Zeph couldn't move either of his hands. They felt completely numb, as if all sensation had vanished from them. And he had only just realized it.
He looked around again. He knew there was something out there, lurking in the darkness and watching him. That could only mean one thing.
Danger!
Zeph quickly spun around and sprinted as fast as he could, refusing to look back at whatever was stalking him. At that same moment, he began to realize that the figures from before were chasing him, moving swiftly through the distant areas to his left and right.
They ran just as fast as him, maybe even faster. Yet they only followed from behind and from the sides. He could see their presence through the violent rustling of bushes and the shifting shadows. Even though he could catch glimpses of them, he had no idea what kind of creatures they were.
“What the hell are those things?!”
Zeph stumbled and was thrown forward. Unable to move either of his hands, he crashed straight into a tree and slammed against it hard.
A moment later, he heard loud howls echoing from several directions. For the first time, he realized they sounded like wolf howls.
No way!
He was in serious danger.
Zeph hurriedly pushed himself back up and started running again. Even though he could barely move his hands, he forced himself to keep going. But in this condition, maintaining his balance was becoming harder and harder.
Every now and then, he glanced at his hands. They seemed to be rotting at an alarming speed. What had started in his palms was now spreading farther up his arms.
“Are... are my hands going to rot away?”
Cold sweat poured down his face as he ran for his life, gasping for breath while trying not to think about what might happen to him.
If both of his hands were destroyed, how was he supposed to fight monsters?
This was bad.
No, this was far worse than bad.
Both of his hands were affected, not just one.
Zeph kept running, noticing how the monsters still hadn't attacked him directly.
Why?
What were they waiting for?
They were clearly fast enough to catch him, and they should have been able to attack already. Yet they only kept pace with him, circling from different directions as if they were herding him somewhere.
Maybe they were waiting until he became completely exhausted before striking?
There seemed to be a lot of them too.
A dozen, maybe even more, judging from all the movement surrounding him.
Zeph needed to get back to that group of undead corpses as quickly as possible. He could only hope that if these same wolf monsters appeared there, the undead would react the same way as before and keep the creatures occupied.
“Just a little farther, just a little farther.”
Zeph was truly running without caring about anything else, even as his heart hammered so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest, even as his legs felt ready to break beneath him. Still, this was better than becoming food for those wolves, right?
“What would happen to my body if I died and ended up torn apart inside a monster’s stomach?”
He swallowed hard just imagining it. Even though he could come back to life, what if he no longer had a body to return to? That sounded even worse than death itself.
Zeph could clearly feel that both of his arms had started to go numb, and parts of them even looked as though they were rotting away. This was really bad. If this continued, his whole body might end up crumbling and decaying as well.
He had no idea how long he had been running. Zeph had completely lost track of time, but it truly felt as though he was on the verge of losing consciousness when he finally spotted a faint light ahead. Zeph pushed himself even harder, sprinting faster before launching himself forward the moment he broke through the line of trees.
His body shot through the air, weightless for a brief moment, before slamming into the ground and rolling several times. Sharp pain flared through both of his arms.
Panting heavily, he immediately forced himself into a sitting position and looked back toward the forest.
“They’re not going to follow me out here, right?”
Panic rose inside him as he glanced behind him toward the undead that were still lying asleep. If those wolf monsters followed him here, things would become even worse, especially if Zeph could not get any help from these undead soldiers.
Still gasping for breath and nearly blacking out, Zeph forced himself to stand and move farther into the clearing. Not too far in, but far enough from the corpses to find a relatively clean spot to rest. After looking around, he chose a large rock and sat down.
“My hands...” Zeph said, his voice trembling as he stared at them. They had turned completely black, as though they were rotting, and even the flesh looked dried out and shriveled. They looked just like the hands of the undead.
“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered quietly, the words slipping out somewhere between resignation and helplessness.
Zeph had gone through far too much to be shocked by the possibility of losing the use of both hands. He had endured things far crueler than this. His head had been severed. His body had been cut apart. His chest had been pierced through.
But... losing his hands would not kill him. And if this became permanent, why did the thought of it feel so unbearable to Zeph?
Trying to calm himself down and think of a way out, Zeph simply sat there, unable to do much of anything. He was starving.
After a moment, he awkwardly lowered his backpack to the ground. He paused for a second, then cursed under his breath. Holding the backpack firmly between his feet, he bent down and grabbed the zipper with his teeth. He held his breath as he tugged at it, struggling until it finally slid open.
Trapped inside a rift. Completely alone. Surrounded by things that wanted to kill him. And now he was even losing the use of his hands.
He did his best to take out some dried meat from his backpack. It was stored in a small box, and he genuinely struggled with the simplest movements.
How long were his hands going to stay like this? Was this really something that would never recover?
Damn it! DAMN IT!
He cursed loudly when he found himself struggling just to eat. He was hungry. He needed food. Zeph felt like screaming at the top of his lungs. This was too much.
His hands still had not recovered like they had before.
If this spread through the rest of his body, then even if he came back from death again, he would only have a body like those undead corpses. He would end up becoming one of them, endlessly returning to life over and over again.
“But the good thing about being undead is that you don’t need food and water, right?”
Zeph tried to make a joke out of the situation, trying to cheer himself up, even if only a little.
And honestly, it worked.
He laughed.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Then he leaned back and remained there, waiting. Maybe he would stay until night finally came, whenever that was. Waiting for the undead to wake up so he would at least not be alone anymore.
Seriously, this was even worse than when his father had locked him in his room for almost two days without giving him any food.
At least back then, he had still been in the human world.
But here?
Here, he did not even know if anyone would ever find him.
Zeph felt an overwhelming exhaustion wash over him, so heavy that he could no longer resist it. Eventually, he gave in and lay back, letting the rift continue on in its own endless rhythm while he simply closed his eyes. He was too weak to do anything else.
Then... after who knew how long, Zeph sensed movement around him.
His eyes slowly opened, and the clattering sound of the small box echoed beside him as it slipped from his lap and hit the ground. It was already night, and the moon seemed even brighter than it had been the night before.
Zeph turned his head when he realized the undead had awakened once again. They were all standing now, scattered around the area surrounding him.
He tried to wipe away the drool that had escaped from the corner of his mouth while he slept. He raised his right hand, then suddenly froze.
Wait.
He could move it.
Zeph lifted both hands and stared at them. They were still blackened, their skin looking rotten and decayed.
But...
He slowly flexed his fingers.
They moved.
Normal?
Honestly, they felt normal. As if nothing had happened at all.
Wait.
Had the transformation already spread through his entire body?
Zeph quickly lifted his shirt and looked down. His stomach was normal. His chest was normal. Both of his legs looked completely normal too.
What about his face?
He quickly pulled out his Awakener Device, which he had hidden in his back pocket, and used the camera as a mirror.
Oh.
His face looked normal as well.
At least, as far as he could tell, the decay had not spread any farther. For now, it seemed to be limited to his hands alone.
Feeling hungry, Zeph decided to continue the meal that had been interrupted earlier that day. Thankfully, he had already prepared some supplies. There was dry bread and some dried meat as well. He needed to ration it carefully if he wanted to survive inside this rift, at least until he found the others or discovered another source of food.
“What’s done is done. No regrets,” he said to himself before finally starting to eat.
The simple meal tasted incredible.
Of course it did.
He was starving.
After a while, he glanced toward the undead. They had begun moving. Almost the entire undead army was facing the same direction. A moment later, they began to march.
“Looks like they're heading somewhere,” he thought. “Just like the green undead did yesterday.”
Zeph hurriedly finished eating before taking several long drinks. He drank so quickly that some of the water spilled down his chin. Afterward, he quickly packed everything away and got to his feet.
He needed to follow wherever these undead were going.
That was still a much better option than staying here alone with the possibility of those monsters from earlier returning to hunt him down again.
Zeph quickly got himself ready, adjusting his backpack before fixing the makeshift cloak made from wolf hide around his shoulders. It covered most of his body, helping to conceal him from view.
Honestly, it did not look that bad.
At the very least, it helped him blend in with the group of undead surrounding him.
A small smile appeared on his face.
The undead slowly marched around him. Zeph started walking as well, matching their somewhat sluggish pace as he fell into step with the procession.
He kept a firm grip on his sword. Combined with his hands, which were just as dark and rotten-looking as those of the undead, he doubted anyone would recognize him as a living human among them.
Seriously, no one would ever guess that he was human while standing in the middle of this undead procession.
This was still better than wandering around without any direction at all, wasn't it?