Morning came late.
The sky hadn't shifted from its dull bruise colored hue, and the ash still drifted like feathers torn from invisible wings. But the tension in Jaden's body had settled just slightly, replaced by a deep, stubborn ache in his shoulders and a craving for something warm, food, sunlight, anything.
They ate in silence. Canned beans shared between four pairs of tired hands, each of them pretending it didn't taste like metal and smoke.
"Gourmet," Silas said between exaggerated chews. "Really brings out the earthy notes of despair."
Aya giggled, though her face was still pale beneath the soot smudges. Rowan barely reacted. His eyes kept flicking toward the broken window, the collapsed toy shelf, the barely-there perimeter they'd set up.
Jaden stood up, brushing off his hands. "We need supplies. Water. Bandages. Maybe an actual blanket."
Silas leaned back on one elbow, boots crossed at the ankle. "Ah, yes. The great scavenging adventure. Our noble quest for toilet paper and instant noodles."
"No jokes," Jaden said flatly. "We're low on everything."
"Even serotonin," Silas muttered. "But sure. Let's get looting."
Aya perked up. "Can I come?"
Jaden shook his head. "Not this time. You and Rowan stay here. We don't know what's out there."
"I can help," Rowan said quietly.
"I know," Jaden replied, softer now. "But if anything happens to us out there… I need someone to protect her."
Rowan hesitated, then nodded.
Ten minutes later, Jaden and Silas stepped out into the fog drenched morning. The city was quiet too quiet. Even the wind held its breath.
Silas's glow had dimmed, reduced to a faint glimmer around the edges of his silhouette. A signature more than a light.
"This part of town," Jaden muttered, scanning the storefronts, "used to be crowded. It's like everything evaporated."
"It didn't evaporate," Silas said. "It scattered. Or got swallowed."
Jaden glanced at him. "By what?"
Silas stopped walking. His eyes, usually playful and teasing, grew serious.
"You ever have a dream where something chases you?" he asked. "But when you try to look at it, it's just a shadow?"
"Yeah."
"That's how some of these things work now. They feed on attention. Awareness. You notice them? They notice you."
They stood there in the middle of the street for a long, silent second.
Then Silas sighed. "Also, watch out for the vending machines. One of them bit me once."
Jaden blinked. "What?"
"It's not important."
The pharmacy they found was mostly intact shelves knocked over, glass cracked, but no signs of a Manifest encounter. Jaden moved quickly, gathering medical supplies, antiseptics, gauze, and the holy grail of post-apocalypse life: ibuprofen.
Silas, naturally, was going through the snack aisle.
"Why is it always raisin granola bars?" he whined. "Why not, like… strawberry cheesecake flavored MREs or a hidden stash of Oreos?"
Jaden knelt behind the counter, checking drawers. "Because the good stuff was taken first."
"Tragedy," Silas said. "This is the real dystopia. All pain, no pastries."
He popped something into his mouth with a suspicious crunch.
"…Did you just eat something off the floor?"
Silas paused. "I plead the fifth."
That's when the sound came.
A soft clicking, like claws on linoleum. Followed by a slow, wet hiss.
Jaden immediately went still.
Silas turned, eyes narrowing, and held up one hand. "Don't move."
From behind the overturned shelves, something rose.
It wasn't quite a Manifest. Not like the ones they'd fought before. This one was… flickering. Pieces of its body pixelated in and out, like bad reception. Its limbs were jagged, overlapping themselves, and its eyes dozens of them blinked out of sync.
"System Wraith," Silas muttered. "A corrupted scavenger protocol."
Jaden drew his blade. "It's hunting?"
"No," Silas said. "It's broken. It attacks anything that exists."
The wraith screamed a glitching, static filled shriek and lunged.
Jaden barely rolled aside as it crashed into the shelves, splinters flying. Silas leapt, midair spin glowing with celestial energy, wings flickering into visibility just long enough to slam the creature back.
"Go for the core!" he shouted. "Where the distortion's thickest!"
"Where?! It's glitching all over!"
"Just pick the ugliest part!"
They danced through broken aisles, dodging fragmented claws and static-choked growls. Jaden managed to slash the beast's side, sending part of its frame collapsing in on itself, while Silas drew its attention with every flashy, sarcastic attack he could muster.
"Hey! You look like someone tried to 3D print a spider using bad code and emotional trauma!"
One more strike, and Jaden finally plunged his blade into the center of the wraith's flickering chest. The creature let out a burst of noise and then collapsed, crumbling into shards of light and code.
Silence fell again.
Jaden breathed hard, leaning against a shelf.
Silas stood, brushing himself off. "Remind me to file a complaint with the afterlife."
"Is that normal?" Jaden asked between breaths.
"No. That one was extra crispy corrupted." He frowned. "Something's accelerating the breakdown."
Jaden stared at the spot where the creature had disintegrated.
"…We need to get back."
---
The return to the shelter was slow. The weight of what they'd seen dragged behind them like a shadow. When they arrived, Aya was sketching something with charcoal on a scrap of cardboard. Rowan sat nearby, knife in hand, watching the door.
Jaden dropped the supplies with a sigh of relief. Aya lit up.
"You're back!"
"Yeah," Jaden said, managing a faint smile. "Got you some real bandages."
"And raisins," Silas added with a tragic sigh. "So many raisins."
That night, the fire crackled again.
Aya shared her drawing: it was of all four of them, cartoon style. Silas's wings were exaggerated, glittery and bright. Jaden stood tall and scowling. Aya and Rowan were holding snacks and a frying pan.
Rowan chuckled. "You made me look brave."
"You are brave," she said.
Silas looked at Jaden. "Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Next time the world tries to eat us," Silas said, "let's bring a cat. Cats always land on their feet. We need that kind of energy."
Jaden didn't laugh. But he smiled.
Just a little.
Author's note:
I'm dead tired and in pain.