Two pairs of footsteps echoed across the cold, hard floor of the corridor.
Two young people walked side by side — one with jet-black hair, the other with blond streaked with dark — both lost in their own thoughts.
Until a noise from one of them made them stop.
They looked at each other for a second.
« I'm hungry. »
« I'm starving. »
They nodded in unison. Their next destination was decided.
They hadn't eaten almost anything for three days now, and while Victor was used to eating very little, the same couldn't be said for the girl at his side — who had emptied the little she had in her stomach more than once.
Still, they should have felt hunger long before now. But for one reason or another, they were only starting to feel it.
Was it because of the system? The adrenaline? The fact that growing stronger somehow dulled their most basic needs?
Neither of them knew, and they weren't going to think about it on an empty stomach.
They headed toward the outside, walking past the room where the teachers were still busy talking as if that could solve anything.
To Victor, it was pointless.
Talking achieved nothing.
Action was the only thing that mattered.
In this new world, words were meaningless.
They stepped through the glass doors and found themselves face to face with the oversized corpse of the cat.
Its body had already been largely devoured by all sorts of scavengers that only came out when darkness was nearly total.
Victor calmly approached, plunging his hand into the animal's chest.
He hoped to find one of those crystals — the kind that had driven Beelzebub mad with power — but all he found were half-eaten organs and bones.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Honestly, he didn't know if he could do what that creature had done — devour a crystal like that.
Even if he could, he probably wouldn't, unless he had no other choice. The risk of losing his mind to power beyond reason deeply unsettled him.
If he couldn't control his own actions or decisions anymore, what would be the point of living?
And even if he didn't value his own life much, that didn't mean he wanted to die.
It simply meant that if death came, he wouldn't mourn it — or regret it.
« Hey, you think we can eat this big kitty? »
Victor could practically see the drool forming at the corner of Lucie's mouth as she stared at the exposed flesh of the animal.
« Princesses don't eat things like that. »
« Are you seriously still going with that? »
« My deepest apologies, your majesty. I'll stop if that's your wish. »
« You're such an ass. »
A rare smile tugged at Victor's lips.
He liked these little interactions.
He never would've imagined, even in his wildest dreams, that he could talk to someone and feel something even remotely positive.
Before, every word he spoke had a purpose, a goal, a reason.
Being able to talk casually — to joke — with someone other than himself was a new but pleasant feeling.
He wondered if that was what people felt when they talked to their friends.
If so... it wasn't so bad.
It was just sad that it took the end of the world for him to experience it.
« So this is what the cafeteria looks like… »
It was a large room, dotted with wooden tables and chairs grouped in sets of four or eight. Massive bay windows filled the place with light, and a few decorations — paintings, potted plants — gave it a homely air.
The room was completely empty, untouched, as if everything that had happened until now had never reached this place.
In a way, it made sense. The apocalypse had started early in the morning. No one was supposed to be here.
« You've never been here before? From the way you talk, it's like you didn't even study here. »
He cast a sidelong glance at Lucie, who was already heading toward the kitchens.
« Yeah. I just had a few sandwiches for lunch. »
Victor followed her inside. A soft, savory smell of meat cooking reached his nose, making him salivate.
« No wonder you're so skinny. »
He didn't know how to respond. She wasn't wrong. But then again, he'd never had a choice.
And what did it matter if he was thin or not? It was just an appearance.
If there was one thing Victor didn't care about — it was that.
« What's that? »
He leaned over Lucie's shoulder, curious.
« Steaks. Can't you tell? And keep your damn flies away from here. »
« I don't know. Never seen one. Never eaten one either. »
She squinted slightly, her focus still on the pan.
« So... what do you usually eat? Besides sandwiches? »
It was a rare chance to learn more about the boy.
Victor thought for a second. Since he'd left his hometown to live with his older sister, that was all he ever ate. Even if he'd seen her eating all sorts of other meals, he never complained.
At least she didn't hit him.
That was why, to him, she treated him well.
Not because she was kind — but because she wasn't cruel.
He didn't think that not hitting was normal and hitting was wrong.
To him, getting hit was normal. Not getting hit was good.
That was the real problem.
A child can be taught anything through repetition. Most parents, of course, raise their children with love, joy, and 'normality'.
But there are always exceptions.
« Pasta or rice, I guess. Sometimes nothing. »
« That's it? No meat? No vegetables? And what do you mean by nothing? You can't just not eat. »
Victor's pupils darkened for a moment.
« No. Sometimes I just didn't eat. That's all. »
Lucie realized she wouldn't get more out of him, but her pity for him only deepened.
She couldn't imagine what he'd been through, and even though she wanted to ask, she knew it would do more harm than good. He'd have to open up on his own.
She grabbed two plates, laid the steaks and some vegetables she'd sautéed in the pan.
It was pretty much the only meal she knew how to make — but it would do.
They didn't bother to sit down, preferring to eat standing at the counter.
A small problem arose, however.
Victor couldn't really eat with only one hand.
But he was far too hungry to let that stop him.
He dropped his utensils and simply used his working hand — as he always had.
Lucie watched him for a moment, a bite frozen between her fingers. She didn't say anything, but her expression said enough.
The boy grabbed a chunk of meat and bit into it.
The sensation was unreal.
It was nothing like anything he'd ever eaten. The taste, the texture, the warmth — it was all new.
He finally understood why his sister had spent so much time cooking when she could've just eaten something simple.
For a moment, he didn't speak, his eyes unfocused.
« Do you have to eat like a wild animal? You've healed so fast — your arm should at least be able to hold a fork by now. »
« I've always eaten like this. It's a habit. I could ask why you eat so politely. »
He paused.
« And no, it's not healed yet. »
He wanted to tell her the truth — that it might never heal, that he might never use it again.
He didn't care much, it was just a tool, like any other limb.
But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say it.
He didn't even know why. He'd never lied before. Never saw the point.
No matter if the truth hurt someone — he spoke it.
No matter if it got him into trouble — he said what he thought.
But when he saw the genuine worry in Lucie's eyes, he couldn't tell her. Not after the conversation they'd had earlier.
They finished the meal in silence. Lucie ate absentmindedly, lost in thought.
Victor fought the urge to devour everything in one bite.
Then, suddenly, a loud noise echoed from outside.
It started as a distant rumble — like something massive moving.
Then came the metallic crash.
Victor's head snapped up, alert.
Lucie, on the other hand, didn't react much — clearly already aware of what it was.
« What's that sound? »
« That's what I wanted you to hear earlier. The bastard that's keeping us trapped here. »
Without a second's hesitation, Victor left what remained of his meal and walked outside.
Every step he took forward set off alarms in his instincts — as if his body knew what awaited him beyond the door.
And the moment his eyes fell upon it — he understood.
A colossus, at least fifteen meters tall.
A massive skeleton of dark green bone, covered in moss and rotting fungus.
Patches of putrid, slimy flesh clung to its frame, only to slide off and splatter onto the ground with a wet, nauseating sound — before growing back again.
It was a revolting sight, even for Victor.
A thing that should not exist in this world.