After the man left, the cellar remained still. No one moved. Only the weak light of the lantern danced on the cold walls. Fifteen minutes passed like an eternity. Then Ashura sighed, slowly, as if exhaling an invisible weight.
Ashura:
"Even our strongest… has fallen. He's gone."
"If he broke, how can we endure? We don't even have the strength to face the weakest demons. And here we are, dragging ourselves into sharing rations that won't last us another week."
Naiv (calmly, as if he had decided long ago):
"I have a plan... It's not pretty, but it's the only real chance we have to survive."
Elsa (cautiously, but firmly):
"Say it. Don't sow fear then go silent."
Naiv:
"Listen closely... What I'm about to say won't please anyone. It might blow this place apart. But we no longer live in fairy tales, where justice wins and love saves the day. We live in a world torn by rifts, where the choices that keep you alive are rare... and bloody."
Silence fell. Their faces didn't move. But the eyes—those that knew what it meant to stay alive at another's expense—understood.
Naiv:
"We have to get rid of them. The civilians. Everyone who does nothing but cry or complain. They're just a burden dragging us toward the abyss. If we dispose of them now, we'll have enough food for at least two months.
After that... we move toward the Oracle base.
Oracle isn't just a base—it's a lifeboat ripped from the jaws of catastrophe and settled between the edges of madness and calm. It lies atop a series of highlands made of black stones spewed from ancient rifts, surrounded by deep valleys woven from the ashes of time—accessible only by a single passage lined with explosive rocks and suffocating grey fog.
It sits on a high plateau, making it nearly impossible to climb or attack. The path leading to it isn't just a road—it's a test. Anyone who tries to cross must be ready to face volatile weather and episodes of unreality that appear along the valley edges—lingering effects of post-catastrophe distortions.
Water is rare, but it exists—seeping through mineral-rich rock layers, collected via primitive but effective systems. As for the land, though rugged, parts of it have been cultivated for limited farming, supported by a type of biological stimulation resembling temporary bio-activation.
Oracle's strength lies not only in its endurance but in its ability to remain self-sufficient despite its hostile surroundings. It's the only place near this decaying city that still receives the occasional resistance convoy—rare and dangerous, but possible.
Because it sits between three secondary rifts, it's the safest spot to monitor monster movements and anticipate chaos waves before they strike. In other words: reaching Oracle doesn't just mean survival... it means gaining time to plan for the next survival.
So in my view, risking the journey to Oracle is far more valuable than gambling on finding more food or hunting weak demons whose flesh often evaporates after death."
After Naiv finished, no one commented, but the silence wasn't approval—it was dread. Their eyes met, then drifted away, as if a silent confession had passed between them: they no longer had the luxury of refusal.
Ashura didn't lift his head, he merely whispered:
"If we don't move now, we'll die here... or worse, become something else."
Meer, who had remained still the whole time, turned his face toward Naiv and asked:
"And what if the path is blocked?"
Naiv, after a pause, replied:
"Then we die trying—not hiding behind pity."
Naiv, standing by a cracked table, pulled out a faded old map, then spoke as if describing a surgical procedure, not a survival plan:
1. Psychological Priming – "The Threat Nearby"
"We'll begin by spreading rumors of strange activity in the southern zones—unusual echoes, a pack of the warped, or even the shadows of a potential rift.
We'll call them tension points.
These rumors will be seeded through casual talk, watchers, even dreams said to be shared by several people. Fear is fuel. But it must not be panic—only controllable anxiety."
2. Creating Need – "The Map Completion Journey"
"Then we announce that supplies can't be moved without an updated terrain map.
We ask a specific group—young, strong, especially those who complain or show negative emotions—to join what we'll call:
'The Circuit Closure Journey.'
Its visible goal: map danger zones and secure safe areas.
Its real goal: reduce mouths to feed, and create a sense that their survival depends on proving their worth."
3. Participant Selection – "Soft Pressure"
"We present it as a heroic opportunity, not an obligation. But we add a subtle implication:
Those who don't join won't be prioritized when rations run low.
No commands... just adjusted priorities."
4. Internal Motivation – "Fake Honor"
"We announce that survivors who complete the mission will get a special role in the Oracle Coordination Committee.
We give them badges, small shiny tokens.
Humans need meaning—even if it's a lie."
5. Elimination
After the others leave, we will eliminate the remaining civilians inside and process their corpses into food.
This will not happen all at once. It will begin as a series of mysterious disappearances.
We'll blame the rifts and say it's one of their side effects.
There will be panic, but it's better than them knowing we're behind it."
6. Expected Outcomes:
If they return with a proper map: we have what we need and know the route.
If they perish: the burden lessens, internal issues decrease.
If they rebel: we declare they left willingly, or that the rift swallowed them.
Those who vanish without a voice are soon forgotten...
After Naiv concluded his plan, Meer leaned back, as if the air had turned toxic. Her left eye twitched, as if something inside her had broken.
Meer, in a quiet voice that grew sharper:
"So… we'll become worse than the rifts? At least the monsters kill because they know nothing else. But us… we'll slaughter with full awareness."
Naiv, calm and confident:
"We know exactly why. We slaughter so we're not slaughtered. This isn't betrayal—it's surgery to save the body."
Elsa, not looking at anyone, just the ground:
"Would you say that if your mother was one of them? Or your sister? What you're proposing isn't a survival plan… it's the erasure of whatever humanity we have left."
Ashura, expressionless, spoke heavily:
"I've seen cities fall because they waited for the 'moral solution.' It never came. No one survived. We're not destroying our values—we're burying them temporarily, like infected limbs."
Zoreem, shifting his gaze between them:
"I'd rather be a living executioner than a dead angel.
The map we're trying to draw isn't of the land—it's of the true nature of this world... and there's no place left for the weak."
Meer stood abruptly, slapping the table with her hand:
"You're the ones creating new rifts!
The fracture we fear isn't in the sky—it's in our decisions."
Elsa, in quiet sorrow:
"When we eat the last trace of humanity… we don't survive, we transform."
Naiv, in a low but sharp voice:
"If we don't transform, we'll be buried with the rest."
Ashura looked at Naiv, then at Zoreem, and silently nodded.
Zoreem tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword resting beside him and spoke in a low but firm voice:
"Every moment we delay brings us one step closer to the end... We must act now."
Meer, in a trembling voice:
"You… you're serious about this?"
Naiv, with deadly calm:
"Ashura and Zoreem will handle coordination of the exploration missions. We won't force anyone, we'll convince them they're fulfilling a national duty… and we'll draw them a clear path to death."
Then he turned to Elsa and Meer, his gaze leaving no room for argument:
"You two will maintain balance inside the city. Spread reassurance, promote the idea that the disappearances are side effects of the rifts, just like in the neighboring cities. You are the last line of defense against chaos."
Elsa didn't respond. She stared at him with eyes flooded in rejection, without uttering a word.
Meer lowered her gaze and swallowed her anger with a heavy silence.
Naiv concluded in a low voice, as if passing judgment on them all:
"We are not monsters… we are the surgeons who cut to save the body. And whoever disagrees… shall be one of the limbs to amputate."