Silence.
Pure silence.
It was as if the world itself had disappeared, leaving only a void. Maxwell felt weightless, like he was floating in endless nothingness.
...
...
Suddenly, a blinding light hit him, accompanied by a piercing screech.
"GAH!" Maxwell jolted upright, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
His wide eyes darted around, taking in the familiar surroundings of his room. Everything was normal. The messy desk covered in snack wrappers. The pile of clothes on the chair. The sunlight streaming in through the half-closed blinds.
Yet, his skin was slick with sweat, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.
"W-what the fuck just happened..." he muttered, running a trembling hand through his damp hair.
He shifted uncomfortably in bed, then froze.
"Wait a second..." Maxwell glanced down at himself, his face turning bright red.
"Why the hell am I almost naked?!" He was left in nothing but his boxers, his school uniform discarded on the floor in a crumpled heap.
Panic surged through him as he tried to piece together what had happened. He didn't remember coming home like this.
Suddenly, he felt it. Something cold and heavy wrapped around his arm. Slowly, hesitantly, Maxwell looked down.
The bracelet.
It was still there, the strange, dark metal glinting faintly in the morning light. The intricate patterns on its surface seemed almost alive, shifting ever so slightly when he moved.
Maxwell's breath hitched. "You've gotta be kidding me..."
He grabbed at the bracelet, tugging it with all his might. It didn't budge. It was as if it had fused with his skin.
"No, no, no, no..." He yanked harder, wincing as it felt like his skin was burning the more he pulled. Giving up, he slumped back against the headboard, staring at the cursed thing in disbelief.
"What the hell is this thing? And why won't it come off?"
Images from the previous night began flashing in his mind. The monsters. The darkness. The way his body had changed...
His stomach churned.
"Was that... real?" he whispered.
But the bracelet on his arm, the soreness in his muscles, and the faint metallic taste lingering in his mouth told him it wasn't a dream.
Not even close.
"Okay, Maxwell," he muttered to himself, forcing a nervous laugh, "this is just a shitty dream. Any second now, you'll wake up and—"
"No need to pinch yourself."
Maxwell froze mid-sentence. His eyes widened in disbelief as the unfamiliar, deep voice echoed through his room.
"W-what the..." he stammered, frantically glancing around.
His gaze landed on the foot of his bed, where the white cat from last night was perched, calmly licking its paw.
"...No way..." Maxwell whispered, his voice barely audible.
The cat stopped its grooming, tilting its head to look at him.
"Did you just fucking speak?" Maxwell asked, his voice louder now, filled with equal parts confusion and panic.
The cat let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, like it was already tired of his reaction. "Yes, I spoke. Congratulations on figuring that out."
Maxwell blinked. Then blinked again.
"Okay, nope. Nope. This isn't real. Talking cats don't exist. You're just some freaky fever dream from all those monster noodles Jai made me eat," he said, pointing at the cat like it had personally offended him.
The cat raised a paw, inspecting it casually. "I'm as real as that bracelet stuck on your arm, kid. And by the way, you're welcome."
"Welcome?! For what?!" Maxwell shot back, his voice cracking slightly.
"For saving your sorry ass last night," the cat replied, leaping gracefully onto his bedside table. It sat down and fixed him with an unblinking stare, its golden eyes gleaming. "If I hadn't given you that bracelet, you'd be monster chow by now."
Maxwell gawked at the cat, his brain struggling to process everything. "Wait, you gave me this thing?! What the hell is it, and why can't I take it off?!"
The cat flicked its tail lazily, clearly unimpressed by Maxwell's panic. "That bracelet is the only reason you're alive right now. It's... complicated. But trust me, you're going to need it."
Maxwell's jaw dropped. "Need it for what?! I didn't ask for this!"
The cat's gaze sharpened, its voice dropping an octave. "Too late for that, Maxwell. The monsters won't stop coming now. Not after last night."
A cold chill ran down Maxwell's spine. "W-what do you mean? What happened last night?"
The cat smirked—if cats could smirk. "Let's just say... you're not as ordinary as you think you are."
The cat stretched lazily, its tail flicking as it settled onto the bed. "Alright, kid. Buckle up. You're about to learn something your human brain might struggle to handle."
Maxwell frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm not a kid. And stop acting like you're some mystical guru."
The cat ignored him. "Ever heard of Noxterra?"
Maxwell blinked. "Nox-what-now?"
"Noxterra," the cat repeated, its golden eyes narrowing. "It's a realm hidden from your world. A second layer of reality, so well-concealed that even your so-called 'geniuses' couldn't sniff it out. It's been there since the dawn of time, living right alongside your human world."
Maxwell leaned back, his skeptical expression clear. "A hidden realm? Seriously? Sounds like something out of a fantasy novel."
The cat smirked. "And yet, you've already met some of its residents." It gestured with its paw toward the bracelet on Maxwell's arm.
Maxwell glanced at the bracelet, his unease growing. "You mean... those monsters?"
"Bingo." The cat's voice turned more serious. "Noxterra is home to creatures you humans couldn't begin to imagine. Beasts that defy logic. Monsters that would make your worst nightmares look like bedtime stories. Some are animal-like, some are... stranger. But they all share one thing in common—they're dangerous."
Maxwell gulped. "Great. So why are they here? Did someone forget to lock the door to this Nox-whatever place?"
The cat chuckled darkly. "Not exactly. Noxterra and your world aren't separate, kid. They're connected. Always have been. But the barrier between them keeps most of the monsters out of your reality. Most of the time, anyway."
Maxwell's brow furrowed. "And the bracelet? What does this have to do with me?"
The cat's gaze grew sharper. "Because that bracelet isn't just some shiny piece of jewelry. It's a prison. A prison for seven gods."
Maxwell's jaw dropped. "Excuse me? Gods?"
The cat nodded. "Seven monster gods, to be precise. Beings so powerful, they could crush entire worlds with a thought. They ruled Noxterra for eons, untouchable and unstoppable. But then, someone—or something—sealed them away. No one knows who or why. All we know is that their power was locked inside that bracelet. And now..."
Maxwell looked at the bracelet in horror. "Now it's on me."
"Exactly." The cat's tone was grim. "The bracelet binds their power. But it's also a beacon, kid. It calls to the monsters of Noxterra. They can sense it, and they want it. They'll stop at nothing to get it."
Maxwell stared at the cat, his mind racing. "So... what, I'm some kind of walking target now? Why me?"
The cat shrugged. "Why does the sky turn blue? Why do humans do stupid things? Some questions don't have answers. All I know is, that bracelet chose you. And like it or not, you're stuck with it."
Maxwell's head dropped into his hands. "This has got to be some messed-up dream..."
The cat hopped closer, its voice softening slightly. "Listen, kid. You've got two choices. You can sit here and hope this nightmare goes away—which it won't. Or, you can face it. Learn to use the power inside that bracelet before the monsters rip you apart. Your call."
Maxwell glanced at the bracelet again, the dark metal glinting ominously. His gut twisted, but deep down, he knew there was no turning back.
Maxwell rubbed his temples, his voice tinged with frustration. "Wait... I don't understand. How did you even find me? How the hell did this thing end up with you? And why me? And—oh, yeah—who the fuck are you?!" He threw up his hands. "I'm so confused right now."
The cat sat up straight, its white fur almost glowing in the morning light. "You're asking a lot of questions for someone who barely survived the night."
"Yeah, because I'd like to stay alive!" Maxwell shot back.
The cat let out a low chuckle. "Fair enough. The name's Mukuro. I'm what you'd call a... messenger. And no, not the 'cute kitty delivering letters' kind. I've been around long enough to know the ins and outs of Noxterra. Let's just say, when things go sideways between your world and ours, I'm the guy who steps in."
Maxwell narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't explain how you got this bracelet—or why you gave it to me."
Mukuro's expression grew serious. "The bracelet wasn't mine to begin with. It was locked away in Noxterra, hidden from both humans and monsters for centuries. But recently, something—or someone—stirred the pot. The seal on the bracelet started to weaken. The gods' power was leaking, and the monsters could sense it. Chaos was about to break loose."
Maxwell gulped, his grip tightening around his bedsheet. "And you just... what? Strolled in and grabbed it?"
"Not exactly," Mukuro replied, his voice tinged with irritation. "It was hell getting to it. The monsters guarding it weren't exactly thrilled about a 'lowly cat' poking around their sacred ground. But I managed. Barely." He paused, his gaze piercing. "The real problem was deciding where to take it. I couldn't just leave it in Noxterra. Too dangerous. So, I brought it here, to your world. And that's where you come in."
Maxwell pointed at himself, incredulous. "Why me, though? I'm not some superhero! I'm just a guy trying to survive high school without flunking math!"
Mukuro tilted his head, his golden eyes glinting. "It wasn't my decision. The bracelet chose you. For what reason, I couldn't tell you. Maybe you've got something special inside you. Or maybe the gods just have a twisted sense of humor."
Maxwell groaned, flopping back against his pillow. "Great. I've gone from a nobody to a target for monsters—and it's all because of some stupid bracelet."
Mukuro hopped closer, his tone soft but firm. "You're more than a target now, Maxwell. You're a guardian. Whether you like it or not, you've been pulled into something far bigger than yourself. The gods' power is in your hands—or claws, depending on how you look at it."
Maxwell stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. "This is insane. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this..."
Mukuro nodded, his gaze steady. "No one ever does. But that doesn't change the fact that it's happening. You've got questions, and I'll do my best to answer them. But right now? You need to start preparing. Because last night was just the beginning."
Maxwell let out a long groan, rubbing his temples. "Ugh, fucking hell... Okay, hold on a second." He looked around the room, suddenly realizing something. "Wait... where are my parents?"
Mukuro lazily flicked his tail, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask your strange little device? You humans carry your lives in those things, don't you?"
Maxwell rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up with a flood of notifications, and one caught his attention. He opened the text from his mom.
Mom: Honey, me and Dad went on a business trip for the whole summer. There's money for you and food in the fridge. Don't ruin the kitchen, or else you're grounded.
Maxwell read the message aloud, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Wow... thanks, Mom. Really feeling the love." He tossed the phone back on the bed and muttered, "So much for a normal summer."
Mukuro smirked, his golden eyes gleaming. "Looks like you've got the house all to yourself. Perfect for some monster-slaying practice."
Maxwell shot him a glare. "Yeah, just what I needed. A psychotic bracelet, talking cat, and a house with no supervision. This summer is off to a great start."
Mukuro chuckled. "Oh, trust me, it's only going to get better."
Maxwell sat back against his bed, his mind racing as flashes of last night came flooding back—the horrifying monster he'd turned into, the claws, the overwhelming urge to destroy everything. He shivered and looked at Mukuro, his voice hesitant. "Say... what was I yesterday? That thing I turned into... it wasn't just some random monster, was it?"
Mukuro's playful smirk faded, replaced with a grim seriousness. He hopped onto the bed and sat upright, his tail curling around his paws. "What you became last night wasn't 'just a monster,' Maxwell. That was Inotia, the God of Berserk."
Maxwell blinked, confused. "God of... Berserk? What does that even mean?"
Mukuro let out a sigh, as if he were explaining to a child. "Inotia is one of the seven gods of Noxterra—creatures so powerful they shaped the very balance of the monster realm. But Inotia... he wasn't like the others. He thrived on chaos, rage, destruction. Pure instinct. No logic, no restraint. When you wore the bracelet, his essence fused with you."
Maxwell's stomach churned. "So... I had some rage god living inside me last night? That's... comforting."
Mukuro's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't just living inside you. It was you. That urge to tear those monsters apart, the way you moved, the raw power—you weren't in control, were you?"
Maxwell shook his head, gripping his blanket tightly. "No... I wasn't. It felt like something else had taken over. I could feel it scratching inside me, like it wanted out. Like I wanted out." He swallowed hard. "And... I kind of liked it."
Mukuro gave a slow nod. "That's the danger of Inotia's power. It doesn't just give you strength—it consumes you, drives you to unleash chaos. You'll need to learn to control it, or..."
Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "Or what?"
Mukuro's voice dropped, his tone somber. "Or it'll control you."
Maxwell stared at the floor, the weight of Mukuro's words sinking in. "Great. So I'm basically a walking time bomb."
Mukuro's tail flicked. "That's one way to look at it. But the bracelet didn't choose you to lose yourself. It chose you because it believes you can handle this. It's going to take everything you've got to stay in control, Maxwell. You're not just fighting monsters anymore—you're fighting yourself."
Maxwell let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, fantastic. No pressure or anything."
Mukuro's lips curled into a faint grin. "Don't worry. You've got me to guide you. And who knows? Maybe you'll even survive."
"Gee, thanks," Maxwell muttered. "Really inspiring."
Mukuro tilted his head, his golden eyes glinting with a touch of amusement. "Oh, by the way... you were actually supposed to die yesterday."
Maxwell's eyes widened in shock. "WHAT?!" He shot up from the bed, staring at the cat as if he'd just heard the most absurd thing.
Mukuro wasn't phased, his tail swishing lazily. "Inotia's not the kind of god who cares much for humans—or anything, really. He thrives on chaos and destruction, not sympathy. It's honestly surprising he even bothered to listen to you."
Maxwell's mind reeled, his chest tightening. "So... I was just... supposed to die? Just like that?"
Mukuro shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, yeah. You got lucky. Inotia doesn't exactly let things slide when they get in his way."
Maxwell ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of disbelief and anger. "So I'm supposed to just accept that I survived by some freak accident?"
Mukuro gave a crooked smile. "Freak accident? Nah, it's just the start. Inotia isn't some cuddly god who thinks humans are special. But you're still here, which means you're meant for something. Whether you like it or not."
Maxwell sank back onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I hate my life."
Mukuro jumped up next to him, curling up at his side. "Same... human... same," he muttered, his voice carrying a strange blend of amusement and resignation.
Maxwell shot the cat a tired look. "Yeah, well, at least you didn't almost get eaten by a god yesterday."
Mukuro flicked his tail nonchalantly. "True. But I've got my own problems." He gave a small sigh. "We all have our burdens, Maxwell. Yours just happen to involve a berserk god. Lucky you."
Maxwell groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I'm so screwed."
Mukuro gave a faint chuckle. "Welcome to the club."
Mukuro gazed at Maxwell with an unexpected softness in his eyes, his expression shifting from playful to something more thoughtful, almost nostalgic. After a long pause, he spoke quietly.
"...Maxwell... can I ask you something?"
Maxwell blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Mukuro tilted his head slightly, his voice tinged with a rare seriousness. "When you say that you hate your life... do you mean it? Do you actually want to disappear sometimes?"
Maxwell froze, the question hanging in the air like a heavy weight. For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them, a shift in the atmosphere that was almost palpable. The playful banter, the joking—it all faded into the background, leaving only that one loaded question.
Maxwell didn't know how to respond at first. He'd always thrown around those words, said them out of frustration, out of habit. But now... with the cat looking at him with such an intense, almost knowing gaze... it felt different.
"...I..." Maxwell's voice caught, and he shifted uncomfortably, not used to talking about this. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like everything's pointless. Like I'm stuck in this never-ending loop of crap. But... I don't really want to disappear. I just..." He trailed off, unsure of how to put it.
Mukuro didn't say anything right away. Instead, he simply sat there, staring at Maxwell with those deep, thoughtful eyes, offering a strange comfort without the need for words.
After a moment, he spoke again, quieter this time. "You don't have to have all the answers right now. Sometimes, it's okay to just... feel lost."
Maxwell let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Yeah... maybe."
Mukuro spaced out, his golden eyes drifting to the side as memories—fragmented and distant—flickered in his mind. His past felt like a blur, a strange, lonely existence filled with emptiness and confusion. It was as if he'd wandered for ages without a purpose, an existence that never truly made sense. The weight of those memories pressed down on him, and for a brief moment, he almost seemed distant, lost in his own thoughts.
Then, a soft touch broke him from his reverie. He felt something gentle on his head, a hand moving to caress him in a way that was both unexpected and comforting.
"But I guess I ain't the only one who's lost." Maxwell's voice was low, tinged with a quiet understanding. He wasn't looking at Mukuro but instead staring out the window, his face partially lit by the fading sunlight.
Mukuro blinked, surprised by the warmth in Maxwell's words. The hand on his head was a small gesture, but it felt... meaningful. He looked up at Maxwell, who was clearly deep in thought, yet there was an underlying sense of camaraderie between them, unspoken but clear.
Mukuro let out a quiet sigh, his usual sharp demeanor softening. "I suppose you're right," he murmured, though he wasn't sure if Maxwell fully understood the weight of those words. But, for now, it didn't matter. In that moment, they were both lost—but perhaps, just for a second, they weren't alone in it.