The First Dragon God-Chapter 57: Old Friends

The pale light of dawn crept over the shattered skyline as Grewishka led his group through the desolate streets.

The air was heavy with tension, every sound amplified in the oppressive silence. Ves had granted Grewishka permission to join their base, but the journey to safety was far from easy.

Grewishka led his group through the crumbling streets, eyes darting to every shadow.

The ruined town they passed through was a graveyard of the old world, filled with rusting cars and collapsed buildings.

In this new world, danger lurked behind every corner. His grip on his machete tightened, the leather of his glove worn smooth from constant use.

"Eyes sharp," he muttered with a low voice. "We move quietly. No mistakes."

The group of twenty-eight survivors followed closely, their footsteps light and careful. Even the children, though tired and hungry, understood the importance of silence. Grewishka had drilled it into them.

This world was no longer forgiving of mistakes and the children have seen first hand what happens when they don’t listen to instructions.

They moved in a tight formation, flanked by two scouts on either side. The scouts had sharper eyes and quicker feet than the rest, chosen for their ability to spot danger before it found the group. It wasn’t long before one of them raised a hand, signaling the group to halt.

Ahead, in the shadow of a fallen building, a group of zombies shuffled aimlessly. The creatures sniffed the air, their heads twitching in unnatural jerks.

The group skirted the area, their faces pale with dread. No one spoke as they moved deeper into the ruins, with deliberate steps.

As they moved, Grewishka’s sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement ahead—a hulking, distorted figure. A mutant beast. Its form loomed large in the dim light, its claws scraping against the cracked pavement.

Grewishka motioned for the group to halt, his voice a low growl.

"Backtrack. Quietly."

The group obeyed, retreating with painstaking care. Hearts pounded as they slipped into an abandoned alley.

They waited in silence, watching the creature sniff the air before lumbering away. Even after it disappeared, no one dared exhale loudly.

They pushed forward, avoiding a large horde of zombies by using the rooftops of abandoned cars as makeshift bridges.

The sight of the undead mass was enough to drain the blood from anyone’s face. Yet under Grewishka’s leadership, the group made no sound and avoided confrontation entirely.

The group continued their journey, veering off the main road, cutting through alleyways and side streets.

They encountered more threats—a giant, vine-like plant whose tendrils twitched as if sensing movement; a pack of mutated dogs that roamed near a wrecked playground—but each time, Grewishka and the scouts spotted the danger early, allowing the group to avoid confrontation.

Despite their success in avoiding threats, the tension never eased. Fear clung to the group like a heavy cloak. Grewishka could see it in their pale faces and the way their hands trembled as they clutched their weapons.

...

Leo’s room.

The atmosphere was calmer. Leo lay on his bed, his breathing steady as he stared at the ceiling. His wounds had almost completely healed, thanks to his regeneration ability.

Fiona, lay curled up at the feet of his bed, her silver fur glinting in the sunlight.

Leo was surprised when he woke up and felt Fiona’s emotions, telling him that she wants to see him.

He was very curious as to the reason why but when he remembered their fight with the mutant ape, he understood why she felt that way. It was for this reason that he told Ves to bring her up to his room.

Leo was actually worried that Fiona might be too big to pass through the doors but surprisingly, she seems to pass them with ease.

Leo stared out the window as he flexed his fingers, testing his strength.

"Almost there," he murmured to himself.

Fiona raised her head, her eyes glowing softly as she watched him.

Meanwhile, Ves and Miguel led their group through the building, clearing out the remaining threats. They moved as a coordinated unit, their teamwork much improved from the chaotic battle days ago.

They moved in sync, covering each other’s blind spots and communicating efficiently. Even Ryan, who lingered at the back of the group, moved with purpose. Yet there was a cold calculation in his eyes.

"Last floor floor and rooftop secured," Ves reported as they moved to the next stairwell. "We are done for the day. Let’s all go back and get the much needed rest."

They made their way down to the first floor, and as they approached the first floor, Ves’ eyes turned sharply, looking into the distance.

"Someone’s coming," she said, her voice steady but alert.

They made their down to the ground floor and the at the entrance, they saw a large group of people approaching the base.

Moments later, the large group became more visible and Ves saw that it was Grewishka’s group.

The sight of so many survivors approaching the base made Ves tense further, but she stepped forward, her sharp gaze scanning each member of the group.

"Any trouble on the way?" she asked, her tone clipped.

"No casualties," Grewishka replied. "We avoided all major threats."

Ves gave a small nod, her eyes continuing to assess the group. She lingered on Grewishka for a moment before shifting her attention to the others. When she was satisfied, she stepped aside.

"You’re clear. Take the second floor. It should be enough space for your people."

Grewishka nodded in gratitude. "Thank you. We’ll make ourselves useful."

As the group filed into the building, Ves turned to Miguel. "Keep an eye on them. We don’t know them well enough yet."

Miguel nodded. "I’ll keep watch."

.....

Later that night, Grewishka sat alone in a room of one of the apartments on the second floor, taking a moment to rest.

The journey had been exhausting, but they had made it with everyone alive. That was no small feat in this world.

A knock on the door broke his thoughts. Before he could answer, the door creaked open, revealing a familiar face—Ryan.

Grewishka’s hand instinctively went to his weapon, but he relaxed when he saw who it was. "Ryan...," he said, surprised. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

Ryan offered a thin smile as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "It’s been a while."

Grewishka nodded slowly. "It has. I wasn’t sure of it that day but it’s really you. Didn’t expect to see you here."

Ryan chuckled, though there was little humor in the sound. "I’ve always had a knack for surviving."

There was a pause, the air between them filled with unspoken words. Grewishka’s instincts told him to be cautious, but the familiarity of an old friend eased his guard.

"What are you doing here?" Grewishka asked.

Ryan’s smile widened slightly, though it never reached his eyes. "I came to talk. About the future."

"The future?" Grewishka’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Ryan stepped closer, his tone calm but carrying a hidden edge. "There’s a lot we can accomplish together. Old friends like us? We could build something out of this chaos."

Grewishka’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. "You’re talking about more than just survival, aren’t you?"

Ryan’s gaze hardened, his smile fading into something more serious. "Survival is just the beginning. I’m talking about control. Influence. Power."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Grewishka’s mind raced, weighing his options. The man standing before him was no longer just an old friend—he was someone who saw opportunity in chaos, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate those around him to achieve his goals.

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And as Ryan’s smile returned, there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes.