The sun peered through the sky, its golden light reflecting off the deep pools of blood that stained the broken streets. The city was as bleak and solemn as ever… the rift in the sky shifting lazily like a living cloud, casting its vast, unnatural shadow over parts of the crumbling metropolis. It was quite early in the morning—though apparently, not too early for a slaughter. The blood remained stagnant… thick, clotted, congealing amid the scattered corpses. These weren't human. They were scaled creatures, grotesque things with tusks jutting from twisted faces. Multiple eyes blinked erratically across their warped skulls, and they clutched crude, rotting weapons that smelled of decay and salt. These creatures, as Damon had come to learn, were called Ground Crawlers. They were once citizens of Lysithara—humans consumed by rot and corruption, their flesh twisted by the decay of the city until they became these shambling aquatic beasts. These particular ones had emerged from beneath the city, from the flooded ruins and sewer pools that crisscrossed the urban decay. They came in packs—always in packs. A shame for them, really… they weren't the only monsters lurking in this place. The group they had attacked were monstrous in their own right—monsters forged by suffering, not born of it. Damon's party didn't take kindly to such a rude awakening so early in the day. So, in return, they painted the streets red. Even outnumbered by foes of equal rank and size, they had carved through them without mercy. Not a single crawler was left breathing—not a single one was allowed to crawl away. Damon didn't see anything wrong with it. But from where Valarie rested on his shoulder—as a pair of lips—she couldn't help but notice the bloodlust. These teenagers had seen hell… and in that hell, they had become demons. Not in the literal sense—more figuratively. And even then… perhaps the real demons should be running from them. Not that Valarie had ever seen a demon herself. Back when she was alive, they didn't really exist yet. She had heard the visitors mention some of them were demons, but she'd never met any. Her world had been one of rot… and of time, cruel and slow and silent. She'd only come to learn of this current world from these children now trapped in this ruined ancient city. Caught in a nightmare that may never end. Damon sighed, raising his wrist—his academy-issued bracelet glowed faintly, displaying an obscene number of points accumulated from all the monsters they'd slain. The evaluation exam should have ended long ago… but here they were, still trapped in the death zone. He sighed again. At least the bracelet was still counting. He had lost an arm recently—thankfully not the one wearing the bracelet. That said, he did lose his omnidirectional gear. He would've left it, but Leona had gone looking for his arm… and brought it back, mangled as it was. Thanks to that, he was able to attach the gear to his new limb. A limb that came from Matia's sacrifice—her wings. He glanced at the wingless fairy, covered in shattered ice. The armor was of crystalline ice. Her hand was buried in the gut of a dead crawler. She pulled free its mana core with a calm, almost mechanical expression, then dropped it into her pouch. They would share the spoils later. Absorbing the cores would help refine their bodies… empower their souls. That said, they had taken in quite a lot. Their bodies were bursting with raw energy. They were nearing saturation. After all, a body could only hold so much power. "A job well done, my dear students…" came the voice of Valarie Sunwarden. And as much as Damon hated to remind himself, she was just a pair of lips on his shoulder. He'd only known her for a day, yet in that time, he'd come to respect her. He didn't know why. Maybe it was the charisma of an ascendant champion… or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was because Valarie Sunwarden understood pain. She understood misery. Even after everything she had endured in life—and the torment she now bore in death—she still managed to smile. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎 How could Damon not admire her? Her philosophy was like sunlight. Present. Warm. But the sun did not stay forever. It gave way to night… always. He hadn't forgotten what she told him. She didn't deny his bleak outlook on life—she acknowledged it. And in doing so, she promised that even in darkness, there could still be good things. "Life is a turbulent ocean with small islands of joy. Finding those islands is living…" For whatever reason, he couldn't forget those words. He couldn't help but compare them to the epitaph that had shaped his life—the complete opposite in tone and meaning. "You haven't taught us anything yet… and you call us your students?" Damon decided to retort. Valarie gasped dramatically—well, as much as a pair of lips could. She would have clutched her chest if she still had one. "How dare you…! I've taught you plenty. In one day, no less!" Sylvia sighed as she wiped blood from her armor. "You said you'd teach us runecraft. You didn't teach us anything…" The others nodded in agreement. Leona, though, seemed unconcerned. "I don't really care. I hate homework…" Damon sighed. She didn't understand the benefits, so he dumbed it down for her. "We're in an ancient ruin. So, you aren't home," he muttered, walking up to her and cupping her blood-soaked cheeks. "Learning runes means you get stronger. No rune means… not strong." Leona's eyes sparked with interest. Until she caught the condescending tone. He was treating her like a child. Then again, he often treated her that way—not that she minded all that much. "You didn't have to treat me like I'm brain dead, you know." Damon smiled, then turned his gaze to Evangeline. "How are our rations looking?" Her eye twitched, clear impatience in her expression. "I don't know—maybe you and Leona shouldn't have eaten them all?" Damon glanced at Leona, then coughed awkwardly. His eyes fell to the mutilated bodies of the Ground Crawlers. "…Why not eat them?" The others all winced. The reason was obvious. These things… used to be people.