The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 34: The Aftermath

The rhythmic hum of helicopter blades cut through the thick, smoky air as the aircraft hovered over the devastated research facility. Flames still flickered in the distance, and molten lava poured steadily from the ground, creating a hazardous, hellish landscape. The facility that once housed the hybrid beast was now reduced to rubble, its metallic walls bent inward as though crushed by an unimaginable force.

The helicopter touched down, sending a gust of wind that scattered ash and debris across the field. From inside, a tall figure stepped out—Marcus, an Ss-Ranked Hunter, his dark coat billowing behind him as he surveyed the carnage. His sharp eyes took in every detail, from the charred remains of the facility to the lingering traces of energy still humming in the air.

"Damn it," Marcus muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. "Quag… you must have sacrificed yourself."

His boots crunched against the gravel as he approached the entrance—or what was left of it. The walls had been torn apart, some melted completely. The air was heavy with the scent of burnt flesh and metal, the result of The Ten's rampage.

A security agent rushed toward him, barely able to contain his panic. "Sir! We—we have confirmed reports that The Ten were here. They took the hybrid."

Marcus exhaled sharply. So they got it. His expression darkened. The Ten had struck a major blow against the Hunter Association, and if word of this got out, it would shake the foundation of their organization.

"We cannot let this information spread," Marcus said coldly. "If the public finds out we let The Ten steal a Hybrid Beast from under our noses, they'll see us as weak. We handle this internally—no leaks."

The agent nodded hesitantly before rushing off. Marcus turned back toward the ruined laboratory, stepping over bodies, some still impaled by massive roots that had burst from the ground. His gaze lingered on the horrific display—scientists, researchers, even guards, slaughtered in an instant.

"Damn you, …" Marcus whispered before stepping back into the helicopter. He had no time to waste. This would need to be reported directly to the Hunter Association's Main Branch in Washington.

Meanwhile, deep within the hideout of The Ten, Huey and Draven materialized from the roots that had carried them across distances in mere moments. Draven's breathing was heavy, his body still weak from the prolonged battle against Quag. Every inch of his muscles ached, and his Shen reserves were nearly depleted.

"You did well today," Huey said, his usual playful tone replaced by something more serious. "You're growing, kid. Step by step, you're perfecting those eyes. Soon, you'll be able to harness their full power." He placed a hand on Draven's shoulder, grinning. "Rest up. I have something special for you tomorrow."

Draven nodded, his body still trembling as he turned toward his tent. His fingers twitched slightly—residual energy still crackled through his veins from the overuse of Shen. As he walked away, he clenched his fists. I need to get stronger. I need more control.

Huey made his way toward the inner part of their base, where Roshi lay on a cot, his body still recovering from the brutal battle. Castle stood nearby, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"How's our dear strategist doing?" Huey asked, tilting his head.

Roshi smirked weakly. "I've been worse."

Beside him, a woman with long, flowing black hair finished wrapping his wounds. She wore a fitted black robe, her movements elegant yet efficient. A slim, alluring figure with an air of authority, Circe—the Sensor and Healer of The Ten, marked with the number 9—exuded an almost supernatural presence.

"You should be grateful," Circe said smoothly, her voice like silk. "If I weren't here, you'd be dead."

Huey grinned. "Oh, Circe, always so cold yet so caring. A healer and a Sensor? Truly one of our greatest assets." He twirled his wooden club in his hands before pointing it at Roshi. "Get your strength back. We'll need you soon."

Roshi sighed but nodded.

Draven's Mind – The Path to Revenge

Inside his tent, Draven sat in silence, his mind replaying the battle with Quag. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He had won, but it had cost him too much Shen. His body wasn't conditioned yet to handle prolonged combat with his All-Creation Eyes, and that was a problem.

I need to manage my Shen better… I need to last longer in battle.

He ran his fingers through his damp hair, exhaling. The moment he tapped into his true potential, he had felt something—something powerful. It had made him feel invincible.

But it still wasn't enough.

He gritted his teeth, his heart pounding with a fierce resolve. I cannot stop here. I won't stop until I perfect myself. And when I do… I'll find Shiki. I'll kill him.

The cold light of the moon cast a shadow over his face, highlighting the determination in his burning eyes.