A lulling flame originating from the other stretch of the alley flickered its orange hue, drawing the shivering young man's attention. Surrounding it were figures huddled around the barrel fire, irradiating the aura of beaten beggars, yet their eyes were predatory.
The soothing glow irked the late teen's desire to come closer, but he knew better. The fire was a most likely a ruse, a trap made to beckon weaker beggars to the warmth of flame before robbing them of everything.
'Only a fool would put their trust in others. Trust is a commodity and a luxury in this squalor.'
Compared to that possibility, on the damp ground with only two abandoned empty crates serving as barriers to the cruel elements of night, it would be much safer despite the accustomed discomfort. He pulled his feet close to his chest, preserving what little body he had while his unkempt and long hair offered scant protection from harsh cold of the night as his tired, and gloomy eyes wandered the open street.
'I need to get some shut eye before finding a spot to beg...'
He thought as his sunken eyes narrowing at the open street.
There were hawkers who spoke softly of their most likely stolen wares drifted by in the sea of passersby. Men and women passed, eyeing each other with suspicion, while harlots barely hid their cleavages, hinting at their services using seductive gazes at men's primal urges to appease.
This outer region of the dense city was a damned place, where corruption, despair and debauchery festered like the frequent plagues that haunted it, a stark inverse of the central city, where those with affluence and power laid nestled within the thick impenetrable walls surrounding a mountainous fortress.
His starved and exhausted gaze moved to his jacket's inner pocket, the weight of a few coins brought him some comfort, garnered from begging masked and hooded figures most certainly from within the walled off city visiting the Crimson Light District to fulfill their carnal desires. He had saved enough for a hearty meal or the services of a whore, but nowhere near for the toll required to delve deeper within the walled city and the necessary bribes for an identification card.
'I might never leave this place, but at the least I could afford some decent food, maybe I can get some real meat near their expiration. That would be a bargain…'
He thought before his vision was soon preoccupied by the distant white lights above the valley. Atop the mountain peak were an array of artificial luminescence, reminding him of the disparity between those who dwell in the dark squalor of the valley and the brightness of the inner city—a truth too apparent to ignore.
The outer rings of the city was a suffocating rookery, a testament to the unchecked growth and grim necessities of the city. Dotting the valley where the outer city was built were towers erected to detect Fractures, tall monoliths pulsating a purple haze with invisible sirens built in case of emergency broadcasts. They were grim guardians that stay vigilant against fractures and threats to their reality.
Below these tall monoliths was much less appealing reality: abandoned and dilapidated housing units that were crude imitation of a bygone era before the fracture, populated by scavengers, thugs, brothels, gang bases and mercenaries. Such brutalist architecture mirrored the state of the outer areas.
On the street corners were harlots, drunks, thieves and hawkers who'd double cross each other for their own gain or amusement. Homes were crammed together, tenements erected from crude material, forming narrow passages and alleys that suffocating canyons of disgust and diseases.
The air was thick with smog from factories erected far away from the precious lungs of the walled-off elites, suffocating instead those within the valley. These factories were a place of labor for those desperate for money within harsh and hazardous environments of flames and machinery.
The grueling labors fueled the city's energies and resources that headed to the walls through underground train tracks, a reminder that they were merely pawns to the walls.
The suffocating air was something slum dwellers had grown accustomed too, the intoxicating incense of the nearby Crimson light district lingering to counteract the stench somewhat.
His crimson eyes, mutated by Fracture radiation, were glued to the lights from the peak despite them seemingly being just specks.
'I wonder what the life in the inner city would be like.'
His dream would not come soon, it might not ever, his fate was cast down into the rookery, a place of corruption, a place of despair. His eyes weighed heavy, his body relenting to the desire to sleep.
A son of the streets will stay in the streets…
…
Crack!
The sound breaking glass emanated in the air, causing him to grow alert to the shrieks of passersby and the shining of the purple lights high above on the monoliths.
"Attention all citizens of Icarus District, quickly disperse. A fracture has been detected. Relevant forces will soon arrive. I repeat…"
The alarming sounds of sirens and the robotic voice echoed in the air, turning everyone in a state of turmoil. A sea of human appendages and screams passed through the street, making him momentarily forget his panging hunger, replaced by the most dangerous thought, curiosity.
Standing at the narrow street of this crummy district was a Fracture, a tear in reality where a fragmented divergent history of humanity's past spilled to taint the world. It had been a few decades since they appeared, and since then the world was met with turmoil through the Characters, a product of Fractures with themes and concepts.
'Where's a damn Actor when you need one?'
His unrelenting gaze kept to the fracture, watching as it slowly grew in size and the cracks parting to open a portal, at the other side was an interior of a large tent he recognized from an aged picture book he scavenged years before. It was the interior of a circus tent.
The portal swirled and exuded a vibrant violet light, mesmerizing with echoes of laughter and honking coming from within. It was almost…soothing.
"No!"
His brows furrowed before he shook his head from the surreal feeling. It was a sensory hazard, tricking him, beckoning him, but he wasn't going to be swayed that easily.
He slapped his ears, bit his lip and causing it to bleed.
'Damned Fracture Song!'
The phenomena was a common occurrence but despite his relatively weak body, his will was honed in the darkness, a hope that never truly died but merely flickered.
Just as his bare feet planted onto the cobblestone road to escape, the buildings began to shake uncontrollably as the crowds pushed and pulled to get away.
Moments later, the buildings close in close proximity to the fracture began to wane and crack from the pulling gravitation. Some debris fell in and was sucked in, increasing its size as the laughter inside grew louder, more feral.
As he tailed the crowd, he heard a visceral scream before the ground in front of him cracked and buckled with some people being crushed by the sudden weight of a figure before him. A strongman, his back displaying absurd amounts of muscle and fat, his height double the young man's own height. Screams grew even louder as the figure pushed and threw the people in front of it, causing violent crimson to cover the walls of the street.
The street air, damp with blood and gore violated his sight and lung, while the Carnival Strongman continued to pummel, throw and smash everything in its sight.
He turned quickly to the fracture, its expansion seemingly at a hold, its cracks continuing to grow in size as his sights became focused to the collapsed corner boutique, its mirror panes cracked and broken, a viable place he could pass the Fracture and exit out to the adjacent street.
He didn't have time to contemplate at the sanity of his plan, he had to move or else he risked to become another mush for the scavengers to pick up and discard. He had only one place to run, his sanity be damned if it meant he'd escape.
'Fuck It!'
His lungs strained, tunnel vision becoming more apparent, his mental sharpness growing dull, a common symptom of those unmarked by the Mark nearing a fracture.
He knew he'd most likely die due to Fracture Pollution, but likely fatality is better than certain fatality by the strongman. His movements grew more strained as he vaulted over the crumbled wall where glass pane once stood, scrambling through fallen tables and seats, past the bodies of the dead from the initial Fracture emergence, their faces twisted to a permanent smile despite their body already beginning to corrode.
A sudden force slammed onto his chest, a blurring motion crossed him overhead at the same time. The air in his lungs exploded out, his eyes wide open from the sudden pain as he felt a crack resound from inside him.
His body slammed through the door of the ruined establishment, his body shaking from the sudden impact. He was on the verge of unconsciousness, he heard the distinct sound of honking clown shoes on creaking wood.
Their gazes met: One kept a spectral and soulless gaze with pastel coloring streaked upwards resembling a smile, their eyes glowing with an orange hue. The other, broken and pained in his dulled glare of defiance and fear.
His ribs were broken, his mind dulled by the Fracture's pollution, and his life at the edge. The acrobatic clown clenched the young man's throat with one arm, gazing at him with a sinister smile before throwing him into the maw of the fracture.
This was it, he would die there, starving and scared. He hadn't even reached his eighteenth but soon he'll die, remembered as just another casualty. With what little resolve, with what little strength, he took a quick breath and mustered a faint outcry, close to a murmur.
"Fuck…you…"
The Fracture exuded out a violent violet light, not from within it, but from the boy thrown. Runic markings chained around his wrists, his pupils dilating and exuding a glowing violet. This was it, the Invitation, a phenomena, a cursed gift that allows ordinary citizens to become an Actor.
["Winter, Welcome to the..."]
A voice in his mind ushered his name, Winter, seemingly a last echo of his sanity now gone. His eyes closed, and his breath grew still…
…