Chapter 2: The Ruins of Shigatsu
Ryan stood at the edge of what was once the busiest intersection in Shigatsu, staring at the ruins that had swallowed his city. The wind blew dust and ash across the shattered streets, twisting the skyline into a jagged silhouette of destruction. Towers that once gleamed in the sunlight were now crumbling husks, their windows shattered, metal frameworks exposed like broken bones.
The city was a warzone. It had been ever since the Choujin—the superhumans—had come into power. But this last attack had been different. Worse. The destruction was more than random violence—it was surgical, precise. Whoever was responsible had torn through the heart of Shigatsu, leaving behind a maze of collapsed buildings and twisted wreckage.
Ryan adjusted his backpack, his face grim as he surveyed the chaos. He had lived in Shigatsu his whole life, and though the city had always been on edge, there was a kind of rhythm to the danger. Choujin incidents were just a part of life, and somehow, people managed to rebuild, to move forward.
But now? Now it felt like the city had finally lost.
He stepped over the cracked sidewalk, avoiding a deep fissure in the road where the ground had split apart during the attack. Vehicles lay abandoned, some crushed under the weight of fallen debris, others overturned like discarded toys. The air was heavy with the smell of smoke and burning metal, and Ryan's sharp eyes caught glimpses of fire still smoldering deep within the ruins.
"Shigatsu used to be alive," Ryan muttered to himself. "Now it's just... broken."
He couldn't help but think back to when the city had been vibrant, full of noise and movement. The streets were always crowded, filled with people going about their lives, pretending they weren't living under the constant threat of Choujin. But those days were long gone. Now, Shigatsu was more like a ghost town, a hollow shell of what it used to be.
Ryan's mind drifted to Pod, his childhood friend. Pod had always been quieter, more withdrawn than the rest of them, but Ryan had seen the change in him over the past few days. He didn't know what Pod had gotten himself into, but he could feel something was different. More dangerous.
Not that Ryan could blame him. The city had broken them all in one way or another. With the churches controlling everything and Choujin fighting battles most people couldn't even understand, it was hard not to feel like you were drowning in someone else's war. The Midnight Sun and the Red Cry were the most powerful factions, constantly at each other's throats, with their followers spreading chaos wherever they went.
Ryan kicked a piece of rubble out of his path, his thoughts darkening as he remembered the rumors. They said the attack had been the work of the Red Cry—Ted's people. Morgan, the leader of the Midnight Sun, had sent out his Choujin to fight back, but the damage had already been done. Entire blocks had been leveled in the fighting, and the bodies of innocent people were still buried beneath the debris.
It was the same every time. The churches fought, and the rest of the city suffered.
Ryan reached a point where the destruction was so severe he had to stop. What had once been a towering apartment complex was now a mountain of twisted metal and concrete. The thought of how many people had lived there, how many lives had been lost in a single moment of Choujin power, sent a shiver down his spine.
He had seen enough. The damage wasn't just physical; it was emotional. The people of Shigatsu were broken too. Everyone Ryan passed seemed to carry the weight of the city's destruction in their eyes—empty, haunted, and tired. Families huddled in what was left of their homes, trying to salvage what little they had left, while others wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go or what to do next.
Ryan crouched near a pile of rubble, picking up a piece of scorched metal. It was part of a sign from a café he used to visit with Pod and Mika. It was strange how something as small as a piece of metal could carry so much meaning, how it could remind him of better days when life wasn't defined by survival and fear.
The weight of it all pressed down on Ryan, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe. This wasn't the Shigatsu he had known. This wasn't the life they had dreamed of.
The churches, with all their power and influence, were supposed to protect the city, to guide it. But they had only brought more destruction. Midnight Sun, Red Cry—it didn't matter. They were all the same. They were all fighting for control, for dominance, and in the process, they were tearing the world apart.
Ryan stood up, tossing the piece of metal aside. "Pod," he muttered under his breath. "Where the hell are you?"
He knew Pod had been acting strange lately, more distant than usual. There were rumors that he had been seen near the aftermath of the attack, wandering the city like he was searching for something—or someone. Ryan didn't want to believe his friend had gotten mixed up in something dangerous, but in a city like Shigatsu, it was hard to avoid the darkness for long.
As Ryan looked out over the ruins of the city, a part of him felt the same helplessness he had always felt. But there was something else too, something gnawing at him—the realization that maybe they couldn't keep running from the chaos forever. Maybe, sooner or later, they would all have to make a choice.
And in a place like Shigatsu, choices came with consequences.
With one last glance at the destruction, Ryan turned away, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He didn't know what was coming, but he could feel the tension building, like the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next wave of devastation.
Whatever happened next, Ryan knew one thing for sure: nothing in Shigatsu would ever be the same again.