A woman wearing a green uniform stood in front of a holographic projection. Her black ponytail hung out of her peaked cap, resting against her lower back. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she was chewing on the end of a pipe, white steam pouring out of the corners of her mouth. She narrowed her eyes at the image of the pale, bluish woman hanging out a window and reaching towards the sky, a vortex of shadows gathered by her sides. She muttered to herself, “Calamity…, no, an apocalyptic-level threat.”

“The, the location!” one of the men sitting behind her shouted. There were a group of soldiers sitting in neat rows with computer screens in front of them. “This…”

“What?” the woman asked, crunching down on her pipe. “Why are you hesitating? Spit it out!”

“General Park,” the man said while saluting. His clear eyes stared straight into the woman’s. “It’s the Anaheim Miehana’s apartment, the descendent of the hero’s.”

General Park’s face paled. If a calamity-level threat appeared in the descendant’s apartment and corrupted the moon, didn’t that mean the hero’s descendant was defeated? “Pull all of our special forces out of [Resolution]. Open the teleportation channels. I want all the black berets gathered in ten minutes!”

Within thirty minutes, a sizeable army had gathered outside of Anaheim’s apartment. The whole city had been evacuated without alerting the inhabitants of the apartment. An illusion had been pasted against the windows and a sound barrier had prevented the commotion from reaching inside. The black berets filled the corridor, waiting outside the apartment with black rifles held in both arms, pointing at the ground. They wore gas masks with night-vision goggles, and they had armor woven from the silk of diamond-eating spiders. General Park stood at the head of the group, her ponytail tucked within her armor. She glanced at the soldier beside her, who nodded. She nodded back and swiped a card, causing the door to slide open. The soldier beside her pressed his back against the wall and tossed in a cylindrical container without looking.

A second later, there was an enraged roar. General Park exhaled and signaled for the soldiers to charge in. Judging by the volume and mana behind the roar, the sleeping gas wouldn’t have any effect. The black berets filed into the apartment, guns at the ready. There was another roar, and the soldiers were promptly tossed back out without even a chance to react. A cow with bloodshot eyes trampled over them, pushing them out into the corridor. A black light flashed, and a hole appeared in the cow’s head. Moments later, it fell over onto its side, dead. The black berets stared at the fallen cow.

“…”

Stomping sounds drew their attentions back to the entrance. It was filled with smoke, but the soldiers could clearly see past it with their goggles. A demonic figure with two horns rushed towards them, its eyes blood-red. It leapt through the air, letting out a fierce cry, “Moo!”

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

Another black light flashed and the cow died before it hit the ground. The soldiers once again stared at the fallen cows.

“…”

Pattering sounds echoed out, causing the soldiers to train their guns onto the entrance. “Why is it so smoky? Did they break through the door?” a childlike figure coughed and waved its hand in front of its face as it stepped up to the doorway. Its eyes were round and large. Cute cat ears jutted out of its head, and an adorable tail was swishing behind it. Its eyes glistened at the fallen cows, and it grabbed their tails, ignoring the soldiers. “Ah. They died. Well, that makes eating them easier.”

The soldiers stared at their general, who stared at the tiny figure dragging two half-ton cows into the apartment. Gurgling sounds filled the air until the door slid shut behind the cows with a click.

“General?”

General Park was at a loss. Before she could decide what to do about the child inside, the door slid open again. A woman wearing a bloody apron with a meat cleaver hanging from a belt on her waist stepped outside. Blood smeared her arms and cheeks, and there were bits of entrails on her boots. The soldiers let out gasps, and black lights flashed repeatedly, filling the woman with holes.

“Stop!” General Park shouted. The woman, who now resembled a pincushion, wriggled as her flesh regrew, her injuries disappearing as if they never existed. “I apologize, Anaheim.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Anaheim asked, gripping her meat cleaver while glaring at the soldiers. “Looking to die? Who the hell shoots a woman without asking questions first? Irresponsible!”

“I sincerely apologize for my subordinates’ actions,” General Park said, falling to her knees and lowering her forehead to the ground, staining her goggles with blood.

Anaheim snorted, glaring at the soldiers one more time before hanging her cleaver back on her waist. “What’s the general of special operations doing outside my house?”

“Earlier…,” General Park said as she stood up. She removed her mask since most of the smoke had dissipated. “Did you…, the moon. Did you see what happened to the moon?”

Anaheim nodded. “Yeah, really weird stuff, huh?”

General Park’s eyes narrowed at Anaheim’s neutral expression. “Before our satellites were destroyed, there was an image of a woman manipulating shadows. She was standing inside of your apartment.”

Anaheim nodded again. “Yes. I saw her and fought with her too.”

“You fought with her?” General Park’s eyes widened. “The result?”

“I had dinner with her, then she left saying she wanted to establish her domain.”

“You defeated…, did you say dinner or defeated?”

“Dinner.”

“And … she left?” General Park’s mouth fell open. She closed it and swallowed, hardening her expression. “Can you please cooperate with me on this? I don’t understand.”

“If you wanted me to cooperate, maybe you shouldn’t have shot me,” Anaheim said with a snort. She stepped back inside the apartment, the door closing.

General Park hesitated, her hand hovering in front of the doorbell. Before she could make a decision, the door slid open again, and a group of sleeping men were tossed into the hall.

Anaheim appeared behind them, dusting her hands off. “They saw everything. You can talk to them instead. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a date.”

The door closed again before General Park could respond. A wry smile appeared on her lips. She asked even though she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, “But … the cows?”