Two days had passed since that skirmish. Only me, Viktor, and my faithful Kitsune remained in the house. The soldier who had shot his comrade had left in their vehicle—a monster, of course, but I didn't judge him. Everyone here had their own psychological line they couldn't cross. He had crossed his.
Viktor got up from his chair and walked over to the radio hanging on the wall. It hissed and crackled.
Pshhh-pshhhh...
— Come in... Come in... Who... hears... me... — fragments of voices broke through the heavy static.
Viktor took the radio, pressed the activation button, and started speaking:
— Yes, I'm here. I can barely hear you, interference.
Pshshh-pshshh...
Viktor strained his ears but still struggled to understand. He managed to figure out what it was about and gave his location.
— Underst… wait there… we'll send… people… to pick you up… it's dangerous there… a combat squad will arrive soon… — came through the radio.
Viktor slowly moved the radio away from his face.
— A combat squad?.. — he muttered.
— Hm, a combat squad? — I raised an eyebrow. — Is that bad or good?
Everything inside me clenched. A combat squad meant people. People from this world. People who would have questions. A lot of questions. Who was I? Where was I from? Why was I the only survivor? What happened to those monsters? My System, my skills—it was all too suspicious. I was an anomaly, and anomalies here were either dissected or liquidated.
"I'd like to stay here, hunt," I began to think. "I still have three years anyway. But no... It'll be difficult with them. Probably better to leave. At night. That would be smarter."
— Okay, — Viktor said, more to himself than to me. — We'll wait.
He walked over to the chair and heavily dropped into it, letting out a tired sound: — Ughhh...
Several hours passed. Night had long since fallen outside. The watch I'd taken from one of the dead soldiers showed 02:12. The time had come.
I silently rose from the mattress. The Kitsune immediately opened one eye, alert. I made a hand signal—"quiet." It understood instantly, stood up, and began circling me, rubbing against my legs.
I started gathering my things. Meager possessions: some food (the same wolf meat), a canteen of water, the first-aid kit, a warm coat I'd found in the house. And, of course, my black sword with scarlet patterns. It had become a part of me.
I opened the door a crack—the old hinges almost creaked, but I managed to hold it. Slipped outside, the Kitsune right behind me. Closed the door just as quietly.
Immediately, wind and snow assaulted me. Cold, biting, blinding. I pulled up the hood of my coat and looked around. The darkness was almost absolute, only the crimson glow of the moon breaking through the clouds.
About a hundred meters away, on a hillock, the outlines of something large and ruined were visible. A mill? A barn? Didn't matter. I headed toward it, sinking knee-deep in snow. The Kitsune ran after me, leaving a chain of small footprints.
I approached the structure. Half-destroyed, creaky. Inside—emptiness, cobwebs, and wind whistling through cracks in the boards.
— Nothing here, — I whispered. — Alright. Gotta go.
I stood on the threshold of this old barn, staring into the impenetrable darkness of the forest that was to become my new home. Where to go? Didn't know. The main thing was to get away from people. Away from questions.
I took the first step into the night. The Kitsune nudged my hand with its muzzle, as if asking, "Are you sure?"
— Yes, — I answered aloud. — Forward. As long as there's somewhere to go.
And we dissolved into the blizzard, leaving behind the warm light of the house and the hope of rescue that I didn't need.
Several days passed. A week, maybe. Time flowed differently in the endless snows and forests, measured only by the rise and set of the crimson moon and the growth of the percentage in "Swordsmanship."
A teenager with pale skin, brown eyes, and hair blacker than coal walked west. Beside him, sinking into snowdrifts, ran the Kitsune, its three tails raised like antennas sensing danger.
Azrael stopped to catch his breath. The vapor from his breath instantly froze in the air.
— Status, — he commanded mentally.
System:
Name: Azrael
Age: 17 (***)
Vitality: 150/150
Skills:
Swordsmanship: 34%
Assassin's Skill: [ACTIVATED]
[UNAVAILABLE]
[UNAVAILABLE]
[UNAVAILABLE]
— Hmm, — he muttered, frowning irritably. — Why "unavailable"? What do I need to do to unlock them? Kill more monsters? Survive a certain amount of time? Or...
His thoughts were interrupted by the Kitsune's alarmed growl. The little beast bristled, looking deep into the forest. Azrael instantly went on alert, gripping the sword's hilt. But no danger followed. The Kitsune, calming down, rubbed against his leg again.
— Alright, — he sighed. — I'll figure it out later.
After a few more days and nights spent in endless wandering, he was awakened by an insistent, monotonous sound.
B-Ding! B-Ding! B-Ding!
— Damn it, what the fuck is that sound? — he grumbled, struggling to open his eyes.
He was lying in a small, shallow cave that he and the Kitsune had found for shelter the night before. Nearby, curled up in a warm blue ball, the fox slept.
The sound wasn't coming from outside. It was sounding right inside his head. Azrael looked ahead and saw something that made his heart skip a beat for a moment.
Before him, glowing brightly in the cave's gloom, hung a System window. But this time it wasn't red, but ominously gold, and in its center pulsated the words:
«QUEST»
OBJECTIVE: Save a person.
REWARD: A gift.
PUNISHMENT: System shutdown for one week.
Azrael stared at the message, not believing his eyes.
— What the... Am I still asleep? — he whispered. — A quest? An objective? "Save a person"? What person? Where, damn it? — his voice rose, betraying growing panic and anger. — I don't understand, dammit!
He read the lines again.
— Reward—"a gift." What kind of gift, for fuck's sake? Another fucking bandage? And the punishment... — he read the last line, and the blood drained from his face. — "System shutdown for one week." Are you fucking kidding me? Without these skills, I'm a total loser! I'll die here on the first day!
He kicked a nearby stone, and it clattered off the cave wall. The Kitsune woke up from the noise and stared at him with concern.
— Fine, — he grumbled, resigning himself to the inevitable. — Gotta find this person. "Save a person" means I need to look for people. Or is he already here somewhere, dying?
He left the cave, the Kitsune at his heels. The morning was gloomy and windy. He surveyed the endless snowy expanses, feeling utterly lost.
— Fuck, system, are you just messing with me? — he shouted into the empty, frosty sky. — Can you at least point an arrow, tell me which way to go?!
In response, that annoying "B-Ding!" sounded in his head again, and the golden quest window reappeared, stubbornly hanging in the air. No arrows. No hints.
Giving up, Azrael chose a direction at random—simply because the slope there was slightly less steep.
— Let's go, — he tossed to the Kitsune. — I hope this "gift" is fucking worth it.
He strode forward, cursing the system, the world, his fate under his breath. But somewhere deep down, another feeling stirred—excitement. The first goal that wasn't just survival. A mystery. A challenge.
And he hated himself for being interested.