God Syndrome

New to the Apocalypse

 Treading down a hill of dirt, Kig was wincing at the pain in his side, and the pain that slightly appeared in his ankle from his long gone injury. Budster glanced over more often than Kig liked, he knew the old man was just worried about him - but he hated being pitied. Every time the old man looked over, he shook his head, glared at him, and started moving faster despite the complaints his side would give to the movement. He kept heading down the slope; at least until a rock slipped out from under him and he started sliding down the slope. He heard Budster's call behind him as he slide, jacket trailing behind him instead of acting as a sled. At least that part wasn't as bad as when he started rolling. Finally reaching the bottom, his back slammed into a tree, making him cough - almost losing his lunch and some blood along with it. Budster skillfully slid down beside him.

"You alright kid?"

"Fine." He got up, wincing at the newfound pain in his back, knowing there were probably scrapes, cuts, a few bruises, and torn bandages. "Let's keep going."

"Maybe we should wait till you heal kid."

"No, we need to do this now. Winter's getting closer, we won't survive." a part of his mind was trying to convince him of the same thing; he wondered more about the boy and where he was, was he real? He shook his head, they needed supplies. That's what mattered, not a random guy.

"If you say so kid, but tell me if you need to head back."

"I'm fine." he muttered, starting to walk once again, there were a few houses in the distance. "See Bud, there's houses, know what houses mean? Supplies. We didn't need to go too far as well."

"I see them kid. You got gloves on right? You always forget them and wonder why things are slowly getting destroyed around you." Kig rolled his eyes and lifted up his gloved hands. "Good."

"These things itch."

"Find new ones then mr. bigshot." they headed towards the small community, watching their men tread ahead to make sure it was clear and get supplies - it was unnecessary of a 'god' to collect their own supplies unless they insist.

"If they don't beat me to it." he went to open a door, finding it locked he picked a rock up, throwing it through the window and climbing through. The house was surprisingly clean, neat, and unransacked. Confused, he started walking around, a handwritten note attached to a fridge:

Aiden,

I'm going into the city to find supplies,I'll be back soon. Remember the rules, don't let anyone in, if you hear someone, hide, don't confront them, they'll take what they want and leave.

Love, your father.

A shiver ran down his back. Someone was still in the house, it made him curious if the titan he killed was his father. He continued to walk around, finding a locked door, he took his glove on. He focused his gaze on the doorknob as he held on, it disintegrated and he heard the other side fall, he didn't hear it stop as the noise faded; opening the door, he found why. There were stairs leading down into the dark. Starting down the stairs, they rounded and he got his gun, clicking it and swung around.

His gun aimed against a boy, just barely shorter than him, brown hair barely hanging into his ocean blue eyes, and freckles covered his face. They both visibly tensed, staring at each other wide-eyed and not knowing how to wake up. For one, someone broke in and has a gun trained on him; for the other, the boy from his dreams was standing before him.

"The hell are you." Kig grumbled, keeping his gun raised despite his feeling to lower it to the familiar face, but he knew that the boy didn't recognize him back. "You Aiden from the note?" he slightly moved his head towards the stairs, as if to suggest the note was hidden away up there. The boy remained quiet but slightly nodded, intimidated by the metallic finger pointing at him - he was staring down it's blackened barrel, as if it was ready to fire something painful. "Come with me then," Kig quickly thought up an excuse to his off-topic demand to his quivering hostage. "It's safer. You're dad's dead." it was part lie, but part truth and it weighed him down.