Resonance Unbound

The silence stretched between them as Shirley crouched by the hulking corpse of the monster, his knife glinting in the dim light. The faint sound of dripping water echoed , blending with the occasional scrape of the blade against tough, leathery flesh.

Ezra stood a few feet away, watching as Shirley worked with practiced efficiency, cutting into the creature's hide to remove the valuable pieces. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, mingling with the earthy scent of the underground. Ezra wrinkled his nose but said nothing.

"Don't just stand there, kid," Shirley grunted, not looking up. "Grab a knife and make yourself useful."

Ezra blinked, shaken from his thoughts. The memory of the battle still lingered, haunting the edges of his mind. The image of the monster, the weight of its heart in his hands—it was all too fresh. He hesitated, glancing at Shirley, who continued working without pause.

"You scared of a little blood?" Shirley asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Ezra frowned, stepping closer. "I've seen plenty of blood." He crouched beside Shirley, his hands tightening around the hilt of a knife Shirley had tossed his way. "I just don't know what I'm doing."

"You learn by doing," Shirley replied, his tone clipped. "Start with the tendons. Work your way down to the muscle. Clean cuts. No wasted pieces."

Ezra nodded, setting the blade against the creature's tough skin. The first cut was hesitant, shaky, but as he worked, the motion became smoother. He focused on the task, letting the monotony of it distract him from the chaos of his thoughts.

"Meat's worthless without proper prep," Shirley continued, his hands deftly separating a thick slab of muscle. "But these tendons? The hide? Some folks down here'll pay good money for this kind of thing. You want to survive in the underground, you don't waste what you kill."

Ezra glanced at Shirley, watching the older man's hands move with practiced ease.

"You've done this before," he said, more a statement than a question.

Shirley snorted. "More times than I care to count. Monsters like this might look terrifying, but they're just walking paydays if you know what you're doing. Problem is, most folks don't live long enough to learn."

Ezra's knife slipped slightly, catching on a thick tendon.

He cursed under his breath, adjusting his grip. Shirley glanced at him but said nothing, returning to his work.

The silence between them wasn't as heavy as before, but it still lingered. Ezra felt the unspoken tension, the questions neither of them had dared to voice.

"Shirley," Ezra said after a long pause, his voice quieter now. "What happened back there… with me, I mean. What was that?"

Shirley's hands paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. "You want the honest answer?" he said, not looking up.

Ezra nodded, his stomach twisting. "Yeah."

"I don't know," Shirley admitted, his tone unusually serious. "Whatever it was, it wasn't normal. Not by a long shot."

Ezra exhaled slowly, his grip tightening on the knife. He didn't press for more. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever else Shirley might say.

The work continued in silence, the two of them carving the creature down to its bare essentials. Shirley separated the hide into manageable pieces, rolling them tightly and setting them aside.

Ezra worked on the tendons, cutting them free with careful precision under Shirley's occasional guidance.

"You'll get the hang of it," Shirley said eventually, his tone softening. "Doesn't seem like much now, but this kind of skill? It keeps you alive down here."

Ezra didn't respond immediately. He wiped a bloodied hand across his face, smearing more than he removed. The weight of everything pressed on him, but for the first time since the fight, he felt a small flicker of stability.

"Survival," Ezra murmured, almost to himself. "Guess I don't have much choice."

"No one does," Shirley said, standing and stretching his back. He resumed working on the creature, meticulously stripping the fur from the flesh.

"The head's worth a decent chunk. A trophy for some idiot or a centerpiece for some rich bastard's den." He paused, glancing at the chest cavity. "Would've been the heart, though. Always the most valuable."

Ezra grimaced, guilt stirring in his chest. "Yeah, well… that's not exactly salvageable."

Shirley gave him a sidelong glance but didn't say anything more. Instead, he hefted the rolled hide onto his shoulder. "Come on. We've got enough to make a decent sale."

"Where exactly are we taking this?" Ezra asked, breaking the silence.

"To the market," Shirley replied.

"Underground's a lot of things—dangerous, lawless, full of scum—but it's also where you'll find the best deals for monster parts. Nexus HQ doesn't have much of a reach down here. What happens in the underground, stays in the underground."

Ezra frowned. "Sounds… shady."

Shirley chuckled dryly. "It is. But it's also the only place that doesn't ask too many questions. And if you want to survive, kid, you learn to live with the shadows."