The scraping sound of a rock echoed as it was lifted from the ground, allowing the surrounding light to spill into the small hole.

  A rectangular metal box reflected in Ark's golden eyes. He sat in front of the small opening, his gaze fixed on the object inside.

  Scattered fragments of a wall surrounded the hole. Seeing this, he casually tossed the rock behind him.

  He then reached out with that same hand to pick up the box. Almost simultaneously, the sound of the discarded rock hitting the concrete floor rang out.

  Looking briefly at the box in his hand, he glanced back over his shoulder. The view revealed a wide courtyard, open on both the left and right, allowing the daylight to stream in.

  About ten meters behind him lay the rock he had thrown, now shattered into pieces with white dust scattered across the ground.

  He turned his attention back to the front, reaching out with his left hand to fully grasp the box before standing up.

  Ark looked to his left, revealing a street bathed in the sunlight that fell upon the ground.

  Seeing this, he raised his right hand—the one holding the metal box—to check his inner wrist. The watch displayed 16:43.

  He lowered his hand and turned his gaze to the right. The sight of an adjacent office building came into view.

  Looking through the building's windows, he noticed that the interior was visibly growing dark. He then turned back to the front and spotted a restroom door on his right.

  Taking a step forward, the sound of his boots echoed across the parking lot. As he arrived in front of the restroom,

  he looked up at the signs separating the men's and women's facilities, then proceeded to walk into the men's restroom on the left.

  But before fully entering, he peeked inside. Sinks lined the left wall, while the toilet stalls were on the right.

  He walked over to the first sink and set both boxes down beside it before turning around to check the stall doors opposite him.

  Seeing only a toilet bowl inside the first, he moved on to check stalls 2, 3, 4, and 5. Confirming they all held nothing but toilets, he returned to the sink.

  He stared at his reflection in the mirror. It revealed a man with black hair and golden eyes, his face covered in dust, wearing black leather clothing with his arms and torso wrapped in white bandages.

  Those bandages, however, were now thoroughly stained brown and gray. Noticing this, he began to undress, the rustling sound of clothing filling the quiet space.

  The leather jacket was placed on the sink, followed by a gray long-sleeved shirt. Soon, the white bandages dropped next to his boots, leaving him to examine his bare body in the mirror.

  He inspected his physique, particularly his arms. Whether it was his right wrist, his left, his shoulders, chest, abdomen, or even his neck—

  —almost everything had turned black. Even so, his natural tan skin could still be seen peeking through between those blackened patches.

  Ark leaned forward, placing both hands on the sink. He brought his face closer to the glass and stared deeply into his own eyes.

  He found that his pupils remained pitch black, even though the irises around them had completely turned a golden yellow. Stepping back slightly, he spoke up.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  "Two weeks, huh? Easy for you to say, Vic. Look at this state—let alone two weeks, I don't even know if I'll survive these next two days."

  I let out a soft sigh and looked down at my right arm. Almost the entire forearm had turned black.

  Standing up straight again, I used my left hand to stroke my arm. It felt coarse and solid, like perfectly forged steel, prompting me to raise my hand and tap it two or three times.

  The slight vibration traveling from my arm to my brain made me sigh again before looking up at my bare reflection in the mirror above.

  Just then, the phantom pain of being shot in the back last night returned. I turned my left shoulder toward the mirror to check the reflection.

  What appeared in the glass was the back of my left arm where the bullet had hit. The flesh there had turned black, with dark patterns spreading outward like the sprawling branches of a tree.

  However, those branches only extended a little way from the point of impact, leaving the majority of my back its original tan color.

  I reached my right hand back to touch the spot, only to find that I couldn't feel anything at all when my fingers grazed the area.

  "...Looking on the bright side, I guess I'm more durable now."

  I smiled faintly before turning back to the sink. Reaching for the metal box I had just dug up, I opened it, sending a small cloud of dust into the air.

  Inside lay the supplies: three packs of wet wipes and two rolls of gauze placed side-by-side on the left.

  On the right side rested two small bottles. Labels reading "Alcohol" and "Water" were taped to them as they lay flat in the box.

  Resting on top of those bottles was a piece of brown paper, wrapped around something circular.

  Seeing this, I took the two bottles out and stood them up on the sink, setting the emergency rations down beside them before removing the three packs of wet wipes.

  That revealed two blister packs of pills hidden beneath the wipes. I took them out, placing them to the side, and then grabbed the rolls of gauze.

  Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be anything else hidden underneath. I put the gauze back and turned my attention to the wet wipes.

  Tearing open one of the packs, I pulled out a warm wipe and began cleaning my face and body, dropping the used wipes onto the floor.

  It didn't take long before all three packs had been tossed aside. I pulled out a roll of gauze and started wrapping my left wrist up to the elbow, then did the same for my right arm.

  I finished by wrapping my chest with the last of the gauze. Picking up my gray long-sleeved shirt, I noticed the bullet hole in the back and the bloodstains clinging to the fabric.

  I only glanced at it briefly before slipping it on. I threw the leather jacket over it, pulling the gray hood up over my head. Turning back to my reflection,

  I was met once again with a clean-faced young man in a hood. I then looked down, grabbed the two bottles and the emergency rations, and walked out of the restroom.

  I sat down right outside the restroom door, looking outward. Placing a bottle on either side of me, I turned my focus to the emergency rations in my left hand.

  Unfolding the paper revealed three cookies inside. I raised an eyebrow slightly at the sight of them.

  Tucking the wrapping paper into my pocket, I picked up one cookie—as thick as a thumb and as wide as a palm—and took a bite.

  A crisp crunch echoed, but after chewing for a while, I swallowed it down. Silence returned to fill the surrounding air as I looked down at the cookie in my hand and spoke.

  "Was this left buried for too long? It literally tastes like nothing."

  I sat there staring at it quietly for a moment before popping it back into my mouth, speaking between chews.

  "Next time, I should probably pack some salt in the box, too."

  I sat and chewed through two of the cookies until only the last one remained. Looking at it, I smiled faintly and wrapped it back up in the paper, then reached for the water bottle and drank half of it.

  I set the water down and slipped the alcohol bottle into my right pocket. Standing up shortly after, I grabbed the water bottle and walked back into the restroom.

  I stopped in front of the metal box and placed the remaining cookie inside, before glancing at the other box beside it, which brought a slight smile to my face.

  A moment later, I walked out of the restroom with the black box slung over my shoulder, its broken strap now fixed with knotted rope.

  Standing in the parking lot and looking out toward the street, I noticed the sunlight outside the building had dimmed until it was almost entirely gone.

  I started walking toward the road. But before leaving the parking lot completely, I turned to look at the sky outside and saw the sun sinking behind the buildings.

  It would soon vanish from sight altogether, accompanied by massive gray clouds creeping into the city from the left.

  Seeing this, I stood watching the storm front until a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the heavy clouds.

  Taking that as my cue, I finally stepped out of the building, turned to the right, and walked down the street at an unhurried pace.

  Reaching the intersection, I took a left. Fierce winds battered against my body as I headed straight into the gathering storm.