Shredica’s POV
I had this unsettling sense that who I was now wasn’t truly the same person I used to be. My memories felt like they belonged to someone else, as if they were artificially constructed. Yet, despite this dissonance, it didn’t seem to trouble me as much as I’d expect.
I woke up, my gaze fixed on the expanse of blue sky above. The gentle roar of the aircraft carrier slicing through the air was a comforting hum, while the rotors’ soft whirring created a serene, almost hypnotic backdrop. The cold surface beneath me pressed pleasantly against my back, and I felt a profound sense of relaxation. I closed my eyes again, letting the tranquility wash over me.
“Shredica.” A voice sliced through my haze from above. I blinked open my eyes to see a face blocking the sky, its shadow falling across my face like a heavy curtain. “Are you just going to lie here while we’re strategizing our approach for the fourth area?” she demanded. “We’ve been holed up in the planning room, debating every detail of our next move, and you’re just sprawled out, drifting off. Are you so sure we’ll crush this campaign like we did the last one that you can’t be bothered?”
I rolled onto my side, shutting my eyes once more.
“Don’t ignore me!” she snapped, her voice piercing through the haze.
I pressed my hands over my ears, trying to block her out.
“I said don’t ignore me.”
With a resigned sigh, I shifted onto my back and met her gaze, her eyes sharp and unwavering.
“I won’t stop bothering you until you stop ignoring me,” she said firmly.
Another heavy sigh escaped me. “I don’t want to go. I just want to rest.”
“Just because you’re the strongest among us doesn’t give you the privilege to laze around like this,” she huffed, her irritation clear. “If you keep slacking, I might just surpass you as the strongest. My kill count is almost as high as yours now.”
“I don’t mind if you take it from me,” I said, meeting her gaze. “As long as I’m part of this battle, that’s all I care about.”
“You really are heartless for a human, aren’t you?” she taunted, her smirk widening as if she’d just won a major victory. “But then again, that’s only natural. You’ve been subjected to experiments since birth and never known human love, unlike me, who’s been showered with it.”
That’s right. I had memories of that, didn’t I? As a child, I’d faced countless deadly situations. I was raised as a soldier, someone trained to take down anything that crossed my path.
“If you keep this up, you’ll stay a virgin forever, you know?” she said with a mischievous grin. “I’m sure your weapons won’t be able to keep your nights warm forever.” She paused, then turned away, her voice dropping to a whisper that I could still clearly hear, “I’m not that different, though…”
With that, she walked off, leaving me with her words echoing in my mind.
“Warmth, huh?” I thought, feeling a vague sense of familiarity, but I couldn’t quite place it.
***
The fourth area.
It was a bleak, desolate expanse, littered with the skeletal remains of once-bustling buildings and tangled wrecks of vehicles strewn haphazardly across the road and corners. This was our battleground for the day: to purge the Demon Zombies and Demon Monsters. It was the fourth campaign in our relentless struggle to reclaim the main islands.
I trudged down the empty street, the echoing crunch of debris beneath my boots mingling with the haunting silence. The other three women flanked me, including the one who had just spoken to me.
“Keep your eyes peeled. An infected could be hiding around any corner,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding. She carried herself like a seasoned commander, though I wasn’t sure if she officially held that position. I had no intention of following her orders without question.
As we moved cautiously through the debris-strewn streets, I couldn’t help but notice the tension in the air. Every shadow and rustling sound set our nerves on edge. The woman who had taken charge kept glancing around, her eyes sharp and scanning every corner for potential threats.
One of the other women, her face partially obscured by a helmet, broke the silence. “Do you really think this area will be as bad as the last one?”
The woman in charge glanced at her, her expression unreadable. “Every area is different. We’ve had to adapt to each one. Don’t let your guard down just because the last area was cleared quickly.”
The third woman, who hadn’t spoken yet, whispered, “I’ve heard rumors that this area is crawling with stronger demons. We need to be extra careful.”
I stayed silent, my attention split between the conversation and the eerie stillness of our surroundings. The constant threat of an ambush was palpable, and the faint, distant groans of demons only heightened the sense of urgency.
The woman in charge turned back to me, her gaze penetrating. “You’re awfully quiet. Anything to say?”
I met her stare, unflinching. “Just trying to focus on not getting killed.”
She smirked, a glint of something dark in her eyes. “Good. Because that’s exactly what you should be doing. Stay sharp, and we’ll get through this.”
Three hours later.
“Why is it so eerily quiet here?” one of the women asked, her voice laced with apprehension.
“Something doesn’t add up…” the one in command replied, her gaze piercing through the unnerving stillness. “According to the report, this area should be crawling with demons. So why is it so damn peaceful?” She turned her sharp eyes toward me, as if I might have an answer.
I was just as clueless. This was my first visit to this area, and I’d heard the same alarming reports about it being overrun with demons. The question gnawed at me too.
“Well, I suppose it makes our job easier,” she said, though her words felt hollow against the backdrop of the unsettling calm.
That night, I kept practicing, each gunshot tearing through the silence, the echoes reverberating off the crumbling walls around us. The air was thick with unease, the quiet almost suffocating despite the lack of any infected in sight. It was as if the very atmosphere held its breath, waiting for something to happen. But I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the familiar feel of the weapon in my hands, the way the trigger gave under my finger, the recoil that traveled up my arm. The campaign wasn’t over yet, and I knew there were battles still to be fought.
In the midst of my focus, a voice cut through the darkness, sharp and insistent.
“Your time’s up,” she said, her voice cutting through the night air with authority. “You should get some rest now.”
“I don’t need it,” I replied, not bothering to look back.
“You really are an odd one, you know that?” she said, settling onto a log beside the fire. The flames crackled and danced, casting flickering shadows across her face, cutting through the chill of the night. “But I suppose it makes sense. You were born different from the rest of us.” Her gaze held a mix of curiosity and challenge. “Since you’re not interested in heading back inside to rest, and it’s technically my watch, I figured I’d stick around too. I don’t want you stealing my job, so it’s probably better if I ask something to avoid any awkward silence. Is that okay?”
“As long as you don’t bother me too much, it’s fine,” I replied, my eyes never leaving the target as I continued my focused practice.
“Alright then…” she began, her voice softening as she looked into the fire’s glow. “What do you think of this area?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“Like, what’s your general vibe about this place? Do you sense something off, like something doesn’t quite add up? Or maybe you feel too safe, almost like it’s a trap?”
“Why are you asking questions you can answer yourself?” I shot back.
“Because I want your opinion,” she replied, her tone firm. “An opinion—meaning a belief or judgment without absolute certainty or positive proof.”
“I know what an opinion is,” I said. “I’m asking why you need mine.”
“Because I want to hear how you see things,” she insisted, leaning in slightly. “I want to understand your take on this area, what your instincts are telling you.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting at, but I shared what was bothering me about this place. “If I had to give my take, I’d say this place is heavy with demonic essence,” I said.
“So, you’re feeling it too, huh?” she said, nodding as if she was expecting it. Her gaze shifted toward one direction. “And I can feel it coming from there…”
I could feel it too—no, more than that, I could see it. A red, raging demonic presence was emanating from that dilapidated mansion perched on the hill.
“Looks like we know where we’re headed tomorrow,” she said.
