Smoke, ash, and dust. Each of these forces work to choke the life out of an already dead city. Thirty-three years ago, children would have walked the street, giggling as their parents watched on, cars and cabs racing down the streets as their inhabitants continued their life– now a fleeting dream. The smell of wafting gasoline has vanished, given way to the foul stench of burning rubber, a hint of rot, and pulverized cement. Corner shops now sit as husks, all devoid of the life they once had— all shelves looted for everything they can offer. The smooth streets have given way to loose gravel, asphalt, and shattered glass with broken down cars dotting every corner of the roads. Worst of all is the choking smog: a thick, permeating mix of dust, decay, and death. Trees, grass, and weeds? Unseen anywhere near this place since the Phenomenon, it's overwhelming density of it blocks any vision within a twenty foot range. Skyscrapers, clouds, and the sun blotted out, the world below dark as night.

CRUNCH… CRUNCH… CRUNCH…

The crunching of gravel against boot sounds throughout the streets, the loose rocks sliding beneath those who dare walk across them. Four figures are on their way, taking shape in a distinct diamond pattern. Three of the four wear a sort of gas mask that covers from their chin to their forehead, the outlier in the front having his shirt pulled over his nose. Said outlier coughs, sputtering as he waves some pungent, dense smog away from his face. The effort proves futile as his coughing grows violent, the collar of his shirt falling from his face as he catches his breath.

“Damned city… Damned Demons… Damned smog…” He mutters to himself, his face scrunching up. He adjusts his thick, padded shirt, the action shifting the similarly colored high caliber vest as well. He takes a look to his left to focus on one of his party members– a slim woman with long, strawberry blonde hair pooling out of a deep green hood fused to an equally long green cloak that drags against the floor. Most of her body is concealed, though she has a sense of agility, a sort of mousy quality that hints at her speed. Her head flicks from side to side, vigilant in her task, like she’s peering through the smog. The man calls out in a booming voice, his voice echoing off the buildings “Aye, Jessica! You see anybody?”

The woman known as Jessica whips her head around, her eyes wide as she points a thin, compact bow at him. The slim wood bends in the blink of an eye, the string already pulled back with an arrow cleanly knocked, ready to fire at any moment. It takes her a moment to realize her mistake before she slowly eases the grip, putting the arrow back in her quiver as she responds between deep, shaking breaths. “N-no, Alexis. Nothing yet…”

Alexis nods slowly, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks around himself. “Demons?”

“N-No.” She responds, her hands fidgeting together.

“Not one?” He questions further, his face falling, the next answer expected.

“I-I think it would take a miracle for anything to survive this place…”

“Hellfire’s gotta be fucking with us.” Alexis draws out, running a hand across his face as he groans. This was proving to be a bigger pain than he thought. It was bad enough that this had to be the mission he was assigned to, but it was also what dictated his future– his team's future. It was simple on paper, but almost impossible in practice, and that was to find a human in this place in a week. That didn't mean anyone is alive in this damn place per se, it just means you have to stay in this damn place for a seven whole days. Not only was it impossible, but it was easily the most dangerous test for the prerequisite testing; worse yet, it was the newest, meaning there were almost no tips to be shared by older members. It’d be a miracle if anything could live out here, including them. He pulls the collar of his shirt down for just a moment so he can spit on the floor, on Hellfire for making this his final mission, and for Micah for making this mission in the first place; though, it's for a bit too long as he erupts into a fit of coughs as he gets a noseful of the smog.

A tap comes into contact with Alexis’ right shoulder. He turns his head, his eyebrow cocking high as a hand suddenly extends, a gas mask firmly gripped within. The young man holding said mask looks him in the eye with exasperation laced concern as he pokes Alexis with the mask once again, shoving it against his cheek.

“Take it, man. You’re being noble when you’re the last person who should be," Says the young man, his voice belying his worry as he looks at Alexis’ weathered face. “Especially with your shot lungs-.”

Alexis suddenly bursts out into a fit of boisterous laughter, enough to shake Ean to the bone as the larger man begins pushing the mask back to the young man, a small smirk on his face as he pats his chest. “I'm fine, Ean. Lungs’ll be the last thing that kills me. You worry about yourself, and I’ll worry about me.”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Ean mutters under his breath; though, he relents as he quickly places the gas mask back on his face, his coughing slowly coming to an end. He reaches to run a hair through his raven hair. They'd been walking for longer than he cared for. Suddenly, a loud clap rings out as a hand impacts against Ean's back, stumbling before he throws his arms out, stopping himself halfway down.

The suspect of the “attack” quickly snakes their arms behind their back, whistling as they try to suppress the wry smile growing across their covered face. They turn their head to the left as a melodic whistle pierces the boot crunching silence, a tune any Hellfire member has heard. Ean slowly turns around, walking backwards to face the young woman, her composure barely maintained as he, in turn, barely contains the little composure he has left.

“Something funny?” He inquires, his eyebrow twitching.

“Nope.” She responds, the corners of her lips quivering up violently

“Oh really?” He says, looking to the arm snaked behind her back.

“Mhm…” She nods quickly, pushing her arm just a bit further behind herself.

“You’re going with that?” He inquiries.

“Yup!” She nods again, her voice cracking as she suppresses a laugh that threatens to peel from her mouth.

“You’re a jerk, Olivia.”

Olivia can’t help but let a smile spread across her face, a chuckle of pure, melodic mirth escape her lips. She turns a shining eye to him, her arms raising in front of her in a placating gesture, the chuckles still peeling from her lips as she speaks.

“Sorry, sorry! It was right there, though!” She laughs as a teasing lilt drips into her voice, her fingers curling up to resemble claws, “I mean… What if I was an evil demon?”

Ean scoffs, his own arms crossing as he speaks, “If you were a demon, I’d be dead and it’d be your fault for being a bad watch.”

“What about Jessica n’ Alexis?!” Olivia inquires, her tone full of accusation. Not an unwarranted accusation, but accusation nonetheless.

“Jessica isn't asking the dumb question.” Ean shoots back, a hint of teasing entering his own voice.

“Wow. Playing favorites? That cuts deep, Ean. That cuts deept.” Olivia jabs, rolling her eyes as her eyes scan over the city, returning to her vigil job of scanning.

Ean smirks as he turns on his heel, gravel crunching beneath his boot due to the bit of extra pizazz he put into the turn. In this verbal jousting match, he had come out on top in his mind. Its a game they play, seeing how they can spin an argument in their favor in their verbal tug of war. Somehow, this combination of people clawed their way to this… Right at the edge of initiation into the Hellfire Initiative. For people like him, people who sought fortune, power, and adventure, the Initiative was one of the only “real” options. Two years of fighting, climbing, and hard work had landed them here– the cusp of being considered a “Z” team, gaining their letter grade. Ean and his group were considered a top tier "Unranked" team, on their way to gaining their ticket to the big leagues: A Synth Weapon.

Ean looks down, digging in his left pant pocket. His hand grips onto something metal, his hand digging out a mechanical pocket watch. He flips it open, his eyes locking on the small, brown monitor with its bold, black letters. 12:26 AM. He looks up to the smoggy sky... He couldn't even tell. He yawns, stretching his arms as far as his joints would allow. They’ve been searching all day. He hopes, at least, they can find a building in here that has a few clean beds; though, he’s not getting his hopes up. With how this place is? He'd be lucky to get a single wink of sleep.

“Tired…-” Ean mumbles to himself before he has to stop, a light penetrating his closed lids. He has to turn his head away, wincing. It's like the sun shining right in his face on the brightest of days. But that can't be right, the sun isn’t visible out here, even during peak afternoon hours. He stumbles a bit, his hand coming up the shield the light.

Thump…

Ean comes to a halt as he bumps into Alexis’ back. He stumbles for a moment, throwing his arms out to avoid falling. He looks toward Alexis, completely and utterly disoriented by the assault on his senses.

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Ean growls through the pain as he tries his hardest to regain control of his vision. His eyes begin to flutter open, still having to squint to make anything out. A myriad of insults die on his tongue as he looks at Alexis, an expression he rarely sees on the older man's face evident, one that activates his own fight or flight.

Fear.

Ean slowly looks around to Olivia, then to Jessica. Both of them are standing completely still, looking up to the blinding light with a mix of fear and wrapped attention. They weren't moving an inch, their mouths moving with empty words.. Ean turns his head to the light, his mind screaming to do anything else, but his body wasn't listening. The light shines ever brighter, the horrid visage of whatever this creature was getting closer and closer. This was no sun, and it was no moon, it was something far worse.

A demon towers over them, a colossus of stature that pierces far above the highest reaches of their vision. It seems to be made of some sort of chitinous material, a red that gives it the appearance of brick. Thousands of small eye stalks flit around its body, that ethereal light shining from higher up than any of them can see. Beneath it lay four long, silvery legs that dig into the floor, rending the ground apart as it moves, creating thin, long divots in the floor.

Ean hears the scraping of its legs approaching, panic blossoming in his chest. Close, closer, and closer it comes, an arbiter of death, a sign of their encroaching demise. Ean's mind runs a million miles per minute. Was this the end, in some abandoned city where his body would rot, never to be seen again? His teammates aren't moving, entranced by the light and their own fear, and he finds himself called by the bright light as well. He slowly closes his eyes, a whimper escaping his lips as he gives himself over to it. Everyone’s life comes to an end, quicker in the Initiative. He just wishes he could live a bit longer, long enough to see him and his friends become a team.

How he wishes that dream could be reality.