Anamnesis: Queen of the Apocalypse - Chapter 16

A mere rabbit in the lion’s den. Boiled, yet cold like winter. With a microgun ready, you strike the trigger like a flaring match to unleash the destructive power into one of the three beasts.

The barrels cycle into the other, and the launching of the second rounds ignites the battlefield physically and mentally.

Alerted, the beasts then scatters at high speed from another, avoiding the shot completely.

You redirect your aiming into the left in the midst of the rush, then anchoring your front last steps into the moldy ground. The low friction makes you slide into the middle of between the flanking brutes, as you pull the trigger again to release the third shot right into its head.

You couldn’t care less about the cadaver and turn around 180° to intercept the last remaining fiend. The velocity of your microgun swinging is too intense to retract and aim so you pull the trigger right when the barrel has the beast in its sight while sparing no effort on stabilizing the microgun as if you’re a batter in a baseball.

With no time to waste, you begin to check the surroundings. The fatigue from the flashy action you did has calmed you down from the mental breakdowns.

That pink troll is by no means weak. So there might be another reason for her disappearance and the campsite trashing.

What if she is currently intercepting the calamity? Speaking of that, you realize that the Humvee is nowhere in sight, is there a sudden importancy to the point that she leaves you behind? There is also a chance that there is a group of people who wanted both of you to die knowing the history of the original Long Leggy and Chronos’ hobby of pissing off people. It couldn’t be, is there a raid on the Citadel!?

Out of all things you find, are three messed up boxes, and a considerably big crumpled paper containing a message: “I think I forgot something back on the basement, I left you with those jerkies in the boxes—”

You checked the box, there are no jerkies.

“Just in case you starve and don’t know what to eat during the duration of my absence. I hope that you can survive till tomorrow! Oh! And don’t forget to retrieve at least three Yelper ore! I forgot to tell ya that the ore was located right on their humps—”

You take out the bad drawing of the Yelper and the trait is matching with the three beasts you’ve massacred.

“Guess that one was solved.” You murmur.

You then continue to read the message, “I also hid the rest ammunition right behind the tree that I used for a hammock—”

“So you did relax in a hammock afterall!!”

The rage and petty might be there, but you take a deep breath and read the rest of the letter, “On the side note, I also put a lighter and a portable cooking equipment out of instinct just in case that three Yelpers will snatch the jerkies because you’re late coming back to the campsite. Other than that, Goodluck!”

— Chronos.

It ends with a horribly drawn thumbs up gesture.

“Oh nice.”

In the end, she does care a lot about you after all. To repay her gratitude even though you’re out of reach, you smash down the paper with full strength and begin to stomp the hell out of it.

“SO YOU DO KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN AFTER ALL!!”

You then show your love and joy.

“I HOPE THE CALAMITY EATS YOU ALIVE!”

Time passes by, the flame faintly wavers, staining the brain with bitter charcoal flavor. The kind of pain that you usually complain about then learn to savor, either you will survive through this unneeded hardship that has been bestowed upon you or die trying. A do or die, dipping your toes to a swimming pool with sky height and an abyss deep.

You want to ignore the three Yelper corpses you killed at first but there is a fair chance of a bigger predator getting attracted to the corpses’ smell, if the logic applies. There is also a carving knife along with the cooking utensils that is more of a combat equipment inside the box together with the microgun ammunition.

With no experience whatsoever, you decide to carve out the infamous Yelper Ore crudely. The hide of this beast is warm and gritty, it is sturdier than you think. The power of the microgun’s rounds is no joke.

But then the image of a cute sentient white cube with goofy eyes comes into your mind.

“I hope I don’t see that thing ever again.”

The black liquid spurts out as you stab the corpse with the knife, your nose is overrun by the pungent smells of thick rust of iron. It is all over the place, even your clothing. With a folded deadpan of resentment; you couldn’t care less.

As your knife buries itself into the black flesh, it hits a hard spot, searching for the roots. With enough power, you take out the crystalized heavy ore.

Yelper Ore acquired.

You do that for the other two until you have nothing left to do and begin to rekindle the campfire.

The sky is still red, the unnerving Killer Dusk is still there. You couldn’t get accustomed to it as much as you wanted to.

Playing with a stick through the embers, your eyes dazzle with the thought of what might come in the future. The world is already as surreal as it is, but the whole thing might be too overwhelming for a normal person like you. Aren’t your chances to survive in this world close to zero? The realization is there, the only left thing to do is to acknowledge it.

But all that aside, do you really just want to give up and die again? Shallow doesn’t mean it doesn’t work, you learn many new things and more things to unravel.

Alas, it’s time to take action.

Because you’re not alone.

The opposite direction from the forest, from afar.. A faint sound, a faint presence, a faint light.