Dark Divinity

Janelle, the second girl, moved quickly to Anna's side with a look of urgency. Her eyes briefly met Omen's, and despite the situation, he couldn't help but notice the incongruity of her impressive physique—particularly her noticeably massive rear. He pushed the thought aside immediately, focusing on the pressing situation.

Janelle nodded to Anna's order, her movements quick and efficient. She approached Omen with a determined look, clearly prepared to handle whatever Anna required.

Omen began a slow form of blinking, making sure to maintain the illusion of coming back to his senses. If he could keep Anna off-balance, it might give him the edge he needed to navigate this dangerous situation.

Janelle placed her hands on Omen's temples, her touch surprisingly gentle. Her eyes focused intensely as she began to work, and Omen could sense her aura shifting as she employed her abilities.

"How were you able to survive two purges despite being so weak?", she asked simply. Omen was already prepared.

"I've been fortunate to have allies who are strong and... more capable than me. They've helped me survive. But... I've also learned to read situations and adapt quickly." Janelle's eyes narrowed slightly, studying his reaction closely. She seemed to be evaluating the authenticity of his response, her yellow irises still fixed on him.

Omen however, focused on keeping his answers vague but honest enough to pass Janelle's scrutiny. He aimed to provide just enough truth to seem credible while withholding details that could give away his actual strength or plans.

"What are your abilities?"

With a tone of resigned honesty, he replied, "I've told you about my beast summoning. As for other abilities, I have night vision..."

He paused, allowing a moment of vulnerability to seep into his voice. "I've had to rely on my instincts and the skills I've picked up from others. The beasts I summon... they're unpredictable and often a threat to me more than anything else."

Anna's eyes flickered with irritation, clearly frustrated by Omen's apparent lack of additional information. Janelle, however, seemed more focused, continuing her probing.

"That also coincides with the report from Jacobi's gang, he nearly killed them twice with this ability", Anna said more to herself, than her allies.

"Night vision and beast summoning... that's all?" Janelle pressed, her yellow eyes searching for any hint of deception.

Omen maintained his composure, forcing a weary nod. "Those are the abilities I seem to have been born with."

His words were designed to emphasize the idea that his abilities were not as impressive as they might appear, while subtly reinforcing the notion that his true strength lay in his adaptability and survival instincts.

Anna, still visibly frustrated, glanced at Janelle, who seemed to accept Omen's explanation. The atmosphere remained tense as the others waited for Anna's next move.

Omen continued to project a sense of vulnerability and uncertainty, hoping it would mask the true extent of his abilities and keep him safe from their immediate scrutiny. Sensing it was about time he snapped out of his fake reverie, he blinked his eyes rapidly and then rubbed his eyes slowly.

Anna's face showed a mix of frustration and strained politeness as she attempted to regain control of the situation. "Looks like you're fully back to your senses," she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "

Janelle, meanwhile, looked visibly relieved that her skills had worked, she had never dealt with a darkling and so she felt she wouldn't be able to bypass their mental immunity. "Seems like you're better now. We were worried when you passed out," she said, her tone light as if trying to diffuse the tension.

Omen maintained his dazed expression, though his mind was alert, processing their reactions. "I don't remember anything," he said, still feigning confusion. "But it seems I've missed quite a bit."

Anna's gaze narrowed slightly as she studied him, weighing her next move. Despite her irritation, she managed to keep a composed exterior. "Well, if you're truly back to normal, let's just say you're fortunate. We have a lot to discuss later, but it's best if we wait until we're all settled. I'll keep an eye on you though."

As Anna turned to leave, the other two girls followed her, casting occasional glances back at Omen. He could sense that Anna was still wary and might have suspected something, but her frustration at not getting the answers she wanted seemed to override her immediate actions.

Everything seemed to be fine now, which should be enough to keep them engaged. With a confident smile, he returned to his room.

…..

The air in the room was dense with a faux stillness, which accentuated the slow shuffling of cards and the low murmur of his roommates' talk. They had no idea he had entered or had just decided not to care. 'weren't they the same people who tried to kill each other a while back', Tame's presence here stunned Omen the most. He knew he had a hostile relationship with Malek, but they were both sitting down and playing cards together.

"Are you guys real?" Omen asked, his voice tinged with mock confusion but underpinned by genuine curiosity.

Tame and Kiba turned to look at him, their expressions unreadable. Malek, however, remained focused on the game, his brow furrowed, and face flushed red as he contemplated his next move.

"The cards aren't real," Tame replied nonchalantly. He stretched out his hand, and multiple objects materialized from thin air: a dagger, a small vial of glowing liquid, and a handful of strange coins. The objects floated briefly before dissolving into nothingness.

Omen blinked in surprise as the figures faded into nothingness. The air shimmered with residual magic, leaving the room feeling even more surreal.

"Wait, you can manifest objects?" Omen asked, his genuine curiosity breaking through his initial shock.

Kiba chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, the scrap metal can just create holograms. This card game is a hologram in itself, just more realistic." He dropped a checkmate card and smiled, clearly pleased with his win. "It's not as fun without real stakes, but it passes the time."

The Gynoid's robotic blue eyes deepened, and it responded in a blank tone, "I'd appreciate it if you refrain from calling me scrap metal. I am unit A—"

"Hah, checkmate!" Malek screamed out of nowhere, his voice echoing through the room. He had been the one struggling the most with the unfamiliar game, so winning before the creator was a great feat in itself.

Omen couldn't help but smile at the scene. Despite the strange, tense atmosphere, there was a brief moment of levity. But beneath his smile, a dark thought lingered: in a few hours from now, they'd probably have to kill each other.

The reality of their situation cast a shadow over the moment. The looming threat of betrayal and violence was never far from Omen's mind, even as he tried to appreciate the brief respite from their grim reality.

"You guys should have fun. I'll be back soon," he said, turning to leave the room. As he reached the door, Tame's voice stopped him.

"Don't be too enraptured by the demoness."

Omen paused, the warning hanging in the air like a dark omen. He turned slightly, meeting Tame's gaze. There was a mixture of amusement and seriousness in Tame's eyes,

"I'll keep that in mind," Omen replied, his voice steady. He exited the corridor, and the door closed softly behind him as he exited the bunker, the poorly illuminated hallway sprawled out in front of him, with shadows dancing on the walls.

The icy air sliced through his garments, chilling him to the core. His increased endurance kept him safe from physical attacks, but the cold was a different beast, gnawing at him relentlessly. He pushed forward, determination fueling his every move. Finally, he reached the purge point.

Despite the cold, he knelt and placed his hand on the odd material of the floor. The surface was smooth and cold, unlike anything he had encountered before. He focused, channeling his exogene to probe the floor, seeking answers.

Omen stood up from the floor, his thoughts racing as he processed the new information. The last time he had sensed the runic aura beneath the floor, he had felt a rising heat, reminiscent of the scorching desert climate. Now, however, he felt a river chill, a biting cold that reminded him of the icy waves along the river shore during his first purge.

His theory seemed to hold water: the next purge would likely take place in an environment dominated by either a vast expanse of water or a similarly cold wasteland. While his enhanced durability protected him against extreme heat, anything below normal temperatures would affect him significantly.

Omen shivered, feeling the cold seep deeper into his bones. He needed to prepare. The thought of facing such harsh conditions without adequate protection was daunting, but he had no choice. The purges were relentless, and survival depended on adaptability.

He took a deep breath, his mind already formulating a plan. There were a few ways to mitigate the cold's impact on his body. First, he would need to find or create insulating materials to keep himself warm. Second, he needed to find ways to generate and conserve heat.

As he returned through the snow, Omen's thoughts turned to one of his companions…the feline girl.

Not long after Omen stepped into the quiet mess hall, the ambient noise of clinking utensils and hushed conversations filling the air. He wasn't surprised to see the feline girl, her cat-like features prominent, devouring a large tray of food with an almost feral intensity. The food supplies had remained constant since day one, but with their numbers halved, there was no longer a need to fight over meals. The no-killing rule in the mess hall ensured a semblance of civility, and the desperation of earlier days had given way to a tense peace.

Omen's gaze shifted to the centre of the large dining room, where an acolyte sat alone on a bench, eating a small plate of rice. Her presence, however, was anything but ordinary. No one sat near her, the other purgers clustering far away, wolfing their food with cautious, almost fearful expressions.

Omen didn't let his mind wander as he walked over to the feline girl. He moved with deliberate slowness, mindful of her skittish nature. When he sat down across from her, he kept his movements calm and non-threatening, watching as her yellow slit eyes and twitching cat-shaped nose took in his presence.