It was only his third time in New Paris, yet Brock found himself becoming increasingly familiar with the winding streets of the city. Compared to his first visit however, many buildings were in far better condition, having been painted over, repaired, or were just completely demolished and in the process of being replaced.

He assumed stats afforded the ability for such speed in construction.

By extension, he caught less people sleeping on the pathways and in the alleys. It was probably only around half of the prior count, but still, it was a rather significant change. People chuckled and exclaimed to each other as they perused the streets, their minds at ease and sense of danger numbed.

From the blissful expressions on many faces, Brock could tell they hadn’t seen a monster in a long while. They were going soft. If something happened here…

That’s their issue, not mine.

Sighing, Brock pushed the matter aside and focused himself on the sound of idle chatter and happiness. It reminded him closely of pre-System Earth, where life was peaceful and filled with little problems. Sure, there were still the big problems going on everywhere, but since they weren’t trying to tear you apart and eat you, people could just ignore it. Brock included.

As he passed by, several vendors and opportunistic merchants waved him down and attempted to persuade him as to the quality of their wares, but out of miscellaneous trinkets, salvaged cooking pans, and useless jewellery, he found nothing he wished to purchase.

A few people were selling Treasures, albeit rather weak ones and in very low quantities, and Brock made sure to snag as many as he could. They were quite a rare sight, however, though the high price kept them in fair stock.

Brock ate them as he walked, none of them powerful enough in their change to knock him out. A small grin slid across his face as his race was boosted by seven levels by the time he reached the end of the market streets. The fogged gateway leading to the outside loomed in the distance, and Brock finally decided to check what he’d obtained.

Settling into a chair in one of the repainted storefronts, ‘Marshall’s’ as it was called, a phone flickered into Brock’s hand and the screen flashed to life. A few taps later, and he was looking over a digital map. Upon zooming out, he found that it charted a significant portion of pre-System Europe, though it was clear to him that it was an incomplete map.

A dotted red line was traced from his position in New Paris – marked by a blue Eiffel Tower icon and an arrow representing him – all the way through the newly created mountain ranges of Italy and Greece, and finally to the bottom right of Egypt.

Unlike anything else on the map, where many icons showed recognisable landmarks or were just typical city-esque icons, caves, or something or other, the Source was marked by a simple black question mark. Brock licked his lips and tried to zoom in. All he could glean was four significantly large patches of various coloured sands; black, yellow, blue, and orange; and that was it. The rest was obscured by pixels and a monstrous canopy.

Judging by the way Adam had no idea what he was talking about initially and that the area was marked by a question mark, Brock found himself coming to the conclusion that Genesis had either never bothered to send someone into the Source to investigate, or they had, and something had killed them.

And if he got the average levels of their operatives – somewhere around the 50s – it meant that something rather strong was waiting in there. Brock felt his heart skip a beat in anticipation. Hopefully, power meant intelligence. And intelligence meant a chance.

A breath escaped his lips. But the trip… fuck it’s long…

Just by sight, he could see that the distance was only around a third of what it was between Paris and Japan, but still, it would take him a month or two to cross it all.

He only had three left. And even that seemed to be a generous prediction.

“Hey,” Brock glanced at his shadow. No aura wafted up from it, “Mio?”

Silence. He cursed. Would he really have to waste two months in just travel time? Let alone the actual part of saving his life, the trip was just to find the way to do it. He cursed again, and his head naturally fell into his hands. He felt anxiousness stirring within his gut.

He hated it. He felt sick.

The images of the various faces of those he’d saved from the Skin Walker den flashed in his mind. He’d wanted to pay them a visit before he left, but now that he found himself on such an intense time crunch, he knew that’d he’d have to postpone it for a long while. Until he fixed himself at the very least.

Heaving out a sigh, Brock’s muscles twitched and brought him out of the chair in one brisk motion. He took a deep breath in, feeling the oxygen stretch his lungs and fill them with sustenance. His anxiousness calmed, if only a little.

“Well. I better get a move on then.”

There were a few things Brock knew he needed to obtain before he ventured out into the wilds in search of his final chance at living. One of those was food and water. The supplies in his ring were dwindling, and while he still had some of the insect corpses left over, he’d rather eat processed food before switching to a more barbaric lifestyle. It’d be bad for his sanity.

He also doubted he could cook them as good as those chefs in King’s Cavity and didn’t want to disappoint himself.

That aside, he’d also like some more fuel for his jeep, if possible, as he knew he wouldn’t be able to run the entire trip without fatigue. A spare phone also came to mind, but he had a feeling Genesis would be the only way to obtain one. Currently, he wasn’t feeling too good about going to their HQ asking for one.

From what he knew, there was a ration station near the gate, so food wasn’t too difficult to obtain. It was relatively expensive compared to the foods he’d seen in Meiyo, at around 5000 Shards per ration pack, but it was filling, and able to be sold in bulk.

In a matter of five minutes, five hundred thousand Shards went down the drain. Brock funds barely felt it.

Fuel was also being sold at the ration station, but at one million Shards a canister, he felt his brain threatening to burst as he considered the benefits and demerits of buying some. In the end, he bought ten and left himself some cash to spare.

He could always make more money just by killing shit, and currently, time he spent fatigued was time he wasn’t travelling toward survival. Every second counted here.

As he deposited his explosive haul into his ring, his eyes fell on the simplified icon of his phone, and he briefly debated giving Fon a call, as he knew she was in possession of a phone. In the end, he did, and after a ten-minute session of him getting scolded for ‘idiocy’, they had an amicable chat and he filled her in on what was happening.

To a degree.

“Alright, I’m hanging up no-“

He felt something bump into his chest and he pressed the button. He didn’t budge. As Brock came back to himself, he heard the cries of a man as he fell back, and his arm snaked out and grabbed him by his suit. His velvety, perfect, three-piece suit. Brock glanced at Adam’s shocked face.

He raised a brow. Blessedly, the man didn’t make any of his oppressed rage from earlier surface.

“Adam?” Brock got the man in question back to his feet and helped smooth over the wrinkles in his suit. The style-god stepped back and smoothed those smoothed wrinkles, as if it was habit, “Where’d you come from?”

Straightening his tie, Adam cocked a brow in disbelief, “I was calling out your name, and you just didn’t stop walking.”

“Oh. Well, what’s up?” Brock smiled sheepishly. He was a bit occupied.

A long sigh was drawn out of the other man, and he hung his head low. A silence fell between the two, the background of their conversation populated by the ever-present bustle of the streets, and finally, Adam looked up, gaining the urge to speak.

“I apologi-” he cut himself off midsentence and shook his head vehemently. He sighed once more, “I’m sorry about Maxwell. Again. He… I don’t think he’s stable anymore; he’s not the man I agreed to work with.”

Brock snorted, “I don’t think he was ever stable.”

If Adam noticed that Brock hadn’t accepted his apology, he didn’t show it, “Maybe. Either way, I’m still sorry. Truly sorry. He’s… well, he’s unpredictable. Very unpredictable”

A silence followed, before Brock scratched his chin unassumingly and met Adam’s eyes. They shook as they locked with his own, “He is. And if pulls anything again, it’ll be the last thing he pulls.”

Brock felt rage bubble inside him, but he soothed it back down. Adam’s gaze didn’t flinch at the hardly hidden death threat, and instead, Brock thought he saw relief flare within. Regardless, he meant what he said. Today was the last straw. He didn’t want to kill the man, truly, but he…

…I won’t be able to kill him, will I? Brock didn’t know whether to feel annoyed at his stupid morals or relief toward them.

Sighing, he felt there was nothing more to say, and the warrior stepped around Adam and headed toward the fogged gate, “Later, Adam.”

“…Goodbye.”

He sensed Adam standing unmoving even as his body passed through the fog and into the ivory.

**

Thick plumes of smoke rose up into the sky, painting blue over with greys and blacks. The cries of the fearful and the mourning littered the area, echoing through the ruined streets and shattered buildings. The air carried the scent of blood and cinders, and Zin Keene could practically taste the horror that drifted along on the breeze.

He hovered high above the city of ‘Adelaide’, as the Earthlings called it. A large stretch of it had been obliterated, erased to dust. Other areas had been crumbled and shaved down to rubble, the stone iced over with the effects of his Augment. Still, a significant portion remained intact, and he praise himself for his benevolence.

A smile spread across his face. He knew it wasn’t benevolence. He had just gotten bored with the mindless destruction. He wasn’t a beast after all.

Far below him, corpses lay along the street, mushed and carved, some even fully intact, their brains having crumpled from the pressure of his aura against their feeble minds. ‘Weak’ was all he could think when he gazed down on these sorry people.

“Pathetic.”

In his left hand lay a device, the sample of the Error Signature emanating from it. It had been used only an hour ago. The creature had indeed walked the streets of the city. Of course, to entertain himself, he couldn’t help but converse with the locals and play the ‘detective’. It was a simple indulgence.

He glanced at the ruins of the city once more. It truly was a pity for such a stable city to be destroyed as it was. Stability wasn’t common in newly initiated worlds, after all. But alas, how was he to know that the locals would be so… aggressive.

Zin’s grin widened.

With his cackling laughter echoing throughout the skies, his aura grasped onto a weak point in the fabric of space and he tore it open. He had already completed the locating ritual from the Error’s latest teleportation an hour prior, and his body simply winked out of existence, leaving devastation behind.

As he reappeared, the ruins of a delipidated town awaited him.