Evolution begins with an ant colony

John’s thoughts raced. "Undead? Is he talking about skeletons and zombies? Like the ones in manga and anime?" The notion was unsettling, yet strangely intriguing, considering they were now living through a scenario straight out of fantasy.

Gritting his teeth slightly, John managed to regain his composure. He inquired with a firm tone, "What about the adventurers in this village? Have you sought their assistance?"

The guard responded, his words tinged with urgency. "We’ve already informed the guild. They should be arriving soon. But our village lacks a substantial number of adventurers and guards, so we’re in dire need of help. Please, heroes, lend us your strength." His plea was accompanied by a respectful bow.

John’s mind raced with worry. "This is bad," he thought. "Not only have we never faced monsters before, but we’ll be going up against an entire undead army."

Suddenly, Chris spoke up from behind John. "Come on, John," he urged. "Why keep the guards waiting? Let’s hurry over and help."

Mina, with her characteristic confidence, chimed in. "John, it wouldn’t be very heroic to leave them waiting when they’ve asked for our assistance, would it?" Her tone carried a hint of smugness, emphasizing their status as heroes.

Motivated by the spirit of their newfound roles, both Chris and Mina offered their help without hesitation.

The guard expressed his gratitude. "Thank you truly," he said, then turned to lead the way to the village walls. He urged them on, his voice filled with urgency. "Please, run. We must hurry." n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Meanwhile, John remained behind, a hesitant figure in the midst of impending battle.

Chris’s enthusiasm for the impending battle was evident as he cast a glance back at John. He couldn’t help but notice that John wasn’t following him and Mina toward the gate where the horde of undead awaited.

Fueled by the anticipation of the fight, Chris called out to John, his voice filled with a spirited encouragement, "Come on, John! Don’t be a slowpoke. This is our chance to show how amazing we are. They may have an entire army, but maybe, just maybe, luck will be on our side, and we’ll come out on top!"

His words hung in the air, a rallying cry to urge John to join them in the face of this daunting challenge.

John’s thoughts raced as he pondered their sudden predicament. "You fools," he mused, his inner voice laced with concern. "Rushing headlong into battle without a plan. Is it courage, or just pure recklessness? Relying on luck? What a turly foolish notion!"

John’s thoughts spiraled back in time to a period when life was still anchored on Earth, before the extraordinary destiny that summoned him and his classmates as heroes. His mind wandered to a particular memory involving his older sister, Serah, who had been an intrepid investigative reporter, always on the trail of uncovering secrets.

On one fateful night, John vividly recalled the phone call that would forever etch itself into his memory. The connection had been poor, plagued by static that garbled her voice. He strained to make out her words through the interference.

"Hey, John... *shhhh* I need you... Hav... *shhh* come over to an abandoned warehouse at the east... *shhhh* outskirts of town," Serah’s urgent message had been punctuated by what sounded like distant gunshots.

*Bang* *Bang*

Experience tales at empire

His heart pounding, John had demanded in a worried voice, "Serah! Are you okay?" But just as quickly as their conversation had begun, the call abruptly cut off, leaving him with a deafening silence that weighed heavily on his chest.

True to his sister’s plea, he had hurriedly dressed and made his way to the eastern outskirts of town. Abandoned warehouses dotted the desolate area, a testament to its disuse. There was no vehicular traffic in these parts, as the road was infamous for its degradation. So, John had set off running, pushing his limits to reach his sister as fast as possible.

In the rush, however, a misstep had caused him to stumble, resulting in a painful ankle sprain. Despite the agony that shot through his leg, he refused to succumb to the pain, limping onward towards the decrepit warehouse, albeit at a slower pace.

Finally, upon his arrival at the scene, a scene of sheer horror had unfolded before him. Serah lay unconscious in a pool of her own blood, gunshot wounds to her abdomen staining her clothes. "Serah!" John had cried out, his voice trembling as he rushed to her side.

The dire situation had become all too evident, and he realized that immediate action was required. Frantically, John had fumbled through his pockets in search of his phone to call an ambulance. However, the lack of signal in the desolate area had rendered the phone useless for that purpose.

In that critical moment, John knew there was no other option. He had to transport his sister to a hospital or at least somewhere with a signal to call for help. With great determination, he hoisted Serah’s unconscious body onto his back, the pain in his injured ankle intensifying with each step.

While making his way towards the city, John had stolen glances at his phone, desperately hoping for a signal to surface, but his attempts were met with nothing but frustration.

Serah’s condition continued to deteriorate, and in a frantic attempt to stem the bleeding, John had torn off his own white T-shirt and bound it around her abdomen. The makeshift bandage had quickly become soaked with her blood, and her body had grown unnaturally cold.

However, in a miraculous turn of events, Serah had stirred, her voice barely above a whisper. "John, is that you?" she had murmured, her eyes searching weakly for her younger brother.

John felt a wave of relief washing over him as he heard his sister’s voice. "Sarah, you’re awake!" he exclaimed, a mixture of worry and relief in his tone. "You have to try and rest. You’ve lost too much blood."

Serah’s weakened gaze fell upon John’s strained face, and she couldn’t help but notice his odd gait. Her voice, frail from the blood loss, quivered as she spoke. "You... sprained... your ankle, and you... are...

walking on... it?" Her concern for her brother was evident.