The Safe

"W-Where on earth did you take us?" Hiroshi muttered, though his words were more for himself than for the woman leading them. His voice was barely above a whisper, laced with unease.

Victor and Hiroshi exchanged wary glances before their eyes darted to their surroundings. The underground expanse before them was vast yet suffocating, its air thick with the weight of long-forgotten secrets. Time had not been kind to the structure—corroded steel beams jutted out from the cracked concrete walls, remnants of an era before civilization collapsed. Dim, flickering lights embedded in the ceiling barely held their glow, casting eerie shadows that danced along the cold, damp floors.

At the far edges of the chamber, makeshift tents—tattered, weathered, and patched with whatever scraps their occupants could salvage—lined the walls like silent sentinels. They bore the weight of countless nights spent in restless vigilance, their fabric frayed from years of use. The entire shelter had the unmistakable air of something constructed long before the world above had crumbled, a relic from an age when people still believed they could control their own fate.

It was not merely a refuge but a testament to desperation—an underground sanctuary built in anticipation of disaster, long before the apocalypse proved such fears were justified.

Victor hadn’t expected to find so many survivors—certainly not this close to the ruins of his and Azumi’s home. It was both a relief and a bitter realization. How had they remained hidden for so long? And why hadn’t he known?

A sudden, piercing ache gripped his chest as Azumi’s face flashed vividly in his mind.

"Love..." He whispered the word like a prayer, his gaze fixed on the woman leading them through the dimly lit underground corridors. He and Hiroshi had no idea where she was taking them, but at this point, he had no choice.

He had no idea where Azumi was.

The weight of indecision pressed heavily on his chest. Should he abandon this path and search for her in the dark, treacherous alleys above? Or should he stay, gather information, and hope for a lead—anything that might point him toward her? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but one thing was certain: the night was merciless, and he could only pray she was strong enough to survive it.

Victor inhaled sharply, the breath stifling in his throat. Please... please be safe, love.

"You’re thinking too much."

Victor’s eyes snapped open as Hiroshi’s hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

"She'll be fine," Hiroshi assured him, his voice steadier than Victor’s own thoughts. "I don’t know Azumi well, and I don’t know the full extent of what she’s capable of, but I do know she saved Adelina’s life once." He forced a small, reassuring smile. "That has to count for something."

For the briefest moment, Hiroshi’s words eased the tension coiled in Victor’s chest. He gave a slow nod, grasping onto the shred of comfort offered.

"Adelina has supernatural abilities, too," Victor tried matching Hiroshi's tone. "I'm sure you know she's fine."

It was a quiet conversation between two men, one that wasn’t meant for the public ear but was necessary nonetheless.

Victor’s sharp eyes scanned the area once again, noting the makeshift beds made of thin blankets and tattered clothes. Children slept soundly inside the worn tents, their faces smudged with dirt but their bodies far from emaciated. They weren’t starving, at least, but they were clearly survivors—living in a world that had long since forgotten them.

He swallowed, pushing down the weight in his chest before turning his attention back to the woman.

“How long have you guys been here?” Victor finally asked, his voice measured but edged with curiosity.

"Quite some time," the woman answered without hesitation. There was no trace of uncertainty in her tone, as if she had repeated the same words many times before. “I only arrived here a year ago after waking up.”

Victor exchanged a glance with Hiroshi, the weight of her words settling between them like an unspoken puzzle.

“Waking up?” they both questioned in unison, the syllables barely leaving their lips before their thoughts were interrupted.

The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she stopped in front of a door at the very back of the structure—an imposing slab of rusted metal, its surface marred by deep scratches and corroded patches where time and moisture had eaten away at its once-sturdy frame.

Large rivets protruded from its edges, holding together a structure that had long since lost its former integrity. A small, dust-covered panel sat embedded near the center, its original purpose obscured by grime and age.

Faint, almost imperceptible streaks of red and brown lined the lower half—whether from rust or something more sinister, Victor couldn’t tell.

Without hesitation, the woman stepped forward, gripping the heavy latch. It groaned in protest as she pulled, the hinges screeching with the strain of years untouched. The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior. Without a word, she gestured for Victor and Hiroshi to enter.

Exchanging a wary glance, the two men stepped inside where they ended up standing before an man around their age, making out of a woman they don't even want to look.

"Holy—!" The man jolted upright, his startled gasp barely contained as he instinctively tried to push the half-naked woman off him. In his panic, he nearly sent her sprawling, but she caught herself, scrambling backward in alarm.

The woman, now on all fours, blinked rapidly as if trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then, in a flurry of movement, she snatched up whatever clothes she could reach, clutching them to her chest before bolting past Hiroshi and out the door without so much as a glance back.

A thick silence settled in the room, broken only by the faint creak of the old metallic door as it swayed slightly in her wake.

The man let out a long-suffering sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His polo shirt was wrinkled and barely buttoned, revealing glimpses of his chest, and his neck bore a collection of kiss marks—evidence of his previous activities, displayed like trophies on his skin. With practiced ease, he straightened his clothes, tugging his collar into place before sinking back into his chair. His entire demeanor shifted in an instant, transforming from a man caught in the act to someone sitting behind a desk as if ready to conduct serious business.

"Amanda, can't you knock?!" he groaned, tilting his head back toward the woman standing behind Victor. His voice carried more exasperation than embarrassment, as though this wasn’t the first time such an interruption had occurred.

Amanda crossed her arms, an unimpressed expression settling on her face. "Yeah, as if you'd stop even if I did," she shot back, rolling her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. Without another word, she stepped forward and stood beside the man, clearly uninterested in his antics.

She gestured toward him with a lazy wave of her hand, introducing him with the flattest tone possible.

"This is Nathan Cordova," she said, exuding an air of long-suffering patience. "Second-in-command here in the safe zone." Then, with even more irritation laced in her voice, she added, "He’s known as Code Two."

Victor and Hiroshi exchanged glances before speaking in unison, their curiosity piqued.

"Code Two?"

Nathan smirked, leaning back in his chair with an air of amusement, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the question hang between them, watching their reactions with mild interest, but all he saw is pure confusion.

"Wait." Nathan turned sharply to Amanda, his expression darkening. "You didn't introduce me before bringing them here?" His voice carried a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

Amanda crossed her arms, irritation flickering in her eyes. "I didn’t even plan to take them here. They're..." she snapped. Then, hesitating, she tilted her head as if searching for the right words—perhaps even a lie.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "They're what?"

"They are..." Amanda exhaled sharply, her gaze flickering toward the newcomers. "At least the women they’re with—they’re the ones old Yuan is looking for."

Silence hung in the air. Nathan’s posture stiffened as he processed her words, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. Slowly, he stood, towering over her. "You mean to tell me that you lost the Codes?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Amanda swallowed hard, her gaze shifting away as if hoping to avoid the accusation. But Nathan wasn’t having it. In one swift movement, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"You had one job, Amanda!" His grip was firm but not painful—just enough to make his fury known. "What numbers are they?"

Amanda hesitated again, her breath quickening. Her eyes darted toward Hiroshi and Victor, who stood there looking completely lost, confusion written all over their faces.

"I... I believe it’s Code Nine who escaped," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "The other one... I’m not sure of her number, but she’s one of the Codes."

Nathan released her abruptly, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. His jaw clenched. "So, old Yuan was right," he muttered, his gaze hardening. "Code Nine was just there all along, but—"

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" Hiroshi finally stepped forward, cutting Nathan off. His expression was tense, patience clearly running thin.

Nathan turned to him, his eyes sharp and calculating, as if debating whether to answer or not. "This doesn’t concern you," he said flatly.

Hiroshi scoffed. "Doesn't concern me? You’re clearly talking about Azumi and Adelina like they’re some kind of fugitives. I think that does concern me even him," he gestured to Victor and he nodded, stepping beside Hiroshi.

"And what the hell is a Code supposed to mean?" Victor's voice was laced with suspicion.

Amanda inhaled sharply, glancing at Nathan before looking back at the two men. "Look, it’s complicated," she said. "But you need to understand—this isn’t just some random misunderstanding. The women you’re with, they're being hunted just like Nathan and I."

Hiroshi and Victor exchanged a look.

"Hunted?" Hiroshi repeated, his voice dropping. "Why? By who?"

Nathan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "By people you don’t want to mess with." His gaze darkened. "I'm not the right person to explain everything to you, and neither is Amanda, because neither of us has any memories from before the apocalypse."

"Just like Azumi," Victor murmured, his voice quiet but deliberate, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

Hiroshi’s gaze dropped to the ground, deep in thought, before he slowly looked back up at Amanda. "Y-You mentioned that both women are Codes, right?" His voice wavered slightly, uncertainty creeping in.

Amanda hesitated before nodding. "Yes."

"Then Adelina, too..." Hiroshi’s voice trailed off as his eyes wobbled, shifting to Victor, who remained unmoving, his stare still fixed on the floor.

A tense silence settled between them before Victor finally spoke, his voice low and cautious. "Are they like... experiments?"

Nathan and Amanda exchanged a look, but neither answered until a voice of an old woman snapped them all to look behind Hiroshi and Victor.

"Experiments… Specimens…" The old woman started with a low chuckle, her voice raspy with age as she slowly walked beside Hiroshi.

Her frail frame was draped in a tattered, earth-toned shawl that barely concealed the layers of worn clothing beneath. Deep lines carved into her weathered face, each wrinkle a silent testament to the years she had endured.

Her piercing gray eyes, clouded yet sharp with knowledge, held an unsettling glint as they flickered between them. Wisps of thin, silvery-white hair framed her sunken cheeks, swaying slightly with each step she took.

Though her movements were slow, there was a quiet strength in the way she carried herself—an air of someone who had seen the world crumble and still lived to tell the tale.

A faint scent of dried herbs clung to her, mingling with the dust of the wasteland. The gnarled fingers resting against the wooden cane she leaned on trembled slightly, but whether from age or something else, it was hard to tell.

"The Codes," she cleared her throat, her voice rough but steady. "These are the people who underwent surgeries to allegedly create an antidote for immunity against zombification. However..." Her clouded gray eyes seemed to widen slightly, as if recalling something unsettling.

"Some of them only developed unnatural abilities—superhuman strength, heightened senses—and others..." She exhaled sharply. "Others didn’t survive at all."

The room fell into a tense silence as her words hung in the air. She continued, her voice laced with something between bitterness and regret. "There were twenty Codes in total, but only nine made it through."

She paused, her thin lips curling into a knowing smile. "And Code Nine..." Her voice carried an eerie reverence. "I believe she was the perfect creation."

Then, just as quickly, her smile faded. The warmth in her expression drained, replaced by something colder. "But entirely dangerous."