The ruined streets narrowed as the trio pressed deeper into the city. Once-grand avenues had caved into jagged walkways hemmed by crumbling walls, and the silence between their boots echoed unnervingly.
Chris whistled low, trying to mask the tension. "Man, this place is like a graveyard. Even the air feels dead."
Yuzu walked faster, as though moving would keep his nerves from breaking. His eyes darted at every shadow. "Don't say that, you'll jinx us."
Viktor said nothing. His attention wasn't on their chatter but on the rhythm of the streets—the way the rubble had fallen, the strange patterns in the dust. His hand lingered on his dagger as if waiting for something he already knew was coming.
And then, from around the corner, they heard it.
A cry.
High-pitched, sharp, unmistakably human. A child's voice.
"Help! Please, someone!"
Chris's head shot up. His expression instantly shifted, the cocky grin falling away into something tight, almost desperate. "Kid? There's a kid out here?!" He surged forward without hesitation, bounding toward the cry.
"Chris, wait—!" Yuzu shouted, but his voice only chased after him in vain.
The alley opened into a hollow of broken buildings, and there the figure stood—a small boy, face pale and clothes torn. His wide eyes shimmered with tears as he reached out for help.
Chris's heart lurched, his pace quickening. "It's okay! We'll get you out of here—"
The child's face flickered.
His mouth stretched, impossibly wide, tearing ear to ear until it split into a grotesque maw of glistening fangs. The body dissolved into shadow, reforming into a monstrous shape—an angler-beast of the Honkai, its hunched back glowing faintly with bioluminescence, the false child dangling like a lure from a fleshy appendage.
The maw snapped open.
Chris didn't stop in time.
"CHRIS!" Yuzu screamed.
The beast lunged, its jaws engulfing Chris's entire arm up to the shoulder. He roared, his afro whipping back as his knees buckled. The beast clamped down, and the world seemed to freeze.
But only for a second.
Viktor moved.
Steel flashed once. The air cracked with the whistle of his blade as he pivoted behind Chris, dagger carving a clean arc. In a blur of motion, he severed Chris's arm at the joint, cutting it free just before the beast could crush the bone and tear deeper into his body.
Chris staggered, pain and shock flashing across his features. "WHAT THE—"
Before the shout could even finish, Viktor struck again. A second dagger plunged deep into the glowing angler-node on the beast's spine. With a cold precision, he twisted, yanked the blade free, and the monster collapsed in a shuddering heap of black ichor.
Silence rushed in.
Yuzu stumbled to Chris's side, wide-eyed at the gory stump where his arm should've been. "Oh gods, oh gods—your arm, your arm!"
Chris grimaced, clutching his shoulder. "Relax, kid. Watch."
Before Yuzu's horrified gaze, the flesh began to knit itself back together. Muscle fibers twisted like ropes weaving anew, veins sealing and reforming, fresh skin layering over until the arm—bloodied but whole—was back as if it had never been lost.
He flexed his fingers experimentally, letting out a shaky laugh. "Hah! Guess it takes more than a big fish to keep me down."
Yuzu's mouth opened, but no words came out. He just stared, sick and relieved all at once.
Viktor, meanwhile, was silent. His eyes lingered not on Chris's arm but on the corpse of the beast, and then slowly back to Chris. His voice cut through the quiet, low and sharp.
"You're inefficient."
Chris blinked. "...Excuse me?"
"You let its lure control you," Viktor continued, wiping his blade clean on the beast's hide. "Your sentiment nearly cost you your life. And ours."
Chris scowled, pride flaring in his eyes even as he rubbed at his regrown arm. "Hey, I was trying to save a kid. Excuse me for having a heart."
"Have one," Viktor replied flatly, "but don't let it blind you." His gaze was cold, heavy, like a blade's edge pressed against the skin. "In war, hesitation kills. Wasted effort kills. Inefficiency kills."
For the first time, Chris had no quip. Yuzu shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking between the two as tension filled the alley.
Viktor's gaze lingered on Chris longer than he intended. His words had cut sharper than his blade, and yet—something stirred in his chest, a pressure, like an echo pressing against his skull.
His hand twitched. He staggered a step back and instinctively clutched the side of his head, fingers digging into his temple as if trying to hold it all together.
The ruined alley blurred. The carcass of the angler-beast faded, replaced by flickering visions—streets bathed in fire, comrades standing where rubble now lay, voices shouting words that weren't Chris's or Yuzu's, but others. A laugh. A scream. And himself—another version of him, moving with the same precision, the same deadly calm, but with a look of resolve etched deeper into his face.
That version stared back at him through the haze of memory, lips moving with words Viktor could almost hear.
But… you're right. A heart is what we need. So… keep that, and trust in us to keep your back safe.
The echo's words resonated within him, like a command he had once given, long ago. His chest tightened, his hand fell from his head, and clarity cut through the haze.
This time, Viktor's own voice carried the words aloud, each syllable steadier than the last. "But… you're right. A heart is what we need. So… keep that, and trust in us to keep your back safe."
Chris's eyes widened, surprise breaking through his cocky facade. Yuzu froze mid-step, half afraid of what Viktor would say next.
But Viktor wasn't finished. Unlike the phantom in his mind, his lips kept moving—words spilling out with an ease that startled even him. His tone shifted, lightening, sharper, almost teasing. "Ain't that right, you oaf?"
For the first time since entering the simulation, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Chris blinked—then barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oaf? That's rich, coming from you!"
Yuzu blinked between the two, still pale, but something about the exchange—about the steadiness in Viktor's voice—grounded him. The tremor in his hands lessened.
But the moment couldn't linger.
Viktor's smirk flattened into sharp instinct as his daggers shot upward in a single fluid motion. A blur in the corner of his vision became solid—a Honkai zombie dropping from the crumbling rooftop above, claws outstretched.
The daggers pierced clean through its skull before its feet even brushed the ground. It collapsed in a boneless heap, black ichor seeping into the cracked concrete.
Viktor exhaled slowly, blades dripping, as though nothing unusual had happened. His voice carried a calm certainty, a quiet reassurance that wrapped itself around both Chris and Yuzu despite the blood on the stones.
"Stay sharp. They'll keep coming. But so will we."