Eater Blade: Grinding in Apocalypse

Behind them, the Tanker trudged in silence. His massive footsteps left shallow cracks in the broken ground, the weight of his armored form steady and unbothered.

Savier glanced back at him. "You sure bringing rockbutt here is smart? He's like a beacon for every Eater in ten clicks."

Johnquis smirked. "Let them come. More Eaters, more drops. You want that duel to mean something? Help me farm."

Savier groaned. "Farming with you is like jogging with a guy who thinks stairs are cardio. You don't stop."

"Because I'm not just grinding," Johnquis said. "I'm preparing."

He stepped over a collapsed support beam and paused checking the surrounding.

"If I enter Middleland without full stock, I'm as good as dead. I need everything I can carry and then some."

"Y'know," Savier said, walking beside him now, "you make prepping for hell sound like doing groceries."

Johnquis chuckled. "It's basically the same thing. Except the aisles try to eat you."

They kept walking, slower now, more alert. Shadows moved in the ruined buildings but for now, nothing lunged. Nothing screamed.

Johnquis suddenly stopped in front of a half-collapsed military van. He knelt down, pried open a locked hatch and pulled out a glowing loot bag.

"One down," he said, holding it up with a grin.

Savier nodded, eyes scanning the corners. "Let's make it ten before sundown. And maybe not die horribly."

Johnquis stood and looked at him. "Deal. And Savier?"

"Yeah?"

Johnquis gave a half-smile. "Thanks for coming with me. I know this isn't your fight yet."

Savier shrugged, trying to act cool. "Hey. Someone's gotta make sure you don't trip over your own ego."

The Tanker grunted, loud and amused.

Johnquis laughed, shaking his head. "Let's keep moving. The clock's ticking."

As the two walking, deeply oberving the surround if there's any loot bag. Johnquis lifted a hand, signaling for a stop.

Ahead, the street split. One path led into a crumbled overpass with an overturned truck blocking part of the way. The other dropped down into a subway entrance swallowed by shadow.

Johnquis squinted. "Upper or lower?"

Savier looked between them, then down at the dark hole. "Man… I hate stairs."

Johnquis didn't answer. He just gripped his blade tighter and started toward the shadowed stairs.

Savier sighed and followed. "Yep. Idiots. Definitely idiots."

And the Tanker walked in after them, without a word.

They moved carefully, keeping low and quiet. The sky had gone murky—clouds bleeding into the dusk. Eater time was coming. Still, Johnquis pressed forward, eyes sharp, blade at the ready. Savier, meanwhile, kept scanning rubble for the glint of loot bags like a kid searching for candy.

A few minutes passed. Nothing but rusted cars, half-crushed fences, and broken stone.

Then Johnquis stopped.

He crouched low near a jagged trail of cracked ground, studying the splatter of dark stains—violet blood, thick and dry. Nearby, pieces of shattered metal and carbon composite were half-buried in the dirt.

"Wreckage," Johnquis muttered. "Coffin must've dropped here."

Savier's eyes lit up. "Yes! A coffin means… my classmate is here!"

He sprinted ahead without waiting for an answer. "Man, if this is who I think it is... I knew everyone in my batch. I was the guy. The glue. The party starter. Friend of all, rival of none…except maybe two."

Johnquis sighed and jogged after him. "Savier, slow down. Don't get careless."

But it was too late. Savier already gone. Johnquis moved after him, hand near his Eater Stone, watching the buildings and broken windows.

Savier skidded to a stop just a few feet from the pod. His body went stiff.

Johnquis caught up behind him, saw the open coffin and froze too.

They both had reached the impact zone. A cracked, half-buried Eater Blade coffin lay tilted against a tree. Its hatch had been torn open…not pried, not unlocked. Torn. Bent metal curled outward like flower petals, and the seal was ripped from the inside.

Savier stood there. Frozen. His voice, when it came, was small.

"…I know her."

Johnquis stepped up beside him. The interior of the coffin was dark, soaked in blood. Deep gashes marred the inside. Claw marks. Strips of flesh still clung to the cracked restraints. The girl inside hadn't gotten out.

She'd been eaten inside the pod.

Johnquis muttered, "Didn't even make it to the ground."

He stepped closer, silent.

"…She didn't even get a chance," Savier muttered.

His usual sarcasm was gone, just quiet now, like something heavy had landed in his chest.

He turned his head a little, his voice lower. "I knew her. Isla. She used to sneak extra rations to trainees who couldn't keep up. Always smiling. We used to call her 'Sunny.'"

He took a step back. "We trained our whole lives for this. All of us."

Johnquis didn't reply.

Savier looked at him, eyes low, jaw tight. "You ever wonder if any of this even works? Suit up, train, drop… And still die before you get to swing your blade once?"

Johnquis gave a small nod. "I wonder every day."

Savier kicked a stone. "Hell of a welcome to the apocalypse."

Johnquis stepped forward, kneeling in the crushed grass. He picked up a small stone—her Eater Stone. Dim, but still intact.

He held it out.

Savier stared at it for a long second before taking it. He knelt beside the body, gently pressing the stone into Isla's open hand.

They stood in silence. Behind them, the Tanker loomed, watching silently.

A long moment passed. Wind whistled through the broken frame of a nearby billboard.

Savier didn't move. Still staring at Isla.

Johnquis stepped back, scanning the rooftops. "We need to go."

Savier didn't move.

Johnquis grabbed his shoulder, firm. "Savier."

He turned, jaw tight. "I know. Just… I really liked her. Not like that—she was just… good. You know? One of the few."

Johnquis met his eyes. "Then make it mean something."

Savier gave a faint nod, forced his hands to stop shaking, and turned away from the coffin.

They walked in silence, leaving the ruined drop behind.