could kill.
He chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "Two minutes tops, ok? Make sure he ready to carry, la."
"Thank you, Lynis," she said quietly, sincerity beneath her annoyance.
As his footsteps faded into the dark, the store fell silent again—save for the faint hum of the flickering lights and the distant metallic echoes outside.
Jane turned back to the man on the floor. She flipped him over gently, grimacing. He was dressed in a tattered black hoodie and sweats—the fabric torn, stained, and caked with grime and dried blood. His shoes were missing, his bare feet caked with dirt and blood.
He lay still, his chest rising barely enough to prove life remained. Up close, she could see his face under the blood and black tarlike substance, —the sharp jawline, the remnants of agony carved into his expression.
Her hand hovered over him, trembling slightly. "God… what happened to you?" she whispered.
The blood beneath him shimmered faintly in the flickering light, rippling like liquid glass.