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Chapter 13: The Wilderness Survival
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2026-09-19 13:14:12The darkness of the forest felt like a physical weight, pressing against the small, flickering heat of the portable stove. Dimas stared at his empty supply bag, his stomach letting out a hollow, mocking growl.
"Raf, you back?" Dimas whispered, his voice barely rising above the rustle of the wind.
"Yeah. Stay low," Rafael’s voice drifted from the thicket of twisted oaks. He emerged like a shadow, his movements fluid despite the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face.
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"Who is this?" Dimas demanded, his voice cracking slightly as he stared up at the rusted metal grill of the intercom speaker. "Are you a survivor? Are you actually down here?"The intercom crackled with static before the voice returned, a dry, amused sound that echoed off the sterile stainless-steel walls. "A survivor? Oh, my dear boy. No. Nothing so fragile or needy. I am the central operating system of this facility. You may call me Eve.""An AI," Rafael muttered, his fingers tightening on the hilt of his broken sword as he stepped in front of Dimas. "So you’re the one who just tried to turn us into Swiss cheese with those silver drones?""Standard security protocols, I assure you," Eve said, her tone dripping with polite, synthesized indifference. "You did bypass a secure military firewall using unauthorized mana signatures. Frankly, a mild singeing was a very polite welcome.""Polite?" Dimas scoffed, gesturing to the melted metal doorframe behin
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The heavy obsidian doors groaned as they slid fully shut behind them, sealing with a pneumatic hiss that cut off the ambient night sounds of the forest. The darkness that swallowed them was absolute, thick, and suffocating."Well," Rafael’s voice echoed in the cavernous space, unusually loud. "That’s reassuring. I love a grand entrance with no exit.""Raf, don't move," Dimas whispered, his hands instinctively reaching out into the empty air. "I can't see a single thing. Is your gold-eye thing still active?""No, the camouflage stew wore off the moment we crossed the threshold," Rafael said. A rustle of fabric followed, then the sharp, metallic click of his broken sword being drawn. "But I can still hear. The air in here is... dry. Too dry for a cave or an old ruin. And it smells like old copper.""Wait, I have a lighter," Dimas said. He fumbled with the pocket of his backpack, his fingers brushing against the cold plastic of his mini-torch. He
The Apocalypse Chef and the Iron-Hearted Soldier Chapter 13: The Wilderness Survival
The darkness of the forest felt like a physical weight, pressing against the small, flickering heat of the portable stove. Dimas stared at his empty supply bag, his stomach letting out a hollow, mocking growl."Raf, you back?" Dimas whispered, his voice barely rising above the rustle of the wind."Yeah. Stay low," Rafael’s voice drifted from the thicket of twisted oaks. He emerged like a shadow, his movements fluid despite the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. "The woods are crawling, Dimas. I counted at least three scouting parties within half a mile. They’re using some kind of thermal-pulse skill. Every time a bird flushes, they’re on it in seconds."Dimas sighed, leaning his head back against the rough bark. "Any luck with the bags? Tell me we didn't lose everything in the blast.""We’re officially out of rations, kid," Rafael said, sliding down to a crouch beside him. He tossed a handful of dry cedar branches near t
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The gate behind them didn't just close; it sealed with a heavy, pressurized hiss that echoed through the unnaturally quiet courtyard. Dimas felt the sound vibrate in his teeth."Welcome, Chef," the man in the white robes repeated, his voice smooth and airy, like he was reciting a well-rehearsed prayer. "We’ve been waiting to see what you could do with the ingredients we provide."Dimas stared at the kitchen. It was a masterpiece of stainless steel and industrial precision, sitting right in the middle of a world that was supposed to be rotting. "You’ve got a lot of high-end hardware for a place that's supposedly hiding from the system.""The system provides for those who understand its true purpose," the man replied, gesturing toward the gleaming countertops. "I am Brother Julian. We are the architects of the New Table."Rafael stepped up beside Dimas, his hand never straying more than an inch from the hilt of his broken sword. "The 'New Table'? Sounds like a cult name if I ever heard
