CHRONICLE GODSFALL
1. Young scavenger
Sunset is the color of blood as it illuminates the desert. The scavenging clock has arrived.
Cloudhawk woke up with a throbbing pain in his stomach. This familiar sensation had accompanied him all his life and filled many of his memories. The scavengers refer to it as 'hunger', and it is considered an eternal curse that the Creator has pronounced upon all living things.
If he once again failed to find food, he would not have survived that night.
What will he do tomorrow? This is a question that even Cloudhawk has never considered. Tomorrow, for scavengers, 'tomorrow' is a wasteful word that they cannot worry about.
Cloudhawk painstakingly crawled out from the burrow he had hidden inside. When his feet once again stood on the burning ground in the rubble, he was suddenly struck by a powerful musing spell. The surrounding ancient ruins were filled with collapsed fences and dilapidated walls, as well as pieces of corpses falling from other worlds. The once enchanting buildings that had been erected here had been reduced to piles of worthless rubble, buried and forgotten by the desert sands and sands of time.
The skinny young man was a very small figure, dwarfed by the howling sandstorm that ruled this place. The wind blew through her disheveled black hair, covering her slender and youthful face. His withered body was covered with a few strands of dirty cloth, and his rough, callused skin was filled with new and old wounds. However, his eyes were clear and alert. This is the only thing that sets it apart from the rest, the ordinary scavengers.
Cloudhawk was only fourteen or fifteen years old.
The life of the scavenger is very simple. Spend about twenty hours each day hiding in a hole or burrow, avoiding the scorching heat and the stinging cold. Only at dawn and dusk can you climb out of your hole and search for food inside the ruins. Day after day, year after year, this cycle repeats itself. This type of life seems rather dull, but scavengers view the folly as an extraordinary blessing.
Cloudhawk could not help but think of the old man.The old man was an unconventional scavenger who had survived the change of time. Not only did he know how to read the language of the Ancient Times, he also knew many things that scavengers should not know. He loved to tell stories and enjoyed collecting useless items, especially tools, paintings, and books from the Old Age. The only one he could share these things with was Cloudhawk, so the two of them became the only friends and friends of each other.
This morning, the sun rose as usual, but this time, the old man did not crawl out of his hole.
Still, the old man was a lucky person. At least he had Cloudhawk to bury him.
Cloudhawk did not want to think about what would happen to him if he himself fell. He did not have much meat left on his bones, but starving scavengers were generally not picky about their food. The mad meat merchant would probably cut his body into eight pieces, suck his flesh to heal him, then hang him on their rusty steel hooks. They will keep some of the meat for themselves, swap the rest for slightly contaminated drinking water. For the sake of survival, many are willing to eat anything, do anything.
Sometimes, Cloudhawk envied the others. However, the old man had told him a long time ago that if humanity threw away the last vestiges of its decency and morality, the entire human race would be completely destroyed.
He was so hungry that he could barely walk.
Cloudhawk dragged his thin body through the ruins, looking like a piece of straw tossed about by the wind. He felt as if he could faint at any moment. The scavengers have long since cleared the ruins. Finding food is not an easy task.
Will he fail this task again?
Will this be the last time he sees the sunset as well?
Cloudhawk sat lifeless. The setting sun was descending past the horizon, painting the ruins with its blood red glow. He saw a goshawk hovering in the sky, meandering through the clouds, and he could not help but reveal a hint of jealousy in his gaze. When he gave himself the name 'Cloudhawk', it was because he wanted to be like one of the eagles that flew through the clouds, free and unfettered, it was nothing more than a crazy dream. Doesn't it?
Things are not over.
He can't give up. He won't give up!
Right at this moment, he suddenly heard the sound of hasty footsteps that sounded in the distance. Cloudhawk jumped to his feet like a surprised beast, unsheathing the metal shards he had been grinding sharply for a long time as he warily gazed into the distance. This is a chaotic and crazy era. Every day, there would be starving scavengers trying to kill their own kind, and their victims were often skinny children like Cloudhawk.
And indeed, the sound of footsteps drew closer until finally, three ragged-clothed scavengers suddenly appeared within his line of sight, charging towards him at high speed.The Cloudhawk's face paled as he retreated two steps. He was now so weak that strong winds could knock him down. Three scavengers attacked him at the same time? There was no way he could get out of this alive!
Wait for. Waitaminute!
Something has gone wrong!
Although all three of them had savage-looking faces, they did not have a killer-looking like a predator approaching their target. Instead, they looked like prey to fear filled with horror and despair.
They don't attack. They ran away for their lives!
Just when Cloudhawk started to have a bad feeling about this, a large group of black creatures suddenly appeared right behind the fleeing scavengers, charging straight at them. There should be at least ten things. They were roughly the size of a stray dog, and their eyes were a terrifying mortal red.
Cloudhawk stood there for a moment, his mind engulfed by all of this. Only one thought was able to pass through the frenzy in his mind, an instinct that came from his soul…
RUN!
The threat of death is something that carries the full potential of every person.
Somehow, his completely thin body managed to squeeze out another burst of energy. Cloudhawk wasted no time trying to figure out exactly what was behind him, nor did he want to. He already knew the only thing that mattered those – mutabeasts, those savage mutabeasts, were truly fearsome predators.
Inside the ruins, and even throughout the wastelands, the scavengers were at the very bottom of the food chain. How could they possibly fight such terrifying mutabeasts?
The first one to fall was a woman. He is the slowest of the three.
"Save me!"
"Save me!!!"
"SAVE ME!!!"
One of the creatures stuck his sharp fangs into his neck, then pulled him fiercely. Blood spurted out like a hot fountain, enveloping the area in a deep red color.
Second monster. Thirdly. Black figures were vying to get to him, and pieces of bloody flesh were torn from every part of the woman's body. In the blink of an eye, his stomach was torn apart and his intestines and internal organs were dragged out.
It was bloody, cruel, and terrifying!
For a moment, screams of fear and suffering could be heard, reaching out like ghosts of death towards the other three. Some mutabeasts were too slow to get a piece of meat, so they continued to chase the remaining scavengers. They're too fast. Just three seconds later, another scavenger was captured by them.
“AHH!”
"NO!"
The sound of broken bones and torn flesh caused Cloudhawk's entire body to cool down!
As the terrified Cloudhawk turned the corner, a scene that made him despair greeted him. The rubble had completely sealed off the road in front of him. This was a dead end that he could not cross!
What's he supposed to do? What's he supposed to do?
A third scream of agony was heard as the last scavenger was dropped.
Three of the mutabeasts leaped straight past the bodies of the last scavengers, moving like flashes of black lightning as they dashed towards the helpless, scrawny young man. The danger! The danger! The danger! Cloudhawk could sense that death was imminent. If he hesitated even for a moment, he would never be able to recover from it.
Turning means death. His only choice was to give all of these last attempts!
Ignoring what came from him, he went straight towards the rubble and dove into a deep but very narrow hole.
There is no way an adult can get into this gap. Even the skinny form of Cloudhawk could barely enter. and a moment later, he heard a rustling sound as one of the mutabeasts tried to chase after him, unwilling to give up on the chase!
The Mutabeast was so close that Cloudhawk could already smell its stench.
It all depends on a thread. This was a critical moment, a moment when life or death would be decided.
Although he was filled with despair, Cloudhawk did not hesitate as he turned around, metal shards in hand. The dark figure pounced straight at him, his blood-red eyes shining brutally in the darkness. His fangs were as sharp as knives, and he would stick them into a piece of prey that stood in front of him, then tear the piece apart.
Cloudhawk let out a low roar like a beast as he stabbed wildly.
The creature howled in pain as it crashed into Cloudhawk. Its sharp claws left several bloody scratches all over Cloudhawk's body, but Cloudhawk managed to squeeze his head down. The hole inside the rubble was really very narrow, leaving the creature with no way to escape the clutches of Cloudhawk.
"DEAD! DIE!" Cloudhawk became more savage than the beast as he used his metal shards to stab over ten times at the creature's head. A large amount of foul-smelling blood filled the surrounding area, coating his face, his hands, and his clothes. Two of the other animals circled the hole, but they could not enter. After hearing the pitiful howls from the one who entered, they immediately turned around and left this place. As for Cloudhawk, he could not move. He gasped for breath, his oxygen-deprived brain turning dizzy for a while. Right now, he really did not have enough energy to move as much as a pinky.
After the last burst of frenzied energy, his body was once again swept away by waves of fatigue and weakness. He had ignored the exhaustion of his body, and was now demanding that he pay ten times what he had just squeezed.
For the first time, he could see up close the creature in front of him.
It is a creature with greasy slippery black fur, long and sharp claws, and scary red eyes. It almost looked like a huge mutant rat. Still, it doesn't matter. The important thing is that there should be more than five kilograms of meat on that thing.
This is food!
Cloudhawk became excited once again. He used his metal shards to tear apart the creature's hard skin, then carved out some extremely fatty meat innards that he stuffed into his mouth. It tastes sour, spicy, and coarse, but for the humans who live here in the wastelands, it is the most delicious of all delicacies.
Cloudhawks usually survive on ants, beetles, and grasses. He had not eaten meat for a long time. As the food slowly descended into his stomach, a warm feeling quickly spread throughout his body. The aches and pains in his body seemed to be reduced, replaced by a sense of contentment that was too beautiful to describe with words.
He ate until his wrinkled stomach re-enlarged. Only then did he finally stop, a happy expression on his face.
The mutabeasts outside were long gone. Cloudhawk dragged the prey he had personally killed as he began to return to his burrow. He would be able to eat five kilograms of meat for the next few days.
But just as Cloudhawk pulled the corpse out of the hole, a voice as loud as a ferocious beast suddenly sounded. "Put the meat!"
Four or five adult scavengers blocked his way. The leader looked burly, and his face was filled with savage-looking scars, giving him a horrifying and ominous look.
These scavengers had noticed the commotion in the region some time ago, so they hid themselves in the surrounding area, hoping to scavenge some bones from death. In the end, they meet a child who carries the prey he has killed.
Fancy and fatty meats make their mouths watery.
Scar-faced man growling, “Let down. Meat. COMING DOWN!"
Cloudhawk stared at them in silence, the look on his face was similar to that of a wolf, a gaze full of danger. The two sides stared at each other across the ruins, like a pair of ferocious beasts weighing against each other. In fact, in this era the boundary between humans and animals was very blurred.
Put down?
I almost changed my life to get this meat. You want me to put it down !?
Cloudhawk wastes no time with words. Like an angry young beast, he threw himself straight ahead and landed a punch right in the injured man's face.There was no question as to who would win this battle. In the end, Cloudhawk was nothing more than a half-grown child. How could he defeat so many grown-ups? In the best-case scenario, the end result was that he suffered a few blows, then watched as the flesh was about to die to be taken from him.
……
The night finally came down.
Covered within the wound, the young man slipped back into his burrow like a beaten dog. He felt no hatred or resentment towards the scavengers who had stolen his prey. As a child raised in scavenger camps, he had long become accustomed to the rules of abandoned lands.
In abandoned lands, there is no such thing as 'principle'. The only law is a strong law!
The strong will have food, slaves, and women. The weak will be enslaved, harassed, and robbed. This is how the land is. In this world, in this age, in this place. Being weak is a type of sin, in and of itself!
The moonlight poured into his burrow, bringing with it a bone-chilling chill that could not be resisted by the blanket. He was so cold that he curled up into a ball, but the wounds covering his body made it impossible for him to fall asleep.
Instead, Cloudhawk chose to sit down. He picked up a metal box, blew away the layer of dust covering it, then lifted it up and looked at it as if he was staring at the most precious treasure. Slowly, carefully, he pulled brightly colored objects from inside the box.
He stared interestedly at these photos, his gaze distant and dreamy. These are images that parents have painstakingly collected over the years. It was a testament to the fact that the Old Age really did exist, but the passage of countless years began to cause the images to fade and become unrecognizable.
Every time he looked at them, his young heart would inevitably speed up his beat.
Every time he looked at them, the pain, hunger, and injuries he suffered would be slightly reduced.
Every time he looked at them .. No matter how much despair he felt or how dark the world was, he would feel as if he could still see some flickering light.
Ancient Age, Old Age! What is a magical and dreamlike world?
Back then, people were clean and handsome. The cities have prospered and grown. There were no dangers, no terrifying mutabeasts, no brutal mutant humans, and no scavengers struggling to stay alive in the remote wastelands.
Is that era really going to end?
Is it possible to still survive and survive in some corner of this unknown world?
Cloudhawk's pitch-black eyes blazed with vigor. He really wanted to roam the camp and roam the wastelands!
It was as if a metal seal had long been tied deep within his soul. This was a wish that had arisen a long time ago, when he was very young. Just then, the old man asked him: Why? The camps are dangerous, the ruins dangerous, and the abandoned land even more dangerous. This path is a certain death road!
“That's because I was born into this world! Since this world chose me to enter into it, I deserve to see it well!
“Quickly or later, I'll go looking. I'll find that utopia, that kind of paradise. If I could catch a glimpse of it, if I could have a chance to stick my lips to the ground beneath it. Even if I were to die in the next moment, I wouldn't regret anything!”.
The old man was silent.
From that day on, she kept the child by her side, shared a meal with him and taught him to read. The boy had spent years straddling the line between life and death!
The old man once said that some people are born to be free, like eagles. They may grow in a chicken coop, but sooner or later they will spread their wings and fly into space.
Does he really have that chance?
He could not even escape the ruins, let alone wander into the endless and far more dangerous wastelands.
The old man often spoke of destiny. Everyone, he said, has their own destiny. No one can escape that fate, no matter how hard they try.
Is this my destiny? I won't believe it!
The young man had been filled with torment from the wastelands, but he was still filled with wild spirits, and his eyes still shone with indescribable and irresistible flames. He slowly placed the metal box under his head, using it as his pillow. Only then did his exhausted body finally fall into a deep sleep.
