Shojiro slammed the hatch shut behind the mother and child, the metallic clang echoing like a gunshot in the underground shelter. He didn't pause to catch his breath. His father's voice still burned in his ears:
> "Shojiro! Get them to safety! I'll hold it here!"
Adrenaline surged through every fiber of his body. Broken, battered, bruised—and yet burning with a single, unyielding purpose—he tore back up the stairwell.
But the stairwell was no longer clear. Small demons, crawling, leaping, screeching, poured from the debris above, blocking his path like swarming insects. Their claws scratched at the concrete, their eyes glowing with feral hunger.
Shojiro's heart pounded. He could feel the weight of each second. One misstep, one strike to his chest, and he would never reach his father.
The first demon lunged at him mid-stride. Shojiro sidestepped, grabbed it by the jaw, and flung it into the concrete wall. Bones shattered audibly; the creature collapsed into a twitching heap. Another leaped from the ceiling—he caught it mid-air, spinning and slamming it down in a brutal, suplex-like motion. The sickening crack of its spine echoed, but he barely registered it. He tossed its broken body behind him, buying a moment of breathing room.
More demons charged, sensing their fallen brethren's fate. Shojiro moved like a storm:
He ducked a claw, swinging a twisted pipe from the debris to crush a skull.
Another creature leapt toward his legs; he kicked it back into the wall, its bones snapping under the impact.
One lunged directly at the boy he had just saved, a hallucination in his mind—but instinctively, Shojiro ripped it mid-lunge, slammed it to the ground, and flung it into its companions like a grotesque projectile.
The demons shrieked, some turning to devour their fallen kin in a frenzy. Shojiro's chest heaved with exhaustion, blood dripping from cuts and torn skin, but his focus never wavered. Every second wasted was his father's life slipping away.
Finally, he reached the rubble-strewn street. Smoke, fire, and chaos consumed the city around him, but Shojiro's vision narrowed. One goal: reach his father, no matter the cost.
Hold on, Father… I'm coming.
Shojiro's boots pounded against the cracked asphalt as he ran back toward the last place he saw his father. Smoke stung his lungs, debris rattled underfoot, and the stench of scorched flesh and blood clawed at his senses.
Then he froze.
The Berserker had turned.
Its jaw hung open.
Inside, Tetsuro's hand — pale, mangled, bones shattered — clenched instinctively against the teeth, blood spraying into the air like a dark fountain.
Shojiro's stomach dropped.
And behind it…
His father.
Tetsuro's body was a nightmare of broken flesh and internal ruin. Ribs fractured and collapsed, blood and organs spilling onto the ground. His face was twisted in pain, yet his eyes were locked on Shojiro — alive, fighting, still human against impossible odds.
He rasped, barely a whisper:
"Sho…jiro…I'm…so..rry…run…"
The words were fading. Each heartbeat was ragged, slow, failing.
Shojiro's chest tightened. The world around him slowed. The crushed cars, the twisted bodies, the fire and smoke — none of it registered.
All he saw was his father.
All he felt was rage.
A switch flipped inside him.
Adrenaline roared. Pain disappeared. Fear evaporated. Every muscle screamed to move faster, strike harder, kill.
Shojiro clenched his fists. His knuckles cracked. His eyes burned crimson with wrath.
"You son of a—"
The Berserker noticed him. Its glowing molten veins pulsed. It turned slowly, like a predator sensing prey.
Shojiro didn't hesitate. He surged forward, pure wrath incarnate.
Every step was a shockwave. Every movement was precision and fury. His father's sacrifice was etched into his bones.
He would not let it be in vain.
The ground shook beneath the Berserker's first swipe — but this time, Shojiro was already gone, a blur of muscle, rage, and pain unbound.
Shojiro lunged, the air itself seeming to tear around him. Every heartbeat pounded in his chest like war drums. The Berserker swung, its claw snapping like a tree trunk, but Shojiro's body blurred past, moving faster than thought.
He dove under its next strike, driving a knee into its abdomen. The sound was horrifying — ribs cracking, ichor spraying in a dark fountain. The monster staggered, the force enough to launch shards of concrete into the street.
Shojiro grabbed its massive arm, not to grapple, but to wrench it at an impossible angle. Tendons screamed, the joint popped, and a gushing spray of molten-black blood shot from the socket. The Berserker howled — a sound of fury and pain, deafening in the city ruins.
He didn't pause. A spinning kick tore across its temple, cracking bone. The monster's head snapped back, teeth shattering, ichor spraying across the street. Shojiro's fist drove into its throat next, crushing cartilage and tearing the windpipe open. A gurgling, choking roar issued forth, horrifying in its intensity.
The Berserker swung wildly, smashing a nearby car. Its foot caught Shojiro mid-air, sending him spinning — but he landed on his feet, bones grinding in protest, and surged again.
A swipe from the Berserker's claw cleaved into a concrete wall behind Shojiro, tearing chunks free. He charged, shoulder-first, ramming into its knee — pulverizing the joint. The leg crumpled, the monster collapsing partially, yet still alive, still furious.
Shojiro didn't hesitate. He drove his forearm into its chest cavity, crushing ribs with sickening crunches, exposing dark organs beneath cracked bone. Blood gushed like a waterfall, coating his arms.
The monster fell to one knee, clawing at the street. Shojiro pivoted, grabbing its jaw and tearing downwards with all his might. Teeth shattered, mandible cracked, ichor and saliva splattering like molten ink across the ground.
The Berserker swung blindly, but Shojiro was everywhere at once. Every strike broke bones, smashed skulls, punctured joints. Every hit sent rivers of black blood gushing, screams echoing through the ruined streets.
Finally, Shojiro leapt high, fist drawn back, shoulder locked with explosive force — and drove it straight through the monster's head. The skull splintered like rotten wood, brain matter and ichor spraying in a terrifying arc.
The Berserker gurgled, twitching violently, before going utterly still.