The streets were silent, the ruins bathed in the faint glow of twilight. My legs felt like lead as I moved forward, every step slower than the last. My mind was a blur, weighed down by exhaustion and fear. I clutched my makeshift club loosely, its rough edges digging into my palm as I wandered aimlessly through the debris-filled streets.
Then I saw a little girl, no older than ten, standing alone in the middle of the road. Her tattered dress hung limply on her small frame, and her soot-streaked face was half-hidden behind a mop of messy hair.
She didn't move, her wide eyes locked on me as I approached.
I froze, unsure of what to do. My throat tightened, and for a moment, I couldn't even find the words to speak. She was small, the weight of my own inadequacy hit me like a wave. How could I protect her when I could barely protect myself?
But then she took a step closer. Her small, trembling hand reached out and clutched the hem of my suit.
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with fear, desperation, and something else—hope.
I stared at her for a moment, the silence stretching between us. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt my lips part to say something, anything. But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, I tightened my grip on my club, forced myself to take a steadying breath, and said the only thing that came to mind.
"Let's go."
Her grip on my suit tightened, and together, we moved into the shadows of the ruined storefront.
My legs heavy and trembling with exhaustion. Night was creeping in, and the air had grown colder, biting at my skin through the thin jumpsuit. The little girl clung to my side, her small hand gripping the fabric of my suit tightly as if letting go would send her into oblivion.
The streets were eerily quiet now, but every sound—a distant clatter of rubble, the faint murmur of hurried voices—set my nerves on edge. Everyone was rushing toward the center, desperate to finish the mission, desperate to survive.
Then a tall, broad-shouldered man stood up in front of me, emerged from the dark corner, his expression hard and unyielding. His jumpsuit was smeared with dirt and blood—whether his or someone else's, I didn't know. He stopped in the middle of the road, his gaze locking onto the girl at my side.
"Hand her over," he said, his voice low and rough.
I froze, gripping the girl's hand tighter. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized I couldn't win against him. His presence alone enough to drain any hope I might have had of standing my ground.
But I couldn't give her up.
"I can't do that," I said, my voice shaking. I tried to steady my breathing, to steel myself, but I knew he could see the fear in my eyes.
He took a step closer, his fists clenched. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
I shifted in front of the girl, my body acting on instinct. "Just… leave us alone," I said, but the words sounded weak even to my own ears.
Without warning, he lunged.
His hand shot out, grabbing me by the neck with terrifying strength. My feet left the ground as he lifted me like I weighed nothing, his grip tightening until I couldn't breathe.
He threw me.
The world spun as my body slammed into a pile of rubble, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. I gasped, clawing at the ground as I tried to push myself up.
But then the ruins beneath me seemed to shift, an unnatural chill radiating from the ground. I froze, my breath hitching as an oppressive presence washed over me. The darkness around the rubble moved like smoke, tendrils of blackness curling and stretching toward me. My chest tightened, panic clawing at my mind as the tendrils touched my skin. They were cold—freezing, biting cold—but they also pulsed, almost as if they were alive.
The shadows wrapped around me, slithering like snakes, binding me in their icy grip as the darkness closed in, consuming me completely.
In the suffocating void, my senses twisted. The air felt thick, heavy, like it was pressing against every part of my body. Pain bloomed in sharp, stabbing bursts—my bones felt like they were shattering, my muscles tearing apart and reforming all at once. I screamed, the sound raw and guttural, but the darkness swallowed even that.
The last thing I heard was the man's voice.
He was screaming too.
His cry was sharp and agonized, cutting through the blackness like a knife before fading into nothingness.
Everything went black.
--
"Shadow."
The word echoed softly, pulling me from the depths of unconsciousness.
I opened my eyes, my head pounding like it had been split open. Every inch of my body ached, and the cold, hard ground beneath me felt unforgiving.
The little girl sat beside me, her small frame hunched over. Morning light filtered through the ruins, illuminating her soot-streaked face.
"What happened?" I croaked, my throat dry and raw.
She didn't answer, not fully. Her lips moved, repeating the same word, over and over. "Shadow… shadow..."
It was the first time I'd heard her speak, but her voice sent a shiver down my spine.
I forced myself to sit up, wincing at the sharp pain radiating from my ribs. My gaze fell on the man's body a few feet away, sprawled awkwardly in the rubble. His skin was an eerie shade of blue, like frostbite had crept over him in the night.
The memory came rushing back—his hand crushing my neck, the ruin swallowing me in darkness, the chilling agony that coursed through me. I shuddered, the pain from last night still fresh in my mind. I didn't understand what had happened, but the sight of his lifeless body made me want to forget.
"Nevermind," I mumbled, shaking my head.
The girl's muttering continued, her blank eyes fixed on nothing. Her small voice was like a haunting melody in the silence.
What's with this girl?
I paused as my vision suddenly blurred. Lines of light stretched across the air in front of me, forming jagged, shifting patterns. Then, words appeared, glowing faintly in the dim ruins. The voice in my earphones spoke softly, mechanical and detached.
[Hyperstitial Transmission: Dimensional Collapse Imminent. Recursive Reality Prototypes Active.]
My head pounded as more lines burned themselves into my mind:
[Causal Loops Splinter Timeline Integrity. Fusion Requires Catalyst.]
"What… is this?" I clutching my head. The little girl stared at me blankly, unflinching as if she couldn't see the shimmering words in the air.
The voice continued:
[Self-Fulfilling Entities: Prophecies Confirmed. Altiris Labs: Observation in Progress.]
The world felt heavy, as if reality itself was pressing down on me. My head throbbed, and I blinked hard, trying to shake off the fog clouding my mind.
A screen materialized in front of me, glowing faintly in the dim light. It hovered mid-air, semi-transparent and shifting slightly, like a mirage.
I stared, unblinking. "What the…?"
MISSION: ESCORT A CITIZEN TO CENTRAL ZONE
TIME REMAINING: 23:56:17
I stared at the remaining time, my breath catching in disbelief. The third day? Had I been unconscious for two nights? How did I survive all that time while completely unaware?
There were other options displayed along the edges of the screen:
[PROFILE] [MAP]
My gaze zeroed in on the word [MAP]. Was it real? Was there actually a map? My fingers moved on instinct, reaching for the glowing text. The screen rippled under my touch, like water disturbed by a pebble, but nothing happened.
I hesitated, then decided to try something absurd. "Open map," I said aloud. My voice sounded strange in the silence, ridiculous even.
To my surprise, the screen shifted, expanding instantly to reveal a bird's-eye view of the entire city. My breath caught in my throat.
The map was detailed—streets, alleys, buildings, all of it outlined in faint blue. A small blinking dot marked my current position, and another, larger marker pulsed in the distance, labeled Central Zone.
"It's real," I whispered, my heart pounding. The central zone was nearly five blocks away. That was manageable.
"I can do it," I said, my voice more determined than I felt. Somehow, seeing the path laid out in front of me made the mission feel possible, even if the danger wasn't gone.
The map faded back into the main menu, leaving me staring at the remaining option: [PROFILE].
"Open profile," I said, the words leaving my lips before I could second-guess myself.
The screen shifted again, and what appeared made my chest tighten.
It was me.
My face stared back at me, captured in real time like a live video feed. The holographic image moved with me, mirroring my every tilt, turn, and blink. The detail was unnerving—every strand of my hair, every smudge of dirt on my cheek was captured perfectly.
Beneath my image, lines of information appeared:
NAME: KIRA
AGE: 24
ARCHETYPE: XXX
SKILLS: No skills acquired yet
I froze, my mind racing. Archetype? What did that mean? Was that supposed to be my… role? This role playing almost over but there is no archetype and skills assigned yet.
My heart thudded harder as the implications sank in. Whoever—or whatever—was running this… they see everything. Suddenly I felt like everything being tracked, recorded, and analyzed.
I took a step back, my breathing shallow. The little girl tugged at my jumpsuit, her silent presence grounding me for a moment.
I forced myself to focus. "It's fine. I can figure this out."
The screen blinked out of existence, leaving me with the weight of my mission and the unsettling knowledge of just how closely I was being watched.