Sense Of Belonging

Erica had escaped.

Miseria had clawed the truth from her mind, piece by fragile piece, but even she hadn't expected the deeper horror beneath it all.

Erica's dormant ability was grotesque enough—she could sculpt puppets from the living, twisting flesh and soul into obedient marionettes. Her Awakened ability gave her control over many. But her Ascended ability? It transcended flesh.

She could inhabit them.

She could become them.

And as long as a single puppet remained somewhere in the world, Erica was effectively immortal.

Miseria hadn't anticipated that. No one really had—as if Erica wasn't formidable enough already.

Still, Erica had been contained. Bound in enchanted chains and her abilities sealed. Even she seemed rattled by that.

And yet… she found a way.

She killed herself.

Suicide… or something more deliberate?

The Ascendancy didn't know. No one did.

Maybe her consciousness had slipped into another vessel, and she was hiding—waiting for a new opportunity to attack.

Or maybe… she was gone.

Either way, it no longer mattered.

They had the location of the base.

Bec d'Ambès was the confluence of the Garonne and Dordogne rivers, located in the Gironde estuary, fifteen miles north of Bordeaux.

Once the site of a crucial oil refinery—bombed into oblivion during World War II—it was rebuilt afterward.

According to historical records, the place recovered... but then it was destroyed again when the Dark Ages began.

Maybe that was because, during the Dark Age, the world powers had emptied their nuclear arsenals like spoiled children throwing tantrums.

Cities became craters, countries were buried in ash, and all of Europe was shattered.

The radiation here wasn't the worst—but it lingered like breath on a mirror. Just enough to kill slowly, quietly. The kind of death you didn't notice until it was too late. Driver had ensured their mobile suits could withstand it. For now at the very least.

But Ambès still felt wrong.

Driver wasn't sure why, but the radiation level—just 0.076 sieverts (Sv) an hour ago—had now risen to 1.045 Sv. It wasn't just bizarre… it was dangerous.

At 0.076 Sv, it was manageable. Radiation at that level wasn't really harmful.

But now? At 1.045 Sv?

It was lethal—not just for ordinary humans, but even for Awakened.

Sure, Awakened could come out relatively unscathed. They'd just suffer some fatigue, nausea… maybe lose a bit of hair too.

(Not that bald guys would mind.)

But for normal humans, it was deadly. It could destroy the immune system, cause organ failure, damage DNA… and possibly bring fertility issues as well.

Klaus already understood the nature of radioactivity—but what he couldn't figure out was why the radiation levels were rising and falling so randomly.

It remained an unsolvable puzzle for him… and by the looks of it, it still would.

Now he had nothing to do but wait.

So Klaus sat in the brittle quiet as Driver scanned the terrain. Her shoulders were tense, and her dirty blonde hair was pulled back hastily by trembling hands. The machinery buzzed faintly behind her.

After several minutes, she hissed through her teeth and rubbed her temples.

"I found them," she muttered. "But there's a problem. It's underground—and there are four escape routes. Expected, sure, but… this place..."

She looked around, eyes narrowing at the air itself.

"…it's off. It feels like something's still breathing under the soil."

Klaus said nothing. He only glanced at the ground—and noticed his shadow hadn't moved.

It felt strange—to be separated from your shadow.

Now Klaus was certain: radiation wasn't just an enemy of nature and life. It corrupted everything—DNA, shadows, even the mind. It was the ultimate form of decay… a silent catastrophe.

Of course, he knew the science behind it. It wasn't truly a shadow burned into the wall or ground by thermal radiation. It only appeared that way. In reality, the person or object had shielded that part of the surface, leaving a stark contrast between the scorched and the untouched.

So it wasn't really his shadow at all.

It was a hibakusha's shadow.

At least it wasn't like Chernobyl.

That place was still alive—just not in a way anyone would recognize.

"I'll take the south tunnel," Klaus said. "Driver, Isaac—cover the east. Noah and Lich, west. Tatiana and Diego handle north. Once the base is secured, we interrogate whoever's left. Learn what Yggdrasil wants… and what this Amelia is."

Key members of the Ascendancy nodded at their director's words.

The plan was simple, already discussed in detail, and everyone knew how to approach the situation and handle it cleanly.

Well… even if they knew, that didn't mean they liked following the rules.

A few grand fireworks—and something (or someone) buried in the base—were probably to be expected.

Klaus rolled his neck until the joints cracked and vanished from the meeting space.

---

A man appeared out of nowhere in the bleak, lifeless land.

His expression was slightly amused, which only made him more disturbing—despite his otherworldly features.

His lab coat fluttered in the wind, but the stench it carried made the young man wince in disgust.

Klaus shook his head, already expecting the filth that radiation dragged along. He was familiar with it by now—but the more he watched how it affected the world, the greedier he felt.

If he could just find...

He sighed. There was no point in thinking about it.

Now wasn't the time to satisfy his personal avarice.

He looked around, ambès felt like it had been reclaimed by something ancient and sick. Vines curled like entrails across the blackened soil. Trees towered where they shouldn't—warped, hunched, oozing sap the color of blood plasma. Others looked petrified mid-growth, like they'd died screaming and were never buried.

His eyes began to glow faintly with that familiar violet light.

At the moment, he wasn't exactly overgeared. Heck, he was just wearing his lab coat, a white shirt, and wide, casual pants.

While natural radiation without any mystical properties couldn't harm his ascended body, it still caused him discomfort.

That's why he pulled out his helmet and put it on.

The helmet was fully sealed—a dome-shaped headgear made of tough, transparent plastic that covered his entire face and head, making him look like some creepy scientist.

Which, to be fair, he was... but that wasn't the point.

He observed the area with quiet fascination.

Klaus was, by nature, a deeply curious person. Lich had once claimed that if Klaus had lived in his era, he would have been highly respected—acknowledged as a true seeker of truth.

What Lich hadn't said, though, was that Klaus's curiosity and audacity even surpassed his lady's.

Clearly intrigued by the ruined land, Klaus locked eyes with a crow.

It sat on a crumbled fence post, staring back at him.

But its form was disturbing—disgusting, to say the least.

One side of its body was feathered. The other was raw, inflamed, and veiny in a way that simply felt wrong.

Its skin peeled back in places, revealing blackened bone beneath.

Two crooked beaks jutted from its face, fused side by side, drooling a viscous liquid that hissed as it struck the earth.

It was eating a corpse.

When it pecked, the flesh sizzled—leaving behind glowing, smoking holes.

Klaus raised an eyebrow at the crow, a little baffled—because it wasn't eating a random corpse.

It was devouring its own kin.

"…What in actual—"

"W-what… in actual…"

The crow mimicked him, its voice a garbled echo of his own.

Its head tilted slightly, one gleaming eye filled with malice and starvation.

Then it cawed—harsh and wicked—spreading its wings.

But the moment its feet left the ground, its wings cracked like dry branches.

The crow fell, bones shattering under its own weight. It screamed, not like a bird, but like a baby gargling glass.

Its eye remained fixed on Klaus as it crawled toward him—but its soaring ambition was cut short by the vile sound of being eaten alive.

Its own kin descended upon it, their beaks digging savagely into its flesh, even as it continued its relentless march toward Klaus.

Klaus stood still, lips pressed thin.

His expression behind the helmet was thoughtful, and his eyes gleamed with a now resurfacing greed.

The food chain was dead.

Radiation had unwritten the rules.

It was clear that insects no longer existed in this land—along with all the creatures that had migrated away to escape the contamination.

All that remained was madness, hunger, and the wrongness of a place that had abandoned everything orderly and natural.

What it left behind was chaos—raw, orderless chaos.

And for some reason… Klaus was fascinated.

He didn't know why, but he felt at peace here. As if he were standing exactly where he was meant to be.

It wasn't like the wrong feeling he got among humans and cities.

It was strange.

In this twisted, disturbing place…

No—to him, this place was normal.

Even cozy.

Driver's signal buzzed faintly in his ear.

Time to move.

The half-eaten crow still twitched, mimicking his voice between spasms as its brothers tore it apart.

"W-what… in actua—"

Klaus gave him a wave, wearing a cheerful smile.

He felt happy…

He didn't even know why—but the more he messed with the laws, the more chaos he brought, the happier he felt.

And yet, that happiness made his human side hesitate.

All the guilt, shame, and regret screamed at him that it was wrong.

That he wasn't supposed to be happy.

That he deserved to suffer.

At those thoughts, his brief joy faded, swallowed by bleakness and indifference.

And then—he vanished.

As if he had never been there at all.

***

Hey guys!

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Your feedback really means a lot and helps me stay motivated. 💬✨

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Thanks so much for sticking with the story, and I hope you continue to enjoy what's coming next!

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