Hiryur Yukimura stood in the middle of a burning wasteland.
Before him, the world crumbled, consumed by flames that roared against the backdrop of a starless sky. He watched in helpless silence as two figures clashed in the distance—one cloaked in blinding fire, the other wrapped in a swirling void of shadows. Their titanic blows sent shockwaves that tore through the landscape, causing the ground beneath Hiryur to tremble.
"Who… are they?" Hiryur muttered, though his voice was swallowed by the roar of the battle.
The fiery figure struck first, slashing through the air with a burning sword that left trails of molten light. The darkness retaliated with a surge of shadows that twisted into tendrils, deflecting the blow with unnatural ease. The air between them crackled with power, and each strike left a scar in the earth, as if reality itself was being torn apart by their sheer force.
Hiryur legs trembled, but he couldn't move. He wasn't a participant in this battle—only an observer. And yet, something about the clash felt… familiar. He clenched his fists, frustration boiling within him. Why was he here? What was he supposed to do?
Before he could find an answer, the ground beneath him split open with a deafening crack.
Hiryur fell.
Falling through the abyss, the sky above him vanished into the distance, the two warring figures reduced to nothing but faint silhouettes. The sensation of freefall took his breath away, his body tumbling endlessly through the void. His chest tightened, panic seizing him as the air turned colder and thinner. Darkness closed in around him, and just as the crushing silence was about to consume him—
He woke up.
Hiryur gasped, his eyes snapping open. His heart pounded in his chest, the remnants of the dream clinging to his mind like a thick fog. He lay in his bed, drenched in sweat, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, trying to calm the racing beat of his heart.
"That damn dream—it felt so real. Again."
It happened again.
Hiryur slowly sat up, his hands trembling as he wiped the sweat from his brow. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the digital clock on his nightstand. 3:47 AM. He let out a long, shaky breath.
"Another one…" he muttered to himself, running a hand through his damp hair. It was always the same dream—those two figures, locked in eternal combat, tearing the world apart with their power. No matter how many times he experienced it, the vividness never faded. The heat from the flames, the coldness of the shadows, the tremors beneath his feet… everything felt real.
Too real.
Hiryur swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold wooden floor. He sat there for a moment, staring at the darkened room, trying to shake off the lingering unease from the dream. His eyes drifted toward the window, where the faintest hint of dawn began to creep into the sky.
The city outside was still asleep, the streets quiet and empty. But something about the stillness felt wrong. A sense of dread hung in the air, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Hiryur shook his head, trying to dismiss the feeling. "It's just a dream," he told himself. "That's all it is."
But deep down, he wasn't so sure.
With a heavy sigh, Hiryur pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the bathroom. The cold water splashing against his face did little to ease the tension coiling inside him. He stared at his reflection in the mirror—tired eyes, tousled black hair, and a sharp jawline that made him look older than his twenty years. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights the dreams had been causing.
"No matter what I do…" he murmured, wiping his face with a towel, "I can't get away from it."
Every time he thought it might go away, the dream returned with more intensity, more detail. It felt like it was trying to tell him something, but what? And why him?
Hiryur let the towel fall to the floor and glanced toward the window again. The light outside was growing stronger now, signaling the start of another day. His classes would begin in a few hours, but the thought of sitting through lectures about economics and philosophy seemed unbearable today.
The weight of the dream still pressed heavily on his chest, and something in the pit of his stomach told him that today would be different. He couldn't explain it, but the city felt off—like a storm was brewing beneath its surface.
Shaking off the thought, Hiryur dressed quickly, throwing on a plain black hoodie and jeans. As he stepped outside into the chilly morning air, the familiar sights and sounds of the city greeted him: the hum of distant traffic, the soft rustling of leaves, and the quiet chatter of early risers making their way to work. But even amidst the normalcy, that uneasy feeling lingered.
He couldn't shake the sensation that something—or someone—was watching him.
Hiryur walked through the quiet streets, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. The chill in the air helped wake him up, but the strange tension from earlier remained. He glanced around, his eyes sweeping over the rows of buildings and the few people passing by, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Yet, he still couldn't shake the feeling.
His apartment wasn't far from the university campus, but today he didn't feel like going straight there. Instead, he wandered aimlessly, letting his feet guide him. The city around him began to stir to life, with more people appearing on the streets—businessmen hurrying to work, students rushing to catch trains, the usual morning rush. But despite the growing crowds, Kaito felt isolated, as if he were walking in a different world entirely.
As he passed by a park, a strange sound caught his attention. A low hum—barely audible but unmistakable. Hiryur froze, his ears straining to locate the source of the noise. It was faint, but it was there… somewhere nearby.
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the park. The sound grew louder, sharper, and then—
A blinding flash of light.
Hiryur stumbled back, his hand instinctively going up to shield his eyes. When the light faded, his heart skipped a beat. Standing in the middle of the park was a figure—a man dressed in dark robes, his face obscured by a hood. The air around him crackled with energy, the same kind of power Hiryur had felt in his dreams.
The man turned his head, and though his face was hidden, Hiryur could feel his gaze lock onto him. A wave of cold fear washed over him, his instincts screaming at him to run. But his legs wouldn't move.
The robed figure raised his hand, and in that moment, Hiryur knew—this was no ordinary encounter.
The figure's hand extended toward Hiryur, fingers splayed as arcs of energy crackled in the air.
Hiryur breath caught in his throat. He took a step back, instinct kicking in as his mind raced. What is this? He clenched his fists, willing his body to move, to run, but he remained frozen, trapped under the weight of the figure's invisible power.
"You…" The voice from the figure was low, almost a growl, reverberating unnaturally in the air. "You're the one."
Before he could react, a deafening noise cracking above halted Hiryur's breathing. It was the unmistakable sound of reality itself fracturing, as the sky split open. And in seconds, they were gone. Both of them.