Professor Si from MIT

Colonel Robert Neville stepped on the brake. It was nearing noon; the air was crisp and the light was clear. He followed a very strict routine, heading to the South Street Seaport in New York every single day at midday.

He had to be disciplined, for only a structured life could keep him from going insane in his solitude. The KV Virus had broken out three years ago, destroying all of New York in a very short time. By the time he stopped receiving human signals from the outside on any frequency, less than a month had passed.

He had become the only living person in this city. Before his last helper turned into a Night Demon, he had managed to piece together a way to survive this catastrophe. Since then, he had remained in New York, using his own blood—as he was innately immune—to conduct experiment after experiment, attempting to synthesize a cure for the KV Virus infection.

After experiencing thousands of failures, he finally saw the dawn of success today: the special serum ratio he named Compound Six had shown significant efficacy in animal testing. Aggression decreased, heterologous tissues receded, and blood pressure and body temperature trended toward normal values. By all appearances, it looked like a cure for the KV Virus.

Human trials were now imminent. He knew it was necessary to capture a live Night Demon as a test subject. But before that, his regular daily life could not be disrupted.

"Sam, how about we have fish for lunch today?"

Sam was a German Shepherd, exactly three years old. Born on the eve of the KV Virus outbreak, she had accompanied Robert through these three difficult years.

She let out a light, low growl and wagged her tail, clearly very interested in the proposal.

"Alright, let's see what kind of fish we can catch next."

Robert also wore a pleasant expression. He took his fishing gear from the car and soon arrived at a suitable spot. Humans had been gone for three years, and the Night Demons had little interest in the water. The fish in the ocean had long since bred in massive numbers. It was no exaggeration to say that anywhere with water was now a fisherman's paradise.

"Oh, one more thing to do."

He baited the hook and adjusted the rod. Before casting, he placed the radio he carried in his car next to his fishing spot. As the hook hit the water, the pre-recorded audio began to echo through the operation of the radio.

[My name is Robert Neville, I am a survivor living in New York City...]

The float bobbed on the water's surface as the Colonel fell into thought. He never went out at night, so he actually didn't know where the large Night Demon strongholds were located nearby.

[I am broadcasting on every frequency. Every day at noon, when the sun is brightest, I will be at the South Street Seaport...]

Night Demons were pack animals. Sometimes, while exploring detached houses during the day, he would hear sounds from the basement. But when he returned the next day, they would be gone. Unless he found their main lair, it was very difficult to capture a live Night Demon under normal circumstances.

[If anyone can hear me... if anyone can hear me. I can provide food, I can provide shelter...]

He knew where the Night Demons' lair was: underground, in the New York City subway system. But he dared not approach that place, as he had no idea how many Night Demons were hiding within the subway loops of New York.

Five hundred thousand? One million? Maybe even two million? He wasn't sure, but he knew that when the KV Virus broke out, New York had a total population of eight million.

[I can also protect your safety... If anyone receives this message, please respond...]

The float moved, then suddenly sank. A fish had taken the bait. Sam barked excitedly, and he immediately grabbed the fishing rod.

[...You are not alone.]

"That's a big one! Buddy! We're having fish for lunch—"

[This is Professor Si. Robert Neville, I have heard your broadcast.]

The Colonel's movements at that moment were identical to Sam's, who had been hit in the head by a sudden meat bone. He froze in shock, and the next second, he dropped the fishing rod without hesitation.

He scrambled toward the radio, almost falling over.

"I am Colonel Robert Neville! I am at the South Street Seaport right now! My God, my God, can you reply to me again? Where are you now! Be careful, do not go near subway entrances or places with deep shadows—did you drive here?"

He roared out a long string of words in one breath. While waiting for a response, every second felt longer than a year. His hands and feet went cold, and his heart pounded violently. He was terrified that this was just a hallucination.

One second, two seconds.

[I hear you, Colonel. My assistant and I are driving toward the port area. We are currently moving along the main road. It shouldn't take long.]

He punched the air hard. He didn't even notice the wild deer that had suddenly appeared under the overpass nearby—the one he had failed to hunt yesterday. The little dog beside him let out a confused whimper, and he reached out to pat Sam's head, then immediately reacted as if he had thought of something.

"Don't take the Manhattan Bridge! It was blown up. Take the Brooklyn Bridge; that's the only one still passable."

When the KV Virus broke out, the Air Force had blown up the Manhattan Bridge. He had been there at the time and witnessed the chaos of the crowd and the death of his wife and child.

[I see it.]

He saw... what?

In the distance, the roar of a vehicle suddenly arrived. Large flocks of uninfected birds were startled into flight. The commotion moved closer and closer to where Colonel Robert was. It didn't seem like a car, but some grand, imposing behemoth. The Colonel couldn't help but swallow hard and straighten his back.

"Buddy, keep it together, don't lose your cool."

He tugged at his jacket and whispered to Sam, who was staying obediently by his side. Having not seen a living person for so long, he felt as if he had forgotten how to communicate with others. He had rehearsed his opening line and self-introduction dozens of times in his mind, only to discard them all.

He soon saw the vehicle.

It wasn't a car, but a motorcycle. It looked like some model of Harley. The driver was dressed exceptionally heavily; the full-coverage "motorcycle suit" looked almost like alien armor, though this might just be the Professor's personal preference. Behind the bike, a young girl with long black hair held onto the rear guardrail cautiously, not daring to lean against the driver at all.

How on earth did they drive such an unprotected vehicle to New York?

He thought—but he quickly forgot this trivial question. The motorcycle stopped, and the passengers stepped off one after the other.

"Welcome, very welcome! I am Robert Neville. My God, I've actually seen a living person again!"

He stepped forward and grabbed the stranger's hand, shaking it vigorously. The stranger's full-coverage helmet seemed to trigger a switch, opening automatically to reveal a young face inside.

Black hair, black eyes, an Eastern face. The brow looked quite clear, yet it lacked the naivety of his age, filled instead with the weariness of time. There was no doubt that he must have experienced countless critical situations along the way. The girl behind him, however, looked as delicate as a baby just crawled out of a sterile room.

"The world is vast." Professor Si smiled and nodded at him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Colonel Robert. This beside me is Shizuka Ishikawa, a survivor I found not long ago, and my current assistant. Shizuka, greet the Colonel."

"It is... it is a great honor to meet you! Colonel Robert. I am Shizuka Ishikawa, Professor Si's assistant."

The fair-skinned girl bowed to him, looking quite shaken. This actually fit Colonel Robert's stereotype of Japanese people. He just hadn't expected that even after three years, they could still be so authentic.

He responded politely, then immediately turned his attention back to Professor Si. He noticed that there was no luggage on the motorcycle behind them, and they carried very few weapons.

In the distance, there was no sound of any new vehicles approaching.

"Are others coming?" The Colonel hadn't even seen Professor Si's radio. "My home is quite large; it could easily accommodate ten people. There are plenty of supplies and provisions, and the power supply is guaranteed."

However, Professor Si merely smiled and offered no reply.

Had he said something wrong? Or had everyone else who came with them already...

"Ahem." The Colonel coughed, striving to shift the topic. The young Eastern man before him indeed possessed an air of scholarly refinement beneath his weathered exterior. Yet, at his age, his academic achievements couldn't possibly be very high...

"Ah... I haven't asked yet, which university did you attend? I happen to have some research here that might just require your great assistance."

He received a very prompt reply.

"Miskatonic University." Professor Si nodded with a smile. "I hold a doctoral degree from there."

"Miskatonic University, I kno..." The corners of Colonel Robert's mouth twitched slightly. He wasn't some hermit living under a rock; of course he knew what the Dunwich Horror was, and what Cthulhu was. And this fictional university from the Cthulhu mythos was naturally within his knowledge.

"...That's quite nice, yes, very nice." He offered an awkward, polite smile, his gaze toward Professor Si now identical to how he would look at a mental patient. Yet, as he recalled his own mental state, a surge of empathy welled up in his heart. Who would ever want to live in such a desperate world? Sometimes, he too fantasized about being a superhero.

"That university, I recall they have quite a deep study of the Necronomicon. Ah... I also hope that one day, I might be able to achieve the resurrection of the dead." He was referring to the passage from the first time that university appeared in the Cthulhu mythos texts, which spoke of a forbidden book called the Necronomicon.

"Resurrection in the absolute sense is extremely difficult; it is far beyond the scope of what I can reach. Perhaps it will be a very long time before I can touch upon true resurrection arts."

So that was it; did this Professor Si also have someone he wished to resurrect? No wonder he had ended up like this.

The Colonel sighed silently, his mind drifting back to the scene where his wife and daughter had crashed along with their helicopter. A long-forgotten sorrow welled up in his heart, but he knew he had to be strong; he still had to comfort this new friend who was clearly not in his right mind...

"But if it is merely simple necromancy, that is something I have already mastered."

The Colonel's thoughts were still spinning.

He watched with his own eyes as a pitch-black portal unfolded beside Professor Si, and a skeletal soldier, its eye sockets burning with dim, ghostly flames, stepped out from within.