Sezel was left alone, staring into an abyss, adrift in the silence of his own soul. The girl's voice lingered like a specter, her words a fading echo that promised answers and threatened annihilation in the same breath.
Go inside the Gate? Right. Why not just tell me to go and hang myself somewhere?
He gulped, his throat dry, and wrenched himself out of his Spirit Meridian. His eyes flew open. He was back in his room, gasping, his body drenched in a cold sweat that plastered his shirt to his skin. The solid wall in front of him did nothing to ground him.
What was that? What in the hell was any of that? He clutched his head, a wave of despair washing over him, threatening to pull him under. He forced himself to breathe, a ragged, desperate sound in the stillness of the room.
It wasn't a dream. She was there. The girl, the goddess, or whatever-she-was, was inside his soul.
The realization was a terror unlike any other. Her words rang in his ears, a clear, damning sentence: You were the one who allowed me to have half of your soul. The concept was bone-chilling.
His mind was a maelstrom of confusion. What do I do? What am I supposed to do now? he screamed at himself, the silent, frantic questions bouncing off the walls of his skull.
The only answer was the echo of her parting words, a siren's call to his own destruction: Go inside the Gate.
He slid off the bed, his legs unsteady, and staggered to the window. The storm raged on, lightning tearing open the night sky like celestial blades. In the distance, the otherworldly, malevolent glow of the Gate pulsed against the darkness. He could feel its wrongness even from here, a sickness in the air.
Sezel stared into the storm for a long, frozen minute, the world outside ceasing to exist. Then, with a sudden, convulsive jerk, he stepped back, snatched his assessment device from the nightstand, and took one last look at the small, sterile room that had been his sanctuary for two months, and closed the door shut.
He wasn't sure if he would return. A part of him, the dark, tired part that had been with him since the slums, hoped he wouldn't.
The gnawing questions, the haunting image of his sister's face—it was a debt that could never be ignored.
I will find it all. The thought was cold and hard. A dangerous indifference settled over him, a look that made his crimson eyes feel dangerous.
The reception was already empty. There was no one from the earlier group; everyone had already left to their fates.
The reception was empty, a ghost town. He walked to the machine, placed his key on the scanner, and stood rigid as a beam of red light scanned his retina.
He moved to the exit, aware of the sensors. The gates would open automatically for anyone approaching directly. He had to be smarter than that. He melted into the shadows behind a large, decorative plant that was taller and more precious than him.
The gates hissed open. A janitor shuffled in, shaking a dripping umbrella. As the man turned, Sezel exploded from his hiding spot, a blur of motion that skidded through the closing gap just before the doors sealed shut. He was out.
He hid in the shadows, observing the guards. They moved like stone sentinels, impervious to the storm. They will be hard to invade, he thought, a grim smile on his lips. But why go through the front door when there's a perfectly good, and probably much more exciting, back way?
But first, he needed a weapon. Going out there without a weapon would be stupidity, and I'm a lot of things, but certainly not that stupid.
His plan was simple: the weapon storage building. He'd climb to the roof and jump the fence.
But that too included getting up the weapon storage building without being seen and there were cameras too.
But his luck seemed to help him when he was trying to walk to his own doom. Just as he was about to move, the sky detonated. A deafening crack of thunder shook the very foundations of the facility, and the world went black. The power grid had failed. It was his chance.
Sezel ran with all he had. He scaled a maintenance ladder on the side of the weapons storage building, his movements fluid and sure. Inside, the building was a treasure trove of deadly toys. Now this place is stacked.
In the last two months, Sezel had seen all kinds of ways to run away from this place. He couldn't stay here forever, he just wanted to learn a few things and then leave. But fate, it seems, had other plans.
Sezel smirked, glancing around, but he didn't have the luxury of time. He had to get out before the lights go on and the cameras come online.
So let's see what should we take. He ran his hands over the cold steel of the weapons, searching for something, and among them, he saw a familiar-looking sword. A katana.
He brushed his hands over the sleek saya; it was a perfect work of art, lacquered in black and white with an inlay of silver flowers.
It feels… familiar.
He didn't question it. He tied it to his waist, snatched a heavy-caliber pistol and several magazines, and climbed to the roof.
The storm had worsened, the rain lashing at him like icy shards. Under the warring light of the moon and the Gate, he launched himself from the roof, clearing the perimeter fence and landing hard on the empty street below.
Everything was closed. People shut inside their homes, terrified of the gate and the potential destruction it held in its wake. The cheerfulness of the city had died down, and the ominous silence had taken over.
Sezel didn't need to know the direction, even a five-year-old kid would be able to find his way to the bright purple and dark light that worked like a source of light for the entire city at this point.
Sezel soon reached the gate. Hiding behind a derelict building, he watched as Slayers, their faces pale with terror, jumped into the shimmering, violent tear in reality.
The last cohort of the five-hundred-strong expedition disappeared inside.
Sezel gulped hard. Now, only the elite remained. A wall of over a hundred high-Rank Slayers and officials stood between him and his destination and he had to go past them and jump inside the damn thing.
A group of Slayers with the crescent moon badge jumped inside, and then no one did.
It was not certain where the gate would spawn you inside the confined area of the Spirit Realm, so Slayers were sent in groups together.
Am i really going to do it? Should I? Well i need to make it back to the slums in one piece, so... ahh what the hell am i saying. His thoughts were beyond chaotic He couldn't think straight.
There was no plan. No strategy.
Fuck it all. The thought was a roar of pure, nihilistic defiance. He took a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs, and burst from cover. He sprinted straight at the veterans in front.
Shouts erupted. "Halt! Identify yourself!"
Dozens of weapons were leveled at him. He didn't stop. He dropped low, sliding on the slick, rain-soaked pavement. He shot through a gap in the line, a disorienting blur of motion.
He was past them. He was on the platform.
Raelion stood right in front of him, his face a mask of pure disbelief.
Sorry, and...uh thanks for your time. He gave Raelion a last look.
He didn't hesitate. He didn't look back. He launched himself forward and plunged headfirst into the shimmering, violent tear in reality. For a moment, the world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of screaming colors, and then his body was gone, swallowed whole by the Gate.
"Fucking brat!" Raelion barked, his voice lost to the storm. With a curse that was both furious and a little bit impressed, he leaped in right behind him.