"Tomorrow, Mr. Davis, tomorrow," Marie said firmly as she walked toward her home. "If you can't wait that long, find Elaine. Maybe she can help you."

The person following her, a tall guy well into his forties, paled. "Ah, no… no need for that, ma'am. I will just wait. Have a good night."

And just like that, Mr. Davis made his escape.

She shook her head. Maybe she really was too soft with the people of the Oasis. Everyone avoided Elaine just because she yelled and cursed at a few poor fools. In contrast, the same people acted like Marie could fix all their problems. It was starting to get a little annoying.

Also 'ma'am'? She frowned, her mood taking yet another hit. I don't look that old, right?

No answer, of course. So she settled for quietly grumbling to herself. And if the people who saw her looked at her funny? Well, that was their problem. She had a very, very long day. She earned the right to be a little grumpy.

Home at last, she thought as she unlocked the pad to the only entrance of her house. And yes, it was her house. Or rather hers and Elaine's. And maybe Isaac's too. Though he wasn't really around those days, so it was hard to tell.

Marie shut that thought down fast. Thinking about their wayward teammate would only sour her mood further. She didn't want that. The night was for relaxing, sleeping, and gathering strength for another exhausting day of work. She could worry about her suicidal friends tomorrow.

Closing the door behind her, she crossed the dark room until she reached the table in the center of the house. There, she grabbed the standing lamp she bought from a guy passing through the Oasis, and flipped it on.

Light washed over the space, and she let out a breath when nothing seemed out of place. Sure, there wasn't much here in the first place, but all of it was hers. That mattered. She even got this little shack fixed with the help of a wood-user. No more gaps in the walls or water dripping from the roof. Now she just had to figure out how to get a bathroom in here.

Traveling to the Battleworld just to take a shower was getting quite irritating…

Another project to add to the list, she mused, dropping onto her makeshift bed. Far from perfect, but again, it was hers. Gotta tell Elaine to find more pillows, though.

Marie nodded to herself and opened the communication menu. The message to her co-leader didn't take long to create. Just a small list of the items they needed and some other minor stuff.

That done, she opened another message. For a moment, she waited for the usual warning to pop up. When it didn't, she smiled.

You're still on the Battleworld. Good. Your sisters must be going mental. Now, how to start today's—

Marie never finished the thought. The menu vanished, replaced by a large screen. When a familiar figure appeared in it, all traces of exhaustion vanished from her mind.

Fisk, she thought, her eyes narrowing.

After five more seconds, the screen came alive.

The Overlord Broadcast spread his arms, the usual grin plastered across his face.

"Welcome, Humans of Earth, to this quite special transmission!" Fisk announced. "Today, you shall have the pleasure of witnessing the first of your race fight for his life after ascending to Infamy S-rank during his invasion."

Two more screens appeared on the sides of the first one. The left showed a bird's-eye view of a massive volcano, surrounded by legions of Zerians. Most were staying put, while some were headed for one of the many tunnels leading into the mountain.

What the hell is this? Marie wondered, her gaze drifting to the second new screen. The sight there froze her cold. Isaac?

Her friend looked worse for wear, eyes closed as he sat leaning against what had to be a cavern wall. But, yes, it was definitely him. The familiar dark blade lying across his lap only confirmed that.

No…

She didn't even get time to process the image before her, though. The Overlord was speaking again.

"Most of you probably have no idea how invasions or Infamy ranks really work. I could explain for days, but I won't." Fisk's grin sharpened. "We got a show to watch after all! So instead, let me just say this guy got quite the balls on him. Will he survive what's coming? I sure hope so! I got some money riding on it."

Marie's fists clenched. She didn't get angry often. Hell, among her friends, she probably had the best control over her emotions. But this? Hearing Fisk treat Isaac's life like nothing more than a sport? It made her want to let go of her rage and scream at the heavens.

And the bastard was still talking!

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I know you all would love to hear more from me, but today, I will just let you watch," Fisk said with a mocking bow. "Who shall win? The army of Reprizem or one Isaac Walker? Let's find out. Eight hours to extraction."

Just like that, the middle screen blinked out of existence, leaving just two live feeds. A moment later, a small timer appeared in the corner of each. A bit over eight hours. The extraction.

It didn't take a genius to understand what it meant. Not that she hadn't heard of it before.

Not good, not good.

She drew deep breath after deep breath. There was nothing she could do but watch, and she hated it. This was her friend—an important part of her new family. She couldn't lose it, not when she just got a semblance of it back.

Come on, Isaac. Survive.

As if hearing her, his demonic eyes snapped open. The blade vanished from his lap as he rose to his feet. For a moment, he just stood there, scanning the few nearby tunnels. Then, his body transformed, and he was off.

The camera kept up without an issue, following every sharp turn and dive through narrow gaps. The monsters he encountered weren't as quick, though. Some didn't even get enough time to turn their head before the blood raven vanished again.

Where are you going?

Without sound attached to the live feed, it was hard to tell if Isaac was chasing after some noise. But what else could it be? The way he chose his path was far from random. He never hesitated at crossroads and just pushed onward, like he knew exactly where he was going.

And, judging by what came next… maybe he did.

After another sharp turn, Isaac burst into a wide tunnel, one crawling with burning salamanders. He ignored them, of course, and continued until he reached a large chamber ahead. There, a squad of three Zerians fought against the monsters almost back to back.

Her friend went straight for them, his body flashing crimson.

A heartbeat later, an explosion of blood swallowed the Zerians and some nearby monsters. Once the red mist faded, only corpses remained on the ground, with Isaac standing above them. Before more monsters could reach him, though, he transformed again and vanished into another tunnel.

"My god…" Marie muttered, her eyes still glued to the screen.

She knew her friend was powerful and had a ruthless streak a mile wide. It always showed in the way he fought. But this? He had butchered those aliens in seconds without hesitation.

It should have been scary, terrifying even, to watch her friend kill other Hosts with such efficiency. Yet all Marie felt right now was hope. Hope that Isaac would survive. Hope that he would return. Hope that her new family would stay whole.

Survive.

Blood.

It was all Isaac saw as he danced between monsters and Zerians alike. He got lost in the battle. In the thrum of his Core. In the Symphony playing in his veins. And in the gleeful cackle that echoed from the Root in his hand.

Nothing else existed.

Fight. Kill. Survive.

He pounced on another Charred Troll, driving his blade through its neck. The beast died on the spot, but Red Puppeteer brought it back. A quick order had it charging at a squad of Zerians farther down the tunnel. They had yet to spot him thanks to the sheer amount of monsters here, and they never would. Not even the location reveal could save them.

Good luck, he thought, already transforming and leaving the aliens to their fate. Some beasts tried to follow, but a salvo of Crimson Deaths cut off their path. His sheer speed did the rest.

Final Extraction in: <3h:46m:53s>

For over four hours now, he had been fighting like this. Always remaining on the move. Always killing when the opportunity showed itself. And the Zerians tried their best to find him; they really did. But between so many monsters, the endless maze of tunnels, and him never staying in one place, they couldn't do much.

This was still an Unregulated Quarantine Site, far away from any Safe Zones. Here, Isaac was just one threat among many.

That said, he couldn't keep this up forever. But stopping for rest also wasn't an option. He had to continue, keep sowing chaos, keep dragging the Zerians into different corners of the volcano. It was that or letting them reorganize, surround him.

Can't stop.

He slammed into another unsuspecting group, Cursed Draw cleaving through the first alien. Mid-transformation, he hurled a Crimson Death at another already locked in combat with an Ember Salamander. That just left one.

Isaac wanted to leave, save his dwindling strength, and let the monsters deal with the survivor. But then, he heard more shouts echoing from the tunnels. Reinforcements. They were catching up.

Shit.

He glanced back toward the way he came from, but it was already a dead end. Monsters were constantly spilling out of that tunnel. He had brought quite the horde with him here.

Fuck.

Burnout activated, pulling on the last bits of blood stored in his Core. The Symphony grew louder, and he shot toward the incoming horde. The final Zerian and the incoming reinforcements could wait. There were enough beasts here for everyone. He just had to get lost in the chaos and slip away when the chance came.

Not dying here.

A Cursed Draw ripped through a duo of smaller Ember Salamanders. Three more and a Charred Troll replaced them, forcing Isaac to sacrifice more Viron for a salvo of Crimson Deaths.

Faster! Faster! he growled, always moving, always swinging.

At some point, a Zerian reached his position and pounced on him, obviously having a death wish. He gave the alien just that. But the moment his blade ended the guy's life, the Symphony roared a warning.

Isaac tried to turn. Too slow.

An invisible force slammed into his back and threw him into the path of a charging Salamander. Hurting and disoriented, he just barely rolled out of the way even as flames washed over his body.

A grunt slipped past his lips as he looked up, catching a glimpse of a Charred Troll and an Obsidian Golem coming to end him. Whoever had sent that blast of air at his back was nowhere to be seen. Not that he could see much in the first place, with how blurry his vision had become.

Move! He screamed at his body, sacrificing his own blood to fuel another burst of Burnout. It was enough to dodge the incoming monsters and summon the Root back to his hand. I need to go.

But before he could transform, a deep rumble came from his blade. Another echoed through his mind as he dodged a swing from the Golem. Then, something reached for both his Core and the Storage Brands engraved into his wrist.

Isaac understood right away.

Think you can help? Very well.

The Root vanished from his hand. Blood filled his sight.

Maker's Shell.

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