Chapter 12: Save ourselves
Oswin's mind buzzed in pain, it was like a broken piece of glass scratching through his mind — jagged, cold, carving into the folds of his brain.
The pain flared sharp and sudden — foreign — but it faded quickly, leaving only a faint ache lingering in the hollow behind his skull.
Oswin had experienced this pain before.
The first time... the moment he had opened his eyes in this unfamiliar world, trapped in a stranger's body with memories that weren't his own.
It was the same pain — fleeting yet sharp — like something unseen had carved into his mind and left a scar behind just not as painful as before
Oswin focused on the thought it was A message.
Get away.
Away from the corpses. Away from the houses. Hide deep in water.
Open ground. No corpses in sight.
Six minutes.
Oswin's eyes flicked toward the cracked rear view mirror. The moss-clad corpses still chased behind — a scattered tide of writhing limbs and blank, hollow faces — but they were falling behind.
His heart thudded painfully against his ribs. His throat went dry.
He didn't want to believe it.
He didn't want to believe the message was coming from them.
Not the moss.
Could it be,
Whoever — whatever — had planted the message...
They were trying to help.
Oswin's heart thudded as he glanced down at Aria. The girl clutched the violin tightly, silver eyes flickering toward him with quiet fear — waiting for him to explain what she already knew.
"Aria, did you have a sudden thought about Water, Open ground, Six minutes?"
Aria's small fingers tensed around the instrument. She didn't speak — just gave a small, trembling hum and nodded.
Oswin's throat tightened.
He wasn't losing his mind.
Could it be the Authorities?
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
It must be them.
Are they going to clean the city?
If they were going to clean the city...
Fire.
It made sense.
They were going to burn the corpses — to stop the infection from spreading.
Oswin's heart thudded faster.
"But... no..." he muttered under his breath, mind racing.
He had seen the fires before — the building burning in neat, controlled flames — but the flames did not spread back then.
If the Authorities could control fire like that...
They wouldn't be worried about collateral damage.
But the corpses...
There were too many.
Hundreds, maybe thousands swarming through the streets. No matter how precise the Authorities were... there was no way to burn them all without letting the flames devour the entire city.
Is that the reason they warned us...
To get away from corpses... away from buildings... and find deep water or open ground.
Yes... that must be it.
Oswin's thoughts echoed through the fractured silence in his mind, the pieces clicking together like gears in a broken clock.
But…
The Authorities weren't saving anyone—
They were asking us to save ourselves before they scorch the city.
Oswin's fingers clenched tighter around the wheel, knuckles paling.
His chest heaved. The thought carried a cold relief — bitter, cruel, but relief nonetheless.
He glanced at Aria, clutching the instrument with both hands, her wide eyes flicking between him and the road.
What place could shield us best from the fire?
The pond behind the market — twenty meters across, shallow with murky waters barely reaching waist height it would be the best place to be safe from fire.
With that size, we could submerge ourselves without worrying about exposure or drowning. The stalls around it are scattered and low — flimsy wooden frames would burn fast but wouldn't trap heat long enough to make the area a furnace.
Four minutes.
If the roads stayed clear — if the automobile held together — they could make it in four minutes.
"Aria, we are driving to the pond behind the market!"
Oswin pressed the accelerator with excitement, bright hope, and joy — the engine snarled, and the vehicle surged forward.
***
"You feel better now, Martin?"
Martin's knuckles were still white around the trombone, but the tremor in his hands had stilled. His breath was heavy — uneven — but the worst of the fear had faded.
"Yes, Commander... I feel much better."
The blonde woman glanced around. The corpses encircled the square,slowly walking towards them. The flickering moonlight glistened against the damp moss clinging to their twisted limbs.
Her cold eyes narrowed.
"Our performance today has attracted quite an audience."
The black-haired woman, still tuning the banjo without sparing a glance, muttered under her breath.
"Take care, Altilis."
The blonde woman's face did not change, it was cold and emotionless as ever.
"I always do."
She unscabbarded her curved scimitar with a smooth motion — the blade glinting pale beneath the moon — and drew one of the two pistols from her belt.
"Martin... help me."
"Behind you, Captain."
Martin's voice brimmed with newfound excitement.
Altilis's eyes flicked toward him — just for a second — before she lunged into the crowd. Martin followed close behind.
They moved like phantoms — faster than any human should — the scimitar carving through moss-clad corpses as if slicing through butter, The slender curved swords cleaving through the horde with inhuman ease.
With every slash, the corpses erupted in bright orange flames emerging from the wounds spreading to the entire body rapidly, devouring flesh, moss, bones, hairs and bodily liquids in seconds, leaving behind nothing but blackened ash.
"The Blessing of the Fire Spirit on our new swords is really amazing... Ignis really did incredible work here."
His voice was light and more motivated than it was few minutes before
"Focus on extermination," Altilis's voice cut through the crackling flames.
"Yes, Captain."
They carved through the corpses in perfect rhythm — blade, flame, ash — never stopping, never slowing.
"Commander, this feels too easy... as if nothing is commanding these corpses. It is very unusual," Martin said between breaths, his sword cleaving through another corpse — white flames consuming it whole.
Altilis's scimitar slashed clean through three corpses at once — her movements precise, unhurried.
With inhuman speed — faster than the eye could follow — half of the hundreds of corpses were reduced to ashes within mere tens of seconds by just two people.
"It is indeed strange... seems like the hivemind that usually commands things like these isn't guiding the moss as of now," Altilis said, her voice calm but sharp.
Martin's blade carved through another corpse — flames devouring the moss-ridden body.
Martin's sword froze mid-swing — just for half a second.
"If it's not commanding them now... does that mean it already left the city? That... is very alarming."
He drove his blade through another corpse, forcing the sudden unease to the back of his mind.
The hivemind — the central will behind the moss — was what made the infection so dangerous. Without it, the corpses were nothing more than mindless husks, driven only by base instinct — as they were days ago.
But tonight...It had manifested.
It had guided the corpses — driven them like a single entity — tearing through the city with terrifying coordination.
And now...
It was gone again.
"Do you think it has left the city?" Martin asked, his voice low — cautious.
"Yes," Altilis answered without hesitation — her scimitar slicing through a corpse's neck. The body ignited in white flames.
"Most probably... it has already left the city."
"If it has escaped the city, then the performance today will have no effect on it," Martin said, his voice heavy with disappointment.
Altilis's scimitar sliced through another corpse — the flames reflecting in her cold green eyes.
"It won't," she agreed. "This mission will drag on for some time more."
Martin's grip on his sword tightened, frustration flickering beneath his breath.
"So, all this slaughter... just to cleanse the leftovers."
Altilis's gaze never wavered from the corpses.
"That's all we ever do, Martin."
"What was the point of causing all this mess?" Martin's sword cleaved through another corpse — the flames swallowing the husk whole.
Altilis didn't stop, her scimitar carving a blazing arc through the moss-covered bodies.
"We don't know."
The corpses were nearly all gone when a shadow loomed above.
With a sickening thud, something lunged down from the sky — a grotesque figure that crashed onto the cobblestone street. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath its weight.
It stood like a mantis — towering, grotesque — the size of a one-story building. But where hard carapace should have glistened beneath the moonlight, its entire body was a raw, pulsing mass of exposed flesh — red and slick, as if every inch of skin had been peeled away.
Not that mantises ever had skin to begin with.
The creature's body bore the unmistakable patterns of mammalian and reptilian musculature — thick bundles of sinew coiling beneath the glistening surface. Structures no insect should ever possess.
Six long, whip-like tendrils unfurled from its back — pale, fleshy stalks that writhed and twitched, dripping with red liquid. Each tipped with jagged bone-like claws.
And — unsurprisingly — patches of green moss clung to its body like a second skin, blooming from its limbs and skull. The infection had taken hold... but the twisted biology beneath was not entirely the moss's doing.
Martin's grin flickered, the shine in his eyes wavering between excitement and disgust.
"Seems like the Hive left us a little surprise."
Altilis twirled her scimitar, sending embers scattering through the air.
"It will be slightly problematic—"