Apocalypse Awakening

Chapter 8: The Pulsating City

The subway station was only about a kilometer away from Sean's neighborhood, but the journey required them to pass through a bustling square. Despite the late hour, the square's railings were occupied by groups of high school students. They slung their school uniforms around their waists, some sporting bright white hair, oversized silver earrings, or tattoos peeking out from rolled-up trouser legs. They shared cigarettes and passed around bottles of alcohol, pausing their raucous laughter to stare emotionlessly at Sean and Layla as they passed by.

Sean and Layla avoided direct eye contact with these angry youths; making eye contact with them could easily spark unnecessary conflict, even for adults. After moving past them, mocking laughter and whistles echoed from behind, as if declaring victory over their silent defiance.

Walking silently beside the somewhat dazed Sean, Layla refrained from breaking his contemplative silence until they were well away from the hostile group. She then lit a cigarette, offering it to Sean, who didn’t usually smoke. He coughed at the minty sting, but it seemed to kickstart his numb mind.

“What in the world is this?” he asked hoarsely, voicing a vague question.

“It’s exactly as you've seen,” Layla replied softly. “We live in a living city, constantly under its watchful gaze. Some believe we've been pulled into this false, insane world by a powerful, indescribable being that mimics everything familiar to us. Others say our world was invaded by this unknown entity, which then devoured our city.”

“There are believers of both theories, each finding evidence for their beliefs. We, however, believe in the former. It comforts us to think our real homes still exist, even if unreachable.”

Sean struggled to grasp the meaning behind Layla's explanation of the two theories. To him, both seemed irrelevant in the face of the terrifying reality that their city was alive.

“How could a life form exist as a living city?” he wondered.

“For higher beings, existence in any form is possible. It's just beyond our comprehension,” Layla explained softly. “Our current goal is merely to learn how to survive in such a city.”

“Survive?” Sean found the word provocative. “How do we survive in a world full of monsters, in a city that is itself a monster?”

Layla smiled subtly. “Of course, suicide is also an option. The gun is still in your hand. Whether you choose to end your life or keep it for protection is entirely up to you.”

Sean was taken aback by her response, contemplating it seriously. After a moment, Layla, noticing he had made no move towards the gun, gradually smiled and nodded. “It seems you've chosen to live.”

“Yes, to live on,” Sean affirmed. “Even without any reason, wanting to keep living is our most precious quality. After all, reasons can always be found as long as we are alive.”

"I definitely don't want to die," Sean candidly answered the question, looking at Layla with a somber gaze. "But how am I supposed to live?" He glanced back at the group of truant middle schoolers, who seemed to be surrounding and tauntingly beating a homeless man, kicking around his bag filled with belongings. "With monsters all around this city, how do we survive?" He lifted the gun Layla had given him. "With this? Does it actually work?"

"That's a different question," Layla responded with a smile. "Once you've decided to live, you naturally have to strive towards that goal." As she spoke, she walked over to an old ATM at the street corner, looking at Sean with a smile. "Moreover, we can try to appease 'him', can't we?"

"Appease?" Sean incredulously looked at the towering, uneven buildings and the deep-sea-like lights of the city.

"Yes," Layla continued. "As living beings, everything we encounter, including those playing various roles, are parts of this city. Sometimes the city falls ill, breeding aberrant creatures that can cause disasters, or it’s influenced by other mysterious wills. And 'he' needs our help to resolve these issues."

"As long as we're willing to act on his will and help him heal, we can gain his favor. His malice makes it difficult for us to move around in this city, surrounded by monsters. His favor, however, can grant us everything."

Sean followed her gaze to the ATM. The machine, covered in scratches and exaggerated graffiti, had a camera scanning them like an eye. After a brief wait, the screen flickered rapidly, displaying a message amidst dark red backgrounds and tangled lines:

[Name: Sean]

[Age: 21]

[Contract: Low-Level]

[Points: 30]

Surprised, Sean looked up, "What's this?"

"It's the city's favor towards you," Layla said softly, smiling. "Malice can't be measured, but favor can. You've just helped the city by taking care of a rat-man... well, you did fire the last shot, so it counts as your deed."

"So you've earned his favor, and such favor is often represented in the form of points. As long as these points aren't exhausted, you won't feel the city's hostility. Everyone you meet will continue playing their roles... You can even pretend that nothing in your life has changed."

Sean found the situation somewhat absurd and wanted to ask how one could pretend nothing happened while living among creatures disguised as humans. But as the words reached his lips, he suddenly fell silent, wondering if he had always known what lay beneath their appearances.

"It gets easier with time," Layla said casually in response to his hesitation. At the ATM, she helped Sean with a few clicks, advising him, "Go home, get a good night's sleep. Remember this score; it's the most important thing. Tomorrow, I'll arrange for someone more professional to teach you how to use these points to strengthen yourself. But be prepared."

She turned to him seriously, "In this city, the only way we can survive is by solving its problems, curing its diseases. But I must say, some things are truly terrifying. Neither you nor I can guarantee that we will survive the nightmares that this city throws at us. That's why if you had chosen to shoot yourself earlier, I wouldn't have stopped you. Living here is no easier than turning the gun on oneself."

A card with flesh-like texture and dark red color was dispensed from the ATM. Sean held it in his hand, standing at the subway entrance, watching Layla's figure gradually disappear into the hazy streetlights. After a long while, he turned and walked towards his home.

Approaching the dark and deep alley, he looked up. When he had walked through it with Layla earlier, he hadn’t felt anything special. But returning now, it seemed like entering a giant mouth. The neighbor's three fierce dogs had eyes flickering like ghost fires, watching him eerily. The old phonograph behind the white curtains on the second floor let out a hoarse scream, like tortured souls struggling in hell. At the end of the alley, a butcher in a blood-stained apron, towering at three meters tall, held a bloody chainsaw, staring intently at his prey on the meat rack.

Sean stood in the middle of the alley, feeling the intertwining of cold gazes and bizarre sensations enveloping him, the tangible fear penetrating his heart, yet he remained silent. He stood defiantly in the darkness, without a word, insisting on his existence.

For four years, he had struggled in fear and pain, gasping for survival in his small bedroom. Enduring countless torments and nightmares, he trained his focus and forced himself to adapt to thinking normally under immense pressure, all just to return to the world.

But now, as he had finally made it, ready to walk the streets normally, the world seemed to have been stolen. At that moment, a flame of frustration rose in Sean's heart, a desire to reclaim his world from the vast and writhing city...

But after a long time, he simply lowered his head and slowly walked towards his bedroom.