THE PROMISE OF SURVIVAL

"Jon, did you hear about the outbreak in Standridge?"

"Oh, I did. They say it's spreading at an alarming rate! Half the city is already infected!"

"That's a big problem!"

"Yeah, a very big one! News just came in that the disease has already been confirmed in about six other countries in the United States!"

"What?! Scary... What are they calling it?"

"The Nehu-virus... Strange name, right? According to a doctor who studied the virus, the worms that spread this disease have the Hebrew word Nehushim written on their bodies!"

"Whaaat!? Don't tell me it's what I'm thinking!"

"The end of days, man! It's the end of days!"

"But I haven't even f*cked Lisa yet!"

"Well, it doesn't matter, 'cause we're both going to hell!"

"Haha, you're right!"

---

Mr. Whitmore immediately switched off the radio in fear. His hands trembled as he gripped the steering wheel, sweat dripping down his forehead. His breathing grew heavier.

"Mr. Whitmore, what do we do?" the female teacher asked.

"We have to be careful from now on," he replied, his voice still shaky. "There's a military camp just down south. I know someone there."

The female teacher and a few students sighed in relief. But suddenly, a black Maserati appeared beside them. The tinted window rolled down, and Leo poked his head out.

"I hope you die, Mr. Whitmore!"

"What... how... how are you still alive?" Mr. Whitmore asked in shock.

The front window rolled down as well, revealing Arora, who frowned at him. Then the window went up, and the black Maserati sped off.

Mr. Whitmore panicked. Leo being alive was a problem—he could be arrested for attempted murder. But at the moment, there was nothing he could do. His priority was getting himself and the students to safety.

---

Damon's eyes slowly opened, his vision blurred by the blood pooling in them. He could feel the worms coursing through every vein in his body, their movements sending jolts of pain throughout him.

He gritted his teeth, struggling to his feet. Surrounding him were the two black tigers Arora's sister had supposedly locked in a classroom. They circled him, growling and snarling, their blood-red eyes filled with murderous intent.

Damon picked up the huge knife and stood his ground. There was nowhere to run. Either he fought, or he died.

The tiger behind him launched itself at him, but he sidestepped, dodging the attack. Just as he raised the knife to strike, the second tiger lunged. Damon jumped backward to avoid it, missing his chance to stab the first one.

Pain shot through him as the worms beneath his skin twisted violently. The tigers didn't give him a moment to recover—they launched a combo attack.

Damon could have avoided it, but the pain slowed him down. One tiger's claws dug into his chest, while the other slashed across his abdomen.

The tiger on the right lunged, trying to sink its teeth into his skull, but Damon held it back with his right arm. Meanwhile, the other kept clawing at him, bits of his skin landing on the blood-stained grass below.

"I'm tired..." he muttered. "Should I just give up? What exactly am I fighting for? My father's dead. Vanessa's dead..."

"Who says I'm dead?"

Vanessa suddenly appeared before him.

"Vanessa..." Damon's eyes widened, blood-red tears streaming down his face. "How are you alive? I've missed you so much..."

She chuckled. "Hello? Now's not the time for romantic sentiments. You're kind of in a situation right now."

"How are you alive?" Damon asked again, even as one tiger tore into him and the other tried to crush his skull.

"We'll talk if you get out of this alive," Vanessa said, then turned and jogged toward the main bureau.

Damon shoved one of the tigers off him, and with his left hand, he drove the knife into the other tiger, stabbing it repeatedly until it died.

The surviving tiger glanced at its dead brothers—the one Damon had just killed and the other, whose head had been blown to pieces. It growled at Damon before bolting toward the school gate.

Damon didn't stop to check his wounds. He ran straight to the Main Bureau. Mina was right—the place had a foreboding feel. The once vibrant green grass had turned black. The air was unnaturally cold, and black snakes slithered across the field.

Damon hesitated at first, but when he saw Vanessa waving at him from a window, he pushed his fear aside and approached the door. He carefully avoided the snakes, unsure whether they were venomous.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the doorknob. With a soft click, the door swung open.

The sight inside sent chills down his spine.

On the ground lay the Doombringer, one of its pages flipping back and forth as if caught in an unseen breeze. Hovering above it were several flying entities—wraiths.

The book rested at the center of a circle made of thick, pulsating veins that stretched into the ground. They beat rhythmically, as if blood coursed through them.

Damon glanced around and froze.

A pair of eyes peered at him from a dark corner of the room.

A dark humanoid creature lunged at him. Damon barely managed to push it off and scrambled to his feet. As he did, he spotted Vanessa standing behind the creature, smiling.

"You're not Vanessa," Damon said, narrowing his eyes.

"Not who, what," she corrected. She patted the creature's head while keeping her gaze locked on Damon. "She liked you a lot, you know."

"Who?"

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Duh. Vanessa. Me?"

"You're not Vanessa," Damon insisted.

"Your friend said the same thing. But now, he thinks I'm her—and worships me." She took slow, deliberate steps toward him.

Damon raised his knife. "Who are you?"

"That's not the problem right now." She waved off his question. "What is a problem... is why you're still alive."

"What?"

"The Raijins—those tigers. You got slashed by their claws. That should've killed you. It should've turned you into this." She motioned toward the dark humanoid creature at her side. "And yet, somehow, you're still standing. A scratch might have been survivable, but you got their blood all over you. You should've died, Damon."

"Let's just say I can't die yet—not until I put an end to this," he replied.

"You can't stop me," Vanessa said, laughing darkly. "But I'd love to see you try."

"I will stop you," Damon said firmly, standing tall, determination burning in his eyes.

"I promise you'll fail."

"What makes you so sure?"

Vanessa smirked. "Kid, you're not the first person who's tried to stop me. You won't be the last. I've conquered thousands of worlds, and yours is the weakest among them."

She turned to leave, the creature moving alongside her.

Damon glanced at the Doombringer, then back at her.

"Oh," she added as if remembering something. "You can take the book if you want... but I doubt you'll survive what happens after." She flashed him a cruel grin. "I hope you do survive, though—you gotta keep your promise, after all."