Isara bit her lip, her icy blue eyes fixed on Darian. He was unusually quiet, his grip on his axe tighter than normal. She had fought alongside him enough times to know when something was off, and the word he said kept ringing in her head.
Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Darian," she whispered, her tone cautious, "what exactly is a Starved Null?"
Darian slowed to a halt, his back rigid. His jaw clenched, and for a moment it seemed like he wasn't going to answer. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned to her.
"They're not like the ones we've been killing," he said, his voice low, as though speaking the words made them heavier. "A Starved Null is what happens when one of those things… eats enough of us. They change. They grow smarter. Stronger. They can command the others, like a general leading soldiers. And worse, they learn to use weapons."
Isara's heart sank. She had never even imagined Nulls evolving into something like that. "So, it's not just brute force anymore," she murmured. "We'll be fighting something that knows how to fight back."
Darian nodded grimly. "Exactly. They're predators built to hunt us more efficiently. The system made it one of my class trials for a reason."
Her eyes widened at that. "Wait… that's part of your—" She stopped, shaking her head. It wasn't the time to dig deeper. All she knew was that this was bad after all; she was also trying to complete her class trials, but it was proving difficult.
The fact that killing a Starved Null was one of his tasks definitely showed how strong the Starved Null was, because class-up trials were never easy.
Her gaze flicked to the group trailing behind them. A dozen survivors, tired, dirty, eyes wide with fear. Among them was a young boy clutching his bandaged arm, limping as he was half-carried by a guard. The kid's shallow breathing made her stomach twist.
This wasn't just about completing trials. This was life and death.
Isara's mind whirled. We can't fight something like that while protecting them. If the Starved Null shows up, it'll be a massacre.
She made her decision.
"Shadow Guards," she called sharply. Her tone carried the authority of someone who had survived too many life-and-death battles to be ignored. "Take the survivors back to the bus. Secure them. Keep watch."
One of the guards hesitated. "Vice-Commander, what about..."
"I'll continue with Darian," she cut in. "We'll scout ahead. Move now."
The men exchanged glances but obeyed without further question. They shepherded the frightened survivors back through the ruined streets, weapons raised, ready for an ambush.
And just like that, the burden of the expedition fell on just the two of them.
They pressed deeper into the district, silence broken only by the crunch of boots and the occasional distant shriek of a Null. The streets here were darker, shadows clinging to the corners as if alive.
But despite the danger, Darian's chest burned with something unexpected — hope.
Every survivor they pulled from the ruins, every face they saved, rekindled a fragile fire in him. 'If others survived… then maybe… maybe she did too.'
He could still see his mother's smile in his mind, hear her voice calling him stubborn, hear her humming in the kitchen. He held onto it like a lifeline, refusing to let it go.
"She's alive," he whispered to himself. "She has to be."
Isara caught the words but stayed silent. She knew that kind of hope was dangerous... it could save a man, but it could also destroy him.
They turned a corner, and Darian froze.
His heart lurched violently in his chest as his eyes locked onto a familiar silhouette rising above the ruined skyline. The cracked walls, the rusted gates, the crumbling windows — he knew this place.
A rundown high school. His high school.
The blood drained from his face.
"This…" His voice was hoarse, almost broken. "This is it. This is where I went to school. And where my mom… she taught here."
Isara's eyes softened, but she said nothing. She simply rested her hand on his shoulder, grounding him.
Darian inhaled sharply, forcing the storm inside him to settle. "Let's go."
They pushed open the rusted gates. The air inside was stale, heavy with the stench of rot. The faint echo of footsteps — not theirs — scraped across the cracked tiles.
And then they saw them.
Nulls.
Dozens of them.
But these were different — their forms twisted, yet still clad in the torn, bloodied remnants of school uniforms. The sight made Darian's stomach churn violently.
Classmates. Teachers. Students.
All gone.
And now, monsters.
Battle in the Halls
The Nulls hissed and surged toward them.
Darian roared, Taurus's will surging through his veins. "Come on!"
[Bullish Charge]
He became a blur of motion, his axe swinging in a brutal arc. Bones cracked and shattered under the force, Nulls flying back like ragdolls before bursting into golden light particles, leaving behind a few orange and red orbs.
Isara stepped forward, her hands glowing with cold light. The runic circles spun into existence beneath her palms.
[Ice Lance]
A spear of glittering frost burst forth, impaling a Null clean through. She twisted her wrist, and the spear shattered, shards exploding into nearby enemies.
[Icicles]
The hallway was filled with a rain of sharp ice, piercing skulls and limbs.
[Ice Blast]
A wave of frigid energy surged out, freezing the ground and locking several Nulls in place.
The duo carved their way through the hallways, a storm of steel and ice. Every blow Darian struck was backed by the burning mayhem inside him, and every spell Isara cast painted the corridors with frost.
Still, the Nulls were endless. Room after room, stairwell after stairwell, the school was infested.
But they didn't stop. They couldn't. Survivors were found huddled in corners, trembling under desks, hiding in classrooms. One by one, Isara and Darian dragged them out, sending them back under the escort of the remaining guards.
Each face saved gave Darian strength. But each uniform-clad Null he killed tore at his heart.
At last, they reached the stairs leading to the rooftop.
Darian's chest heaved, sweat dripping down his brow. His axe was slick with black ichor, his arms trembling from the weight of battle. Isara wasn't much better; her breathing ragged as frost clung to her fingertips.
Still, they climbed. Step after step, until the rooftop door loomed before them.
Darian pushed it open... and froze.
The world stopped.
There she was.
Standing at the far end of the rooftop, the afternoon cast her in a bright glow.
His mother.
Her face was still beautiful, her hair flowing in the afternoon breeze. But her skin was pale, her eyes hollow and burning with unnatural hunger. Her fingers curled into claws, her posture predatory.
She wasn't human anymore.
She was a Null.
No… not just any Null.
The system's chime confirmed the nightmare.
[Starved Null Lv. 21]
Darian's vision blurred. His chest felt like it had been crushed.
"No…" His voice cracked. "No, no, no..."
Isara's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
The Starved Null tilted its head, and for a flicker of a moment, there was recognition. A twisted, broken recognition. Her lips curled back, a guttural snarl tearing from her throat as she locked onto him.
His mother.
His trial.
The monster he had to kill.