Void Reaper: The Essence Apocalypse

Chapter 66 66: We just want to survive

Victor stared through the grimy window at the restaurant, where the group had just disappeared inside. He swallowed so loudly he heard it himself in the building's dead silence.

"What do we do?" he whispered, eyes locked on the street. "Arnold… what do we do?"

There was more fear than reason in his voice. Hunger made his hands tremble and his stomach cramp painfully, but his legs still felt like lead.

Arnold was about to answer when they both noticed it - the old man who'd been leaning on a cane stopped and lifted his head. His gaze swept slowly across the building's windows until it landed on the exact one they'd been watching from.

"Shit…" Victor hissed.

They both jerked away from the glass and pressed themselves to the wall, like taking a single step back could make them invisible. Victor's heart pounded so hard he was sure the old man could hear it.

Roland stood still for several seconds, eyes slightly narrowed, as if trying to pierce the dirty pane and the darkness inside. Then, seeing the rest of the team already entering the restaurant, he turned away calmly and followed them as if nothing had happened.

Silence settled over the building.

A minute passed. Maybe two.

Arnold slowly crept back to the window and peeked out, rising only enough to see a strip of street.

"They went inside," he said quietly. "All of them."

Victor was still by the wall.

"So what?"

Arnold stayed silent a moment, watching the movement near the restaurant entrance. Then he let out a heavy breath.

"I think… we should try to contact them."

"What?!" Victor almost shouted, forgetting the silence for a second. "Have you lost your mind?"

Arnold shot him a sharp look.

"Lower your voice."

Victor rubbed his face with a shaking hand.

"What if they're like Ragnar too?" he hissed. "What if they use their strength the same way? You saw what happened last time when we trusted the 'stronger' ones."

Even though Victor had been the one to ask what they should do, he hadn't actually wanted an answer that required movement. Deep down, he'd been hoping Arnold would say, We stay. We wait. Maybe it'll work out somehow.

But "somehow" didn't work anymore.

The last week had broken Victor more than he wanted to admit. Ragnar and his people - violence, coercion, women treated like commodities, men beaten for resisting - it had all sunk into his head like rust. Fear wasn't a momentary thing now.

It was constant.

Almost paralysis.

Hunger hurt. But fear was stronger.

Arnold hesitated when he heard him. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes too. He'd seen what blind faith in a "strong leader" could turn into.

But after a beat, he shook his head.

"I don't think that group is like Ragnar," he said firmly. "Did you notice it wasn't just one fighter? There were several. And that woman… the one with the ice… you saw what she could do."

Victor pressed his lips together, remembering the way she controlled ice.

"She looked… powerful," he admitted reluctantly. "The way she handled it… like it was nothing."

Arnold nodded.

"And you think someone like that would allow what Ragnar did? That whole swamp?" he asked quietly. "That didn't look like chaos. It was a formation. Protection. The weaker ones were in the middle."

Victor said nothing.

Seeing that the hesitation still didn't leave his friend's face, Arnold lowered his voice.

"Besides, if we don't go… we'll die here like starving dogs." His tone hardened. "And even if we don't starve - sooner or later one of those damn zombies will get in. And then we won't be able to do anything. At all."

The words hung heavy in the air.

Arnold rose slowly, dizziness washing over him from malnutrition. He had to brace himself on a table to keep from losing his balance, then started toward the busted doorway.

"If we're going to die," he said over his shoulder, "I'd rather at least try."

Victor stood frozen for a few more seconds. Fear squeezed his throat, his legs gone weak as water. But when he saw Arnold's back moving toward the exit, he clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

"Damn it…" he whispered.

Then he forced himself up and followed.

***

The restaurant looked like any place did a few days after order collapsed - overturned chairs, shattered plates, scuffs near the kitchen entrance where someone had fought, and a few dried streaks of blood on the tiles. Even so, the supplies were far better than anyone expected.

In the storage room behind the kitchen they found full sacks of pasta, flour, and rice; crates of potatoes; sealed cans of vegetables and meat; packs of bottled water and soft drinks. Some of the fridge contents had spoiled - meat that had thawed during power outages had begun to stink, and some vegetables were coated in a slimy layer of mold. But the dry goods had survived in surprisingly good condition.

"Take everything dry and sealed," Natalia instructed evenly as people began checking shelves. "Don't touch anything that smells."

Several students immediately started emptying the racks into backpacks and plastic bags. Adam helped them sort, constantly saying,

"Leave that…it's bad. Take that. That too."

Meat was trickier. There was still a lot in the freezers, but the fridge in their gym shelter was small and barely held their existing stock.

"No point taking it all," Marek muttered, lifting a heavy pack. "It'll just rot on us anyway."

In the end, they took only a few kilos of the best-looking pieces, hoping they could use them quickly. The rest had to stay.

After a dozen minutes they had a pile of backpacks and bags stuffed with food. The group began gathering to leave when Adam - standing near the door - froze.

"Hey…" he said quietly. "Other survivors."

A few meters away in the street stood two figures. Thin, clearly weakened, but alive.

Adam started toward them on instinct.

"Wait," Natalia snapped, catching his arm.

She gave a small shake of her head, then stepped a few paces out in front of the group herself. Her posture was straight, calm, her gaze cool and assessing.

"My name is Natalia," she said clearly. "Can you tell me who you are?"

Arnold swallowed. Up close, the group looked even more dangerous - several armed people, calm watchful eyes, and on the flanks, figures who were clearly used to fighting.

"I-I'm Arnold," he managed, stuttering slightly. "Third-year student… engineering faculty."

He could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on him. Some neutral. Some cold. Some openly distrustful.

Victor didn't say a word.

He just stared.

And he couldn't look away.

Up close, Natalia looked even less real than from a distance. Her light-blue hair fell over her shoulders, contrasting against skin that looked almost porcelain. A tight white suit traced every curve of her body with no mercy, and her icy, translucent heels made it look like she was standing on carved crystal.

Her face was cool, almost lofty - like an ice angel who'd descended to earth not to bless, but to judge.

Victor felt a strange warmth sweep through him. Hunger, weakness, dizziness - everything seemed to vanish for a second.

What a… beautiful woman… the thought drifted through his mind.

He was so dazed he didn't even register that Natalia had asked a question. He stood there like he'd been hypnotized, staring shamelessly with his mouth slightly open, as if he'd forgotten other people were watching.

Natalia noticed his gaze almost immediately.

It wasn't the first time someone had gotten lost in her looks. She'd been used to reactions like that for years. But in this new world - where fear, filth, and desperation were everyday life - that stare carried different weight. It wasn't just admiration anymore.

There was something hungry in it.

Almost desperate.

She lifted her chin slightly.

A subtle glint of pride - almost arrogance - appeared in her eyes.

And then Adam's voice cut through, cold as steel.

"Did your parents not teach you basic manners?"

The words sliced the air like a thin blade.

Victor flinched like he'd been slapped. The trance snapped instantly, replaced by shock and a sting of humiliation. He looked at Adam and met a hard, icy stare.

No joke.

No nervousness.

Just open hostility.

Leon, standing a few steps away, raised an eyebrow slightly as he watched the exchange.

So he can growl after all, Leon thought. The horny dog does have teeth when someone steps onto his territory.

Victor felt heat rush to his face.

"Sorry," he blurted quickly, clearing his throat. "I… didn't mean to offend anyone."

He lowered his eyes for a second, then pulled himself together.

"My name is Victor."

The atmosphere turned awkward. A few students exchanged looks. Someone let out a quiet snort of laughter that died quickly. Even Arnold looked like he wanted to vanish.

Leon broke the silence.

"So…" he began calmly, studying both men as if he were measuring them. "What do you want?"

He took a step forward.

"You came to us because you saw the fight? You want to join?"

Arnold and Victor looked at each other, startled.

"How did…" Victor started, then cut himself off.

Roland had mentioned earlier that someone was watching them from a nearby building window. No one had given it much weight at the time. Now the old man's words suddenly felt very real.

Leon flicked a glance toward Roland, who was leaning on his wooden cane like the entire situation had nothing to do with him. He looked bored - almost sleepy.

Arnold nodded first.

"That's right. We'd like to join your group."

He swallowed, but his voice steadied.

"We can't fight." He glanced at the armed evolvers. "But we can help. Carry food, equipment. Do anything that doesn't require direct combat."

He glanced at the people hauling backpacks stuffed with supplies.

Arnold was sharp. During the fight, he'd seen that only a few people were actually battling, while the rest stayed in formation. He'd quickly understood: not everyone in this group was a warrior - some had other roles.

So he offered the most sensible thing he could.

"We won't be a problem," he added more quietly. "We just want to survive."

Leon stayed silent for a moment, looking at them as if he were weighing their worth.

Then he nodded.

"Fine."

There was no enthusiasm in his voice - only a practical decision.

"As long as you're not leeches, you're welcome."

Victor let out a visible breath of relief.

Arnold did too, though uncertainty still lurked in his eyes.

Because in this world, being accepted wasn't enough.

You still had to prove you deserved your place in the pack.