The night was dark; the moon was hidden.
On the other side of the famous Teal City turn—the western gateway—stood a hooded figure.
Their camouflage was impeccable. The shade of the night mirrored the shade of their hoodie, boots, and pajamas.
Looking at the horde of beasts that littered the route, the person seemed to hesitate.
Their palms were sweaty, their arms like spaghetti.
But after a period of deliberation, they clenched their fists tight.
Huuu...
The person breathed out fog and, longingly, looked back one last time.
Gazing, they muttered under their breath,
"... Best of luck, Zaire. Hopefully, you get my message. And hopefully, we meet again... No, we will meet again. Hang in there."
A small smile hung on the person's face, followed by an expression of resolve.
Without hesitation, they walked toward the horde—toward Teal City.
The ever-vigilant beasts seemed to ignore this person. Though the figure was visibly shivering, they marched forth fearlessly.
The shivering subsided as the frothing beasts never seemed to catch their scent.
Their walk became confident. Surely, after about ten minutes of maneuvering, they were out of the horde.
That person was Nala Von Naisom, and she had successfully made her way into Teal City.
*****
Nala was panicked.
Her chest ached horribly, but she was running desperately.
The fear she felt for Zaire overshadowed her own pain.
"BRIGHT. HUT. SEAN..."
She shouted the names of her fellow survivors who had accompanied her and Zaire today.
Veins bulged, her face tinted bright red. Nala looked horrible, but she couldn't care less.
She was about to lose her new friend—her only one. And she wasn't about to let that happen.
As Nala rushed down the stairs, she bumped into the trio, who were rushing upward.
Each of their faces was dark. Concern was evident.
"Calm down, Nala. What the fuck happened?"
Bright questioned hurriedly.
Gasping hard, Nala muttered,
"We need to help Zaire right now. Follow me."
She didn't wait for their response. She immediately turned and dashed upward.
She had done her job to inform. If they came, they came. She was going regardless.
The three men looked at each other.
They wryly smiled, and Bright made the call.
"Let's follow her."
What Nala saw when she returned absolutely crushed her.
Zaire lay broken in a pool of blood. Above him was the spine-chilling beast.
"No, no, no, no, no..."
Muttering no's incessantly, Nala hurried over and immediately started pulling at the beast.
It was disgusting and incredibly heavy, yet Nala paid no heed.
She couldn't move the beast—maybe an inch, but that was all she could do.
Still, she didn't give up.
She kept pulling on its leg.
"What on earth is that!"
Bright was horrified.
What the fuck is that? And how the fuck is it dead?
It took the three men a moment to regain their senses.
Questions of all sorts floated in their minds, but they pushed them aside for now.
Finally, with the combined strength of the four, Zaire's body was recovered.
*****
The SUV was currently en route back to their base.
Sean drove the car. Bright sat in the passenger seat. Hut sat alone in the second row. Zaire lay in the back, head on Nala's lap.
The car was silent.
Bright was conflicted.
What he'd seen in room 511 was dead. Yet its corpse terrified him.
And Zaire had killed it.
What the fuck is Zaire, then? How strong is he? And why did he hide information about his strength this much? Isn't everybody transparent to Sir Messiah? Is Zaire a bad apple?... No, maybe he wasn't asked about his strength... Maybe he evolved during this excursion...
Nala, too, had thoughts swirling in her head.
She lightly caressed Zaire's head while looking out the car window.
Wind hit her face; her hair danced.
What will happen now?... Whatever it is, I have to be preemptive.
Nala had gotten her 100th kill just moments ago.
She and Bright had been responsible for clearing the way while Sean and Hut carried Zaire back to the car.
And she was pleasantly surprised by her skill.
She had always been the quiet sort.
Her family life had been hard.
Her father was a precious pookie bear—the best dad! Yet her mother had cheated on him.
The depression he went through after the news broke, and in the years that followed, crushed her.
She never could make friends.
She had an ailing grandfather and now, a hurt father.
It was hard. Life sucked! Yet she persisted.
She learned to go unnoticed and hated connecting with people. After all, connecting brought a new, increased reliance on someone who, if they hurt her—or even themselves—became another burden to add to her checklist.
She grew up when she shouldn't have.
She didn't regret it, because she loved her father. She just learned to be more concrete about things.
Zaire was different.
He was a change in her life.
Well, 'the life' itself was the biggest change. But, regardless, he was just her total opposite.
She was decisive; he was this indecisive mess.
She saw black and white; he saw only gray.
She grieved harder and recovered quickly; he grieved longer and recovered slowly.
She was quiet; he was chatty.
Yet she liked him.
He was good.
He went out of his way to help her.
Not once. Not twice. Not three times. Four times.
Zaire understood that he could never understand her. Yet he tried his best to make this fucked-up situation tolerable for her.
She looked back at Zaire, who lay with eyes closed.
Smiling, she whispered,
"Bitch, it's my time to save you, I guess."