A nap in the morning sun

Year 11 in City M

The sun, if it still existed, was nowhere to be seen. Gray clouds perpetually covered the sky, barely filtering enough light to make out the ruins of what was once a thriving city. Jhon moved in silence, his steps firm but cautious among the rubble and shadows. The landscape was a reminder of what they had left behind, but the city was no longer his main concern. The portal in the basement of his shelter, the origin of the Scavengers, was the real threat. That portal had never closed, and Jhon knew that as long as it remained active, the creatures would keep coming.

There were no longer any Scavengers roaming the streets of City M. Jhon and his team, the Crimson Wolves, had managed to eliminate them in the early years before most of them fell. But every creature that emerged from the portal was another battle, another reminder that there was no escape. It had been 11 years since he got trapped in the city along with his squad, but for the last 7 years, he had been alone. The last survivor.

His body was no longer what it used to be. The flesh of the Scavengers, his only source of food for years, was taking its toll on him. Every bite weakened him a little more, turning his skin grayish and making his wounds slower to heal. He knew how to treat the flesh to reduce the damage, but months had passed since the necessary supplies had run out to do it effectively. Still, he had to keep eating to survive.

As he moved toward his target—a former watchtower where he had seen activity the previous night—his mind began to wander. Those days in City H, when the hope of closing the portals was still alive, seemed like part of another life. Before the weight of the years and the losses began to crush him.

Flashback: Days with the Crimson Wolves

City H, two years before City M

The black rain pounded against the broken windows of the shelter. Jhon, sitting on an old supply crate, meticulously cleaned his rifle, his movements automatic after months of repetition. Beside him, Oliv lay on the floor, hands crossed behind her head, watching the droplets fall from the shattered ceiling.

"You know what I miss?" Oliv said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Jhon glanced up, still focused on the rifle.

"Enlighten me," he replied with a tired smile.

Oliv lazily pointed towards the window. Outside, small black droplets fell in a constant rhythm.

"Real rain. Not this corrosive crap. There was something about rain that made everything… I don't know, better. Like the world was just a bit cleaner afterward."

Jhon remained silent for a moment, trying to recall the last time he had seen normal rain. He struggled to remember.

"I guess you're right. Though I'd take a nap under the morning sun over that," he said with a touch of nostalgia.

Oliv smiled with a knowing look.

"When we're done cleaning out this city, you can have your nap. And after that, we can run through the rain for a while," she added, her voice laced with unexpected determination.

Jhon glanced at her, surprised.

"A date, huh? You know, you just need to ask," he joked, trying to return her comment with some teasing.

Oliv laughed, her loud chuckle echoing through the small room.

"Why not? A date. We'll see if you earn it, soldier."

Jhon smiled, but couldn't help noticing how her eyes grew serious for a second. Maybe they both knew that, in this world, promises of the future were little more than fantasies.

Training Area

Jhon panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Marcus, his training partner, didn't seem the least bit tired. Standing at 6'7" of pure muscle, Marcus had the advantage of size and strength, and he made it clear with every punch he threw.

"Come on, Jhon! I know you can do better than that. Show me you can hit harder than a little girl!" Marcus roared, throwing a punch that Jhon barely dodged, rolling to the side.

Jhon quickly straightened up, throwing a series of rapid punches. But each one was easily blocked by Marcus's powerful arms.

"It's not just about strength, Marcus," Jhon said between heavy breaths.

"I know," Marcus replied with a crooked grin. "But if you're not making me sweat, then you're not fighting seriously, wimp."

Jhon chuckled between gasps and shook his head.

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day. Trouble you might not get out of. And you know…" Jhon looked at him seriously as he regained his stance, "I really don't want to be there when that happens."

Marcus let out a booming laugh, unfazed.

"You better be there, 'cause there won't be anyone else who can handle my glorious ass," he said with a mocking smile.

The challenge in Marcus's eyes made Jhon focus more. He knew he couldn't match Marcus's brute strength, but he had something Marcus didn't: speed. This time, he moved with more precision, looking for weaknesses in his opponent's guard.

"You better," Marcus muttered, now sweating a little more.

At night, around the chess table

The shelter felt a bit cozier at night. A small battery-powered lamp lit up the rusty metal table where Alicia and Oliv were locked in a fierce chess match. Jhon and Carlos watched from the side, enjoying the show. Carlos, with his usual mischievous smile, couldn't help but comment on every move.

—"Did you know this game is over a thousand years old?" —said Carlos, leaning toward the table with the enthusiasm of a schoolteacher. Alicia moved her bishop with almost inhuman concentration.

—"One of the few things that survived all this mess," —Carlos added, glancing at Jhon as if seeking approval.

Jhon nodded, his eyes fixed on the board.

—"Strategy, patience... exactly what we need to survive here," —he murmured, as if reflecting more on their situation than on the game itself.

Oliv laughed, moving his queen with a bold move that put one of Alicia's rooks in danger.

—"Less patience, more action. That's how we should play this, guys," —said Oliv, challenging Alicia with his gaze.

Alicia, always calm, simply smiled.

—"That's your downfall, Oliv," —she replied as she moved her knight, trapping Oliv's queen in an unexpected checkmate—. "You always think short-term."

—"Damn it... you did it again," —Oliv groaned, slumping back as Carlos burst into laughter.

—"Maybe you'll learn someday," —Jhon said with a smile—. "Or maybe Alicia is the only genius here."

Alicia gathered the pieces with a small smile of satisfaction. In those moments, they forgot everything else: the portals, the Scavengers, and the constant danger. They were just themselves, sharing a small victory in the midst of the nightmare.

Year 11 in City M

Jhon shook the memory from his mind, forcing himself to focus on reality. It had been a long time since he stopped thinking about the team. Marcus, Oliv, the others. They had all been gone during the first few years, one by one, until only he remained. On the darkest days, Jhon wondered if it wouldn't be better to die. But something, a force beyond his understanding, kept him standing. A promise.

That promise still kept him moving, day after day, though every step grew harder.

The portal kept spewing Scavengers, and though the creatures were fewer now, each battle was a reminder of his fragility. The nights were the worst. The sound of the portal, like a constant high-pitched hum, seeped through the walls of his shelter. Sometimes he dreamed of the beasts crawling toward him in his sleep, their grayish claws tearing at his skin.

The watchtower now in sight was his only relief in the midst of all that chaos. From there, he could see much of the city and keep an eye on any new potential threats. He had also noticed strange movement the previous night and needed to confirm that it wasn't a new wave of Scavengers. If there was one thing he'd learned over the years, it was that survival depended on anticipating the threat, not reacting to it.

Flashback: Day 1 in City M

"Don't stop, Jhon," Cecilia, his commander, had told him the day everything changed. "Remember, the only way to survive is to keep moving. Don't think, don't hesitate."

Cecilia's words echoed in his mind as they ran through the devastated streets of City M, dodging debris and remnants of past battles. In the distance, the echo of the Carrion's growls resonated, a constant threat in the dark.

Marcus had shoved him to the right, both of them gasping for breath as the whole team moved toward what looked like a temporary refuge. Oliv, ever vigilant, covered the rear, her rifle ready for any surprise attack.

"This isn't going to last long," Marcus said, his voice strained as he glanced at the dark horizon and the unstable portal threatening to release more monsters. "When we get out of here, I swear I'm buying you the best beer in the city."

Jhon managed a small smile, but he knew it was those kinds of promises, those small flashes of normalcy, that kept them sane. They clung to the hope of a future where they could forget the horrors of City M.

The refuge they found was little more than a crumbling building, with some walls still intact and a clear view of the portal. They called it "Alpha Base," an ironic mockery of what would once have been a true military checkpoint.

They spent a few days setting up defenses and securing the area. Jhon knew that every minute counted, giving them a slight advantage, but reality soon became clear: City M was doomed, and so were they if they didn't close the portal in time.

That was when Cecilia, their commander and the backbone of the team, received orders to leave City M for an even more urgent mission. She left them with clear instructions and a quick goodbye, promising to return when she could. But Jhon had seen the look in her eyes—a mix of guilt and resignation.

"You know what you need to do, Jhon," she said in a low tone, close enough that only he could hear her. "You're more than capable of leading this. I trust you and the Wolves. Don't let anything stop you."

And with that, she was gone. The team remained in City M, tasked with stopping what seemed to be an uncontrollable portal. The first days without her were chaotic. Despite the team's solid structure, Cecilia's absence left a palpable void. There was no time to process the loss of their leader; the imminent danger gave them no respite.

"We're not going to let her down," Oliv said, her jaw clenched as she adjusted her rifle. "We'll do it, and when we make it, the next round of beer's on her."

Jhon nodded. He knew the only way to survive was to keep moving, just as Cecilia had told him. But something inside him warned that getting out of City M wouldn't be so easy.

Day by day, the Carrion hordes grew. The defenses they had set up began to buckle. Jhon could see the strain on his teammates' faces, but they all shared the same determination: to resist until their last breath.

Now, trapped in the city, with no way to communicate with the outside world and the portal growing more unstable, Marcus's promise of a beer after all this seemed like a distant fantasy. But Jhon held onto it, to those small gestures, because it was the only thing keeping the spark of hope alive.

Year 11 in City M

When he finally reached the watchtower, Jhon felt relieved to see no Carrion nearby. The portal hadn't spewed out any more creatures in recent days, but that only meant something worse was coming. He had learned the hard way: the portal was never dormant for long.

From the top of the tower, he looked out over the city's ruins. Nothing moved. The empty streets and shattered buildings were a reflection of what was left of him: ruins, fragments of what he once was.

He knelt, his body exhausted, pressing his forehead against the cold floor of the tower. His breathing was heavy, ragged. The promise that had kept him going, the promise that pushed him to keep fighting, still burned in his mind, but it felt increasingly distant, more irrelevant.

Sometimes he wondered if he was mad for clinging to something that might not make sense after all these years. But what else did he have? What else could he do in this hell other than keep fighting, keep surviving until the portal finally closed or he fell?

He opened his eyes and stood up. Today wouldn't be that day.

City M, Year 11

Jhon arrived at the watchtower. He climbed the rusted stairs that creaked under his weight, each step echoing in the oppressive silence. Despite the structure threatening to collapse, he continued his ascent, guided by a mixture of instinct and desperation. Upon reaching the top, he paused for a moment, leaning slightly to catch his breath. From there, he gazed over the crumbling city, a vast cemetery of concrete and steel, trapped in the eternal twilight imposed by the perpetual storm over City M.

The landscape was gray, bleak, as if the entire world was frozen in an endless dusk. The thick, dust-laden air gave an almost surreal touch to the desolate streets. The ruined buildings stood like titans of a past no one remembered, while the sky, covered by black clouds that never dissipated, barely filtered enough light to distinguish the shadows of disaster. The only constant was the distant roar of the storm, a reminder of the chaos that still surrounded him.

The portal was still there, in the basement of his old refuge, hidden beneath layers of concrete and reinforced metal. There were no signs of its glow, as it had been built to contain any energy leaks that might endanger what little remained of the city. However, Jhon could feel it, like a cursed presence that never stopped haunting him.

He pulled out an old pair of night-vision binoculars, activating the infrared mode to scan for signs of life in the shadows. His enhanced vision, thanks to biological modifications, allowed him to scan the horizon with precision. Suddenly, something caught his attention. A humanoid figure moved among the rubble, with calculated movements, advancing with the caution of someone impeccably trained.

Jhon adjusted the binoculars, focusing with more precision. The figure was covered in what appeared to be a special suit, one he didn't recognize. It moved fluidly, avoiding any unnecessary noise, as if it knew the area well. This unsettled him. No one else, as far as he knew, had that kind of discipline in the city—at least not since his squad had fallen.

Lowering the binoculars, his heart pounded. A mix of fear and uncertainty crept into his mind. Who was this person? And how had they gotten this far, to the very edge of hell itself?

Jhon knew he couldn't afford illusions. If someone had survived as long as he had in City M, he had to find out if they were a potential ally or an immediate threat. He adjusted his rifle, descending from the tower with calculated precision. As he did, his mind clouded with memories of better times, of the people he had lost, the broken promises, and the moments where he had failed.

If this figure was real, if they had truly survived as long as he had, then he would have to face a question he had always avoided: why hadn't he found anyone else until now?

With that uncertainty gnawing at his mind, Jhon advanced toward the figure, his rifle ready, knowing that the next moment could be the last encounter he would have in this devastated city.