Here's the third part of the omake!
Good night, and enjoy your reading!
(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.
[...]---[...]
Title: After Reincarnating in a World Where Various TV Shows and Movies Are Real, I Was Invited to a Dimensional Group Chat, But One of the Other Members Is an Overpowered Protagonist Pretending to Be a Normal Guy for Some Unknown Reason!
POV: Eleonore Blanc Castle
The calm I had managed to regain moments earlier froze as a chill ran down my spine when I heard my name come from that man's lips.
His soft, masculine voice—calm, almost amused—the strange familiarity with which he spoke those words, combined with the overall oddness of the situation and the fact that my nerves were already shot, made me take a sharp step back, my boots clapping loudly against the wooden floor.
I slid my right hand inside my coat and grabbed the Taurus holster tightly, while raising my left arm and holding it in front of my body.
I doubted my scrawny arm would stop that mountain of muscle for even a second, but I only needed one second to dump the whole fucking magazine into him if he moved.
I ignored the noise from the other girls behind me, the questions of "Is everything okay?" and "What happened?", and focused on The Human in front of me.
The man seemed more entertained by my actions than anything else. It was obvious I had a gun under my coat, yet he didn't look scared or anxious in the slightest.
"H-how do you know my name?" I asked, my voice coming out annoyingly shaky, weak, and stuttering for my liking.
Half a second later, with my emotions running high, I realized I'd asked the wrong question and quickly corrected myself.
"How do you know I'm Eleonore?" My voice was steadier this time. "I said my name in the chat, but I never described what I look like."
The man took a step back, slowly raising his hands in a classic gesture of surrender that, to me, didn't look sincere at all.
If anything, it just made him look even bigger. Fuck!
He still had that amused smile on his face—the one that was starting to get on my nerves.
"Easy. If I wanted to hurt someone, I wouldn't have knocked first, would I?" He tilted his head slightly, his honey-brown eye fixed on me.
And you think saying that doesn't make you look suspicious as hell?! You creep! Freak!
"Answer the question," I growled, not taking my hand off the Taurus. I was actually very close to drawing it—I just hadn't, because I didn't know how I'd react with a gun in my hands.
I'd rather pull and fire without thinking; I was more confident I wouldn't hesitate that way. If I had to consciously think about pulling the trigger, I didn't know whether I could or not.
"How did you know I was Eleonore before I even opened my mouth?" I repeated.
He stared at me in silence for a second, the soft smile still on his face, before answering.
"Logical reasoning and elimination," he said simply. "It's not that hard. Not that you wouldn't know—you seemed pretty smart in the chat."
He nodded his chin toward the room behind me. I didn't turn around, but I knew he was pointing to where the other girls were watching the scene unfold.
"I knew there were six members. Five women, one man. I checked my cabin." He paused, then corrected himself a moment later. "The men's cabin, I mean. The lights next to the doors show whether the room is occupied or not. Only my room was occupied, so none of you lied about your gender in the chat."
For some reason, he looked a bit nostalgic—and cheerful—and let out a short laugh. Another icy shiver ran down my spine.
"What's so funny?" I forced out. "Care to tell me the joke too?"
"Sorry, it's just… it reminded me of a similar situation I went through once."
"Did it involve dimensional kidnapping too?" My tone dripped with sarcasm.
He looked even more amused. A warning shot to the foot wouldn't be so bad…
"I doubted one of my friends once as well. Her nickname was clearly feminine, and she claimed to be a woman," he explained. "But years on the internet have taught me that if something behind a screen claims to be female, the odds of it being a fat guy reeking of Cheetos living in his mom's basement are much higher than the odds of it actually being a woman."
Internet… So he knew. I'd already suspected he came from a modern world based on how he handled the chat, but that erased all doubt.
And made me slightly more uneasy.
If before he might not have known what a gun was and thought I was just grabbing a knife, now I was sure he knew—and still wasn't afraid.
Still, the logic was sound. I agreed with him completely and couldn't help giving a subtle nod.
He continued.
"With confirmation that you didn't lie about your genders, it's logical to assume you didn't lie about the rest." He paused briefly. "Or at least, not by much."
"Maomao is a Chinese name. Even though she said she's not from China, but from an empire that, by her description, is similar…" His gaze calmly traveled up and down my body as he spoke. "You don't have Chinese features, nor are you wearing Chinese clothing, which I assume she is."
He glanced behind me again.
"Which she is, in fact. Then there's Ellie, who, aside from stating she's fourteen, said in the chat that her world is some kind of apocalyptic dystopia."
"And I don't look like a kid," I said flatly.
"No. Nor do you dress like someone who claims to be living in hell." He smiled, agreeing. "The same applies to Ashley, the president's daughter. I'd imagine her to be someone polished like you, with a noble, wealthy air. But since she was in the middle of a kidnapping, I imagine her appearance wouldn't be the cleanest."
His single eye shifted to the side first, then his head followed a second later, turning to the right—toward the bathroom where Ashley was washing herself.
I followed his gaze by instinct, seeing only the stone-paved road behind him, the cabin across the way, the lawn between both cabins, a portion to my right, and nothing else. I only realized I'd broken eye contact when I actually looked back at him and saw him staring at me.
He could have attacked me easily… In fact, this bastard did that on purpose just to show exactly that, didn't he?… I thought, clenching my jaw.
I glared at him. He noticed, of course—judging by the way the edges of his placid smile twisted. The asshole was enjoying himself.
"Cute," he said, almost growling.
I felt my face heat up with anger. Then he changed the subject.
"She's in the shower, right? Ashley." He asked, completely unfazed by the look I was giving him.
I hesitated before answering, then sighed, lowering my left arm and taking my right hand off the Taurus grip, relaxing a bit.
If he were going to attack me, he would have already. And I wasn't stupid enough not to see his reasoning.
"Yeah. She was filthy. Ellie's going after her." I said, leaning my right shoulder against the doorframe, tilting my body and crossing my legs. "So why didn't you mistake me for Bella?"
He lowered his arms, seeing I was no longer about to put new holes in him.
"I could give you several reasons why I didn't confuse you with her. But I'll ask you a simple question instead…" He leaned slightly forward and spoke in a lower tone. "What's the name of the event that happens as often as the sun rises and sets?"
My eyes widened.
"You…" I whispered.
He knew… No, that's not the point. How did he know that I knew… Fuck! This was a test, and I fell for it like an idiot!
If I didn't know, the question would just be a weird question and nothing more. But from my reaction, he clearly knows that I know Bella is from Twilight; by extension, I might have other similar information!
Fuck it! This guy is playing with me like I'm some kind of wind-up doll!
The Human seemed to ignore the mental storm raging inside me. His placid smile remained the same—at this point, I was starting to think it was mocking.
He straightened up and waved his right hand forward, not seeming to care about my reaction.
"Is that answer good enough for your question, French girl?"
It took me a moment to recover from the shock. I gave a small nod.
"Yes… you're a conceited idiot. Smart and irritating, you know that?" I praised him begrudgingly, snorting through my nose. "Women usually don't like guys like you."
"I've met plenty who would disagree." He didn't miss a beat. "But I appreciate the compliment anyway. Aren't you going to ask how I know you're French?"
I straightened up and puffed out my chest, lifting my chin slightly with a smile.
"My name, obviously. And my French features are obvious and beautiful, of course—"
"It was the bad smell."
You son of a bitch!
I felt my face heat up with rage, my eyelid twitching.
He smiled in satisfaction—probably at my reaction—showing his teeth this time. Pearly white, perfectly aligned. His dentist must be good. Sharp canines, too.
A faint shiver ran up my spine, and this time I couldn't tell what kind it was.
The hand he already had extended opened fully for a handshake.
"Now that I think about it, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Devas. Pleasure to meet you in person, Eleonore."
I narrowed my eyes slightly. Devas? The name was familiar… Where had I heard it before?…
I extended my hand and grabbed his. For a moment, I thought he might bend down and kiss the back of it, but instead he just gave a light squeeze and a single shake before letting go.
"Pleasure to meet you, Devas," I returned the greeting. The name felt strange on my tongue.
It wasn't that much of a pleasure, but I was polite above all else.
"So, may I come in?" The Human—Devas—asked.
I opened my mouth to say yes when a terrifying realization hit me and my teeth snapped together hard.
I almost bit my tongue.
"Why do you need permission to enter?" I took another step back, grabbing the doorknob as cold sweat began to form on my back.
His teeth were sharp too… Fuck! The Taurus rounds were normal; the silver ones were in my backpack, along with the holy water. Where the hell was Bella and her stake?!
"Why do I— Oh! The legend about evil being unable to enter a home without an invitation. Looks like someone did their homework." He seemed impressed and took a step forward, crossing into the cabin.
I watched him pass over the threshold effortlessly. He didn't melt, didn't catch fire, didn't explode, and wasn't repelled by any invisible force.
I felt the tension in my body ease a little.
Great. He's not a vampire, I thought—before my pessimistic side kicked in. Or he's a very powerful vampire, and that 'home protection' doesn't mean shit. In that case, we're fucked.
Devas turned to look at me; now that he was closer, he seemed even taller. I tilted my head up to look him in the eye, and he down at me.
"See? Not a vampire. I only asked to come in out of politeness." He extended his right arm. "Want to check my pulse?"
"…No need," I muttered. He shrugged, pulling his arm back.
"But I'm still keeping an eye on you," I murmured, slamming the door a little harder than necessary to vent my frustration.
I'd been completely "defeated."
I'm still going to make you drink holy water, just in case… If this guy really is a normal human, then I'm the Queen of England.
I shook my head and kept my thoughts to myself.
Behind us, the other girls were watching the "spectacle" in silence.
Maomao was standing behind the couch. I noticed it was a good position to bolt for the back hallway if needed. Bella was curled up in an armchair, hugging her backpack.
Ellie stood less than a meter behind me and Devas, switchblade drawn.
"Done flirting?" she asked, tilting her neck up to look at me—then tilting it even farther up to look at Devas.
"Holy fuck…" Ellie blurted out, with absolutely no filter. "What did you eat for breakfast, a brick? Why are you so… big?"
Devas let out a low laugh. "I follow a balanced, nutrient-rich diet."
"We weren't flirting," I replied a bit late. She glanced over at me.
"In my experience, that looked like flirting."
"Your experience as a fourteen-year-old girl?" I raised an eyebrow.
She stuck out her tongue, folded the knife, slipped it back into her pocket, and extended a fist toward the only man in the room.
"Ellie."
"Devas." He bumped it.
Devas then looked around the room, his single eye lingering on Maomao and Bella for a moment before continuing to inspect the surroundings.
"Looking for something?" Maomao asked, stepping out from behind the couch.
She was ridiculously tiny—and looked even smaller standing near Devas. It made me want to pinch her cheeks!
She kind of looked like a cat too…
"It's the same as the men's cabin," he replied, glancing at her. "Same furniture and layout. Did you find the coin in the room?"
I blinked.
"What coin?"
"I'll take that as a no…" He reached into his right pants pocket and pulled out a coin.
He held it up between his fingers.
Unlike my Seer Coin, which had an ancient, vaguely mystical feel—with its pupil-less eye and illegible inscriptions—this one looked much simpler.
It was bronze-colored and roughly the size of a dollar coin. The engraving itself was similar, though.
One side was blank; on the other, there was a closed eye.
Devas held the coin at eye level for everyone to see for a few seconds before tossing it to Maomao, who caught it with some difficulty, nearly dropping it.
"It's a Nameless Coin—or at least, I think it is." He shrugged and slipped his hand back into his pocket, pulling out another coin. "I found it inside the wardrobe in my room. Checked the other rooms too—found twelve in total."
…Fuck. I hadn't even thought about searching the rooms.
"There could be more in our rooms too, then," Ellie said, glancing toward the hallway.
"Probably," he agreed. "I didn't check the living room—if that's what this is called. There might be some here as well."
I looked around. We all did, actually.
None of us were idiots. Or at least, I liked to think we weren't. The Nameless Coin was the currency used in the Nameless Camp; even finding a single one would be useful.
I paid close attention to everyone's reactions.
I was still paranoid about the fact that killing was merely discouraged, not forbidden.
I was already going to have to deal with horror-movie monsters; if I also had to watch my back to avoid getting stabbed by someone trying to steal a handful of coins, I'd go gray way sooner than I should.
Thankfully, I didn't see any greed on the girls' faces. They looked thoughtful more than anything. Ellie was scanning the room, same as Bella—though Bella was also throwing glances at me and Devas.
Maomao was inspecting the Nameless Coin Devas had tossed her. She did so for a second or two before walking up to him and extending her hand with the coin.
She really did look tiny. I wanted so badly to squish her!
As for Devas himself, he kept the same gentle smile, showing no particular reaction.
"Here. It's yours." She didn't hesitate.
"Maomao-guniang, I assume…"
The Human brought his hands together in front of his chest, closing his right fist and covering it with his left palm. He inclined his torso slightly. His hands rose and fell in a smooth arc.
What the?…
Maomao blinked, watching the gesture with a clearly surprised expression for a moment before returning the greeting.
She brought her hands together in front of her body, positioning them slightly above her waist, and briefly bent her knees.
"Just Maomao is fine," she replied, straightening up quickly. "You know the customs of my people?… I think it was called China—the name of the Li Empire in your world."
"One of my best friends is Chinese." Devas straightened as well and explained with the same gentle smile on his face, though this time it seemed far more genuine and kind. "I picked up a few things from him. Forgive any faux pas—I can't say I'm an expert, and I don't even know if there are differences in customs between worlds."
Maomao gently shook her head from side to side.
"No, the greeting was done correctly." She extended her hand with the coin again. "Here."
This time, Devas took the coin without ceremony and slipped it back into his pocket.
After that, an odd, uncomfortable silence settled over the room. No one there was truly at ease with one another, and we barely knew each other.
"Well, I suppose that's that." The Human broke the silence. "I just came to greet you. Or almost all of you. We still have a mission to prepare for."
"I'm going to check the motorhome and then see what our mission is about. Anyone want to come with me?" He looked at each of us in turn.
I stepped forward.
"Motorhome?"
"It's parked a few meters from the cabins. Hard to miss," he explained. "Probably our vehicle for the mission. And there's a circular plaza a bit farther out, with a large wooden sign. I saw it from a distance—it looked like there was a paper pinned or nailed to it."
"Our mission probably…" I brought my right thumbnail to my mouth and bit it. My voice came out slightly muffled. "The Chat hasn't shown up since we arrived. Is the mission given manually?"
Devas shrugged without answering and headed for the door. He grabbed the handle and opened it, but didn't step outside. He glanced over his shoulder as he asked again:
"Anyone coming?"
"I'll collect the coins from the rooms." Maomao spoke up first, looking down the hallway. "And I'll see if I can find anything else in the cabin."
"I can help!" Bella said in a high, slightly too-loud tone as she sprang up from the armchair. She coughed before continuing more normally. "I mean, I'll help her. There are twelve rooms—checking everything will take time."
No one commented on that.
"I'll wait for the blonde—" Ellie looked at me. "The other blonde—to get out of the shower, then go scrub the grime off my own body. After that, I can come with you."
"Fair. I left the clothes in the dark-blue backpack—give them to Ashley when she comes out." I agreed, turning and heading for the door. Ashley had rushed to the bathroom and forgotten her towel and clothes.
"I'll go with you," I said when I reached Devas.
It was the perfect moment. We'd be alone, and I had a lot of questions for him.
His smile widened slightly.
"I was hoping you would."
[…]
We stepped out of the cabin, and the cold air hit me like a slap.
It wasn't that it was truly cold—the inside of the cabin was just too cozy. Not only physically, but mentally as well.
The outside was the opposite. I didn't feel safe. Something seemed to be watching me from afar…
"A distant gaze…" I heard Devas say beside me. He didn't seem bothered. "Can you feel it?"
I nodded slowly and looked around.
The scenery itself did nothing to ease my anxiety.
It was exactly what the name suggested: a camp. But not the fun kind, with marshmallows and campfires—this looked more like the opening scene of a movie where everyone dies in the first ten minutes and the rest is just flashbacks explaining how everything went to shit.
There were only two cabins—ours and the men's, which was a perfect copy of the women's—positioned on opposite sides of a road made of gray, poorly cut stone.
The exterior of the cabin was just as I'd imagined: dark-brown wood, planks and logs fitted and nailed together. It looked old—maybe mid-1950s—but not decrepit.
Between the cabins, the space was dominated by sparse, poorly trimmed grass. Some patches were short; others reached up to the ankles.
And surrounding everything, the forest.
It was a dense mass of dark, twisted trees, wrapped in a strange pale-white fog so thick it looked almost solid. Maybe it was—since the fog never left the forest or drifted into the camp, as if there were an invisible wall.
I couldn't see even two meters into the woods; it was just a white void with a few random, flickering silhouettes inside, visible as the fog shifted.
The sky above was gray.
A painful tightness formed in the center of my chest as I stared at the trees. A strange shortness of breath, paired with an icy chill. My heartbeat throbbed painfully in my ears.
"Cozy, isn't it?" Devas commented, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, walking calmly down the stone road, seemingly unaffected by the overwhelming you're going to die here vibe.
"If you like places that scream 'mass murder,' sure," I replied, keeping pace close to him, though my eyes lingered on the fog a second longer.
I instinctively slipped my hand inside my coat and grabbed the Taurus.
"You're not bothered by this?…"
"Of course I am." He snorted.
"Doesn't look like it."
"That's exactly the point." That was his answer. He didn't elaborate.
We walked down the stone road toward the plaza. Parked along the right shoulder was the motorhome.
It was a large vehicle, a classic model reminiscent of a 90s Fleetwood Bounder, but painted in a matte metallic blue.
The metal looked thicker than normal, and the windows were lightly tinted. There was no manufacturer's logo—only the symbol of a closed eye on the side door, the same as on the coins.
"Looks sturdy," I noted, judging its size. "Good model too. Bigger than usual, I think…"
We'd all fit comfortably inside—maybe even with three or four extra people—but the idea of being trapped in a vehicle surrounded by that fog didn't appeal to me in the slightest.
"Know your cars?" He moved closer to the motorhome and stopped by the driver's door.
"No," I said. "But I'm a writer. I've researched a lot of things. This model is one of the more well-known motorhomes. I've even used one in a story."
He paused for a moment and shot me a sideways glance.
"What?"
"Nothing… just a bit surprised. A writer?" He let out a soft laugh, climbed into the cabin, and leaned between the front seats, pulling open the engine compartment cover. "Does this feel like one of your stories?"
I frowned. "You too?…" I murmured.
He went straight to where the engine was… He knows the model, I thought, climbing into the motorhome after him.
I took a moment to look around the interior. It was more spacious than I'd expected—and more than it looked from the outside.
The central aisle was wide enough for two people to pass without squeezing. Normal people, at least. You could easily fit three Maomaos side by side.
The floor had a wine-red carpet, worn only in high-traffic areas. The cabin seats, upholstered in dark-brown faux leather, could swivel inward, integrating the front with the rest of the vehicle.
On the right was a long L-shaped couch, also dark brown, with built-in seatbelts. On the left, a matte light-wood table.
I hesitated before flipping the light switch. The lights came on—thankfully—casting a warm, yellow glow. I turned the switch off…
Then on again. Then off a second time. I repeated that a few more times before feeling satisfied and stopping.
I ignored the look Devas gave me and walked through the interior for a few seconds. I pushed the table with my hand—it didn't budge. Welded.
The kitchen was compact. A deep, dull-metal sink, built-in stove, beige cabinets. I pushed and tapped everything. Nothing creaked or felt loose. The refrigerator was off, clean, and empty.
I closed the fridge door, watching the light go out at the last moment, then turned toward the back of the motorhome.
At the rear, two cream-colored sliding doors led to what looked like a sleeping area.
White mattresses were folded and strapped to the wall. Six of them. I slapped each one—soft. I found four more in a small cabinet to the side and slapped those too.
The bathroom was through a door in the middle.
It was very small, lined with worn off-white panels. A tiny sink, a white toilet, and a shower. The stall fit one person—two if you squeezed. I tugged up the sleeve on my right wrist and grabbed the shower control. Water came out.
"Thank God…" I murmured. If we had to refill the tank, that would've been a problem.
I'd buy a vehicle like this. It was pretty nice. Only the wear bothered me…
If it was worn, it meant it had been used. If it had been used, someone had to have used it. And if someone had used it, that meant we weren't the first ones in this cursed place.
And since there was no one here when we arrived, everyone probably died…
Joy!
I splashed water on my hands and washed my face, pushing down the urge to vomit. I looked at myself in the mirror and fixed the blond strands stuck to my forehead before heading back to the front, where Devas was.
He was still looking at the engine.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, peering over his shoulder.
"For someone who looked ready to shoot me earlier, you got comfortable way too fast…" he muttered. "I'm checking to see if this thing won't screw us over and die on the road out of nowhere."
Ugh… classic horror movie trope. I hadn't thought of that.
"Know your cars?" I threw his earlier question back at him.
"A bit. A good friend of mine is a mechanic. I learned most of what I know from him."
I watched his single eye analyze what looked like a hose and what I was almost sure was—maybe, probably—a belt.
It had been a while since I'd written anything involving cars.
Devas extended his unbandaged hand and carefully touched a few parts I didn't know the names of.
"Everything seems fine. Nothing's dripping, nothing's loose. At least nothing that shouldn't be loose." He straightened up a bit, but didn't close the hood. "Judging by the size, the engine matches the vehicle. That's good…"
"And the rest?"
"Too many new parts for an old model." He frowned slightly. "Some are old, some aren't. Someone's been messing with this recently."
"The carpet's worn out," I commented. "Some other interior parts too."
"So someone was using it, then… joy." He let out a dry chuckle.
He paused briefly, drumming the fingers of his right hand against the steering wheel before finally closing the engine cover.
"It should run fine," he concluded. "Maybe…"
"I just love things with absolutely no warranty… They make me feel so safe!"
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor," he pointed out. I agreed with him, but sarcasm was still the best kind of humor. "But yeah, I'm not guaranteeing anything. I don't like tempting fate."
I raised a finger to argue, then lowered it a moment later. He was right.
I looked ahead through the driver's window, toward the distant forest and the pale white mist draped over it.
"…Which ones do you know besides Bella?" I asked after a moment of silence.
"Resident Evil, The Last of Us, and Twilight," he listed calmly, without taking his eyes off the engine. All of them, then. Or almost all. "I have no idea where Maomao comes from."
I blinked.
Wait—what the fuck? So that whole "logical reasoning" act was complete bullshit? Of course he'd know who I was if he knew all the others—and the only one he didn't know was Chinese!
Son of a bitch!
"Same here…" I muttered under my breath, irritated. "What about me?"
I already knew the answer was probably no. I was a transmigrator, after all.
I hoped the answer would be no…
"I don't know any Eleonore Blanc Castle, so you're probably just some random background character." He laughed. I let out a relieved sigh and laughed as well. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"Just by the name?… No." I lied. I remembered something, but I didn't know exactly what.
"Another background character, then. That's good." He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel again.
A nervous tic…?
I felt tempted to ask whether he was handling the fact that "fictional characters" were real pretty well. I'd had years to get used to it; he'd had two days. But I held back.
The situation didn't feel right, and I barely knew the guy.
And asking whether he was a "transmigration" or a "reincarnator"? Yeah, I wasn't opening that can of worms anytime soon.
I looked out the driver's window again. Slightly to the left was the circular plaza Devas had mentioned earlier—the center of the roundabout that seemed to serve as the camp's entrance and exit.
At its center stood a large wooden sign. Roughly two meters tall and three or four meters wide, with an open gap in the middle of the lower section.
My eyesight wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. Still, I could make out something yellow on the sign.
"A paper," Devas said, noticing my stare. "Probably our mission. Shall we?"
He let out a low grunt as he stood up and left the motorhome without waiting for me, heading toward the center of the plaza.
I hesitated for a moment before following him. The instant I stepped out of the motorhome, I felt it again—the same icy breeze and the sensation of being watched.
I hadn't even noticed it had stopped.
I suppressed a shiver and gripped the Taurus with my right hand. I quickened my pace and stayed close to Devas.
We stopped in front of the sign. I noticed it had a small inverted "V"-shaped roof to protect whatever was pinned beneath it.
Up close, I could see it clearly: a yellowed sheet of paper, worn and rough-looking, held in place by what appeared to be rusted thumbtacks.
Devas stepped closer and grabbed the paper. He frowned for a moment.
"Huh?… This is pretty easy." He sounded surprised before handing it to me.
I pulled my right hand out from inside my coat and took the yellowed page. It felt just as rough as it looked. The lettering, however, was handwritten and extremely elegant.
The paper read:
[..]
MISSION #001 — "The Mist"
[Location:] Food House Supermarket
[Duration:] 72 hours (3 days)
[Difficulty:] 2 members (Introductory initial mission, all members allowed)
[Description:]
"The world outside didn't just disappear; it was erased. What began as a flat white line on the horizon turned into a wall of dirty cotton that swallowed the Food House parking lot, silencing the birds and bringing with it the stench of swamps and dead things."
S. K.
[..]~~~[..]
[Primary Objective:] Survive for 72 hours until the fog recedes and the army arrives.
[Secondary Objective:] Prevent human deaths among the customers and employees trapped on site.
[Survival Route:] (Nullified)
[..]~~~[..]
[System Tips:]
"Fear spreads faster than any disease."
"Do not light a flame in a dark forest."
"Faith is blind."
[..]~~~[..]
[Primary Objective Reward:] Distribution: 100 Nameless Coins (proportional to contribution)
[Individual Bonus:] 10 Nameless Coins per member.
[Secondary Objective Reward:] 1 Nameless Coin for each surviving human (Total of 48 civilians present at mission start).
[Survival Route Reward:] (Nullified)
[..]
"..."
Two things.
First: there was something seriously wrong with the son of a bitch standing in front of me if this counted as "pretty easy" in his book.
Second: I threw up.
[...]---[...]
Here's the third part of this OMAKE!
I really enjoy writing Eleonore. She's quite different from Devas in general, and that contrast is fun to explore.
These first three chapters are just introductory, meant to let the group get to know each other and to give a sense of how this "mini story" will work. I'm not sure it'll actually stay mini, though—if people like it.
The next chapter will already have them on the mission.
One thing I think I mentioned before, but I'm not entirely sure, is this: I made this OMAKE not only so I could write the horror elements I've been wanting to explore and ease my writer's block a bit, but also so I could include worlds that I wouldn't be able to put into the main story.
That includes Stephen King's worlds. I'm a big fan of his books, but they wouldn't really fit into the main story overall. Maybe the clown… but that's something I still need to think about.
Well, I think that's it. As always, good night and enjoy your reading!