They left the swamp behind as the sun broke through thick gray clouds. Mud clung to their boots and exhaustion was heavy in their silence. The world beyond was a stretch of jagged scrublands and scorched stone, all unfamiliar to Zeon.
The air tasted like ash and burnt metal. It didn't smell like home. It didn't smell like anywhere they knew. The Outlands were lawless at best, cursed at worst. But here, wherever it was, even the wind seemed to leer.
Lilith dragged her feet along dry, cracked ground. Her hair stuck to her neck, damp with sweat. Her stomach growled. Her heart felt heavier than her pack.
"This isn't the outskirts of Zone 12," she muttered, eyes scanning the barren stretch ahead.
Zeon snorted. "Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. You want a medal or a map?"
"Next time you get the bright idea to 'take a shortcut through rotwater hell,' remind me to bash my head in with a brick," Zeon muttered, wringing swamp-sludge from his sleeve. His voice had bite, but his body moved differently now. Smoother, charged. The change from Tier 1 to 2 hadn't been flashy. No grand epiphany. Just... more. Power humming beneath the skin. Awareness sharpening like a blade being honed.
She lagged behind, shoulders tense. "You could've said no."
"I did say no. You guilt-tripped me into maybe." He glanced back. "Huge difference."
She glared at him, but the usual certainty wasn't there. Understandable, after everything that happened
He didn't push. Not this time.
She truly didn't know where they were and clearly felt guilty about it. But Zeon? He didn't have it in him to point fingers. This was just another time when his luck fucked him over.
The soul link buzzed faintly between them. Ever since his change...his ascension, the system called it. Lilith acted different too. Her own desire core pulsed more often through their link. Like it was trying to catch up.
They walked until the sky darkened again. Not with night, but with dust. The wind picked up, kicking grit into their faces. That's when they saw it.
A shattered neon sign hung sideways over an archway: ASH MARKET.
The sign from not long ago, leading into the Craver beast den. It was just like this.
"I think we should stay away from it. It looks ominous." Lilith suggested. "That's if you still care about... what I have to say."
Zeon sighed. "Stay away from it. Got it. We should see if we can find some food elsewhere."
But these were the outlands, a barren expanse of devastation and by midday, hunger made decisions for them.
The Ash Market greeted them in ruins: a hollowed-out concrete plaza warped with scorch marks.
Behind it, broken stalls and rusted crates stood. Tents stitched with wire flapped in the wind. Shapes moved in the shadows. People...but not like the ones back in Zone 12. These people had eyes that darted too fast, hands that never stayed still as they scurried this way and that.
Ravers. A fancy name for Desire-addicts. They weren't beasts, but they were crackheads well known to go to any lengths for a high on desire, which meant they were just as deadly.
Most things in the world were, since the apocalypse.
"I don't like this," Lilith said.
Zeon nodded and took the lead, guiding her forward. "Neither do I. But unless you're packing a cheeseburger somewhere in that satchel, we don't have much choice."
They stepped into the market. People stared. Most looked hungry. Some looked armed. The air buzzed with tension, but no one made a move.
A tall man in scrap armor blocked their path. His face was covered with a half-melted chrome mask. He held a rifle made from mismatched parts.
"No food unless you win it," he said.
"Win it how?" Zeon asked.
The man pointed to a steel platform in the center of the square. Burn marks and blood stains decorated it.
"Desire Duel. You give the crowd what they want. Make them feel. Deep. Real. Best hit wins."
Lilith blinked. "That's it?"
"That's it," he said. "No weapons. No killing. Just feeling."
Zeon looked at the crowd gathering around the platform. He could hear them murmuring, hungry not for food but for emotion. Rage, joy, sorrow. Didn't matter what. They wanted something that made them forget where they were.
He turned to Lilith. "I don't have any better ideas."
"You sure?"
He smiled. "I'm always sure. I just happen to be wrong a lot."
They climbed onto the platform.
A loudspeaker crackled to life. "Desire Duel begins in sixty seconds. Competitors: Step forward."
Lilith went first. Zeon hung back, suppressing a measure of unease as the crowd of onlookers grew.
She closed her eyes. Her breath slowed. Then she let her aura bloom.
A soft, golden light flowed from her skin. It wasn't bright or loud. It was warm. Gentle. Healing.
Empathy... that was her root desire, Zeon realized.
The root of every Eros Tier system was tied to that strong, particularly dominant emotion that defined the Tier from the moment of the collapse.
The same root desire determined your potential for the rest of your life.
Empathy, it was not the most promising root desire and did not have much room for evolution. It was no wonder Lilith's healing ability was so powerful, yet she was a Tier 1.
People leaned closer. Their frowns softened. One woman fell to her knees, weeping silently. A man closed his eyes and smiled like he was remembering something long gone.
Lilith didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her light spoke for her.
When she finished, the light faded. The crowd stayed silent, holding onto the feeling.
Then Zeon stepped up.
He cracked his knuckles, rolled his neck, and scanned the watchers.
He didn't have much to share,
The soul link vibrated again...no, not just that. There was something else. Zeon's vision tilted for a second as a hundred pulses lit up in his mind.
Desire. So much of it. Raw, filthy hunger, scraped down to the bone. It clawed at him... it was not his own, but theirs. And suddenly, he understood.
[SYSTEM PROMPT: Channel desire profile?]
> Detected root desire: EXCESS | OBSESSION | RELEASE
> Confirm crowd attunement: Y/N
He whispered, "Yeah."
Although he wasn't certain what he was agreeing to.
"You think this place is hell?" he said. "Nah. Hell at least has purpose. This?" He waved a hand. "This is the trash heap of the forgotten."
Boos and growls rose.
"Yeah, yeah, hiss all you want. You don't hate me. You envy me." He grinned. "Because I crawled through death and came out breathing. Because I don't pretend. I own what I am."
> [SYSTEM TRAIT ACQUIRED: CROWD PULSE]
Rank: Tier 2 Trait
Acquisition Trigger: Sustained emotional resonance during a public Desire Duel
Effect Unlocked: Enables channeling of ambient root desires in the crowd.
Status: Dormant
> "You lack a clear root, but the world is full of them. Now you can borrow what you can't own. Just remember...what isn't yours, can consume you."
He let it sit. Then, like lighting a fuse, he let his new power loose.
> [SYSTEM TRAIT ENGAGED: CROWD PULSE]
Rank: Tier 2 Trait
Trigger: Emotional volatility within 20m radius
Effect: User may absorb and mimic root desires of crowd to project false emotional resonance.
Current dominant root: Addiction (Desire Class: Excess / Obsession).
> "Welcome to the junkie symphony. Crave like they do, burn like they do. But careful...addiction doesn't share."
[BONUS EFFECT – RAVER CROWD ACTIVE]
+20% illusion strength and emotional manipulation.
Chance to trigger mass hysteria or reverence.
WARNING: Rebound effect possible if crowd loses focus. Chance of Emotional Feedback (Disorientation / Obsession).
He didn't push with his own need, because what did he even want anymore? No, he let them push. He reached out with the new trait, tapping into the crowd's howling addiction like he was jacking into a live wire.
Then he mirrored it. Projected it back as if it was always his. Like he'd been born craving ruin and glory just like them.
A wave of twisted emotion rippled outward. Raw envy. Bitter admiration. The crowd stumbled, clutching their heads. Some cried. Some laughed. One man vomited.
The air thickened. Some dropped to their knees, overwhelmed by a hunger they couldn't name. One Raver tore at his own shirt, sobbing.
They weren't cheering because they liked him. They were cheering because they saw their own sickness reflected back...louder, sharper, bolder.
Zeon hadn't just spoken. He'd become their addiction. Their Desire made flesh.
Zeon stood in the middle of it, calm as ever.
"Feel that?" he said. "That's power. And you'll never touch it."
The wave passed. Silence followed. Then, wild cheering.
[SYSTEM] > Desire Core: +5% [SYSTEM] > Emotion Absorbed: Envy / Admiration
[SYSTEM] > Trait Gained: Crowd Pulse – generate a wave that disorients foes
***
Food was thrown across the table to them. Not scraps, real food. Bread, smoked meat, even fruit. Zeon blinked.
"Holy crap," he muttered.
They ate fast, hands trembling. Lilith kept looking at Zeon like he was something new. Something dangerous.
He caught her staring. "If you're gonna kill me, wait until I finish this apple."
"What are you?" she asked.
Zeon wiped juice from his mouth. "Someone who hates losing. That's all."
Lilith stared at him. "I meant what was that back there?"
Zeon didn't look up. "Just leaning into my strengths."
"Your strength is weaponizing the emotions of strangers?"
"No," he said, licking crumbs off his thumb. "My strength is surviving. That just happens to be the method today."
She watched him a moment longer. "You're changing."
She didn't believe him. Not fully. But she didn't push.
He stood, brushing off his pants. "C'mon. We've got a long walk and only a medium chance of dying horribly. Let's enjoy it."
Lilith followed, wondering who he'd be by the time they made it out of the Outlands...if they ever did.