The end had come without warning, as it usually did. Not that he had thought it would be any different for him. It was just that, like everyone else, he hadn't thought it would be today of all days.

His heavy breathing echoed through the dark, empty corridors.

Jackson had never considered himself claustrophobic, but now he felt a little bit so. Because, well...

Because it was a fact that the corridors were dark, but not empty. There was something out there. There was one of those monsters. Of all the centuries and eras he could have been born into, it had been his lot to be born into one where alien monsters plagued humanity.

Those monsters had been attacking for some time, but not long enough for him or anyone else to have been born and raised with it being normal. Just another fact of life.

Even if you were born into a world like that, could you get used to it?

To not being the hunter, but the prey, for the first time in the history of mankind for hundreds of thousands of years, since almost the beginning of everything?

No. No way.

He could barely see a few feet ahead of him, something beyond his cold breath. There was no way he could see what was going on around him, beyond the metal walls, or up on the other side of the ceiling.

Jackson was a normal human. He couldn't see through walls, he didn't have the money to afford that sort of thing.

But, anyway...

He "saw" it.

He saw everything.

For example, people running into elevators only to be torn to pieces the moment the doors opened.

For example, a woman trying to run away and screaming as she fell overboard, only to die in mid"air.

For example, a crowd fighting to escape, doing more to hinder the others than anything else, and soon finding themselves between a rock and a hard place. He could only "see" thanks to his mind reconstructing the massacre from the terrifying noises that reached him.

But it was enough. More than enough, too much.

He felt like vomiting and his legs were weak. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hold on. Dying would be a rest. There would be no more fear or pain.

Pain?

Yes, pain. He had a fucked up leg. But the pain was the least of it, he barely felt it because of the adrenaline. That was the only thing that allowed him to move. To keep moving forward, even though he had no idea where exactly he was going.

All he knew was that he needed to move or he would end up like the rest. Jackson had floated through life with no particular interest in anything. Not his family, not his friends, not his career. Pipe in hand, he had fancied himself a philosopher as he contemplated the meaning of his existence and the meaning of life.

Thanks to having a near-death experience for the first time in his life, he attained true wisdom.

The purpose of life was to live.

Simply living was everything and he didn't want to die in a place like this. He didn't want to die at all.

He had survived the massacre in the dining room by sheer luck. He had made it through the ballroom relatively intact while others had been torn to pieces.

That had to be a sign, right?

Why would he have survived all that only to die now?

It had to be a sign.

(I can see the bone sticking out of the leg, about to snap in two)

a signa signa signa signa sign

No, just luck. Nothing but pure luck.

And it ran out.

Luck always went fast, when it came. If it came at all. A dead end. No, there was a way out, to turn around and look for another way.

But the monster was there.

The one that had killed everyone, and now it was his turn. Actually the first to die had been the lucky ones, hadn't they? They hadn't had to fight, they hadn't had to go through so much fear, they hadn't had to endure this pain, and maybe now they were in a better place, right? A place without fear or pain a place where he could smile in the sunlight again a place where his family was waiting for him a better place a place like home I want to go home god I want to go home.

The monster ran towards him. Its great maw was a gateway to hell.

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Jackson didn't close his eyes. But not because he hadn't accepted his fate, it was just that he couldn't close his eyes. He couldn't move a muscle. For that reason, he saw it.

The wall to one side exploded.

Debris flew through the cloud of dust, some hitting the monster that had suddenly stopped, some going over his head. He thought another monster would come out as well. But no, no, it was just a man.

The man, blond and very tall, jumped straight at the monster's head. He had a sword charged with electricity, or so it seemed, it sizzled, circled the blade and lit it up.

But he didn't use the sword. With one hand he grabbed the creature's head and, taking advantage of the momentum of his jump, with all the strength of his body...

He slammed it to the ground, knocking a beast twice his size to the ground like it was nothing!

What was it?

Just a man? Haha.

Without realizing it, he started laughing for real. Hysterical. No control.

There wasn't a shred of control and normalcy in any of this, it was like a living nightmare, so why not? It was a living nightmare so he just wanted to wake up.

(in a place without fear or pain a place where he could smile in the sunlight)

and go back to his normal life, which maybe didn't fulfill or satisfy him, but that was unimportant nonsense, the bottom line was that it made sense, it was sane.

I want to go home.

And his only hope... was that man.

The monster was basically a giant spider. It had some differences, things that were out of place on a spider, like how human-like its eyes were, but he didn't care about the details, no, rather he didn't want to look at the details. In his opinion, a spider smaller than a person's fist was scary enough. But the blond man faced that monstrosity without flinching or hesitating for an instant.

At least, he didn't externalize those kinds of feelings.

He swung the sword, electrocuting the huge beast. Watching those hairy legs writhe in the darkness, the dozens of eyes widen, Jackson didn't know how he didn't vomit. Maybe he was beyond those things. He felt like he was floating outside his body. A kite at the mercy of the wind. The electricity didn't seem to affect that monster too much. The giant spider brandished its forelegs, tearing....

No, not the blond man's chest.

He backed off at just the right moment, so it only made a cut on his shirt. He saw no blood. Well, what was he going to see with how dark everything was? But it couldn't have been a serious wound. The man didn't even react, he would have at least grunted in pain if it had hit him, wouldn't he? And he kept fighting without wasting even a second.

Slipping between the legs, sharp as swords, with elegance. And swinging the electrified sword dozens of times, slicing the legs, cutting through its stomach, wherever he could reach, he also cut its nose in half and it was only then that Jackson realized that this arachnid monster had a fucking nose, god.

In any case, it all seemed so unreal as if it was choreographed.

He'd pay for things to be that simple if he could make it so. Unfortunately, this was reality. He couldn't hide or escape it. He would live it even if he shut down.

But he couldn't do anything for himself. Everything depended on that blond man, fighting valiantly against a creature that escaped compression. He wished he was that strong, but.... It was already too late for everything.

Wasn't it?

One of the spider's legs dug into the ground. If it had gone just a few more inches to the left, it would have penetrated the man's head. No matter what kind of cybernetic augmentations he had, it was impossible for him to survive a blow with force from such a giant creature, wasn't it?

But even then he acted as if nothing had happened. The bizarre dance continued with the next blow ripping the paw right off. Its blood was a viscous, green fluid. It made it clear that it wasn't a living creature, human or animal.

He noticed that the man made an effort to keep the blood from falling on him. And he understood why a few seconds later.... It was devouring the ground. It may have been blood, but it was also super-strong acid. Incredible.

Size, reach, strength, speed. He had it all against him already, and now that. It couldn't have been a more one-sided fight. His one weapon was barely slowing the spider with each blast.

But still, somehow, he was winning.

Or had he already won? The blond man, who was a normal human, brought the big beast to the ground by chopping off all the legs. Then he plunged the sword into its forehead. Very deeply. Quite naturally, as if he did things like that every day.

Yes, he had won. The giant spider disappeared leaving no trace but a few purple butterflies that flew away from here. He may not have understood much about those monsters, but at least he knew that meant death for them. Even the butterflies would get nowhere and disappear before they could see the moonlight again.

The man turned around and looked at him. For some reason, he hadn't thought he would notice him, so Jackson shrank back as if he were a threat and not his savior. It turned out there was nothing to be afraid of, naturally. He just offered her a hand to help her up.

"Thank you."

He felt stupid. It was too small a word to express his feelings, but it was the only thing that came to his mind.

The man looked away as if his gratitude made him uncomfortable. Maybe he had made a mistake even if it wasn't for the reason he had thought.

"Don't thank me. It's just my job. Besides..."

"Besides?"

He frowned.

"There's another one."

There is. He hadn't noticed. Or rather, he hadn't wanted to notice, but the sounds of the massacre continued even now.

The nightmare that a pleasure cruise had become continued. He couldn't wake up yet.

"What is your name?" Suddenly the desire to know took hold of Jackson, as if it was a way to anchor himself to his savior, to make sure he remembered him and would fight harder for him, as if all that was as easy as getting to know him better and not being just another face among those he had to save.

The man fixed his eyes on him. For an eternity he thought he would say nothing.

But the eternity passed.

"Adam."

And Jackson was relieved in the same stupid way he had wished he knew his name in the first place. Nothing assured him that he was telling him the truth. Even if he was, it meant nothing.

But he was deeply relieved beyond what he could put into words.

***

"That's the second time you've asked me that. Yes, of course I'm frustrated. You should know by now that I'm not a very patient person, despite what I may appear to be. That's always the worst part of this job. Waiting."

Sylvester stopped Cynthia's attack.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around in the air after tossing her away.

Her posture as she fell was funny to him, sort of like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand even though it had its ass and everything else sticking out in the air. He could have pointed it out as proof of his sense of humor, but again sadly it wasn't the time. Besides, he wasn't sure she'd agree with him.

He parried Ryan's double punch with one hand an instant later, while thinking all that nonsense.

Pure instinct, power and skill.

"But playing with you guys makes things a little easier for me in the meantime."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Cynthia, still lying on the ground. With the rope launcher primed and ready. She pulled the trigger and the rope flew out toward his neck.

Sylvester released Ryan's fists and jumped back to dodge the rope.

"And I'm glad we're on the same page. It's best for our health as a team."