The broken moon slept in the distance. Its crimson shade faded into a warm blue and the shattered fragments disappeared from the starless sky. It was a strange phenomenon. The sky changed depending on where it was viewed. The closer the land was to monster territory, the bloodier the night became. Its true form, however, remained unknowable.

Humanity learned to trust the night. The moon would tell them that they were safe, that no harm would befall them. There were even Seers in the past that learned to discern the message above. The art was lost but the truth remained. Monsters were harbingers of the crimson night, and the warm blue protected humanity from their cruelty.

Rana now knew the night did not know the truth. She roamed the dark alleys of a human settlement, surrounded by villagers who were sound asleep, who did not know a monster was within their midst, who would kill her on sight.

The blue night was unsafe for anyone involved here.

Footsteps echoed out of an opening door and she froze. To her dismay, it was an easy feat for a zombie. She had no heartbeat nor the need to breathe. All she had to do was will herself to be still. She listened closely and prepared her escape route, but the steps only got quieter until they disappeared into the distance.

It would be an issue if she was spotted. Her cursed jacket concealed her damaged skin well and the night provided enough cover. However, a torch near her face would reveal her undead state. She needed to avoid the village patrol. She did not believe there were marked ones stationed here, but alarming the authorities of a strange stray zombie would only invite future troubles.

Rana huddled within her jacket but it did nothing to alleviate the chill she felt. The cursed item had no mercy and its hate continued to course through her empty veins. It had already been a month since she wore the jacket but the cursed chill only intensified as time went on. She wanted to take it off but the curse was the only reason she was alive. She tried using mana to alleviate the cold, but its warmth was no match for pure despair and hatred.

Rana had never felt more like the undead before she wore the curse.

She peeked out from weathered barrels soaked in filth. This settlement did not have the smell of fear or blood, it had the smell of apathy and destitute, and Rana was not sure which was worse.

She waited until the patrol’s torch disappeared into a corner. They were comprised of young volunteers, and none of them were marked ones. In the past, she would’ve believed it was normal that settlements far from the the frontlines had no need for a marked one. The only threat to humanity were monsters after all. Now, she wondered if it was simply because the people here were poor.

Threats existed in many forms, and only those marked with the Deity’s blessing could protect humanity from falling into ruin, and here she was, going against her duty and bringing harm to the innocent.

Rana ignored the chill and pain in her dead heart. It was better if she never felt at all.

She crept over a fence and into a small garden. However, it was nothing spectacular, just a couple of unhealthy petals in sickly yellow lined up for a path of cracked stone leading to a modest dwelling. Whoever owned the property was wealthier than all of their neighbors. Still, it was nothing to gloat about and by standing out, it made the owner looked even vainer.

Rana strolled to the side of the house and pried open the window. It was locked but that was insufficient in stopping a marked one, even if they were only level one. She crawled through the small opening and landed in the kitchen. She sighed at the sight of smoked meat. If only there were livestock in this settlement she could’ve replenished some health points, if only a little.

For the past month, Rana lived like a starving monster. She went from settlement to settlement, scouring food whenever and wherever she could. The life essence within wild animals were few, but it was enough to sustain her journey and the damage she suffered during it.

However, her venture into this settlement had another objective.

She wandered in the dark for only a bit and she soon found the room she was looking for. The study of every merchant looked the same. There were documents stacked everywhere not occupied by other paperwork, and parchment paper could be seen stuffed into the opening of drawers. Huge books filled the shelves, each page most likely torn and kept in place by other pages and books. If she had time she would’ve loved to go over them, however, there were more pressing matters.

Rana found what she was looking for. It was a scroll of paper bound by red and tipped in obsidian, indicating its magical nature. She rolled open the scroll and smiled. It was a ward key and it allowed whoever possessing it to enter the warded gates of inner cities. With this, she would be closer to her goal.

There was a creak behind her and she spun around, her palm opened and mana generated within.

It was a child. He was no older than ten. His brown eyes stared at the intruder.

“Who are you?” he asked without a hint of fear on his freckled face.

She was quiet, her eyes examined the threat before her. What were the risks if she allowed the boy to know of this incident?

Rana quickly let the mana within her palm dissipate. She was ashamed to have treated the boy as a threat, even if only for an instant. What was worse, was she knew she deliberately avoided the much more horrifying idea.

“I am no one. Go to bed,” she replied as she walked past the child.

“You can’t go. That’s daddy’s,” the child stated after a moment. He was brave. He knew the intruder was larger than him but she took something away from his father. He had to protect it.

Rana was somehow warmed by the display. The world still had brave and pure souls, but this encounter might have lead to it getting crushed.

Her hostility flared and the boy’s eyes snapped wide, blinked, and teared up. Her killing intent, even if for only a moment, assaulted the child. He began to shiver as fear enveloped his body. The weak could do nothing but cower against the powerful. Their minds would be consumed by dread until nothing but a state of blank was left. The terror they felt during the moment, the chilling brush of death that stalked past them would forever haunt their souls.

The boy stood there and Rana exited the house as fast as she could. The boy’s crying could be heard in the distance behind her but she felt like tearing up herself.

She was disgusted at what she did.

She was disgusted by what she was capable of.

She was disgusted that she felt nothing at all.