The city pulsed like a sick heart.
Engines coughed in the distance, children screamed in alleys bathed in dirty light, and somewhere, a noodle vendor shouted at a customer too slow to produce his coins. Rays moved in small steps, his white cane tapping the asphalt like a nervous insect. Rex, his dog, guided him cautiously, each step placed with the care of a tightrope walker.
Then... he stopped.
Abruptly.
Like a statue placed in the wrong spot.
His fingers tightened on the handle. His head tilted, imperceptibly. He no longer breathed. As if the world had just slipped beneath his feet.
And Rex barked.
Not a defensive bark. Not an alarm. A strangled, dry, anxious cry. The dog pulled on the leash, circled around Rays, scratched him with animal insistence, as if trying to wake him from a dream too deep. He whimpered, a plaintive sound resembling a prayer.
And then, Rays heard.
Not Rex. A voice.
"You want to see?"
It was neither deep nor high-pitched. It had neither age nor source. A voice without a mouth. A drop of night falling into a bottomless well.
"Let yourself be used. That's the only price. The only one that matters."
Rays blinked into the void. His lips parted, as if rediscovering the taste of his own voice.
"Who... is speaking?"
He hadn't spoken to anyone in weeks. And his voice trembled like a worn thread, fragile, hesitant. A detuned violin in the world's clamor.
"Accept to go through the Three Steps," said the voice, "and I'll offer you a glimpse. A crack in your night. What you've always demanded."
"And if I refuse?"
Silence.
Then, like a cold bite:
"Then you'll become a drained one. An emptied thing. You'll breathe blood. You'll forget the day."
Rays clenched his teeth. Hard. Too hard. He felt his jaw protest under the tension.
"How could a blind man succeed in that? I've heard of these Steps. Whispers. Rumors. Hallucinations in the underground. But that's... not for me."
He lowered his head. His heart pounded so hard he felt dizzy.
"I have nothing to sacrifice. Nothing to give. Even my dog is worthless to this world. So... what could I offer?"
The silence stretched. A full silence. Dense. Then the voice resumed, this time lower, tinged with strange contempt:
"You disappoint me, Rays. I thought you were ready to burn the world for a ray of light. To sell your soul for a glimmer."
Rays bit his lip.
The taste of blood filled his mouth.
He wanted to scream that he would have given everything, but he had nothing left. That the worst wasn't blindness. It was indifference. This world that forgets you while you're still alive.
But he didn't scream.
He thought.
Of Rex.
Of the empty room.
Of the bottles lined up like tombstones.
Of dreams drowning in alcohol.
Of himself.
He found no answer.
So he said nothing.
And yet...
"I choose you anyway," said the voice.
"Why?"
"Because you're pitiful. And that pity isn't a flaw. It's a perfect void. A receptacle. You're ready... precisely because you have nothing left."
And then...
The silence shattered.
---
A horn. A child's cry. A bark.
Rays returned. As if expelled from a formless nightmare.
Rex pushed his nose against him, tugged at his sleeve, shook him. The dog still whimpered, anxious. Rays fell to his knees. Fumbled blindly, found the warm fur. He held it tight. Like a drowning man clutching a lifebuoy.
"It's okay... It's over... I'm here."
Rex's rough tongue licked his cheek. Dust. Saliva. Love.
Rays slowly stood up. Grabbed his cane. Resumed walking. As always, Rex led the way. A dog guiding a master without sight, but not without will.
---
He asked for directions.
"Excuse me... the police station, which way is it?"
Half the people didn't respond. The other half mumbled vague directions. He got lost twice. Returned. Turned. The sidewalk grew heavier with each step.
Thirty minutes later, a teenager stopped.
"The police station?" Rays repeated.
The boy looked at him. Sunglasses, white cane, tired dog. A blind man like the others. But... no. There was something else. A rough calm. A contained pain. A suppressed anger like a blade under the skin.
"I'll walk you there. It's two blocks away."
They walked in silence.
At the end of the path, Rays bowed slightly:
"Thank you. Truly."
"You're welcome. Take care."
---
He entered.
The police station's lobby was gray, functional, filled with hurried people and anonymous shadows. But as soon as Rays crossed the threshold, time seemed to stop.
Eyes turned toward him.
A thin man, sunglasses, emaciated dog, white cane. A glint of misery.
And Rays spoke.
"Hello... I've been chosen... for the first step."
A silence froze the air.
A policeman dropped his pen. A uniformed officer stopped typing. An invisible murmur ran through the walls.
Rays stood there.
Small.
Trembling.
Blind.
But chosen.