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Chapter 25: The Road of life and death.

  Chapter 25: The Road of Life and Death

  Opening — Goliath’s Aftermath

  The clearing reeked of death.

  Fires licked at blackened trees, smoke choking the sky with the acrid tang of scorched flesh. Bodies lay strewn across the charred earth—some crushed, others torn apart, many reduced to mangled heaps of meat. Fifty corpses, at least. Not one had died clean.

  And at the center of it all sat Goliath.

  He didn’t bother to hide himself, nor the monster beneath him. The radioactive apex predator that had rampaged through the forest hours earlier was now nothing more than a carcass—its skull split open like brittle clay, its glowing innards leaking across the soil before fading to black.

  Goliath rested atop it like a king upon his throne, his massive frame slick with blood and ash. His presence weighed heavier than the fire itself. Around him, his Goliath-clan and the Hyena Clan scavenged the dead—looting food, weapons, scraps of armor.

  Their laughter echoed sharp and cruel, but none dared draw too close. Even predators knew better than to disturb a greater beast.

  A dark shape fluttered through the smoke—

  a messenger bird, wings scorched, landing on Goliath’s arm.

  He untied the sealed parchment, scanned the words.

  Jake’s seal was upon it.

  Ash’s location confirmed.

  For a long moment, only the crackle of flame and the slow drip of blood filled the clearing.

  Then Goliath grinned.

  It wasn’t the grin of a man amused. It was the grin of something patient—something that enjoyed pulling the wings off its prey before setting them on fire.

  “Good,” he murmured, folding the parchment with deliberate care.

  “Run them down. Bleed them. Let them crawl toward hope.”

  He paused, eyes glowing red through the haze.

  “And when they start to hope…”

  his teeth bared in a wolfish smile,

  “…that’s when I’ll descend upon them —and shatter that fragile light of hope.”

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  The carcass beneath him groaned, exhaling a last hiss of radioactive steam.

  And from the radiation smoke emerged the leader of the Hyena clan licking the last bits of radioactive marrow from his fingers,

  ‘’With Jake on their tail we won’t have to worry about anything anymore…’’ the Hyena clan leader said,

  Goliath leaned back against it, perfectly relaxed—

  a monarch of ruin, surrounded by death that felt almost reverent.

  Scene — The Road of Life and Death

  Far from the chaos, Ash, Adam, and Luna climbed through the mountain ridges.

  The terrain was steep, jagged, slick with moss and mist. Each ledge threatened to crumble, but they pressed on. Because if they stopped—

  they knew it might be their last breath.

  Luna led the way, wrist still bandaged.

  “Careful here,” she warned, hopping up the next ledge.

  The edge groaned under her boot. She froze—then it gave way.

  “Shit—!”

  Two hands caught her at once: Ash’s firm grip on her arm and Adam’s trembling one on her wrist. Together, they hauled her up.

  Luna gasped, clutching her chest. “Man, that was close… Thanks, guys.”

  Ash said nothing, dusting his hand off and moving ahead.

  “Cold as always,” Luna muttered. “Can’t even say thank you?”

  “How far are we from this ‘safe haven’?” Ash asked flatly.

  “Half a day. Maybe more if you keep being grumpy,” she said, smirking.

  “Tch. Then move faster.”

  Luna rolled her eyes. “You know, a little gratitude wouldn’t kill you—especially since this shortcut saves us days.”

  Adam frowned. “Shortcut? What shortcut?”

  “This one,” Luna replied breezily. “The Road of Life and Death.”

  Adam froze mid-step. “…The what?”

  She glanced back, confused. “The Road of Life and Death. Why?”

  Adam’s eyes widened. “You mean the Road of Life and Death?! The one that leads straight to the Valley of Death?!”

  “Uh-yeah?...”

  “People die here, Luna! Horribly!”

  “Relax,” she said with a shrug. “It’s completely safe this time of year.”

  Adam nearly choked. “SAFE?! The Road of Life and Death and safe shouldn’t even exist in the same sentence!!”

  Ash sighed. “You two done yet?”

  Luna turned, her tone calmer now. “Look, I heard the stories. Countless awakened tried to cross these paths. None made it out and fewer made it out to tell the tale, But every four years, something happens—everything on this path goes quiet. All the monsters disappear.”

  “Disappear?” Ash asked.

  “Yeah. But to be more specific They migrate,” Luna replied. “Every one of those things—beasts that could put the rad beast you fought to shame—moves toward the Valley of Death.”

  “Why?” Adam asked, his voice cracking.

  “No one knows,” Luna said.

  “But it lasts until the last four days of the month’’ she continued,

  Then they come flooding back.”

  Adam paled. “…Wait. There’s only nine days left in the month.”

  “Mm-hm,” Luna said, smiling faintly. “Which means we’ve got five days before the Stampede begins in earnest.”

  Adam buried his face in his hands. “I knew there was going to be a catch!”

  “Enough,” Ash said.

  “Doesn’t matter what it’s called. We reach the safe haven before then—or we die trying.”

  They moved faster, the mist thickening around them. The wind moaned across the cliffs, low and cold—like something whispering their names.

  Luna glanced back once, unease flickering across her face.

  “Let’s hope we don’t run into trouble…”

  “Don’t jinx it,” Adam muttered.

  Cut — Eldorado

  Far away, beneath the golden haze of Eldorado, the city of mafias and monsters—

  a man with bright yellow hair walked calmly through the chaos.

  A red pendant gleamed under the morning sun light, as it dangled back and forth around his throat.

  In his hand, an old photograph—

  three figures beneath a Greenland flag.

  He smirked. “Asset retrieval mission… starts now.”

  Narration — The Crimson Stampede

  Every four years, the island of Thanaros bleeds.

  The Crimson Stampede—a phenomenon that’s haunted the isle since the Black Genesis.

  For reasons unknown, every radioactive creature on the island enters a frenzy. Monsters rampage. Humans turn paranoid and violent. The very air turns crimson beneath the Blood Moon’s glare.

  Then, on the final four days of the month—

  the island erupts.

  A flood of monsters, blood, and madness devours everything.

  Sixty percent of life—wiped clean.

  It has happened thirty-four times in the last hundred and thirty-six years.

  Scientists call it a cycle.

  Survivors call it judgment.

  This year… will be the last.

  End of chapter 25.

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