I ran my ass off—sprinting, stumbling, doing everything I could to escape the endless swarm of monsters hunting me down like I was their last meal. My drones buzzed frantically above me, but they were quickly overwhelmed, buried beneath a tide of snarling mouths and clawed limbs.
They bit into my right forearm—hundreds of teeth shredding through flesh like it was soft pancake. My arm was torn off with a sickening rip, my tendons flailing like snapped wires. But even then—I didn't feel the excruciating pain I was supposed to. That should've scared me more than the monsters.
There was no bone in my arm. No blood spilling out. It was hollow—completely hollow. And that made everything worse... Am i alive?
Adam realized the horror of what was happening. He didn't speak. He didn't scream. He just stayed completely still. Silent. He couldn't afford to die here. He couldn't die—not after surviving everything else. Not now. Not like this.
He regretted it immediately—walking into a gate without preparation, without a plan, without backup. That decision was costing him now.
Out of the writhing mass of monsters, another creature crawled out on four crooked limbs. Its face was torn in half, one side human, the other a fleshy ruin with bulging eyes and broken teeth. It lunged for his ankle, jaws wide. But a laser shot out—blasting through its mouth, vaporizing its teeth. The creature's lower jaw melted into molten pulp.
But it wasn't over. Not even close.
There were still many of them.
His mind raced, searching for a way out. He was surrounded, the monsters tightening in. Sweat poured down his face as he yanked open his system panel. With trembling hands, he navigated through the options and bought a flamethrower—ten creation points gone in an instant.
He didn't hesitate.
With a metallic hiss, fire erupted from the nozzle, scorching everything in its path. The flames danced like angry spirits, consuming the monsters in bright orange waves.
But the chaos didn't stop.
Another monster leapt, sinking its teeth into his shoulder. In a wild panic, Adam bit back, snarling like an animal. But it didn't budge. Its hide was like armor, tougher than steel. Stronger than anything natural. It was inhuman.
Gritting his teeth, he raised his torn-off arm and positioned the flamethrower. A river of fire sprayed outward, waves of heat rolling like tsunamis, engulfing trees, monsters—everything. The forest went up in flames, entire rows of trees exploding in fiery bursts.
Geneva Convention? What the hell was that? He was breaking it five times over.
"EAT THIS!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, voice raw with rage and survival.
But it didn't matter. The monsters kept coming. An army. A hive. Endless.
It was like the forest itself was spawning them—regenerating its guardians, one after another, with no end in sight.
So, he ran.
Again.
Ran until his legs felt like they were breaking, until his vision blurred from the heat, smoke, and exhaustion. And then, through the haze and fire, he saw it—shimmering in the distance—a barrier.
His heart surged.
Hope.
He ran faster, like a lunatic, like a man with nothing left to lose. His limbs barely responded, but he pushed through.
As he crossed the barrier, everything changed.
The scorched sky faded into a warm, golden daylight. The air cleared. The smoke vanished. He fell forward, tumbling into a yellow pasture. Grass. Wind. Sky. Peace.
He lay there, gasping, huffing and puffing, lungs clawing for breath. His entire body screamed for rest. And in that stillness, he finally noticed a hill—a soft, gentle slope rising nearby. A wooden cabin stood quietly atop it.
Near him, there was a bed—just lying there under the sun. Cozy, gray blankets folded neatly on it, inviting him with a strange warmth.
He didn't question it.
He dragged himself to the bed, flopped onto the mattress, and closed his eyes.
The moment his body touched the bed, something changed again.
His wounds—his missing arm, torn shoulder, gaping bites—began to heal. Flesh reformed. Muscle returned. His bones regrew like branches twisting out of the void. It was instant. Surreal.
His arm, which had been rotting and blackened with necrosis, came back to life in seconds. It was as if the bed was made for this.
Dreamy. Magical. Terrifying.
And then he saw the horizon.
Countless swords pierced the ground in front of him—each one planted downward, perfectly vertical. There were all kinds: greatswords, long swords, hook swords, scabbards etched with ornate patterns. It was like a graveyard of warriors, their weapons left behind.
White fireflies floated through the air, their wings flapping like glowing petals.
Adam exhaled, finally allowing his body to relax.
"Okay... maybe living in this place wouldn't be so bad," he muttered, hand resting on his chin, a smile forming. "Better than anything I've ever experienced. I'll bring Yoku and Yuri here next time... They'd love it."
He followed a stone trail leading to the cabin. Along the way, he passed a pomegranate tree, its red fruit glistening in the sunlight. Beside the barn nearby, various garden plants grew—lavender, rosemary, tomatoes, sunflowers—carefully tended.
And then he saw her.
A girl with short black hair streaked with red sat beside a canvas. She looked tired, pouting as she painted with slow, frustrated strokes. She noticed him and gave a curious glance.
"Oh... you there. It's been so long since I've seen a new person."
She kept her eyes on the canvas, her voice casual. Adam walked closer, unsure. It felt... strange. Like he was trespassing into someone's world. He couldn't shake the awkward feeling that he was being a stalker.
As he stepped beside her, he saw the green pastures stretching endlessly. The sky painted it all in hues of calm.
"What do you think?" she asked suddenly. "What should I add to the canvas?"
Adam blinked. "Uh... I don't really know how to paint. Maybe... make it more chaotic?"
She sighed. "That's what I'm thinking too. But I don't know what to add anymore."
A pause.
"You live your whole life seeing everything, experiencing everything," she murmured, "but sometimes, you realize—you don't have the ability to create everything you've seen. It's like something's missing. A limit in your mind."
She looked down, almost embarrassed. "I'll prove Miyoko wrong. I'm not stupid."
Adam looked around at the hills, the light, the sky.
"There's... a lot you could draw here," he offered.
She shook her head, setting the paintbrush aside.
"I want to create something I've never seen before."
How the hell do you even do that?
The memory of dying still echoed in Adam's head—his body torn, healed by a bed that shouldn't exist.
"Hey, don't you know there's monsters in that forest?" he asked cautiously.
She paused, thinking.
"There are monsters everywhere," she said simply. "Are you talking about Meshune Forest, or... something else?"
He rolled his eyes. "...Never mind."
His gaze drifted.
Far away, on another hill, stood a person waving at him. Their body was sleek—black like a mannequin. Their head wasn't human. It was a perfect obsidian orb, polished and smooth.
"What about that?" he asked. "You could draw that person."
"Oh," she said.
She picked up the brush again, drawing a black figure with a spherical head—its body abstract, faceless, eerie.
"I guess this is it... Thanks for looking. Most people would've ignored it by now," she said softly.
Her tone darkened.
"And sometimes you just doubt yourself. You wonder if you should even keep going. Or if maybe... it really is this bad."
A mannequin on a green hill, waving at you from afar.
Totally not uncanny. Or weird. At all.
Just a joke line:
The girl stared at the canvas, brush hovering mid-air. Her expression turned cold as she looked down at her half-finished painting. Silence.
Then, under her breath, she muttered:
"If anyone dares to reject my painting... I'll just wipe out the one race I hate the most."
She stood up slowly, her expression twisting into something dangerously smug.
"Muhahaha...!"
Adam blinked. "...Wait, what?"