Sizzle… Hiss…
Blue arc-light flared in the dark bunker, the acrid stench of molten metal stinging the nostrils. Thien Anh held the welding torch in one hand, steadying a reinforced steel plate over the door bolt with the other.
On the other side of the three-inch-thick steel, the floodwaters roared like a thousand sea monsters screaming to get in. The entire bunker shuddered violently with every concussive wave.
"Done."
Thien Anh cut the torch, pulled off his welding mask, and exhaled a long, heavy breath. Sweat drenched his shirt. If they had been a minute later, all three would have been fish food.
"Lucky we made it. Otherwise, we'd be swimming with the mutant piranhas by now," he muttered, wiping grime from his forehead.
Suddenly, a crisp, youthful voice—infantile yet carrying a faint, sibilant hiss—rang out right behind his neck:
"What on earth are you two doing to look so pathetic? You're late; dinner's already gone cold."
"AH!"
Thien Anh jolted, dropping the welding torch with a metallic clatter. His heart nearly leaped out of his ribs. He and Thien Lang spun around simultaneously, dropping into combat stances.
But there was no child. Only Thanh—the jade-green cobra—coiled around a ceiling beam, her triangular head swaying, her golden eyes fixed on them with unmistakable mockery.
Thien Anh clutched his chest, gasping for air:
"Good god… Thanh! Are you trying to kill me? My heart isn't made of steel, you know!"
Thanh narrowed her eyes, her tiny mouth curling into a very 'human' smirk:
"Hee hee. Surprised, aren't you?"
Thien Anh stared at her, then looked at Thien Lang, letting out a weary, bewildered laugh:
"Surprised… yeah. But seeing as this Mutt here can talk, I guess I'm less shocked. But your voice… you sound quite like a girl, don't you?"
Thanh slithered down, coiling around Thien Anh's neck like a cold but silky scarf:
"Well, I am a girl. By the way, who's this 'Mutt' you're talking about?"
Thien Lang, sprawled on the floor catching his breath, lifted his head and growled:
"Who are you calling a Mutt? You overgrown green eel!"
Thien Anh rubbed his temples. This house was officially descending into chaos. He stepped in quickly:
"Enough, both of you. Ki is now named Thien Lang. I've renamed him. As for you… we can't keep calling you 'Moc.' It sounds too basic."
Thanh rubbed her head against his cheek affectionately:
"Then give me a name, brother. Something beautiful."
Thien Anh stroked his chin in thought, gazing at her magnificent jade-green scales:
"My surname is Ly. You two are my family, so you'll take the Ly name as well. Ki is Ly Thien Lang—the Celestial Wolf. And you… you shall be Ly Thien Thanh. The color of the azure sky."
"Thien Thanh…" The small serpent repeated, her eyes shimmering. "Beautiful. I like it. Thank you, brother!"
Thien Lang snorted, his gravelly voice dripping with envy:
"Sounds delicate. Flimsy."
Thien Thanh whipped her head around, hissing sharply:
"Still better than a name that sounds like a common street thug. You derpy dog!"
"Who are you calling a dog? I am a Wolf! One bite and I'll have your head!" Thien Lang bared his brilliant white fangs in a threat.
"Try me! One dose of my venom and you'll be paralyzed for a week!" Thien Thanh flared her hood, eyes wide.
Thien Anh watched the two bicker, a smile unintentionally tugging at the corners of his lips. Before, he only heard them growl; now, hearing them trade barbs in human speech, the crushing loneliness of the apocalypse seemed to evaporate entirely.
"Alright, silence!" Thien Anh clapped his hands. "Go clean up, then we eat. Thien Lang, tell little Thanh about the flood."
...
Dinner that night was more opulent than usual.
Thien Anh retrieved a high-tier mutant pig heart from the freezer, nearly as large as a rice cooker. He sliced it into thin medallions and poached them perfectly to retain the sweetness and energy.
Because the bunker was airtight, he avoided gas stoves to prevent toxic buildup, using an induction cooktop powered by backup batteries. The fragrant aroma of the poached meat filled the room, masking the scent of damp mold.
Thien Lang lay by the stove, saliva dripping. Thien Thanh coiled on the sofa, using her tail to flick the TV to the news.
"Time to eat."
Thien Anh set the steaming platter on the table. Thien Lang lunged, aiming for a massive chunk.
Whack!
Thien Thanh whipped his snout with her tail. "Greedy much? Wait for Master to sit down first."
"Ow!" Thien Lang whined, glaring resentfully at the tiny "lady" who was small but packed a lethal punch.
Thien Anh watched Thien Lang with a hint of concern as he ate:
"With an appetite like yours… our stockpile won't last long. One meal for you is a month's worth of food for me."
Thien Lang swallowed a piece of meat whole, grinning:
"Don't worry, Master. I'm full today. The stored energy will last a few weeks. I only need this much when I'm about to evolve further."
"I hope so."
He turned his gaze to the TV screen. Even as the world crumbled, satellite technology flickered with life. The news was a grim montage: volcanic eruptions in Japan, tsunamis swallowing the Indonesian archipelago, and the deluge drowning the northern regions of this very country.
However, one specific report caught Thien Anh's eye.
"...While floods and acid rain devastate the plains, the 'Death Desert' region in the South is reporting a bizarre phenomenon. Heavy rainfall has transformed the arid dunes into lush oases..."
Aerial footage showed a vast expanse, once home only to gold sands and cacti, now sprouting crystal-clear lakes and bursting with vegetation.
"...The provisional government confirms this is a rare Safe Zone, unaffected by high-tier mutant beasts or geological disasters. A massive refugee city is currently under construction..."
Thien Anh lowered his chopsticks, his eyes pensive. The Death Desert. A land of demise turned into a land of promise?
"Are you thinking of going there?" Thien Thanh asked, her voice soft but sharp. She seemed to read his mind.
Thien Anh nodded slowly:
"It's not safe here. The flood has us surrounded; we're like fish in a jar. If the water doesn't recede, or the food runs out, we'll just rot away slowly."
He looked at his two companions:
"When the water drops, we move South. To the desert."
Thien Lang tapped his claws against the table:
"Anywhere is fine. Where Master goes, I go. As long as there's meat."
Thien Thanh nodded as well:
"I'm in. It's too damp here anyway; it's terrible for my scales."
Thien Anh laughed. A bizarre family: an assassin, a gluttonous wolf, and a vain serpent. But they were all he had.
"Good. It's decided. Now, finish up and get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
Outside the steel door, the floodwaters continued to snarl, but inside, the incandescent bulb cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the newfound hope of three souls adrift in the end of days.