Chapter 16: Will We Return to the City?
[Public Forum – "Survivors"]
User_47:"I don't know how much longer the network will last, but for now it works. Is anyone else still alive in Portland?"
DarkSoul89:"I survived by a miracle. The gas station exploded last night, looked like a damn Michael Bay movie. My car was turned into scrap. I've been walking since then."
HopefulMom:"Does anyone know if the red rain is toxic? My kids have a fever and I don't know if it's because of that."
DeadInside:"Stop asking stupid questions. Besides, if you have any questions, go to the Arizona base, they are accepting all the Awakened there."
Survivor_23:"I saw a guy with a crow. I swear the animal was carrying something glowing in its claws. I'm not crazy. Has anyone else seen it???"
Deleted User:[The message has been deleted by the moderator].
* * *
"Richard, come see this."
Emma's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He had been checking his pistol, carefully cleaning every groove, though his fingers kept absentmindedly stroking the dagger forged by Ethan, his true favorite.
"What is it now?" he muttered without lifting his gaze much.
Emma didn't respond right away. She was hunched over the computer. Her fingers began to type across the keyboard at a rapid pace. The screen glowed in the gloom of the shelter, and her eyes reflected lines of text that renewed every second.
When he got close enough, he could read just enough to understand why Emma's eyes were shining so brightly. The forum, which they had believed dead for several days, had come back to life.
Someone had managed to bring it back.They didn't know who, or how, but the threads were filled with new messages. Anxiety, rumors… but above all, people's hope.
Richard sank into the chair beside her.
"You shouldn't get excited, Emma… After all, we don't know who we're talking to."
His words were swallowed by the noise of the keyboard.
"Come on, you sound just like Dad."
"Youth…" Richard rubbed his temples. "Great… now I sound like a bitter old man."
The messages on the forum kept appearing, one after another:
DeadInside:"What do you mean? The City of Angels is still standing."
Starling:"Hadn't Los Angeles disappeared?"
DeadInside:"What kind of stupidity are you spouting? Los Angeles is now an impenetrable fortress. Ever since the president blew his head off in the middle of a press conference, there's been a change in power. Those who awakened powerful talents were recruited by the cleansing forces in the city center. The rest… wait to awaken in order to guarantee safety for themselves and their families."
Emma held her breath. Her eyes widened.
"Do you hear that…? If we go, we could be recruited!"
In a sudden impulse, she hugged Richard. Her enthusiasm was so naive.
"This… doesn't make sense.""I swear this shouldn't be happening…"
He lowered his gaze in confusion.
Los Angeles.The first city to fall. The epicenter of chaos. It had been devoured in a matter of days, swept away by the horde. How was it possible that now it was being spoken of as an impregnable fortress?
Richard's instinct screamed that something was wrong. Very wrong.
* * *
Starling:"And the infected? What happened to them?"
DeadInside:"From what I was told, most of them escaped to the outskirts. Governor Marcus Hayes mentioned something about a 'secret weapon' in his last speech.
Well, I have to go. Duty calls."
* * *
Emma watched him, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling in her eyes."So? What do we do? Do we go to Los Angeles? If what they're saying is true… we'd be safe there."
Richard slowly tore his gaze away from the screen. His green eyes, dulled for an instant, locked on Emma. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
If all of this was true… what did it mean for him?
Would he no longer be alone?
No—he would return to the same loneliness that had become his shroud, the personal seal he had carved in his past life.
Was it worth it? Was it worth handing them such fragile hope, when all he saw was a routine doomed to repeat itself until everyone ended up buried beneath the earth?
Without a word, Richard stood up and left the room. Emma followed him with her gaze, confused.
"Richard, where are you going?"
Her voice tried to stop him, but his steps carried on, firm and soundless down the corridor. Emma froze, chilled. The face she had glimpsed told her she should let him go.
"Richard…" she whispered, barely audible.
He wasn't the same. He wasn't the Richard she had once known, the one who had shared her childhood. That boy who had made jokes and smiled shamelessly even in the darkest times no longer seemed to exist. His face was taut and fractured, as if every expression was a mask far too heavy to wear.
Then she felt something strange. A dark liquid was trickling from her nose.
"Eh? What's happening to me?"
She raised a hand to her face. Her vision blurred, and thick blood dripped onto her fingers.
Her murmur dissolved into the silence, like a prayer with no echo:"Richard… please run…"
No one heard her.
Meanwhile, Richard slammed his fist into the wall. His knuckles burned, veins bulging beneath his skin like twisted roots.
"I'm an idiot…" he growled. "This isn't the world I knew anymore."
He wasn't angry at fate, nor at Ethan, nor Emma. He was furious at himself. That anger was corrosive, acid tearing through his chest.
In his memories, it hadn't been like this. He didn't remember feeling this knot in his soul. It was almost as if the very memories that haunted him were controlling each of his actions.
Richard exhaled sharply, trying to smother the void.
He quickened his pace toward the refuge's entrance. He needed air. He needed to think—without Emma's eyes piercing him, without the weight of family crushing his back.
That's when he heard a caw.
Luna was waiting. The crow's black feathers devoured the dim light, as if feeding on the night itself. In its claws, it held a strange stone glowing faintly. With a single glance, Richard knew it was a Class 2 core.
It must have gone hunting in the forest.
Richard arched a brow. Was it meant for Emma? Maybe. Somehow, that thought eased him. At least someone else was watching over her.
The bird descended and perched on his shoulder. Richard stood still, startled.
Perhaps there was some truth in that absurd theory that animals could sense human emotions.
"Thank you, little one…" he murmured, stroking the feathers for the first time.
In that moment, under the red rain growing heavier, it was the closest thing to peace he had felt in weeks. The blood-tinged droplets drenched him from head to toe—and instead of fear, they gave him calm.
Luna pecked his ear, demanding his attention.
She spread her wings, pointing toward the forest.
Richard hesitated. His instincts screamed at him not to go. That path promised nothing good. But the crow called again, its cry cutting through the storm.
"…Fine. Lead the way."
Defying his own judgment, Richard vaulted over the defenses he had set up days earlier. Every trap, every wire, every obstacle—he slipped past them with the grace of a seasoned hunter.
Luna led him to the forest's edge.
Richard stopped. The dark foliage loomed like a living wall, breathing under the rain.
"No. I'm not going in there."
He crossed his arms, shaking his head. "A crazy bird isn't going to drag me blindly into a place I haven't even scouted."
"Found you!"
The voice caught him off guard. From the underbrush stumbled a young man, panting, drenched, his brown jacket offering little protection. Richard's body tensed instantly, ready for a fight.
Luckily for the boy, he wasn't a bear. Otherwise, he would already be flying through the air from a single blow.
But the youth didn't run at Richard. He ran toward the crow.
"Hey, hey, relax… what are you doing, trying to eat my pet?"
Richard stepped forward immediately, his presence casting a long shadow over the boy. The contrast was brutal: the overwhelming aura of someone who had lived two lifetimes, against the clumsy desperation of a novice barely surviving the apocalypse's opening act.
The boy's shoulders slumped, intimidated at once.
"S-Sorry…" he stammered, like a child caught misbehaving.
He pointed at the stone clutched in Luna's talons.
"It's just… I'm so hungry that even that thing looks edible."
His stomach growled so loudly it punctuated his words like a shameful testimony.
"This thing?"
Richard plucked the core between two fingers. The stone pulsed faintly, as though a trapped heart beat within it.
The boy's eyes locked on it at once. They were hollow, desperate—like those you'd see in the starving alleys of ruined cities. Like a stray dog seeing its first scrap of bread in days.
Richard allowed a small smile to slip. That look gave him an idea.
"I can give you something much better than this…" he said slowly, letting the words hang in the air. "But before that… I'd like you to answer a few questions."
He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. Not harshly, but with no room for doubt—if he tried to run, he'd be crushed like an insect.
The boy swallowed hard."C-Could I refuse, sir?"
His voice trembled, though he tried to keep it steady.
"Of course."
Richard shrugged; poison laced his calm. He jerked his chin toward the forest around them.
Beneath the rain, the sea of trees swayed—endless and grim. Nothing could be heard but the whisper of the storm and the wind tearing at the leaves. No voices. No human steps.
"You can refuse. And keep wandering in this desolate place… if you're lucky, you might even leave with both arms and legs."
The boy stared into the darkness between the trunks. Now that he thought about it… how had he even survived this long?
He sighed in defeat."…Alright. I'll answer."
His stomach rumbled again, almost triumphantly this time, as if celebrating his surrender. Lowering his head, he muttered under his breath:"But at least… I hope for something more than just a piece of bread."