[Eridius]: Alright… new plan.
He rubbed his face, exhaling slowly.
[Eridius]: Step one—don't get my guts sold to some back-alley butcher. Step two—find somewhere that qualifies as "not dying."
A pause.
[Eridius]: …Preferably with a roof.
He pushed himself off the wall, eyes scanning the street beyond the alley.
Empty.
Too empty.
No footsteps. No voices. No distant movement. Just the rain, tapping softly against metal and concrete.
Eridius frowned.
[Eridius]: …That's not right.
His gaze narrowed as he stepped forward slightly, peering into the dim stretch of the Backstreets.
[Eridius]: The Backstreets are supposed to be active almost all day…
A beat.
Then it clicked.
[Eridius]: …Except for one time.
The rain seemed louder.
The silence… heavier.
[Eridius]: …3:14 AM.
He went still.
He froze.
Slowly, his eyes shifted—
And landed on a dented wall clock hanging crookedly across the alley.
Its cracked glass flickered faintly.
3:10 AM.
A pause.
Then—
His stomach dropped.
His voice lowered to a whisper.
[Eridius]: I need to hide before—
A breath.
Then, flatly—
[Eridius]: …you're already behind me.
He turned.
And saw them.
Six figures.
Maybe more.
Standing there like they had always been.
Tall. Still. Wrapped in black suits lined with dull cobalt metal. Tanks of dark red liquid pulsed faintly on their backs, tubes feeding into the massive hooks where hands should have been.
Their eyes—
Glowing red.
Watching.
The smell hit him next.
Rot.
Metal.
Something melted and wrong.
Eridius didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
The Sweepers stared back.
Then—
[Sweeper 1]: …So there is something left in District 9 tonight.
Its voice was distorted. Mechanical. Wet.
Another shifted slightly, its hook dragging faintly against the ground.
A pause.
[Sweeper 2]: But the young ones are… hungry.
Eridius raised a hand slowly.
[Eridius]: Alright—hold on. Let's talk about this like civilized… things.
No response.
So he kept going.
[Eridius]: I'm clearly not worth the effort. Look at me. Barely any meat, probably diseased—
The red liquid in its tank pulsed.
[Sweeper 2]: Even scraps… are sustenance.
A beat.
He frowned slightly.
[Eridius]: Also, stop calling me small. I'm just… temporarily height-challenged.
The Sweepers didn't move.
But something shifted.
A pause.
[Sweeper 1]: It understands us.
Another tilted its head.
[Sweeper 6]: That is… unusual.
[Sweeper 1]: Could it be—
A faint step forward.
[Sweeper 1]: —one of the Family?
Silence.
Then—
Firm.
Certain.
[Sweeper 6]: Look at it.
A hook lifted slightly, pointing.
[Sweeper 6]: Weak. Exposed. Alone.
A pause.
[Sweeper 6]: A member of the Family is never abandoned.
The red eyes narrowed.
[Sweeper 6]: This is a human cub.
A beat.
[Sweeper 2]: Then it will suffice.
The hooks shifted.
The liquid pulsed.
They began to move.
[Eridius]: Wait—stop. Look at this.
He bent down quickly, snatching up a jagged piece of scrap metal—
And threw it.
It spun through the air—
Wide.
Missed completely.
Clattering uselessly against the ground several feet away.
The Sweepers didn't react.
They simply stared at it.
Then—
Back at him.
[Sweeper 1]: You missed.
A pause.
Eridius didn't answer.
Instead—
He grinned.
[Eridius]: …Look again.
The Sweepers' heads turned once more toward the scrap.
A second passed.
Then another.
Rain tapped softly against metal.
Silence.
Then—
They looked back.
But—
Eridius was gone.
A flicker of movement—
Far down the alley.
A small figure sprinting at full speed, slipping through the rain, vanishing into the dark.
A beat.
[Sweeper 2]: …It fled.
Its red eyes narrowed slightly.
[Sweeper 1]: It distracted us.
Another Sweeper stepped forward, liquid sloshing faintly in its tank.
A pause.
Then—
From the distance—
A faint echo of metal scraping.
More movement.
More shapes.
Another group.
[Sweeper 2]: …Others are nearby.
[Sweeper 1]: Then we move.
Its hook lowered slightly.
[Sweeper 1]: If it escapes—
A brief pause.
[Sweeper 1]: There will be no intake tonight.
Silence.
Then—
They surged forward.
[Back to Eridius]
Feet slammed against wet pavement.
Breath ragged.
Heart pounding too loud.
[Eridius]: Swearing… will just bring more of them.
He forced himself to focus.
[Eridius]: Think. Think—!
The world blurred as he ran.
Then—
A flicker.
The system.
[Reloading █▒▒▒▒… @#%$… Loading…]
His vision split for a second as the inventory forced itself open mid-sprint.
{Unbreakable Winter Coat & Pants}
{10x Goat Cheese Sticks}
{Command Fragment}
{Mask + Headphones (Urban Set)}
{Double Meat Hamburger w/ Cheese}
{"Minecraft: A World That Doesn't Exist – Part 1 & 2"}
[Effect: Can be watched anytime, anywhere.]
[Eridius]: …If only there was something useful for—!
His foot hit uneven ground—
He stumbled—
Turned—
And saw it.
A door.
Half-rotted. Barely hanging on its hinges.
No time to think.
He kicked it open.
BANG.
[Inside]
Dim light.
A cramped room.
The smell of cheap food and damp fabric.
A man sat inside—startled, frozen mid-motion.
Eridius didn't answer.
Didn't slow down.
He bolted past him—
Dropped—
And forced himself under a sagging couch, pressing his body flat against the cold floor, barely breathing.
Silence.
A second.
Two.
Three—
[A man]: …What the hell is wr—
A sound.
Outside.
Metal scraping.
Something dragging.
Then—
The door.
It didn't open.
It collapsed inward.
The man turned.
Too slow.
The first hook pierced through his shoulder.
A wet, tearing sound filled the room.
Another followed.
Then another.
The scream broke into choking sobs—
Then into something worse.
[Sweeper 44]: Intake confirmed.
The red liquid in its tank pulsed violently.
Another voice, closer.
[Sweeper 12]: The small one entered here.
A pause.
The room shifted as more of them stepped inside.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Under the couch—
Eridius didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't think.
Only listened—
To the wet, dissolving sound of a human body turning into liquid.
The wet, bubbling noise dragged on longer than it should have.
Too long.
Then—
Silence.
A shift.
[Sweeper 12]: The small one is gone. We proceed.
Another voice, distant.
[Sweeper 44]: Intake sufficient.
A beat.
[Sweeper 12]: Next nest. We continue the Sweep.
Heavy steps.
One by one—
They left.
Metal scraping faded.
The smell lingered.
Then even that… began to thin.
Then silence.
Eridius didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
Time stretched.
Seconds felt like minutes.
Minutes felt like hours.
The clock on the wall ticked.
Slow.
Loud.
Relentless.
3:27.
3:41.
3:58.
4:07.
4:14.
And the night finally let go.
Only then—
Did Eridius inhale?
A sharp, shaky breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
His body trembled.
[Eridius]: …First day and almost died, but got a house and a door that needs rebuilding.
[Chapter end]