"It can't be. I brought those things to Earth. I must be so cruel," said Darkin, unable to believe his own words.
He had never expected to be the one responsible for all the chaos in Moamba.
"Easy, don't be like that. We'll find a solution. I've got something that might calm you down," Ashlem said with steady calmness, slipping a hand into one of his pockets. "Here you go. Take it. Now relax — I'll light it for you."
He pulled out a lighter and set fire to the cigar already resting in Darkin's mouth.
Darkin wasted no time, inhaling deeply. The car landed in a place littered with debris, burnt corpses, and, on the other side, lifeless Zralkies.
"Everyone must know I'm a monster. Everyone must hate me, no doubt," Darkin said with a look of sorrow.
"Well… that's the truth. The people are disappointed in you. Even if you're not the only one who invaded, as their leader, all the blame falls on you."
"My wife… she must be so disappointed in me… Wait — is she even still alive?"
At the end of his sentence, a wave of worry swept over his face.
"Fortunately, yes. I saw her with Intirrén's help, but she's not in a comfortable place."
"Where is she?" Darkin asked with a glimmer of hope.
"I don't know, but it looked like she was in some kind of room."
Punkson's stomach growled. A merciless hunger gnawed at him and, when he looked toward the bakery on the right, nothing else mattered but storming in and finding something to eat. Ashlem glanced at him and said:
"A son of Moamba needs something for that stomach."
The two of them got out of the Lorfy, which remained still, as if it had been powered down.
They walked toward the entrance of the place, the lights dead, everything inside scattered and broken. Ashlem took a couple of steps before stopping, sensing something approaching.
"What is it?" asked Darkin, eager to keep moving.
He puffed on his cigar to settle his nerves, brushing his hair back behind his ears. Cautiously, Ashlem walked toward the spot where he had sensed something coming, only to find an eight-year-old boy, chewing on a piece of bread. The boy was so thin his bones seemed desperate to escape his frail flesh.
The child stopped eating and stared at Ashlem — but when Darkin came to see what was happening, something changed. The boy looked at Darkin with such raw disgust it made the man's stomach twist.
"Are you alone?" Ashlem asked, suspicious.
The child shook his head aggressively, a clear 'no.'
James was unsettled by the movement and, without delay, drew a gun from the deep pocket of his long coat, always ready for difficult situations.
"Easy, Ashlem — you're not going to shoot a child," said Darkin, stopping his brother before he did something crazy.
"Of course not. This gun's for something else."
Confused, Darkin looked around, trying to spot whatever Ashlem meant, but saw nothing.
Outside, the crimson moonlight began to intensify, and a strange, unnatural sound filled the air. The child's eyes suddenly turned red — but the hunter failed to notice.
The little boy began to laugh, hysterically, mumbling bizarre, alien words at a disturbing speed. Ashlem closed his eyes, finger on the trigger, mentally counting down until the right moment arrived. He fired. The bullet struck the forehead of a male Zralky, appearing grotesque and vile beside the child, who kept laughing. The creature collapsed.
Ashlem's Viko reacted instantly, and without hesitation, he shot the child too — the boy dropped without a breath.
"Let's get out of here — now," said Darkin.
"Wait…" Ashlem murmured, spotting a newspaper with Darkin's face printed on it.
"What is this?" the man asked in disbelief.
The strange sound, now resembling a group, kept growing louder — closer.
"Take it, and let's move. We've got company," Ashlem said, handing the paper over.
But when they turned to leave through the door, they were greeted by a swarm of creatures.
The things before them looked like birds escaped from a horror film — their presence enough to send chills through the spine. Their eyes blazed red, and the screeching noise they made gnawed at the eardrums.
"What are those things?" Darkin asked, just as a sudden headache struck him.
Ashlem's eyes shifted to a glowing green. He reached for the two pistols holstered at his sides.
"Leave this to me. It's time to dance," he said, his voice grim and resolute and...