Merging with the river of refugees on the highway was a descent into controlled chaos. The sheer press of humanity, the smell of unwashed bodies, fear, and smoke, the constant low murmur punctuated by cries or shouted orders – it was overwhelming after the tense isolation of the ruined town. Progress was slow, a shuffling tide flowing south under the watchful eyes of soldiers on trucks and makeshift watchtowers.
After hours of trudging alongside their bicycles, they reached a slightly more organized section. Tents had been erected on the highway shoulders and median. Near an overpass, a semblance of order emerged: a registration desk manned by weary-looking young women in civilian clothes but with military armbands, volunteers ladling thin soup from large vats into bowls handed to refugees holding coupons, and a first-aid station buzzing with activity.
Haider's eyes locked onto a hand-painted wooden sign propped beside one of the larger tents: **RECRUITING.** He nudged Malik and Mahin. "Look."
They pushed their bikes through the throng towards the tent. Inside, a young woman with tired eyes but a professional demeanor sat behind a collapsible table, taking names and details. Haider stepped forward.
"We saw the sign. Recruiting for what?" he asked.
The woman looked them over, taking in their worn but functional clothes, the spears strapped to Haider's bike, the fire axe Malik carried, and Mahin's pale, watchful intensity. "The Armed Forces Auxiliary," she explained briskly. "We need able-bodied people to help secure supply lines, assist with camp defense, and undertake specific missions. Think of it as… contracted militia work. Mercenary, if you prefer the term." She leaned forward slightly. "Registered members get preferential treatment – better rations, guaranteed shelter in the secure zones, medical priority. Especially," she added meaningfully, "if you're Awakened."
The brothers exchanged glances. Preferential treatment. Access to the military structure. A path to resources and safety far better than just being another refugee. "What qualifies as Awakened?" Haider asked carefully.
"Demonstrable abilities beyond normal human limits," the woman replied, her eyes sharpening. "Strength, speed, endurance leaps, or… other things." Her gaze flickered towards Mahin, perhaps sensing his residual chill.
A quick, hushed discussion ensued. Malik, lacking any obvious power, felt a pang of inadequacy but nodded fiercely. "I'll fight. I can learn." Haider and Mahin agreed. They needed this advantage.
They registered. Haider listed himself as possessing "Enhanced Physical Capabilities." Mahin, hesitantly, described "Cryokinesis – minor ice manipulation." The woman's attitude shifted instantly when Mahin confirmed his ability with a small, quickly melting frost pattern on the tabletop. Friendly professionalism became genuine warmth tinged with relief.
"Excellent," she said, making special notations. "Once you reach the main Chandpur Base, you'll be issued an assessment watch. The scientists developed them fast – they measure your energy output and give a basic profile of your abilities. Helps with placement and training." She gestured to a board behind her covered in handwritten notices. "In the meantime, we have immediate needs. Missions. Rewards scale with difficulty – extra rations, gear, even firearms eventually. If you take a hunting or retrieval mission, we can loan you basic weapons – spears, bats, machetes – but they must be returned."
Their eyes scanned the board. Food scavenging, perimeter patrols, clearing infested buildings... then Haider pointed: "Medicine Retrieval. Priority: Antibiotics, Painkillers, Antiseptics. High Reward: Double Rations + Weapon Voucher."
"The field hospital is overflowing," the woman confirmed grimly. "Infection is killing as many as the attacks. That mission is critical."
It was decided. They signed for the mission and were loaned two additional machetes (for Malik and Mahin) and a coil of sturdy rope. Leaving their bikes secured at the recruitment tent, they shouldered their packs and spears, heading back *into* the danger zone – towards the town's outskirts where pharmacies might still hold undiscovered supplies.
**The Pharmacy Raid:**
Haider's perception field was invaluable, allowing them to skirt larger shambling groups and sense lone jombies lurking in alleys. They reached a large, standalone pharmacy. The front was smashed, glass littering the pavement, shelves inside visibly ransacked. Disappointment threatened, but Haider scanned upwards. "The upper floors. Less accessible. Maybe untouched."
A fire escape led to a second-story window. Forcing it open revealed a storage area – dusty but intact! Boxes of bandages, sutures, and crucially, several sealed containers of broad-spectrum antibiotics and vials of morphine. They filled their packs quickly, the weight a comforting burden.
Spirits lifted, they spotted another, smaller pharmacy a block away. Approaching cautiously, Haider sensed movement inside – three distinct, slow, predatory energies. Jombies. Peering through the grimy window confirmed it: one behind the counter, two near the back shelves.
"Simple plan," Haider whispered. "Malik, you pull the door open hard, then get clear. Mahin, freeze the one behind the counter the second the door moves. I go in left, take the one near the cough syrup. Malik, you come in behind me, distract the one near the back. Mahin, support whoever needs it after the first shot. Fast and quiet."
Malik nodded, gripping his machete tightly. Mahin took a deep, steadying breath, focusing his energy. Malik yanked the door open with a jangle of the bell. Instantly, Mahin thrust his hand forward. A spike of ice shot through the doorway, striking the jombie behind the counter squarely in the forehead as it turned towards the noise. It dropped silently.
Haider was already moving, a blur through the door. His spear lanced out, piercing the temple of the jombie lurching towards the commotion near the front shelves. Malik charged in, yelling and banging his machete against a metal shelf, drawing the attention of the third jombie near the back. As it turned towards Malik, Haider pivoted and drove his spear through its spine from behind.
Silence, except for their heavy breathing. It had taken seconds. But the jangle of the bell, Malik's yell, and the thuds were enough. Moans answered from the street outside, growing closer.
"Grab what you can! Now!" Haider hissed. They frantically scooped boxes of painkillers, antiseptic wash, and any other useful-looking medications into their already laden packs. The moans were converging. "Out the back!"
They fled through a rear storeroom exit into an alley just as the first jombies stumbled into the front of the shop.
**The Hunter Becomes the Hunted (Briefly):**
Packs heavy with vital medicine, they moved quickly but cautiously through the backstreets, aiming to loop back towards the highway and the relative safety of the refugee column. Haider's perception field flared a warning a split second before a low, rumbling growl echoed from the mouth of an alley ahead.
Blocking their path was a dog. But unlike the decaying zombie hound, this creature radiated vitality and fierce intelligence. It stood a massive four meters tall, its fur a sleek, healthy mix of grey and black, muscles rippling beneath its skin. Its eyes, intelligent and predatory, locked onto them. It wasn't shambling; it was *stalking*. A **Mutant Beast**.
It snarled, lips peeling back from teeth like ivory daggers, and took a deliberate step forward, head lowered. The intelligence in its gaze was chilling.
"Spread out!" Haider commanded, raising his spear. Malik moved left, machete ready. Mahin took the right, hands already shimmering with cold vapor. The beast watched their movement, calculating.
It lunged, not at Malik or Mahin, but straight for Haider in the center, a powerful leap aiming to take him down. "Mahin!" Haider yelled, bracing.
An ice spear, thicker and sharper than before, materialized and shot towards the beast's flank. With astonishing agility, the massive dog twisted mid-air, the spear grazing its shoulder instead of striking deep. Haider used the distraction, thrusting his spear upwards as the beast landed. The point scraped along the tough hide of its chest, drawing a thin line of blood but failing to penetrate deeply.
The beast snarled in pain and fury, rounding on Haider. It charged again, a terrifyingly fast blur. Malik stepped in bravely, swinging the machete in a wide arc. He didn't aim to hit, but to distract, forcing the beast to swerve. It worked – the beast snapped at Malik, missing by inches, giving Haider another opening. He thrust again, this time sinking the spear point a few inches into the beast's muscular shoulder.
Simultaneously, Mahin, pale but determined, launched another ice spear. This one struck true, plunging deep into the beast's hindquarter. A pained yelp split the air, and its movement instantly became labored, the injured leg faltering.
*Now!* Haider saw the opening. He channeled every ounce of his enhanced strength, speed, and the lingering power of countless orbs. He didn't just thrust; he *drove* forward, putting his entire body behind the spear. The iron point, hardened and sharpened by his own hand, punched through the thick hide, between ribs, and deep into the beast's chest cavity, seeking its heart.
The massive mutant stiffened, a gurgling sound replacing its snarl. It took one stumbling step, its intelligent eyes dimming, then collapsed heavily onto the pavement, shaking the ground. Dead.
**The Breakthrough and the Stench of Progress:**
As silence returned, broken only by their ragged gasps and distant moans, Haider saw it. Not a colored orb, but another large, pure **white sphere**, larger than the one from the zombie hound, coalescing above the slain beast. It pulsed with intense, vibrant energy.
He approached, drawn to its power. As he neared, the orb dissolved into a stream of brilliant light, flowing into him without contact. The effect was immediate and profound. A wave of pure, cleansing energy washed through him, more potent than anything before. The bruises from the mutant's near-misses vanished. The lingering ache in his muscles from the long journey evaporated. He felt invigorated, revitalized, his body humming with power.
But then, deeper, a distinct *crack* resonated within him, not painful, but profound – like ice breaking on a pond or a dam giving way. The Spirit Energy flowing through his meridians, previously feeling like a strong current, suddenly smoothed, becoming a powerful, effortless river. His senses sharpened further; he could hear Malik's heartbeat, smell the iron tang of the beast's blood over the city's decay, feel the minute vibrations in the ground from distant movements.
Simultaneously, a foul stench assaulted his nostrils. He looked down to see a thin, dark, greasy substance seeping from his pores, coating his skin and clothes. It smelled like rotten eggs and stagnant water – the **impurities** purged from his body as his vessel refined itself to accommodate the denser Spirit Energy. He had broken through another barrier, ascending further on the path of Body Tempering. He felt stronger, faster, cleaner internally, even as he was externally coated in filth.
"Haider Bhai? You... you glowed for a second," Malik said, awe and concern warring in his voice. Mahin just stared, sensing the surge of cold energy radiating from Haider despite the heat of the fight.
Haider looked at the massive carcass, then at his filthy hands, then at the distant plumes of smoke marking the refugee highway. "We need to move," he said, his voice steady and resonant with newfound power. "But first... we take this." He gestured to the mutant beast. "Meat. Hide, maybe. And I desperately need a shower before we walk back into that crowd." He managed a grim smile. "There's a broken water main back near that pharmacy alley. We wash, we butcher what we can carry, *then* we deliver the medicine." The mission was complete, but the journey – and his own evolution – had taken a significant leap forward. The stench of progress clung to him, but the power thrumming within was undeniable.