Allies Or Enemies?

Dylan had always trusted his instincts, his skills honed through countless battles against the darkest corners of the underworld. But this time, he let his pride lead the way. He thought the four survivors of the Red Valley were just remnants of a forgotten horror, damaged and deranged, easy prey. But the truth hit him harder than any blade or bullet could—they were leagues above anything he'd ever faced.

They weren't rookies, not by a long shot. These four—Lilith, Tenshin, Necros, and Zephyr—were cunning, brutal, and operated like a pack of predators. There was no hesitation in their movements, no waste in their violence. Dylan barely had a moment to register what was happening before the first strike came. It was as if time warped around them, their speed and precision overwhelming every defense he had. He didn't even get a second to blink. And in that fleeting moment of hesitation, he was outclassed.

They weren't here for theatrics or intimidation. There was no speech, no monologue, no warning. Their presence alone was like a storm rolling in—inevitable, destructive, merciless. Dylan found himself wounded, breathless, and retreating, not out of cowardice, but survival. He realized quickly: this wasn't a fight. It was a statement.

The Red Valley was only the beginning. Chaos had stirred from its slumber, and Dylan had unknowingly stepped into its den. The deeper he goes, the more twisted and ancient the forces become. These four were not the peak—they were merely the heralds of something much darker. Dylan's journey was far from over. His enemies no longer played by rules. They were born of madness, fed by blood, and shaped by a world beyond mortal understanding. And now, they had noticed him.

Dylan opened his eyes, and all he saw was an infinite void—black space that pulsed like a heartbeat. The silence was deafening. A single thought scraped through his dazed mind like a whisper in a tomb: Did I die? This fast? His voice cracked softly through the darkness, "Where am I... heaven or hell?"

Before he could answer himself, a sharp jolt of pain clawed through his skull, and his vision was ripped from the void into a sudden, brutal reality. His eyes snapped open again, this time to the sight of twisted branches and charred earth beneath him. Above him loomed a gnarled skeleton tree—bark blackened like burnt flesh, its limbs hung with cracked skulls, swaying gently like wind chimes of death.

Dylan was tied—thick, rusted metal string wire coiled around his wrists and ankles, biting into skin. The weight of it made breathing harder. Panic surged through him.

"What the fuck is happening?! Didn't I just die? And why the hell am I tied up?" he shouted, struggling in vain.

From behind the tree, a figure emerged. A man in a long, white coat that brushed the ground, his white hair fluttering in the windless air. His presence was eerily calm, his eyes hollow yet piercing. Zephyr.

He approached slowly, his boots cracking old bones beneath each step.

"Good morning," Zephyr said with a cruel smile. "How was your sleep, Dylan?"

Dylan sneered. "Sleep or nightmare? Wait, didn't you guys kill me? Why am I tied up?"

Before Zephyr could respond, a familiar figure stepped forward—Lilith, with her red leather jacket and sawed-off shotgun resting against her shoulder like a casual accessory. Her gaze burned.

"Silence," she hissed. "Or I'll blow your skull clean off. We'll hang it from the tree like the others."

Dylan narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean… like the others?"

Lilith gave a twisted smirk, gesturing upward. "Yes, you guessed it right. These skulls on the tree? All our dead companions. Some we ate. Some we loved. All are part of us now."

For a moment, Dylan just stared. Then he chuckled. "So… are you guys cannibals? Just like me?"

A long silence. Then—laughter. Loud, unhinged laughter from all around him. Zephyr chuckled darkly. Necros threw his head back and cackled. Even Lilith let out a full-throated laugh. Only Tenshin remained still, his gaze locked on Dylan's with a serene but eerie smile.

Zephyr finally calmed and turned to Necros. "Did you hear that? Oh gods, Necros, this can't be coincidence."

"Feels like fate," Necros replied with a grin full of teeth too sharp to be human.

Zephyr stepped closer to Dylan, crouching just enough to meet his eyes. "You see, Dylan, if we wanted you dead, you'd already be screaming in hell. We kept you alive… because we need you. And you need us."

Dylan scoffed. "Need you? What—for a game of basketball?"

Lilith burst out laughing again. "This guy's a riot!"

Zephyr smiled thinly. "Seems like it. We'll get along well."

He stood back up and nodded toward the wire bindings. With a small flick of his fingers, they uncoiled like serpents and slithered away into the dirt.

Zephyr offered a hand. "You want out of this hell, don't you?"

Dylan massaged his raw wrists. "Of course I do. This place stinks worse than a corpse pit."

"Good," Zephyr said. "Come. Let's talk. You must be starving—we prepared a little feast while you were unconscious."

Dylan raised a brow. "Feast? Of what? Some poor animal?"

Zephyr grinned. "Not an animal. A man. You know the truth, Dylan. Humans taste better."

Lilith winked. "And yes, we roasted some dragon too. Needed a little exotic touch."

Dylan froze. "Dragon?"

Zephyr tilted his head. "Yes. You want to see him?"

They led him a few yards beyond the skeleton tree, to a clearing marked by scorched earth and a fire pit. And there it lay—half-charred, half-skinned, its wings folded like torn curtains, its silver scales blackened with ash. But Dylan recognized the eye, even if it was glazed over in death.

Vael Zarok.

His heart dropped. His mind went white. No… this can't be.

His voice was no more than a whisper. "What the fucking hell…"

Zephyr watched him carefully. "You know him, don't you?"

Dylan didn't answer. His thoughts spun wildly. Vael Zarok… the dragon who guided me through the Obsidian Marsh. The one Melissa trusted. How did they…

"Tell me something," Dylan said, slowly turning toward them. "How did you kill him?"

Necros cracked his neck and stepped forward wearing his white mask. "He fought like a god… but bled like any beast."

Tenshi finally spoke, voice smooth and poetic. "Everything dies, Dylan. Even legends. Even gods. We're just honest about eating them."

Lilith tossed him a roasted strip of flesh. "Hungry?"

Dylan caught it without thinking. The smell was sweet and metallic. His instincts warred with his thoughts. Hunger gnawed at him—but guilt crawled in behind it.

Zephyr leaned closer. "You belong here more than you think. The world you knew is gone. Everything ahead? Worse. You'll need us… and you'll need to be like us."

Dylan stared into the fire, the taste of charred dragon still on his tongue.

The Red Valley was only the beginning.