Eater Blade: Grinding in Apocalypse

Night had fallen.

The ruins of Sector 6 lay behind them, hushed and ghostlike. A cold wind blew across the shattered buildings as the trio moved through the wreckage. Quiet and steady, their packs now full.

Johnquis rolled his shoulder, adjusting the weight of his gear. "Alright… that's it. Full load. Should be enough to last me three months in the Middleland."

Savier looking at the loots. "Three months of not dying. You're practically living the dream."

Johnquis gave a tired smile. "I don't plan on dying, Savier."

The Tanker trudged beside them, his silent form dragging a massive scav bag behind him like it weighed nothing.

Savier looked over at the hulking shape. "This guy pulled more loot out of the ground than both of us combined. Seriously. Can I trade him for a shovel next time?"

Johnquis chuckled. "He is the shovel."

They climbed over the final rise of concrete and rebar. Ahead, the old bridge stretched out across the bay—the path back to safe territory. Moonlight glinted off the wet rails and cracked pillars. One more mile and they were clear.

Johnquis looked out over the water. "You did good, Savier."

Savier yawned, stretching. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm amazing when I'm emotionally unstable."

Johnquis snorted. "Whatever works."

They started walking.

Johnquis glanced over at Savier as they walked. His friend's eyes weren't on the path—they were far away, still back at the ruined coffin.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Savier didn't answer right away. He gave a little shrug, like he wasn't sure how to put it into words.

"I know death's normal here," he finally said. "But it still messes me up when it's a girl. Especially one like her. She didn't deserve that. No one does."

Johnquis nodded slowly. "Yeah… I get that. You've always had a soft spot."

Savier sighed. "Guess I never grew out of it."

For a while, there was only the sound of their boots crunching over gravel.

Johnquis looked ahead, then spoke again, voice lower. "You know… when I first dropped, I was lucky. Real lucky. My pod landed in Sector 1—barely any Eater activity."

Savier glanced at him.

"Thing is… I was too weak back then to leave. Couldn't handle even one step into Sector 2. I'd get swarmed. That place became my home not by choice, but by survival."

Savier stayed quiet.

Johnquis continued, "You remember how everyone at school used to complain about how boring and hard training was? How the drills were brutal, how the instructors pushed too hard?"

Savier gave a dry laugh. "Yeah. We thought we had it bad."

"Out here," Johnquis said, "I'd kill to go back to that. Out here, one mistake isn't a fail grade—it's a grave."

Savier's jaw tightened. "I just… I wish I could've helped Isla. Or at least seen her again, y'know?"

Johnquis stopped walking and faced him. "Listen, man. We can't save everyone. I wish we could. But out here, you've gotta take care of yourself first. If you fall, you save no one. No one at all."

Savier looked away, biting his cheek.

Johnquis touched his shoulder. "But if you live—really live, push forward, grow strong—you can make sure someone else makes it. That's how we make it matter."

Savier let the words settle for a moment. Then gave a faint nod. "Yeah… okay. I hear you."

They walked a bit more, slower now. The city stretched out ahead, the bridge glinting in the moonlight like a path home.

Then—

A scream.

A sharp, panicked scream from nearby. Female. Full of fear. It ripped through the night like a blade.

All three of them stopped. The sound echoed through the ruins behind them—somewhere back in the shadows of Sector 6.

Savier's head snapped toward it instantly. His heart dropped. He knew that voice.

"That voice… that's her."

Johnquis looked at him. "You know who that was?"

Savier's fists clenched. "Yeah. That exact scream."

He turned around, already running.

"I'm not letting another one die. Please—be alive."

"Savier—!" Johnquis shouted after him.

He glanced at the crumbling bridge nearby. One more step, and he'd cross into the Middleland, toward the zone where his sister was.

But…

He turned back. Savier was already disappearing into the dark.

Night was out.

Eaters were starting to crawl.

"Shit… This man always runs headfirst into hell. And me? I always have to make sure he stays alive."

His jaw tightened. "Dammit, SAVIER!"

Johnquis took off after him.

Johnquis ran after him and The Tanker let out a low grunt and thundered forward too, his massive feet cracking the road as he followed.

They ran back into the dark.

Toward the scream.

The ruins blurred around them as the boys moved.

Johnquis led the way, feet pounding against cracked stone and rusted metal, cape flaring behind him. He vaulted over a burned-out vehicle, planted a boot on the hood, and launched himself onto a dangling support beam overhead. The world narrowed into sharp breaths, rushing air, and the rhythm of pursuit.

Savier wasn't far behind, more reckless in form but just as fast. He sprinted up a tilted slab of concrete, kicked off a half-crushed balcony, and rolled as he landed on a broken scaffold beside Johnquis.

"Keep up," Johnquis called, breath steady.

Savier grunted, "I'm already ahead of you—in spirit."

Behind them, the Tanker moved like a runaway freight train—no grace, just brute force. Walls cracked under his weight. Rusted fences tore apart as he bulldozed straight through what the others leapt over. He didn't dodge debris…he ignored it.

Johnquis leapt across a ten-foot gap between rooftops, landed with a slide, then rolled to his feet and ran again. He grabbed a rusted pipe, swung around it, and kicked through a boarded window to drop into the lower level of a ruined tower.

Savier followed with less finesse, smashing through the window frame and tumbling into a roll beside him.

They burst out the far side of the tower, now sprinting down a narrow alleyway of tilted metal and leaning rubble. The scream came again—closer now.

"That's really her…"