The creature was closing in, and Lucid was running out of options. He didn't know what to do. That terrifying, hideous thing had managed to shake him to his core. He was frozen, his will to retreat was replaced by a fight-or-flight instinct that left him paralyzed.
A step.
The creature took another step closer.
Please, please, please... is this some kind of prank?
A step.
'I'm scared shitless... where are the cameras?'
A tear slid down his cheek, tracing the fear on his face.
"That's right—cameras. This has to be some sick TV show."
"These bastards, they want reactions, right… Well, I'll just stand still. Give them no entertainment."
The creature stopped in front of him for a moment, giving him a slight faint of hope that confirmed his suspicions.
"Yeah, that's right. No reaction from me. This… isn't funny…"
A desperate thought formed in his mind. Whether it was the fight-or-flight instinct freezing him, or the sickening idea that this was some twisted social experiment, Lucid stood there—frozen in fear, unwilling to move.
Suddenly, something lunged at him. It was time to act. He twisted to the side, while his balance broke from the attack, grazing his shirt ripping it slightly, he landed hard on his back in pain. He caught sight of a leech-like limb—or perhaps a long twisted arm—protruding toward him. It was a shadowy form, making faint, whisper-like noises as it moved.
Without hesitation, he took a dangerous gamble. Hastily pushing himself up with his hands on the ground, as if preparing to sprint a race, he dashed toward the monster.
A reckless gamble—but it paid off. He darted past the treacherous creature in one swift move, momentarily falling partially on his front but quickly getting back up and running.
This time, he didn't charge forward like a headless chicken. Instinct took over, and he mentally marked the two spots where he'd slammed into invisible walls before. The path behind him was almost certainly sealed, and the same turn would only send him looping back to the start—trapped in an endless chase with the relentless creature at his heels.
There was only one way out.
So an idea formed, a reckless Idea, an idea So adjacent and backwards more stupider compared to his bid to out narrow the creature in the closed street.
The idea that formed in his mind was reckless—run back through the rift, straight toward the place the creature had come from. As stupid as it sounded, it was the only chance he had left. The alternative was to keep darting into the same invisible walls, circling back to where he'd started, trapped in an endless chase. Sooner or later, exhaustion would take him, and he'd collapse, right into the creature's grasp.
Without a second thought, Lucid spun sharply to his right, narrowly dodging one of the creature's long, shadowy arms grazing the back of his arm.
"OW!"
Pain flared through his nerves, but he didn't slow. He ran on with ragged, desperate breaths—each gasp a plea to keep going, he wasn't ready to give up.
'No not yet'
"I'm… I'm almost there…" he panted while his legs trembled. "I need to live."
The rift shimmered just meters away, a jagged tear in the air pulsing with eerie light. It was like shattered glass reflecting fragments of reality, revealing only darkness within.
But something caught Lucid's eye—standing in the middle of the street was a little boy, clutching a worn stuffed animal. His round, innocent eyes were fixed on Lucid, calm and unblinking. The boy spoke softly, his voice cutting through the pounding in Lucid's ears and drowning out the silent, relentless footsteps of the creature behind him.
"Mister, have you seen my mommy?"
'A kid?!'
Lucid skidded to a halt, his heart beat in confusion and alarm. At that moment his instincts took over—he seized the boy's wrist with a firm grip and yanked him toward the rift with him. Without hesitation, he scooped the child into his arms—one of them slick and bloodied—and leapt through.
The instant they crossed the threshold, a barrage of sound crashed into his mind—screams, chaos, and noise pouring from every direction. At the same time, his body was plummeting into what felt like an endless abyss. Through it all, he clutched the boy tightly to his chest, shielding him as though the world itself meant to tear them apart.
Then, a voice surged through him not heard, yet unmistakably clear, as if it spoke directly inside his thoughts. It resonated not only in his mind but deep in the marrow of his soul. He was confused and bewildered in that moment—but that bewilderment shattered with the heavy impact against the ground. They tumbled through the unknown, sliding down a steep bulge. He was rolling, twisting, each jolt sending sharp pains through his body and forcing muffled grunts from his throat.
A voice resounded through the thin air—no, within his very being.
[ Welcome, travelling soul. ]
[ Your journey toward enlightenment has begun. You will be tested. ]
'Huh…? What are these voices?' Lucid thought—only to feel his own thoughts being overwritten, overshadowed by something alien.
[ Any failure to complete the trial within the allotted time or conditions will result in the forfeit of one life. ]
[ Trial Rank: B ]
[ Objective: Reach the core and slay the shadow. ]
[ Participants: 2 ]
[ May your journey begin. ]
The monotone voice faded into the void. It was strangely pleasant, yet cold—like an official reading out laws and punishments without the faintest hint of care.
Weak and coughing up blood, Lucid loosened his grip. His glasses were shattered—one lens completely gone—and his school uniform was rumpled and torn, his T-shirt beneath frayed at the edges.
The boy groaned, the impact having rattled him as well. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, small hands pressing against the floor for support. He then reached both hands out toward Lucid, his face tight with worry.
"Mister, you're so hurt—"
Lucid glanced up at him briefly, then forced himself to stand despite his trembling legs. He coughed hard, tasting iron.
"No problem…" cough "…it's no problem."
As the words left his lips, something flickered at the edge of his vision—a pale, white shape, faintly rectangular, with shadowy features rippling like smoke across a flat, hovering plane. Upon its surface, runes or letters shifted and swayed, as though inviting him to read them.
'What the…?'
It read—
***
[ Name: Lucid ]
[ Rank: Unknown ]
[ Soul Concentration: Latent ]
[ Trait: Unknown ]
[ Faith Essence: 0 / 6000 ]
[ Followed Path: None ]
[ Description: Marked by the gaze of a deity. Possesses clarity of mind and unyielding resolve. Faces adversity and hatred, yet continues along an unchosen, uncertain path without deviation. ]
***
'A what now?'
'No.. no i must be dreaming'
The boy seemed to notice something hanging in the air as well, though he gave it no thought. Instead, he looked at Lucid with a regretful expression. One that almost seemed to blame himself for what had happened.
"You… said… your mom… right?" Lucid asked, his voice breaking the moment of silence.
At his words, the boy's face lit up with sudden joy—only for it to falter, replaced by confusion and fear as he glanced around.
They had fallen into some kind of rift, and their surroundings were. wrong. The ground, the air, even the horizon seemed twisted, as if reality itself had been rearranged into something alien. It felt less like a place and more like a strange, foreign dream that didn't want them there.
It was strange—neither hot nor cold.
Before them rose an endless wall of black and grey, stretching so far it seemed to merge with the horizon. Above, where the radiant sun should have shone, hung a dark, roiling eclipse—a nebula-like sphere that glowed faintly with its own eerie light. That dim illumination painted the sky in shades of grey, with the faintest trace of blue shimmering at the edges.
Lucid turned slowly. Behind them lay a barren wasteland, dotted with skeletal trees that clung stubbornly to the cracked earth. There was no sign of life—only the hollow stillness of a land long dead. The ground looked as though it had been scorched in some distant calamity, leaving nothing but desolation in its wake.
"Am I… dreaming?" Lucid muttered, his voice barely more than a breath while his thoughts accidentally spilled into sound.
He faced the wall again. It extended without end, left and right, unbroken and absolute. No matter where he looked, the same bleak scenery met his eyes. The boy's small hand tightened around his, the other arm clutching a worn doll. His gaze followed Lucid's, drawn toward the same unending wall, as though trying to see what he saw.
There, ahead of them, was a narrow opening in the wall. It seemed to be the only way forward.
Lucid stepped toward it cautiously. He was skeptical, but too exhausted and battered to question it. The rush of adrenaline had long since left him; now there was only pain and fatigue.
As he walked, a fragment of memory stirred—the monotone voice from before, echoing faintly in his mind.
'Any participants unable to… shall forfeit their life.'
He frowned, trying to recall the rest of the sentence, but it slipped away like water through his fingers.
'What was that about?'
After some time, they crossed the threshold. Inside, two colossal walls stretched upward, parallel to each other, their tops almost seeming to disappear into the grey-blue haze above but it did have a certain height. Lucid kept his eyes forward, following the path between them, until another barrier came into view.
As he squinted, he noticed two narrow passages—one on the left, one on the right.
He would have to choose.