Dying Light 2: Volatile Virus

The morning sun was still rising when Aiden finally emerged from the sewer entrance. The air was crisp, the golden light spilling over the ruins of the world, casting long shadows over the abandoned buildings.

Behind him, the Daywalkers followed.

Their glowing veins pulsed faintly, golden like the light of the rising sun. Their movements were silent, calculated, almost too controlled for what they were. They weren't mindless. They were aware. Watching. Protecting.

Aiden took a slow breath and started moving.

The Daywalkers followed without hesitation.

Days on the Road

Hours turned into days.

Aiden traveled, pushing forward, his body adapting to its changes. His senses felt sharper, his stamina greater. He didn't tire as easily, and even the hunger he once felt… was different.

The Daywalkers never rested.

During the nights, Aiden would stop, setting up temporary camps, but they never slept. They stood on constant guard, scanning the area, moving in perfect silence.

More than once, he saw infected in the distance—Biters, Virals, even the occasional Howler. But the moment they sensed the Daywalkers… they backed away.

For the first time in his life, Aiden wasn't hunted at night.

He was the one they feared.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, he saw it.

Villedor.

Aiden passed through the outer ruins of the city, stepping back into familiar streets, the towering shapes of buildings looming overhead.

The first thing he noticed?

The infected watched him.

Biters, once mindless, wandering creatures, stopped in their slow, swaying movements, their hollow eyes locking onto him.

They didn't snarl. They didn't attack.

Then—after a moment—they simply turned away.

Aiden kept moving.

Behind him, the Daywalkers remained in formation, moving like silent ghosts through the streets. Their glowing bodies pulsed faintly, their golden veins flickering with the reflection of the early sun.

And then, up ahead—movement.

A group of Peacekeepers.

The Peacekeepers – Holding the Line

Aiden spotted six Peacekeepers in a formation, fending off a small horde of Biters.

They weren't struggling—but they weren't exactly dominating either.

One Peacekeeper swung a reinforced baton, slamming a Biter across the skull, sending it to the ground, but it still crawled forward, twitching, trying to bite at his leg. Another soldier held a two-handed sledgehammer, but it was slow, unwieldy, and every time he swung, the infected dodged clumsily before another lunged at him from behind. A third Peacekeeper had a crossbow, firing bolts into the heads of the infected, but he was running low on ammo. The leader, a sergeant by the markings on his armor, was holding a riot shield, slamming it into an infected to knock it back before another soldier stabbed it through the skull with a spear.

They were coordinated, experienced, but their real issue was landing clean hits.

The infected were relentless, absorbing damage, refusing to go down easily.

Aiden watched for a moment, analyzing the fight.

He had two choices.

Help them. Show them his strength—let them see what he had become firsthand.

Stand back and watch. Let them handle it themselves—see how they reacted when they saw him and the Daywalkers.

Whatever he chose… their reaction to him would change everything.

Because no one in Villedor had ever seen anything like the Daywalkers before.

And they wouldn't know if he was a savior… or a threat.

Aiden's Decision – Power Unveiled

Aiden watched the Peacekeepers struggle, their weapons landing blows but failing to end the fight quickly.

He could end this in seconds.

Without hesitation, he moved.

Faster than any of them could react, Aiden sprinted forward.

His enhanced strength, his newfound precision—it all came naturally. No hesitation, no wasted movement.

One Biter lunged at a Peacekeeper. Aiden grabbed it mid-motion, spun, and slammed it into the pavement—skull crushed instantly. Another turned toward him. He didn't even slow down—a single clawed hand shot forward, fingers piercing into its rotting throat, tearing straight through. Two more rushed him. Aiden stepped forward—one fluid motion, a low, sweeping kick, knocking them both off balance. Before they could react, his machete came down—two quick, precise strikes, decapitating them instantly. The last one? He simply grabbed it by the back of the head and crushed its skull against the nearest wall.

The fight was over in seconds.

The Peacekeepers stood frozen, staring at him.

One of them—the sergeant—took a cautious step forward, gripping his riot shield tightly.

Peacekeeper Sergeant:

"That was… fast." (His voice was firm but edged with uncertainty.)

Aiden said nothing, simply adjusting his stance, his golden-blue veins still faintly glowing beneath his sleeves.

Another Peacekeeper stepped forward, eyeing Aiden's robes, the sun mask covering his face.

Peacekeeper Soldier:

"We appreciate the help, but…" (His grip on his weapon tightened.) "Who the hell are you? We don't recognize you. And that mask—" (He motioned toward Aiden's sun mask.) "Never seen it before."

The others muttered in agreement, weapons still in hand. They weren't hostile… yet.

Aiden exhaled slowly, knowing this moment would come.

Aiden:

"I'm Aiden. I've been here before."

The sergeant frowned.

Peacekeeper Sergeant:

"Aiden? The Pilgrim?" (He narrowed his eyes, looking Aiden up and down.) "You don't look like the Aiden I remember."

Then—everything changed.

One of the Peacekeepers glanced past Aiden. His face drained of color.

Then, his breath hitched—and he shouted.

Peacekeeper Soldier:

"W-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

The entire group panicked, weapons immediately raised.

Aiden turned slightly, already knowing what they were looking at.

The Daywalkers stood behind him, still as statues, their glowing golden veins pulsing faintly. Their bodies crouched in hunting positions, claws flexing slightly, their glowing eyes locked onto the Peacekeepers.

They weren't attacking.

They were simply waiting. Watching. Protecting.

But to the Peacekeepers… they were Volatiles.

And Volatiles weren't supposed to stand still.

They weren't supposed to glow with golden light.

They weren't supposed to exist like this.

Peacekeeper Sergeant:

"Volatiles—VOLATILES!" (His voice was sharp, pure instinct kicking in.) "Weapons up! Form a line! NOW!"

The Peacekeepers scrambled, raising their weapons, forming a defensive stance.

Aiden immediately stepped forward, raising a hand.

Aiden:

"Wait. Don't—"

Peacekeeper Soldier:

"They're not attacking… why aren't they attacking?! What the hell is this?!"

Another Peacekeeper:

"Doesn't matter! They're still Volatiles—TAKE THEM DOWN!"

Aiden's muscles tensed.

This was exactly what Draemir warned him about.

They feared what they didn't understand.

And now—he had to convince them before this turned into a bloodbath.