The ruined streets of the city stretched out like veins choked with ash and silence. Windows hung shattered from buildings, and overturned cars rusted where they had been abandoned during the eruption. The streets were not empty, though — they were crawling. Shadows lurked in alleys, and the distant, uneven rhythm of corrupted footsteps echoed ahead of them.
Chris strode at the front, shoulders squared and grin wide. Every swing of his greatsword — a massive slab of metal barely resembling a blade — carved through the infected like he was chopping firewood. He kicked a toppled mailbox into a shambling Honkai beast, splattering it against a wall. "That's six! No—seven! You keeping up, Yuzu?"
Yuzu darted past him, sliding beneath the sweeping claws of another beast. His katana flashed in a blur of steel, stabbing three times in a heartbeat before he was already gone, moving too fast for the monster to retaliate. He flicked crimson drops from the blade, panting. "Eleven, if you're actually counting properly."
"Eleven?" Chris barked, smashing down another infected with a stomp that cracked the street beneath him. "Hah! Kid, you probably double-counted the ones I already softened up!"
While the two bickered, Viktor didn't respond. He moved through the carnage like water through cracks in stone — silent, efficient, untouchable. His daggers whispered through the air, opening throats and slicing tendons before the creatures even realized he was there. He wasted no strength on unnecessary movements; one enemy, one strike. A clean rhythm of violence.
It wasn't long before their little competition faltered. Chris turned to throw another jab at Yuzu, only to realize he'd shifted his footing exactly where Viktor had pointed. "Chris, left flank. Yuzu, two at your rear."
Neither questioned it. They simply obeyed.
Chris swung his greatsword to the left, just as two corrupted citizens burst from a collapsed doorway. His strike cleaved through both. Yuzu spun at the command, Katana stabbing backward into the chest of a lunging zombie that had crept up behind him.
And so it continued.
Viktor rarely spoke, but when he did, they listened without hesitation. "High ground, second story. Chris, break the support beam." The man ripped it free with a grunt, collapsing a balcony onto a cluster of infected. "Yuzu, sweep the stragglers. I'll clear the nest."
They fell into his rhythm, their fighting styles forming a brutal harmony:
Yuzu was a blur, a dancer weaving between corpses. He darted across walls, sprinted up debris, and cut down enemies with precision born from fear turned discipline. His strikes were fast, piercing, like lightning flashing across the battlefield.
Chris was a storm. Every blow shook the ground, every swing left devastation. He laughed even as blood spattered across his skin, taunting the Honkai to come at him harder. He wasn't subtle, wasn't careful — but his sheer strength carved open the space the others needed.
And Viktor… Viktor was the quiet hand that shaped the flow. He struck only where needed, filled gaps in their defense, and culled threats before they grew dangerous. His style was neither flashy like Yuzu's nor loud like Chris's, but it was the most effective. A dagger through the heart, a throat slit before a cry could leave it, a beast hamstrung before it could leap.
At one point, Chris stopped mid-step, panting hard, and blinked. "Wait… why are we listening to him?"
Yuzu sliced another skull with his blade, shrugged, and grinned. "Because it works."
Viktor didn't acknowledge the comment. His eyes were already on the next street corner. He crouched low, tracing a line in the dirt with his blade. "This way. There's less resistance through the market district."
Chris and Yuzu exchanged a glance, both realizing at the same time that they'd stopped thinking of him as just another member of the squad. He was leading them — not by demand, not by force — but simply because he moved as if he always had.
Chris rested his greatsword on his shoulder and laughed. "Fine by me, Visage. But don't think I'm letting you win the kill count."
Viktor sheathed one dagger, tightening his grip on the other. His expression didn't change, but his tone was cold and steady. "We aren't here to count kills. We're here to save who's left."
The reminder silenced Chris, even if only for a moment. Yuzu, catching his breath, nodded faintly.
The three pressed on, pushing deeper into the ruined city. The further they went, the thicker the air felt, as if the Honkai itself was watching, waiting. And still, without realizing, both Chris and Yuzu fell in step behind Viktor.
They had carved through another street when silence fell, leaving only the crackle of distant fires and the drip of black ichor soaking the ruins. For the first time since their boots hit the ground, the three of them stopped moving.
Yuzu leaned hard against the broken frame of a door, his katana trembling in his hands. His chest rose and fell in frantic bursts. Sweat plastered his bangs to his forehead as he bent forward, hands on his knees, gasping. "Oh gods… I think I'm gonna throw up."
Chris dropped his sword against a toppled lamppost, stretching his arms like he'd just finished a warm-up rather than a battle. He chuckled, the sound booming across the ruined street. "Ew, man. Seriously? What happened to all that bravado from earlier, huh? Mister 'I'll handle the rear,' Mister 'I'm faster than both of you.'" He grinned and nudged Yuzu's shoulder with his elbow.
Yuzu groaned, eyes squeezed shut as he swallowed hard. His voice cracked, muttering, "I had to… focus not to die, alright? If I didn't move like that I'd be a corpse right now." His knuckles were white where they clutched his knees. The confidence that had burned in his movements during the fight now withered into raw, trembling exhaustion.
Chris tilted his head back and laughed, hands on his hips. "Hah! Fair enough, kid. You're alive, that's what counts. Just… don't puke on my boots, yeah?"
The banter hung in the air for a moment before both of them realized Viktor hadn't said anything.
He stood a few paces away, blades still slick with blood, eyes darting around the wreckage. He was scanning rooftops, alleys, shadows — but it wasn't caution that furrowed his brow. It was something else.
The air, the smell of ash and rot, the sound of Yuzu's ragged breathing, even Chris's booming laugh… it pressed down on him with a strange weight. It all felt too real. He knew it wasn't, this was a simulation, yet the details sank claws into his chest as if he had lived it once before.
And then, without thinking, his mouth moved on its own.
"You did well, Yuzu. Dedication like that keeps you alive."
Both Yuzu and Chris blinked at him.
Viktor kept talking, though his tone was quieter, almost like an echo from a place deep in memory. "And you, Chris… your power really shapes the battlefield. It's… impressive."
He stopped. The words had slipped out naturally, almost too naturally. A small chuckle escaped his lips, but his eyebrows furrowed immediately after, wrinkling in confusion. Why had he said that? When had he ever said that?
The phantom of familiarity tugged at him like a hand in the dark. For a moment, he could almost hear voices layered over their own — Chris laughing louder, Yuzu's nervous breathing, himself speaking with that same calm assurance. But it faded just as quickly as it came.
Viktor exhaled through his nose and shook his head, shutting the thoughts out. This wasn't the time to unravel whatever phantom chased him.
"Rest's over," he said curtly, sheathing one dagger and cleaning the other against his coat. "We move to the next site. Survivors won't wait for us."
Chris grinned and hefted his greatsword onto his shoulder. "Back to it, huh? You heard the man, kid. Come on before the big guy racks up more points."
Yuzu groaned again but forced himself upright, swallowing down the bile that still clawed at his throat. He nodded, trying to steel his trembling hands.