This time I was in a white-dark room, where silence pressed against my ears like water.
A gate stood ahead, glowing so bright it burned my eyes, spilling white light over my face.
I tried to stand, to walk through, but chains coiled around my wrists and ankles, rattling with every breath.
"Kael…"
My mother stood at the gate, hand outstretched, her figure blurred by the radiance. I reached back, but the iron held me fast. Every time I pulled, the chains dug deeper into my skin. She seemed to drift farther and farther away—her face fading into the light.
"Wait!" My throat tore.
A spark flared, sharp and final. The light collapsed into blackness.
"Mom!"
I woke with my hand clawing at the ceiling, sweat soaking my chest. My lungs ached as if I had run for miles. The dream still clung to me, heavy and real.
I remembered a priest's voice… his words about choice. Then darkness.
The room around me was stone and shadow, like an ancient prison carved out of time itself. Damp walls. Chains that rattled even though no one touched them. And yet—no door.
Beside me, my wallet lay neatly on the ground, a folded slip of paper tucked beneath it. I snatched it up. Only one word was scrawled there: sorry.
My jaw clenched. For a prison, it was too open. Too quiet. My instincts screamed at me to run. I called my katana into my grip, its dark edge humming faintly, and sprinted through the hallway. My footsteps echoed like drums of war.
At the end of the corridor, voices waited.
I burst into the chamber—
The priest stood there, hands folded, eyes burning like coals in a dying fire.
Blaze lounged beside him, a smile tugging at his mouth.
And Tana—her gaze met mine for a heartbeat before slipping away, as if I were something filthy, unworthy.
They all stared at me the way royalty stares at the homeless.
And Blaze smiled.
It's not very nice of you to collapse in front of a lady, you know." Blaze leaned back, one eye on me, the other on Tana.
Tana stared at me like I'd crawled out of the grave. Was I really that hideous?
"Huh! Don't tell me you fell for this kid, sis."
Her hand cracked across Blaze's face before I even processed it. "Don't go saying things like that!"
Her cheeks went red. She lowered her head so hard into the table it made a dull thud. "Ouch…" She rubbed her forehead, then whispered, "It's just… you remind me of someone. No, two someones. One had your face, the other—your eyes." She drifted off again, gaze pinning me like I was a ghost.
Wait. Sis? Blaze just called the thief his sister? My glare cut to him.
He sighed. "Not by blood, it a common term in Churches. We just grew up together here, with the old man. Never thought she'd turn into a thief."
Tana snapped out of her trance, bitterness seeping into her voice. "Since you left to play hero, things have been… tough. As glamorous as they make this world look, there are corners they hide. Corners where people like us survive. People the System rejected. People who became… aftermath of the war."
"Why don't you ask for help? From us, from anyone—"
Her back turned before I finished. The fabric of her dress slid down her shoulder, revealing a brand seared deep into her skin. My throat tightened. It was a symbol of a serpent the ream had words I couldn't read, it reminded me of my seal.
"Looking at your eyes i believe You know the world isn't sunshine and rainbows," she said, voice trembling. "Not when you're marked. As long as we have this…" Her words broke. She covered her face, shoulders shaking. Blaze wrapped her in his arms.
I couldn't move.
Then I noticed her. A girl my age peered through the doorframe. Eyes wide. Silent.
"Come, Rebecca," the priest said gently. "He's a friendly man."
But she fled.
Tana gave a sad smile, brittle as glass. "She's… an introvert. Or maybe she just doesn't want people to see her scars. She isolates herself from everyone—except me." Her lips quivered, but no tears fell. Like a sky swollen with clouds but refusing to rain.
My fist clenched. I couldn't understand what was happening inside me. All I knew was that when she ran, something ached in my chest.
The children here—skeletons in skin, yet smiling like the world hadn't crushed them. They made use of what they had.
They showed me what I lacked. I hadn't come to terms with my own circumstances.
I walked until the voices faded behind me. The prison or so i thought, i redefined it as a orphanage then after i saw the cross i thought it to be a church. It gave way to a cliff that overlooked nothing but darkness. I sat at the edge, staring at the sunset bleeding out its last light.
"I feel like a failure," Blaze said, stepping beside me. His shoulders sagged. "Leaving them just to play hero. I wanted… I wanted to be their hero."
The horizon burned. I didn't look at him when I asked, "Churches were said to oppose the System. The people were called unstable, believing in an all-powerful God. I thought it was fairy tale. Do you believe in this God, Blaze?"
He was quiet for a long time. Finally. "Sis used to read scripture to us at night. I believed it the way a child believes in aliens. But you're right—it's fantasy."
He turned and walked away, leaving me with the fading sun. The sky swallowed the light until not even a trace remained.
"I'm sorry I scared you with the sword. You can come out. I won't hurt you."
The bushes rustled. Rebecca's small face peeked out, then vanished. She bolted, but her foot caught and she tumbled into a gutter.
Dirty water splashed over her. She lay there, motionless, eyes shut, letting the chill wash her skin.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
She let each droplet strike her as if they were needles. She didn't care. A thought crept in: What if I died here? What if no one ever found me? My body would rot, blend into this water. Maybe I'd already been drinking the dead all my life.
Her eyes snapped open.
Someone was staring back at her from the black water. Not a guardian angel. Not salvation.
The reaper.
Her scream tore through the tunnels—
Then silence, as the monster slid closer, swallowing the sound whole.