The night covered the city like a thick blanket.People flooded the streets, their feet shuffling. Everyone wore black robes, hiding their faces under deep hoods. They moved silently and seriously. Their destination clear - The cathedral.
Zen was in the crowd. His legs moved, but not by his choice. Something pulled him forward. He fought against this invisible pull. It was useless. He could not stop. He could not even turn his head. His body refused to listen.
His breath came in quick, short gasps as he saw the cathedral ahead. Its tall spires reached into the dark, empty sky, sharp and menacing. The building felt almost alive, its dark stones covered in detailed carvings of pained faces and swirling shadows. The huge doors were wide open, letting out an unnatural light.
Zen's heart raced in his chest. Fuck Let me go But his body wouldn't listen. His mind shouted in fear as his legs kept moving, taking him through the giant archway and into the wide, open space of the cathedral.
The air inside was icy and thick, pushing down on him like a heavy blanket. Shadows danced on the tall stained-glass windows, forming strange and twisted shapes.At the center of the cathedral, all the hooded figures knelt on the floor, bowing toward a huge mural on the far wall.
Zen's body dropped to its knees, copying the others, even as his mind fought back. The cold stone pressed against his knees as his head bowed on its own. He struggled with all his strength to lift it, to see the mural, but his body wouldn't obey.
Suddenly, something changed. Zen's sight no longer felt like it belonged to him. It was as if he was inside someone else body—someone who could see what he couldn't. This other figure raised its head, and through its eyes, Zen finally saw the mural.
The mural showed a giant figure covered in shadows, its body wrapped in swirling darkness that seemed to move. A hood hid its face, leaving only a deep, empty void where its features should be. In its right hand, it held a sword that shone with a bright, blinding light, its edges glowing so brightly they cut through the surrounding darkness. In its left hand was a glowing sphere, softer than the sword, sending out faint light that barely lit the swirling chaos around the figure.
The contrast was striking and eerie—the bright light fought silently against the heavy shadows around the figure, yet the two were seemed inseparable. Around the figure, streaks of white light cut through the darkness like cracks in the fabric of reality, making the mural feel strange and unsettling.
The instant his eyes focused on the mural, a unbearable pain shot through his head, sharp and blinding, as if his mind was being ripped apart. His body trembled uncontrollably under the weight of the agony.
" Aaaaaaaaaaaah " The scream echoed in his head, but no sound escaped his lips. His body trembled uncontrollably, the pain reaching heights he didn't think possible. It was as if the figure in the mural had reached into his soul and was tearing it apart, piece by piece.
It felt like his very being was unraveling, each fragment of himself fading into nothingness. The figure's light burned into his eyes, erasing everything until only the pain was left. Then, just as the agony became unbearable, everything went dark.
Then, he woke up
Zen shot upright, gasping for air, his breath coming in quick and eneven.Sweat drenched his body, soaking the thin blanket beneath him. He ran a trembling hand over his face, trying to calm himself. The cold steel of the plate he'd been sleeping on pressed against his back.
" This again " he muttered, his voice hoarse. He leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment as his heartbeat slowly began to settle. These nightmares had been haunting him for as long as he could remember. But this one was different.
The nightmares always began the same—outside the city. The first time, he'd been standing at its gates, staring up at its towering walls. In the next, he'd been going inside the city. Each dream brought him closer to the cathedral. And tonight, for the first time, he had entered its doors.
The memory of the mural stayed in his mind, clear and unshakable. The shadowed figure, the light, the sword—it all felt so real. Too real.
"Hoo~" He exhaled, running his fingers through his damp hair. The faint sound of distant footsteps echoed, reminding him of where he was. He glanced around the small, dim room—a makeshift shelter in the heart of the slums.
"What was that ?" Zen whispered to the empty room, his voice trembling. There was no answer, only the faint hum of the city beyond his walls, and the lingering chill of a nightmare that refused to fade.
He felt restless, and the thick air of the room became unbearable. Zen swung his legs off the steel plate and stood, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He grabbed his tattered jacket and stepped outside into the morning air.
The slum was loud as always, with distant arguments, laughter, and the noise of pots and pans. The alleys smelled of wet stone, rust, and something sour he didn't want to think about. Zen shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his breath visible in the cold air.
He walked around without purpose, trying to shake the uneasy feeling. But soon, a voice broke through the noise, sharp and angry.
"There he is! Boss was right"