Days Union Oneshot Book [DISCONTINUED]

great day on the first of january in 2898: 💀

A/N: This oneshot is so old it deserves to be in a retirement home. also it's like 3500 words (i'm so normal i swear)

!!!TW for corpses, death, and body horror!!!

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No one really expected it.

We all knew it would happen eventually—no Daynian could live forever, but it was strange that we chose to shove that terrible thought into the deepest recesses of our heads. We filled that empty space with fluffy clouds of blissful ignorance until no one bothered to check in on the one who protected us all. Even with his early stages of dementia and weakening passions, no one ever came forward to tell us the severity of his decline in health. As long as he sent his orders through the Primary Transmission to the soldiers, the nation would triumph and we would praise him as our Majesty.

And even then, that could not happen forever.

It took a week before a poor soul decided to ditch the festivities of the New Year and make the trek to his residence and check on him. The soldier hoped that the Majesty would forgive her for breaking the lock to enter, but even the crack of the metal hinges and pound on the door did not awaken a single sound inside of the residence. Every candle and lantern was snuffed out within Vorbeckia's first midnight of 2898, its darkness casting the soldier into a maze of toppled furniture and jabbing counter corners with only a dim flashlight to warn her of the obstacles ahead. Eventually, she crossed the threshold of his bedroom and shined her flashlight upon the corner.

That was where the scream heard all around Vorbeckia came from.

A call from the soldier screeched through the phone and cut our small party in the Institute short, yet despite some of the employees' drunkenness, we packed our bags and loaded the ambulance with a stretcher before the sirens wailed through the night now silenced of its throbbing music and joyous shouts. We arrived at the residence to find her clutching the porch's railing and sobbing hysterically.

She managed to calm her weeping down long enough to blubber, "The Majesty..! He's..!" before bursting into another fit of tears.

Our first hint of the case was the smell of the house. At one sniff of the foul stench of decay and radiation, I instantly felt the dread of the worst outcome drop into my stomach. Our brighter flashlights showed us some of the lesser contributors to the smell: patches of mold laced with Inuine's green radiation growing on the walls and almost writhing at our light. We never messed with that shit much, and now, we had a better reason to steer far from it.

The hallways and rooms looked unmaintained and vacant, even for a house with one resident. Crumpled files and paperwork crinkled underneath our feet like autumn leaves, though only shivers of discomfort trailed up our spines as we heard more crunches. The soldier trailed behind us, but she urged us to enter the right room farthest down the hallway.

As I led the way to shine my flashlight to the end of the corridor, my coworker Jas murmured behind me, "Your hand's shaking really bad."

I could not even hide it, for my grip on the flashlight gave away my quivering hand with the trembling of the light. I steadied the shaking by stabilizing the handle with my other hand gripping my first, but now the entire quiver seized my whole body. Despite it, I continued searching to lead the troop of doctors to the end of the hallway.

Finally, we reached the doorframe of the last room in the hallway. The smell of rot now overwhelmed us until we pulled our masks over our faces to breathe in better air, even if it was the recirculation of our own carbon dioxide. My flashlight shined first into the room, its light pinning onto the wall in the center and slowly creeping around. Two other flashes followed beside my own, though all three rays avoided the left corner.