Chapter 12: Each Separate Path
About two years ago, Jake was an active military member. He was a sharpshooter, trained in hand-to-hand combat and a soldier who had seen rough things ordinary civilians didn't dare to dream about. A man who's not a stranger to danger or death. He knew how to navigate the battlefield, fight efficiently, and survive when everything else was falling apart.
But despite all of this, there came a day when Jake… decided he couldn't do it anymore. No grand epiphany. No dramatic moment of conscience. He just walked away. The war, the orders, the endless cycle of violence—it all lost its meaning to him. He couldn't keep being a cog in the machine. He couldn't keep fighting for reasons he no longer believed in.
So, he quit. He left behind the army, his comrades, and the only life he had known for years. He wanted something different. Something more peaceful.
But just when he thought he could go on with life in easier mode, something major happened. Something that can only happen in movies. Something no one expected. Something no one was able to contain.
It began like a virus, a relentless pandemic that swept across the globe, unraveling the fabric of a once-comfortable world. Cities that had once thrived with life became shadowed warzones, where the living fought desperately against the inevitable tide of the dead.
On that fateful night, the world awoke from its long slumber. Across towns and cities, in forgotten alleys and empty streets, the departed stirred. They rose from the silence of the grave, their hollow eyes glinting with a hunger that could never be satisfied. Chaos erupted, as realization hit them, the world had turned into a nightmare.
This was no ordinary disaster.
It was the beginning of a zombie apocalypse.
…
"Stay down. Move to the back," Jake ordered, his voice low making sure that the dead won't hear him. The group of unknowing survivors, unsure of what to do, followed his instruction.
"Please… help us," a woman pleaded, her voice trembling as she clutched the baby to her chest. "We don't know where to go. It's chaos out there—"
"I know," Jake cut her off, his finger darted to his lipped, signalling them to lower their voice. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. "Listen to me. We don't have much time. We need to move, and we need to move quietly."
His military instincts kicked in. He could see the shadows of the undead moving outside, drawn to any sound. Jake motioned for the group to follow him. They'd have to move quickly, but they couldn't afford to make a sound. The dead weren't just mindless—they were relentless, attracted to even the slightest noise.
"Stay close. Don't talk. Follow my lead, and don't look back," Jake instructed as he carefully led them out to the back door leading into an alley behind the store.
But a stray undead found its way to the group. Its sudden appearance startled everyone, and Jake as well. Even so, he managed to pick up on the situation quickly and tried to combat the creature.
Its disfigured face was bloodied, its skin almost peeled away. Its teeth snapped, trying to reach for Jake's neck as he fought for his life.
Jake was strong—six foot two guy, his body chiseled from his days in the military. While he had stopped being a soldier, he never stopped training his body. And yet, the smaller undead showed far more strength than it should have for its size.
The two toppled to the floor, knocking over the displayed merchandises, creating a loud noise.
"Move, just run and don't look back," Jake yelled knowing the dire situation they were put into. He can hear the many rushing footsteps coming closer and closer.
"but…"
"If you don't want to die, run as fast as you can."
"right…"
Jake managed to grab a can of sardines, slamming its corner into the zombie's head with all his strength. He kept bashing until the creature stopped moving.
But there was no time to catch his breath. The horde of undead was closing in on his position.
He quickly rose to his feet, his eyes scanning for an escape route. The zombies were already running toward him, drawn by the noise.
"HEY!" he yelled, further drawing their attention away from the group. The sound echoed through the store, and the undead turned in a blur of motion, flooding toward him.
Without a second thought, Jake dashed toward the side of the store, aiming to slip through the broken glass and into the street, hoping for any kind of cover he could find.
…
That was months ago, the first day the world changed, a memory Jake could still recall clearly.
Now, with a group of survivors, barely scraping by each day. They had decided to add much-needed firearms to their arsenal. They had run out of options, and the threat of the undead loomed larger with each passing day. They needed to be ready.
"Jackpot!" Jake exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he reached for the pistol, inspecting its condition. "Looks like it's in good shape."
"This could change everything," Kazumi, a 17-year-old high school student, said, her mind racing with possibilities.
"Let's grab it and move," Akane, another high school student, urged, glancing anxiously toward the door. "We don't want to attract any more attention."
But fate had other plans. In that instant, a car crashed outside, shattering the silence. The group exchanged worried glances. The noise would attract unwanted attention.
"Shit!" Taro cursed, understanding their current predicament.
"Akane! Kazumi! Pack as many bullets as you can!" Jake yelled. "Taro, let's see if we can find anything else." He calmly ordered the trio of high school students he had grouped with. They were still young but clever enough to survive on their own even before meeting him.
The two girls hastily gathered ammunition, while the guys checked for more weapons.
As Jake had hoped, he found a literal canon in the size of a handgun, a magnum .357 revolver, along with a few rounds of ammunition. He tucked it into his side, saving it for when they needed it most.
Soon, the first of the undead arrived, prompting the group to move out. They were grotesque, shambling creatures with vacant eyes and grasping hands.
"Time to go!" Taro shouted as the group made a frantic dash for the door.
Jake and Taro led the way, metal bats in hand, with Akane and Kazumi right behind them, the 9mm gun clutched tightly between the girl's hands. They made their escape as quickly as they could, but the streets were already swarming with the undead.
Realizing the danger, they decided to head toward a nearby forested area, hoping the trees would provide cover.
However, the panic had already set in. As clever as they were, they were still kids—navigating a world they had never been prepared for.
As they entered the forest, a sudden wall of fog enveloped the area. The dense mist separated them from each other, and the group was unknowingly split apart.
"Taro…" Jake called, but no one answered. He turned, only to realize that no one was following him. "Shit..."
In the distance, he could hear footsteps—louder and louder as they approached. His eyes scanned the fog, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.
"Hero..." a voice called out, though the words were barely audible through the mist. He couldn't understand what had been said, but the word "hero" seemed to hang in the air, sticking with him like an echo.
And then, as the fog began to clear, something remarkable appeared before him.
…
"KEEP PUSHING!"
The cries of the raging battle consumed the surroundings.
"Archers, ready your bows… Fire!"Arrows shot across the sky in a relentless rain.
From the distance, Jake could hear someone yelling, "Mages, raise the barrier… NOW!"
Suddenly, arrows from the opposite side collided with a transparent barrier—the magic barrier shimmering as the projectiles struck. The arrows plunked harmlessly to the ground as if stopped by an invisible force.
Jake squinted, watching the field of battle unfold before him. The enemy forces were relentless, but the mages' barrier held for now.
Meanwhile, the rushing men, in full plate armor met in the middle of the battlefield. The clash of metal, the roar of warriors, and the unrelenting volley of arrows created a symphony of chaos that filled the air.
"Where in the world am I?" This thought echoed in Jake's mind. Throughout his days as a soldier, he had never seen anything like this. It felt as though the battle were taking place in the Middle Ages with a hint of otherworldly magic.
Disoriented, he swiftly assessed the battlefield. He tried to get away as fast as possible. However, before he can do so, one soldier rushes to his position thinking that Jake was from the enemy side.
"For the Empire!!! DIE!!!" the soldier yells as he rushes forth. Sword in hand. Jake doesn't know whether he's hallucinating or not, but the sword the soldier is holding seems like it's glowing.
"Wait, listen. I'm not an enemy." Jake shouted in response.
Everything transpired in mere seconds, leaving Jake bewildered. A soldier closed in, swinging his sword. Jake was certain the distance was too great for a short sword to reach him, yet he stared in horror at a severed hand lying on the ground. But it wasn't the soldier's hand, nor anyone else's he recognized. A sickening realization that he was not ready to accept, the hand was his own.
Blood spurted from the severed arm, a ghastly fountain of crimson that seemed to pulsate with Jake's racing heart. Initially, shock numbed his senses, but soon the agony struck, a searing fire that coursed through his veins. He cried out, a primal scream that mingled anger and excruciating pain. As the reality of his situation dawned on him, Jake's instincts took over. With a quick draw, he unleashed a hail of bullets, firing wildly at the soldier who had maimed him.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The familiar recoil and deafening roar of his gun yielded the expected result. The soldier, poised to strike again, now lay motionless on the ground.
Jake's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the shock of his severed arm still sinking in. With a grimace, he ripped his shirt to create a makeshift tourniquet, desperate to stop the bleeding. However, the gunfire had alerted the other soldiers. Footsteps pounded the earth, growing louder with each passing moment.
Jake's gaze darted toward the approaching enemy, his mind racing. Four soldiers charged toward him, swords drawn. Jake raised his gun, his hand shaking slightly. He aimed, his finger tightening on the trigger.
BANG! BANG! CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!
Two soldiers fell, but Jake's gun clicked empty. Panic set in as he frantically reloaded, his fingers stumbling over the ammunition. Added the fact that he had just lost one of his arms, making reloading a lot more difficult, especially in such a stressful situation. Using his armpit, he managed to reload just in time before the two soldiers could attack him.
BANG! BANG!
With deadly precision, Jake's bullets struck true, ripping through the soldier's armor like paper. The ancient metal offered little resistance to the modern fury of gunfire.
But his victory was short-lived.
As he turned to flee, an arrow pierced his back, its razor-sharp tip bursting from his chest in a crimson explosion. Jake's eyes widened in agony, his vision unraveling like a tapestry of despair. He stumbled forward, legs buckling beneath him.
The soldiers closed in, their swords raised for the killing blow. Jake raised his hand firing the gun in his hand.
BANG!
Another soldier fell, but the swarm of enemies was relentless. Enraged by their fallen comrades, they took turns stabbing and hacking at Jake.
Desperation clawed at his soul as the darkness gathered, a shroud of eternal night. His thoughts raced with the cruel fate that had befallen him.
"No... not like this..." Jake's whispered plea was lost amidst the soldiers' battle cries.
As the shadows consumed him, Jake wondered if this was indeed the end – his final, futile stand against an unyielding world. The soldiers erupted into triumphant cheers as they felled Jake.
A soldier approached cautiously, eyeing the mysterious weapon Jake had dropped. He picked up the gun, examining it with a mix of fascination and fear. "What sorcery is this?" he muttered, turning the gun over in his hands.
…
"What sorcery is this?" Lyraea asked, tracing the mysterious weapon with her fingers.
The soldier, unsure of how to respond, said, "We found it on an enemy we encountered at Fort Kusagono, Your Highness."
Lyraea, the crown princess of the powerful Ashvel Empire, had assumed leadership of the empire after the emperor fell ill. Her curiosity deepened as she turned the weapon in her hands, studying its mechanisms.
"And?" she wondered aloud.
"It's a magic weapon that shoots a metallic object at the enemy," the soldier replied.
Lyraea examined the weapon more closely, noting its simple design. "So, just a mere bow in a different shape," she said, unimpressed.
"Your Highness, it easily penetrated our armor like it was nothing," the soldier added with a note of reverence. "Its power is beyond any crossbow, and the sound it makes would strike fear into even the bravest of men. Truly, it is a terrifying weapon."
"Ho... is that so? Interesting," Lyraea mused, her interest piqued by the soldier's praise. She then turned to her maid, Elara. "Do you know how it works?"
Elara, trembling beside her, stammered, "I-I don't know, Your Highness."
Lyraea's eyes sparkled with an idea. "Then let's test it."
She aimed the weapon at Elara, who recoiled in fear.
"P-please, Your Highness!" Elara cried out, but it was too late.
Lyraea smiled, her expression cold. "Don't worry, I'll merely... test it."
With a deep breath, Lyraea pulled the trigger.
A deafening bang split the air, and Elara's scream echoed as the bullet tore through her right ear
Lyraea's laughter filled the room, manic and thrilled. "Marvelous! Summon the finest smith! I want to understand its secrets!"
Without a second glance, she walked away, leaving the room in stunned silence.
A medic rushed in immediately, using healing magic to close Elara's wound.
Later that night, Lyraea summoned Elara to her chambers.
"Despite the damage, you're still beautiful," Lyraea said, her fingers tracing Elara's torn ear. "You don't think I'm unaware of what's happening, do you?"
Elara trembled as Lyraea's hands wandered across her face, a cold shiver running down her spine.
…
From a distant part of the world, Taro stumbled through the dense, shadowed forest, his breath ragged as he was pursued by unseen terrors lurking in the dark. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, made his heart race faster, but he dared not stop. The creatures hunting him were relentless, and his only chance of survival lay in the unknown path ahead.
On the other hand, Akane found herself in a bustling market, the noise and color overwhelming her senses. Strange creatures—humans and non-humans alike—moved around her, some bartering, others shouting, and a few eyeing her curiously. She felt out of place, unsure of her surroundings, but there was no time to waste. She needed food, supplies, and perhaps... answers. The chaos of the marketplace was both a blessing and a curse.
Their journeys had just begun, each struggling to survive in a world that seemed determined to swallow them whole. One ran from the shadows, while the other stood lost in the light, but both faced the same harsh reality: they were no longer in control of their fate. The world itself had changed—and they would have to adapt or be consumed by it.
…
Meanwhile, at the heart of the sea of trees... Feywood.
"Rora! It's running for the cliff!" Kazumi shouted as they ran after the horned wolf they were targeting. "We have to corner it before it reaches the edge. You go ahead!"
"Yes, understood, big sis." she responded.
Rora, a member of the Panther Tribe and a beast-woman, harnessed her superior physical strength and trait magic, running at full speed to catch up with the horned wolf. A snake-like current of electricity wrapped around her figure, doubling her speed.
In a blur, she passed the horned wolf, forcing it to stop and square off with her. Meanwhile, Kazumi, still lagging, finally caught up to the two.
Sensing Rora's superior strength, the wolf shifted its focus to Kazumi, its body tensing as it prepared to pounce. The two locked eyes, each waiting for the moment to strike.
With a burst of power, the wolf lunged toward Kazumi.
"BIG SIS!" Rora screamed, rushing forward to intercept, but she was a second too late. The wolf's fang sank into Kazumi's hand, tearing it clean through—just as the wolf had expected. Or it should have been.
But Kazumi was no longer the same.
The same time the horned wolf, pounced on her, Kazumi yelled,
"Quick Step!"
In the blink of an eye, her figure blurred her movement faster than the eye could follow.
Over the past month, she had discovered something. Something within her had changed. She was no ordinary high school girl anymore.
"Not today, you brute!" a call out to her encounter against the orc.
BANG! BANG!
The familiar sound of gunshots rang out, echoing through the forest, once again.
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