The smell of smoke and blood weaved in the distance, its stinging seams grew thicker the further away the two ventured from where they began. The barren land of dirt and sparse grass patches slowly formed into a broken path and the dying trees on its side made way for weathered walls and shattered stones.

Rana’s anxiety grew with each step. She knew the signs of ruin. Empty husks abandoned and forgotten by those who once called them home. Those who remained would soon be lost to the stenches of slaughter. She was in a settlement on the border of the kingdom, the border between humanity and the monsters that wished to invade it.

Rana did not know for what reason monsters wanted to invade the kingdom, but she knew that the war predated even written history and its origin could only be found in the stream of ever-changing oral myths. Rana realized she did not know a single one of them.

The earliest surviving record of the war told of the One Hero, champion of the One Deity, united and lead humanity into a decisive victory against the monsters and ushered in a century of prosperity. The kingdom was created and the story of their victory was immortalized in the High Wall, a giant fortress built on their site of triumph. It was the symbol of the kingdom’s might. Rana had never been there but she knew about it.

Rana pulled herself away from her trailing thoughts. Many times she was surprised by what she knew and this time it was no different. Whatever she was in life she must’ve been quite studious. It was another clue but she also couldn’t rule out the possibility that the knowledge came to her during the process of her revival. Whatever it was, however, it could wait.

Rana needed to know where she and the hooded woman were going. She opened her mouth but once again her voice only came in the form of rusted gargles. It would be some time before she would be able to generate words.

“Perhaps you would find it preferable to practice silence,” the hooded woman said, interrupting Rana without even turning back. “You are demonstrating a magnificent ability to imitate the sound of the undead flesh. I think if you ever decide to live as a zombie kind fitting in would not be an issue once you fix your posture. However, unless you wish to attract those who would want to see you in a state of death even further beyond what you are currently, I would advise you to choose another past time to slate your boredom.”

Rana’s eyes narrowed and she wanted to protest. Did the woman honestly believe Rana was simply passing time?

“I jest. It would do you well to loosen up a bit,” the woman said. She stopped and turned around to give Rana a small smirk. “The path of an undead is filled with strife and death. Try to enjoy its peace while you still can.”

The last few words sounded distant and filled with an ominous certainty. It was a resignation only of those who have seen what lied ahead. Before Rana could ponder the meaning behind those words the hooded woman continued forward.

“If you must know however we are currently attempting to exit a human settlement or the remains of such. Many were killed during the pointless fighting over the years. Whoever remained either fled south to cities that would exploit them or stayed for reasons only their foolish hearts would know. Humans are truly pitiful creatures. They cling to false hopes that someone would save them, would understand their plight. No. There is no salvation for the weak. What you see now, zombie, is the dying breath of those rejected by fellow humans and we must ensure we do not get consumed by whatever terribleness that will soon follow.”

Rana was upset when the hooded woman emphasized her state of being yet it was nothing compared to when she dared insinuate that this ruin was brought by fellow humankind. No. She rejected it. She was not naïve enough to believe that humans could commit no wrong. There were those who exited to profit from the suffering from the innocent but under the guidance of the One Church corruption was being routed and humanity was kinder than ever.

Humanity was united and the Church would defend it.

So why was it so hard to believe?

Before Rana could argue back a cry filled the skies. It was desperate. It was pleading.

“Ignore it, zombie.,” the hooded woman said without stopping. The word of her new existence was sharper than any cry and it weighed on her shoulders. “No matter the plight her salvation is not yours to bear. It would be folly to save those who would wish you harm. You are no longer human and those you want to aid are those who would not hesitate for even a moment to cut you down.”

Rana did not believe that humans were the cause of the ruin before her. Monsters brought this evil. That was why she believed the hooded woman. She knew that humans would not hesitate when their blades came down onto her flesh. Her chilled, broken, and decaying flesh.

Still, there was hope. Rana had the mind of a human and most importantly she had the heart of one. She believed that it was true. She couldn’t feel her own touch but she could still feel her emotions. Her sadness and despair were proof that she was not a monster. Somewhere deep down in her heart she was still human.

A monster would ignore that cry for help. Not a human. Rana would answer the call for help. She was not a monster but a human experiencing a very unfortunate curse.

Rana ran towards the direction of the cry. She heard a low growl vibrating under the hood of the woman. It sounded almost primal. She paid it no attention. It didn’t matter if the hooded woman followed or if she decided to continue without Rana.

Rana had to answer the cry for help and save whoever called to her.

Rana ran. Her joints were stiff and her legs were frail. The sudden strenuous activity cased a dull ache with each step. However the further she ran the more comfortable she was at controlling her legs. Finally she was at a point where she could run as well as she did in life. That was what Rana believed.

She raced through the settlement and the more she neared the cry the thicker the scent of death became. The settlement was on the verge of ruin and whoever was causing it made sure it would breathe its final breath. Rana could not save its people but she would save a person.

The cry for mercy was moving slowly as if it was a prey being toyed by a predator salivating over each desperate plea. She had to hurry.

Rana reached the settlement square. A young woman on the crisp of adulthood fell onto the ground. Her clothes were battered and blood poured out of her thigh, leaving a trail of blood behind her. It was a testament to how long she struggled for. It was a path that lead the reaper to where she was. She could no longer walk and crawled to a communal water well. She leaned on its stone walls and her eyes widened in fear when her pursuer appeared.

It was no monster but Rana was not against calling it such. It was a bandit, humans who lost their humanity and enriched themselves by pillaging settlements weakened by monsters. They were cowards who abandoned their duty. They were as much to blame as monsters when it came to the suffering of innocents.

Rana watched the situation unfold. She watched as the woman cried and hugged herself with her own frail arms. It was a futile effort. The bandit was stronger and empowered by the lust of battle. He also had a mark on the back of his dominate hand, the sign of him having once received a Class blessing from the church. Not only was he a despicable coward, the bandit was also a traitor. He betrayed his oath to his mark and used its power for evil.

Unforgivable.

Heading into battle against someone with a Class without knowing the details of their Status was foolish at the best and suicidal during most. If she failed she would return to the void and would be forever lost in the pain. Rana understood it was a miracle she escaped. If she stepped away no one would blame her.

Those who would risk death did not know what Rana had to endure.

“No! Get away from me, you monster!”

The young woman screamed and the bandit was on top of her. His fist collided with her face and the force caused her head to crash onto the well. She was dazed and began to bleed from her temple.

Rana was not a bystander. She made an oath. She knew it. If she abandoned the young woman she would be no different than a monster. Her body already died and all she had left was her humanity. What would happen to Rana if her heart died as well.

Death in the void or death in the heart. Rana chose neither.

She knew it was stupid.

Rana readied her Status and ran into battle.

[System (Notification): Soul recognized. Unable to match data. Resolving issue. Rana (event) changed to Rana (monster). Incompatible with previous data. New Soul entry created. Rana (monster) changed to Rana (marked).]