’How much longer will I suffer, Nyx?’

A young woman lay curled on a disheveled bed.

The thin mattress dipped under her weight. Sheets twisted around her thin frame, damp from days of sweat.

Her brown hair stuck to her forehead and neck in heavy, greasy strands.

She had not left this bed in a full month.

The room felt suffocating. Thick, rotting food smell left forgotten on the floor filled every corner.

The air hung heavy and warm, pressing down on her chest with each slow breath.

Dust floated lazily in the narrow shaft of light that managed to slip through the cracked window.

The wooden floorboards creaked faintly whenever she shifted, but she moved less and less each day.

Her limbs felt heavy. Her skin itched under the dirty clothes, but she didn’t care. Only staring at the same crack in the wall for hours with unfocused eyes.

’How many days had passed? I don’t know anymore. Are’nt I despicable?’ she spiraled.

A firm knock sounded on the door.

She stayed completely still. Her knees remained drawn tight to her chest. The blanket felt damp against her skin.

The door opened, and a muscular, charming man stepped inside. He wore a white tank top stretched across his broad chest and black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His footsteps were quiet on the wooden floor. "Eris," he called, voice low but clear in the quiet room.

She gave no reply. Neither lifting her head, nor moving under the blanket.

The man walked closer and stopped beside the bed. The mattress creaked slightly under his weight as he leaned down.

"I sent many girls to bring you out. You ignored every single one." He looked down at her curled form. "You are not a child. Get up."

She pulled her knees even closer to her chest. The blanket bunched under her fingers. After a long silence, her dry, cracked lips finally moved as she spoke. "How can I face her parents? She died... right in front of me. I could not do anything."

Her fingers pressed harder into the thin blanket.

Sighing heavily, the man ran a hand through his dark, tousled hair.

For a moment his face softened as he looked at her. Pity flickered in his eyes, softening the sharp angle of his cheekbones.

A second later, his face went still, and his brows dropped low over them. The shift made him look cold and intimidating.

When he spoke again, his voice became flat and firm. "I gave you one full month, Eris. I kept you from every mission. I should have thrown you out on the street." He stared down at her. "Get up."

The mattress creaked again as she moved.

Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself into a sitting position.

Her skin had turned a sickly yellow from lack of sunlight. Heavy bags hung under her eyes. A sour, unclean stench rose strongly from her body and clothes, thick enough to taste in the stale air.

Lying in the same position for days had locked her spine stiff.

Her hair had fallen forward, cutting her from him.

"Look at me," he ordered.

She stayed still.

"Look at me."

Her head lifted. For a second, their eyes locked.

Heat flooded her face and she turned away, biting her lips till it drew blood.

"Stop being a coward," his voice deepened. "Look at me."

Forcing herself to hold his gaze, her shoulders stayed tight. Fingers still clutched the edge of the blanket.

When he studied her poor posture for a long moment. His nose wrinkled at the foul odor clinging to her. "You smell. Bathe. Change your clothes. You have a solo mission."

She gave no answer.

However, he continued, tossing a pair of clothes at her. "Grief is something inexplicable. If you let it control how you live, it will waste whatever life you have left. I am helping you."

Sniffing, Eris’ gaze drifted to the floor. "What even is the meaning of life, Sari sir?" she whispered. "No matter how hard I search, I cannot seem find it."

He took a step closer to the bed. And—WHACK!— he slapped her.

Her head snapped to the side.

Heat flared instantly across her face. A sharp sting exploded across her skin, followed by a deep, throbbing burn.

The force made her ears ring. Warm blood filled her mouth.

Tasting the iron on her tongue, she spat it onto the floor. The side of her face now hot and swollen.

She looked up at him. Her eyes stung and she blinked fast to keep it from spilling over.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

Eris nodded slowly.

His voice rose. "Does it hurt? Answer me."

She jerked back from him, clutching her shirt. "Y-yes, Sari sir. I-it hurts."

"Speak without stammering."

She swallowed. "Yes. It hurts."

The tension in his shoulders eased. A faint smile cut across his face. "Good. Then you have found the meaning of life. It will take time for the wound to heal."

He headed for the door. "I want you ready in twenty-five minutes. Your mission is to find a Crying Flower. It is a C-tier carnivorous plant. I need it as a material for a cure."

Then he left. The latch clicked shut behind him.

Several long minutes passed.

Eris sat motionless on the edge of the bed.

The sting on her cheek still throbbed.

Getting to her feet took effort. Her legs shook under her as she made it to the wash area.

The dirty clothes came off, and she turned the water cold. It felt sharp against the heat still lingering from the slap on her cheek.

She scrubbed until her arms burned and her skin was raw and red.

When she was done she pulled on clean clothes and tied her damp hair back.

Later, she met Sari again outside. He gave her the mission details with few words.

He had warned her earlier about the plague spreading through the sectors. The immune system prize from her last game was still active in her body.

Memories from the zombieland game flooded her brain.

"Ack!" she winced, grabbing her head.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Eris forced down those thoughts aside and focused only on the task ahead.

...even though she knew Sari gave her because he wanted her to leave her bed.

’Is there even anything like a crying flower?’ she thought.

Stepping out of the building made her squint. Sunlight hit her eyes and her eyes watered right away. She raised a hand to block it.

The warmth on her skin felt unfamiliar after spending weeks inside her room.

Under her, the ground felt unsteady and her legs wobbled with each step.

Dust, smoke, and food smells from the stalls hit her nose.

She blinked several times, trying to adjust.

Everything looked too bright and sounded too loud. Each shout and each cart rolling past made her flinch.

Her head was heavy. Sweat formed on her forehead as she pushed herself forward.

----

Hours passed.

Eris asked the few merchants and travelers along the streets. Even with this plague, people still continued to work, or relief heavily on a skill they had to resist the plague.

More hours passed. The sun beated her.

Heat pressed against her forehead and ran down her back in thin lines of sweat. Her shirt now stuck to her skin.

The street was full of people, but none of them had an answer. She stopped three people.

The first shrugged and kept walking. The second shook his head, claiming there was no such thing, and moved past without slowing.

The third didn’t even look up from the sack he was carrying and outright ignored her.

Eris scoffed. ’How rude. But... How does no one know what it was, or even where to find it?’

Her legs felt heavier with each step. The bright light still made her eyes sting, and she blinked against it often.

Dust kicked up from the road and settled on her damp skin.

She kept walking.

The more she walked, the more her calves burned. The clean clothes she’d put on were already damp and clinging to skin.

"What... kind of mission is this? I’m going back home.’

Eris turned, walking back to her faction.

But then she halted. ’Urghh...If I fail, Sari won’t ask again. He may even kick me out. He was generous enough to let me sulk.’ The thought made her head hurt.

She adjusted her grip on the satchel she brought at her side and stepped around a puddle of dirty water.

Then— BAM!!

A small figure collided hard into her side.

The impact jolted through Eris’ ribs and made her stumble back a step. "The hell—!?"

When she looked down, the small figure was a child, no more than eight or nine years old.

Delicate features, messy hair stuck with dirt, and torn, dirty clothes that hung loosely on a thin frame. The child’s eyes were wide and teary, lashes wet, cheeks streaked with dirt and tears.

"Ah—ah! Sorry, miss!" the child gasped, voice high and breathless.

Eris couldn’t tell if this kid was a boy or girl.

However, one thing stood out. The child’s body felt very warm against her, almost feverish.

The small body trembled against her.

"Catch him!" Shouts rang out from behind.

"Hey!!! Don’t let that little thief get away!"

The kid gasped and darted behind her.

Small, sweaty hands grabbed desperately at the back of her coat, fingers clutching the fabric tightly. "Please... save me." Their voice shook.

Warm tears soaked through the back of her clothes where the small face pressed against her. "Please... save me."