'How can he be so carefree?' Asher thought as he stood up. Even he, despite having witnessed a thousand gruesome deaths in his nightmares, was still feeling his heart hammering against his ribs. The fear of death was a physical weight he couldn't shake.
But this guy? He didn't even look a bit scared! He even looked-!
K-K-KRRAAA!
Before he could dwell on it, a guttural roar echoed from the corridor, followed by a scream that was cut short.
TRR!
The sound of scrabbling claws on metal grew closer.
"We need to move," Asher said, while already turning toward the compartment door, his mind racing through the fragmented scenes from his dreams. 'It must be that one!'
"Move where?" the carefree boy asked, not moving.
"Anywhere but here!" Asher hissed, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He risked a glance back.
The boy nodded faintly before grabbing his own bag and stepping closer. "You have a plan?"
"...Yes," Asher replied, "but I will need your help. Can you tell me your rank and speciality?"
Honestly, he didn't want to have a freeloader or a weak teammate. They'd be a liability, a drain on resources and attention he couldn't afford.
The boy shrugged. "Level two Adept. Flux Vein."
'He's the same rank as me?' Asher's eyes widened briefly, but he quickly composed himself.
"I'm the same rank, but a Rune Vein Arcanist." He paused briefly before adding. "I believe you were heading to the exam as well. But if we can't survive this," he said, gesturing to the shuddering walls and distant screams, "there won't be an exam to take."
Asher then lifted his arc-watch, its screen dark.
"Signal's dead. But the train's distress beacon should have triggered automatically. We just need to hold out until rescue arrives. The problem is..." He glanced toward the corridor where the sounds of panic were undiminished. "There might be others who need help before then. People who can't fight. So tell me, are you in or not?"
He was testing the waters. In his memories, surviving alone was possible, but groups that cooperated had higher survival rates—if they were competent. This strangely calm Flux user could be an asset, or he could be a dead weight disguised as cool indifference.
"Do you have any combat skills with that Flux Vein? Or is it all theory?" Asher asked, his tone blunt. They didn't have time for niceties; the monsters were already close.
"No," The boy replied flatly. "But I can protect myself."
Asher gave a tight nod while complaining inwardly. 'Just great.'
Still, if the guy could at least stay alive and not drag him down, it was better than nothing.
'They are here!' The next second, Asher's hand went to the beautiful silver chain around his neck, the only luxury he'd managed to keep. With a flash of will, a sleek, silver-tipped spear materialized in his grip, its shaft gleaming dully in the red emergency light. He dropped into a ready stance, his eyes fixed on the shuddering compartment door.
THUD!
The metal door dented inward with the force of the blow. Asher's knuckles turned white on the spear.
CRASH!
The door gave way, tearing from its hinges. A hulking, furry shape stumbled through the opening, a Glimmerfang, saliva dripping from its distended jaws, its eyes burning with sickly yellow light.
Asher didn't hesitate.
"Hah!"
He lunged, driving the spear point deep into the creature's shoulder before it could regain its balance. The monster howled in pain.
But the victory was short-lived. Two more shapes filled the shattered doorway, snarling, their pack instincts triggered by their ally's cry.
Asher cursed inwardly, yanking his spear free with a twist, finishing this one off.
"I'll take one, you take the other!" he shouted, already shifting his stance to engage the one on the left. He didn't look back. The boy had said he could protect himself.
And now was the time to prove it.
Asher feinted low with the spear, drawing the beast's lunge, then sidestepped and thrust at its exposed flank. But it managed to dodge at the last moment, though the spear's tip grazed its ribs, drawing a line of dark blood.
The beast snarled, the injury only fueling its rage. It ignored the pain and lunged again, a wild, full-body pounce that left it wide open.
'Got you!'
Asher dropped his center of gravity, braced the spear's butt against the floor, and triggered a Force-Amplification Rune on his bracer. His muscles thrummed with power.
"Die!"
He thrust upward.
The spear met the beast's momentum head-on. The reinforced tip punched through fur, muscle, and bone, erupting from the back of the monster's neck with a sickening crunch. The creature's charge died mid-air. It collapsed, twitching, at his feet.
Asher yanked his spear free, breathing hard, and whirled to face the second threat.
The sight that greeted him was… odd.
The other Glimmerfang was shaking its massive head, dazed, with a fresh dent in the metal wall beside it. And Ryn was just landing lightly on the floor from the top bunk, a length of broken metal conduit in his hand.
As the beast focused, snarling, the boy took two quick steps forward and swung the conduit like a bat.
It landed directly against the side of the creature's skull.
THONK.
The sound was almost comical. The Glimmerfang's snarl cut off. It stumbled sideways, its legs buckling, and slumped to the floor, unconscious or dead.
The boy looked at the bent conduit in his hand, then dropped it with a clatter. He glanced at Asher's spear, then at the two fallen beasts.
"You are good," he praised.
"You're not bad either," Asher replied before cautiously stepping toward the door.
"I am Asher," he introduced himself, his voice low as he peered through the shattered doorway into the flickering corridor. "You?"
"Ryn." The boy replied calmly.
"Ok, Ryn. Follow me. Stay close and quiet."