The red moss covering the pavement was quickly dispersing under his feet as he ran.
"Idiots. Lighting a fire here? That's basically an invitation for monsters, saying 'come eat me.' There was a reason I was munching on raw meat this entire time."
As he ran, he thought about it and decided to help himself.
"Oh winter, oh wind from the north, come aid me in my search. Come lighten my tired feet, quicken my stampede. Thus is my will: blow under my feet, wind!"
He hadn't really tried such spells before. But the more he thought about it, the better it seemed. This was a magic system completely open to creative minds like his. Magic here was what he had always imagined it to be: a nearly all-powerful force for those who were strong enough to use it. His accounts in all the MMOs and RPGs he played were almost always mages. Why would you be a sword-wielding dude when you can control the fabric of reality? He let himself be thrown into a train of thought as he crossed the streets.
He imagined and thought about what kinds of feats he would be able to pull off if he had more circles and, therefore, a stronger will. How far could this power go? Can it manipulate the spacetime continuum? Or manipulate energy—implying the manipulation of weight—leading to the ability to increase the force of impact? Or what about accelerating an object? Even the smallest grain of sand could have great energy if accelerated to high speeds. His thoughts raced to Einstein and his famous equation. Even the tiniest matter is made from a sea of energy; if I could convert matter to energy, I could carry magic equaling the destructive power of atomic bombs.
"Or what about the deeds I could do in science? I could help provide proof for string theory or unite general relativity with quantum physics by confirming the quantization of gravity or potentially finding the graviton..."
His thoughts stopped, however, as he saw his final destination. He slowly crept into the building and, without a sound, continued on. Only now did he realize the true nature of humanity. Only now did he realize that whoever waited there didn't have to be a welcoming cohort, but a party of brutes inviting him as their victim. Well, he could just kill them; he definitely wasn't somehow overpowered, but for human standards, he would be considered superhuman even now.
He slowly got to the corner and gazed unnoticed into the small, cozy room.
He was right. It was truly a fire; three small, dark wooden logs lay on the ground and were now charring. Above them was a makeshift hanger where something was clearly being cooked in the not-so-distant past. And judging by the smell of meat and the sight of four people eating, he could say it was meat.
As for the people, it didn't seem that his doubts were correct this time. These four seemed like a welcoming group.
Around the fire sat a young boy and a girl. She captured his attention first. And why not? The sight of a gorgeous girl was the right thing he needed after spending a week in this fucked-up world. She was surprisingly tall and seemed to be just one or two years younger than him, which was around 18. She had a short cut and was clothed in long trousers and a simple T-shirt. They were clearly her pajamas. Sanguine was now thankful he wasn't transported with what he slept in—that was nothing.
The boy, on the other hand, seemed to be around the age of 15. He was a little short for his age, but his body was of the same shape as Sanguine's. It was slim and clearly unathletic. That was contrasted with the treated injuries he had on his arms and the little bit of bloodstains on his T-shirt. He wore pants identical to the girl; they were likely siblings. His eyes showed horror and trauma but were hidden behind glasses with one lens missing. Sanguine assumed he was in a fight—no, more likely he was ambushed by something and ran away. And he clearly saw how.
Behind them stood a tall, muscular man wearing a tight black T-shirt and military trousers and boots. On his side rested a belt with a gun and a knife. His face was sharp, and he had very short dark hair. Sanguine could guess his age was around 35. And in his hand was a Terror Core with one circle and one knot.
The situation seemed to come together in Sanguine's head. These four were traveling, perhaps toward the wall, because they came to the correct conclusion that there would be fewer monsters. However, they were ambushed by the wolf-like abomination; the kid ran away, and the soldier killed it. He would bet a lot that, in the same way his umbrella is sharp and coat is indestructible—well, almost—the man's knife and gun were also special in some sense.
The fourth person was sitting in such an angle his face wasn't seen, but by the way he was crooked, short, and how grey his hair was, he was clearly very old. Next to him on the ground lay a walking stick.
This was the cohort he had just run into. He himself was very combat-able, which seemed to be very much in need in this hellscape, but now he wondered how to approach them without scaring them. The soldier was sharp and his hand rested very close to his gun, ready to draw at the slightest sign of danger. He probably understood that making a fire here was a truly stupid idea but still allowed it for some reason. But Sanguine didn't want to end up with a bullet in him. He thought about it for a while and then decided to create a small ghost he would send in first to announce his presence.
"Above or below ground, a soul rests uneasy. I summon you, ghost of the underworld. Come to this world for a bit and bathe us in your... whiteness."
'I have no idea what I am doing; this will be such a fuck-up.'
"Please answer my call. Thus is the will of Maledictus Sanguine. Come forth!"
There was a little pause where nothing happened, and then a little paper ghost showed up. It slowly floated into the room, waving in the slight wind.
In the next second, it was pounded by three bullets coming from the soldier, now in focus and ready to murder anything that would pose a threat.
'What are you shooting at, you dick? If I were there, you would have just shot me. I am so glad I sent the ghost.'
"Do not feel alarmed," he said, as he slowly walked into the room. "I come in peace. I am human, as you see. I came because I saw a fire, in hope there are other survivors. Just please, don't shoot from that thing again. I am not a Jedi to deflect bullets."