The sound of ragged breathing echoed through the deserted alleys of District 8 as a young boy dashed through the shadows. Each gasp seared his lungs, but he refused to stop. Heavy footsteps pounded behind him, growing closer with every heartbeat.
'Come on… left at the dumpster, right at the broken streetlight, then straight through the gap between the buildings,' he reminded himself, his heart racing. He had memorized every twist and turn of District 8—survival depended on it.
But no amount of planning could overcome his body's limits. He was nearing exhaustion.
He risked a quick glance backward to gauge how close his pursuers were. That moment of distraction proved disastrous. His foot snagged on a piece of rubble, and he pitched forward, slamming onto the pavement. He scrambled desperately to stand, but it was too late.
BAM!
A vicious kick to his stomach forced the air from his lungs. Another blow followed, a punch that sent pain bursting across his ribs. The beating escalated from there.
"So? What were you doing snooping around our turf, kid?"
The leader of the group crouched next to Aziel's bruised body, his gaze cold. He was a tall, powerfully built man with a shaved head and a long scar running down the right side of his face—one of many that marked him as a gang member.
Aziel said nothing, defiantly turning his face away, looking as if he'd sooner die than answer.
Seeing the boy's stubborn silence, the man changed tactics. He grabbed a fistful of Aziel's hair, jerking his head upward, and pressed the muzzle of a pistol against his forehead.
"I really don't like repeating myself. Don't make me ask again."
A bead of sweat slid down Aziel's temple as he swallowed hard, eyeing the gun.
"…Food," he murmured, his voice unsteady. "I was just looking for food."
The man studied him for a moment. Finally, with a snort of disgust, he released Aziel, leaving him to slump back onto the ground.
"So, another street rat, huh? Not worth wasting a bullet on." He waved his pistol at Aziel. "Get lost. And if I catch you on our turf again, I'll put one right through your head."
Aziel managed the slightest nod but showed no hint of fear. Satisfied, the gang members turned and ambled off, their footsteps fading into the distance.
Once they were gone, Aziel stuck out his tongue at their retreating figures and flipped them off. As soon as he was sure they'd disappeared, a low, amused laugh escaped him.
"'I really don't like repeating myself…'" he muttered, mimicking the leader's scowl. Still smirking, he reached into a hidden pocket stitched into his ragged jacket and withdrew several small, wrapped packages. "Idiots. They don't even know how to search someone properly."
He checked his bounty—still intact—then braced himself on unsteady legs. Every part of his body throbbed in protest, but it was a familiar ache.
Once upright, he lifted his eyes to the star-filled sky. They were drawn to the colossal purple scar that divided the sky—the Labyrinth Rift.
Aziel could barely recall the day it appeared—he was only two at the time—but he remembered the stories his parents told him about the world before everything changed. Those recollections had blurred with time, slipping away like faint echoes in a dream.
He shook his head, banishing the memories. No point in longing for what he couldn't get back.
His parents weren't around to tell tales anymore.
"What a pain…" Aziel mumbled, limping along the trash-strewn streets of District 8.
Somewhere in the distance, a scream cut through the night—a reminder of how normal chaos was here on the outer rim.
Stopping beside a broken storefront, Aziel caught his breath and glowered at the brilliant towers of the inner districts. Their lights shone so brightly that they stung his eyes. The power coursing through that part of the city could keep District 8 running for weeks—yet they used it without a second thought.
A group of hunters roared past in a vehicle, too quickly for Aziel to get a good look at their faces. It was clear they had somewhere important to be. They likely made enough credits to live comfortably behind those walls. That was the privilege of those with power.
Here in District 8, you either stole or starved—and Aziel had no intention of starving.
"Damn it… this is gonna swell," he muttered as he caught sight of his bruised face in the shattered window of an abandoned car. "Anais is gonna flip when she sees this."
He forced himself to move faster, though every step brought a jolt of pain. He crunched through broken glass along the deserted streets, so accustomed to the decay that it barely registered.
His thoughts drifted to the gang attack. The last thing he wanted was a repeat incident. With that in mind, he took a winding detour, choosing to be late rather than walk right into more trouble.
For a while, it seemed like the safer choice. The roads were eerily quiet, almost peaceful by District 8 standards. Aziel even considered using this new path permanently—until he turned a corner and froze.
Fifty paces ahead, a Labyrinth Beast blocked the street. Its gray, corded muscles twitched with barely contained aggression as it moved on all fours, a single crimson eye rolling in its skull. An arrow protruded from its shoulder, a sign that someone had tried and failed to kill it.
Aziel's hands quivered. He knew exactly what these monsters could do.
To bring one down, you needed awakened hunters or heavy artillery—both of which he obviously lacked.
'A Labyrinth Beast, now of all times?'
He began to back away as quietly as possible—then heard the unmistakable crunch of glass beneath his heel.
The creature's head whipped around, its lone red eye fixing on him.
In that instant, Aziel had one choice: run.
He broke into a frenzied sprint, ignoring the stabs of pain from his battered body. Behind him, the Beast gave chase, its snarling breaths growing steadily louder.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Aziel hissed through gritted teeth, darting left and then right in a desperate attempt to throw it off. The Beast, however, never lost ground.
Up ahead loomed an old apartment complex, its concrete pillars cracked and half-collapsed from years of neglect and repeated monster attacks. The whole structure looked ready to come down with the slightest nudge.
"It's all or nothing!" Aziel shouted and dove through the damaged entrance.
The Beast thundered in after him, heedless of the groaning metal. Aziel sprinted through the dark corridors, purposely guiding the creature deeper inside. Its massive paws slammed against the unstable floors, each impact resonating through the crumbling framework.
'Just a little more!'
Reaching a large room with a dangerously weakened section of floor, Aziel skidded to a stop, gasping in dusty air. The Beast prowled closer, saliva dripping from its fangs as it growled.
"You wanna know your biggest problem?" he muttered, edging farther onto the weakened floorboards. "You're all muscle, no brain… dumbass."
The Beast lunged, a blur of snarling teeth and swinging claws. Aziel flung himself aside at the last second. The monster's weight crashed down on the decaying structure.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then the entire building quivered. Metal shrieked, concrete buckled, and the Beast's roar turned from fury to panic as the floor gave out beneath it.
Aziel raced back the way he'd come, dodging debris as it plummeted in choking clouds of dust.
"Haha! Serves you right, you dumb—!"
The ground collapsed beneath his feet before he could finish his taunt. His triumphant shout morphed into a startled yell as he plunged into darkness.