Space convulsed. Thien Anh didn't have time to kick-start the engine; instinct screamed at him to abandon the bike immediately.
"Rumble! Crash!"
The explosions didn't come from thunder, but from the collapse of civilization. The Housing Tower, once towering behind him, toppled like a fallen titan. Grey tsunamis of dust surged, swallowing trees, vehicles, and the hopeless screams of the dying.
A violent blast of air pressure hurled Thien Anh forward.
"Oof!"
A jagged slab of concrete tore through the air, slamming into his temple. The world went dark, spinning uncontrollably. Scalding blood gushed out, veiling his left eye in crimson. The acrid tang of rusty iron filled his mouth.
In an ordinary man, that impact would have shattered the skull. But Thien Anh was a laboratory product, a soul forged in hell. He staggered to his feet, wiping away the blood streaming down his chin. Stay alive.
His murky eyes swept the scene, locking onto a heavy motorcycle lying ten meters away.
"Whirr... Whirr..."
The night sky blazed like midday. Fireballs from the cosmos continued to rain down.
"KABOOM!"
Two nearby cars were struck by meteorites, erupting into living torches. The screech of twisting metal merged with the sizzle of burning flesh to create a deathly symphony. Agonized screams were cut short, incinerated into ash by the searing heat.
"Zip!"
A shard of metal from an explosion whistled past, grazing Thien Anh's left ear. A flash of coldness, followed by a brain-splitting ache. A piece of his ear was sheared off, blood splattering his shoulder. He clamped his teeth shut, his facial muscles twitching, but his legs never stopped charging toward the motorcycle.
He wasn't the only one who wanted to live. A large, middle-aged man, paralyzed by panic, was also lunging for the bike. He saw Thien Anh, but had no intention of sharing.
"Get lost!"
The man roared, throwing a heavy kick at Thien Anh's chest. Thien Anh didn't dodge. He leaned into the force, falling back only to snap a counter-kick upward. His steel-toed boot buried itself into the man's groin.
A strike of clinical brutality. The man's eyes rolled back, foam bubbling at his lips as he collapsed, curling like a boiled shrimp. Thien Anh stepped over him without a glance and vaulted onto the bike.
"Help... help me..."
The man reached out from the ground, his fingers feebly clutching at Thien Anh's pant leg, his voice a raspy plea.
Thien Anh didn't look back. In this world, pity was the ultimate luxury. He kicked the gear, and the engine roared as the bike bolted.
"You bastard! I curse you to a wretched death!" the man screamed in despair.
But the curse was never finished. "CRASH!" A massive section of a neighboring wall crumbled. The dry, brittle sound of snapping bones echoed as the man and his fury were buried forever under the rubble.
Thien Anh glanced in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. He twisted the throttle, weaving through the gaps of death.
The streets had become a battlefield. The earth cracked like a spiderweb. Cars piled into mangled heaps, their alarms wailing in a deafening, chaotic chorus.
To bypass the gridlock, Thien Anh leaned tight against the bike's frame, using a fallen billboard as a ramp to launch himself into the air.
But his luck had run dry. "BOOM!" A fuel tanker directly below exploded. The shockwave sent both man and machine flying dozens of meters.
He hit the scorching asphalt, tumbling repeatedly. The heavy bike pinned his left leg down. "Aaah..." Thien Anh hissed through gritted teeth. A piercing pain shot through his lungs and up to his brain. An iron rod from a car wreck had impaled his calf, staking him to the ground.
Dark blood flowed profusely; cold sweat drenched his body. Thien Anh took a deep breath, inhaling the stench of acrid smoke and raw blood. He knew he couldn't stay here. Staying here meant death.
His trembling hand gripped the iron rod. "Squelch!" He yanked it out. The sound of metal rasping against bone was sickening. Blood sprayed in an arc. Thien Anh tore a strip from his shirt and bound the wound tight. Despite his genetically modified body, regeneration required time and energy—and he was currently depleted of both.
Setting his jaw, Thien Anh stood up, limping toward the bike. He hauled it upright and continued his journey.
...
Two hours later.
The outskirts were derelict and eerily silent. Rain began to fall. Not water, but a slurry of mud and meteoric dust.
Thien Anh stopped the bike before the ruins that used to be his home. His heart constricted.
"Ki! Moc!"
His voice broke against the howling wind. He threw himself into the rubble, his bare hands digging frantically. Fingernails tore, flesh bruised, but he felt nothing. The fear of losing his only family was ten thousand times more agonizing than his physical wounds.
"Woof..."
A weak bark echoed from deep below. Thien Anh's eyes ignited. With every ounce of his strength, he overturned a massive concrete slab.
Beneath a small void created by a broken TV stand, two familiar figures huddled together. Ki, the crossbreed dog, was covered in white plaster dust, one front leg dangling uselessly. Wrapped tightly around his neck was Moc, the cobra, the scales on her back torn in bloody patches.
"Woof! Woof!"
Seeing Thien Anh, Ki whimpered, trying to drag his broken leg toward him. Moc raised her triangular head, her tongue flickering to lick his hand.
Thien Anh collapsed to his knees, pulling them both into his embrace. Tears carved tracks through the grime on his cheeks.
"Good... you're alive... that's all that matters..." His voice trembled, choked with emotion. He didn't see them as animals; they were family, the only reason he continued to exist in this godforsaken world.
Suddenly, the sound of the rain turned strange. "Thud... Plop... Rustle…" Thien Anh looked up, alert. On the ground, mixed with the muddy rain, were thousands of bizarre, wriggling creatures.
They were the size of a pinky finger, raw and fleshy red, their slimy bodies supported by four spindly legs, with sharp, leech-like heads. They scurried about, scenting the fresh blood from Thien Anh's wounds, and lunged.
"Into the bunker! Now!" Thien Anh barked. He swung his leg, crushing a creature about to leap onto Ki. A wet splat echoed as green fluid sprayed.
He scooped up both Ki and Moc, charging toward the secret hatch disguised beneath the old kitchen floor. His fingers flew across the keypad; the heavy steel door groaned open with a dry screech.
Thien Anh dove inside and slammed the door shut, locking the nightmare outside.
"Click!" Neon lights flickered on, dispelling the gloom. A quiet, safe void enveloped the three survivors who had just escaped the jaws of death.
Thien Anh laid Ki and Moc gently onto a mattress. He exhaled a long breath, sliding down the wall to the floor. Watching his two "friends" huddle together for warmth, the cold gaze of the assassin vanished, replaced by a rare, profound tenderness.
He reached for the medical kit. It would be a long night, but at least they still had each other.