Absolute instinct

if it's not human... then what is it? Darian thought, the question gnawing at him as he stared at the now-silent communication device. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications of that distorted voice. But the uncertainty of the message couldn't hold him for long. He refocused, grounding himself in the immediate priorities.

Whatever it is, for now, we focus on survival. Not the survival of humanity as a whole, but the survival of the people we can still save. He steeled himself, his mind settling on a singular goal. If the City of Survivors is real, then we need to get there. We need information—anything that could help us understand what's happening to the world, and how we can fight it.

With a deep breath, he turned away from the device and gave his orders. "Prepare to leave the camp," he said, his voice steady and resolute. "We're heading out to investigate the City of Survivors. Gather all the materials we'll need—jeeps, rations, weapons, and fuels. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

The members of his team nodded, their expressions hardening with resolve. Darian could feel the weight of his words pressing on them, but they didn't flinch. They were survivors, each of them strong in their own way. And now, they had a mission.

Then, Darian turned to Zanebrookes, the equipment tech developer. "How many days will it take to get to that location?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Zanebrookes looked at the maps, calculating quickly. "It will take at most one week, sir," he replied, his voice confident yet measured.

"Okay," Darian said, nodding in approval. "Then find the places near our route where there could be possible survivors. We'll gather them as we go. Keep your eyes peeled, and be prepared to make contact if we find any signs of life."

Zanebrookes nodded, already turning to map out the possible routes. He knew that gathering more survivors along the way could prove vital to their success.

Over the next two days, the camp buzzed with frantic activity. The survivors worked tirelessly to prepare for the journey ahead. Rathar and his team fine-tuned their weapons, making sure every tool was in peak condition. Alice Kane refined the maps, marking potential hazards and areas of interest. Zanebrookes worked on enhancing the vehicles and tech, ensuring that the equipment would hold up during the journey.

Kai Serrano and the rest of the deployment team worked on reinforcing the supplies. They gathered additional materials, constructed makeshift shelters, and double-checked their gear for anything that might be needed on the road. Every member of the group had a role, and they executed it with precision.

As the day of departure drew closer, Darian stood in the heart of the camp, watching the preparations unfold. A sense of quiet determination washed over him. They had come this far, and now, they were about to take a leap into the unknown.

The morning of their departure arrived, and the camp was eerily still. The survivors, packed and ready, stood in silent formation, each of them carrying the weight of the journey ahead.

Darian surveyed the group once more, his eyes scanning each face. There was fear, yes—but it was tempered with resolve. They were ready.

"We move out at dawn," he said, his voice carrying across the group. "Stay sharp. This is only the beginning."

With that, they began their trek, leaving behind the fragile safety of their camp and stepping into the uncertainty of a world that had been forever changed.

---

As they drove forward, Darian asked, "Where is the nearest possible place where survivors could be?"

Zanebrookes responded, "It will take about 8 hours, or we'll reach it by evening."

Darian nodded, then turned to the rest of the group. "Okay, we head there."

The group moved forward, covering the distance efficiently. After 4 hours, Darian spoke again. "Stop here, Zanebrookes. We're in an area with a heavy presence of monsters."

Zanebrookes pulled over, and the group disembarked. Darian looked around, then addressed the team. "Now, listen up. I've been teaching you various survival techniques. We are going to refine your weapons, using the vital force to enhance their power. By placing the force at the tip of the blade or edge, you will enhance its lethality. This applies to all of you, from Elementalists to Healers, and the way you use it depends on your abilities."

For the next two hours, the group practiced the technique, refining their weapons and learning how to channel their vital force into combat. During this time, they fought monsters in the area, adapting to the new methods Darian was teaching them. The fight was intense, and Darian saw their skills improving quickly. It wasn't just the techniques that were changing; it was their mentality. They followed his orders without hesitation, reacting instinctively to his commands, as if they had always trusted him to lead them.

After the two-hour training session, Darian addressed the group again. "I didn't teach you this before because your vital forces were not strong enough. But now, after days of training and fighting, your combined strength—your force, your healing, your strategy—has grown. That's why I'm teaching you these techniques now."

As he spoke, Darian couldn't help but notice how the group had started to adopt an unspoken rhythm. They had become a unit, not just in their actions but in the way they looked to him for guidance. They weren't just listening to him—they were trusting him.

He paused, surveying the group. "Does anyone have any questions?"

"No, sir. We believe in you, sir," the group replied in unison, their voices firm and steady.

Darian didn't acknowledge it at first, but there was something in the way they said it, something that seemed almost natural. The word "sir" wasn't something he had ordered, but it had slipped out so effortlessly that it felt like they had always called him that. It was subtle, but Darian couldn't ignore it. Whatever it was, they trusted him, and that was enough.

With that, Darian gave the order to move forward, but instead of immediately resuming their journey, Darian turned back to Zanebrookes and asked, "How much time until we reach the survival place?"

Zanebrookes quickly checked his equipment. "We've fastened our speed a bit," he replied. "We should reach the area in about three hours. Even after the time spent on training, we'll get there a bit faster."

Darian nodded, then turned to his team. "Alright, stay sharp. We'll reach the area soon. Be ready for anything."

The team prepared themselves, a quiet anticipation in the air as they all knew that the next three hours could change everything.

And as the clock ticked on, they continued their journey, unaware of what awaited them.

As the jeep sped through the winding roads, the rumbling of engines drowned out the distant sound of something more ominous—something that

moved quickly in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.