The sky was the color of bruised steel, clouds sagging low over the city like a warning. Percy Swayder walked with his head down, backpack slung over one shoulder, shoes soaked from the puddles that dotted the cracked sidewalk. The orphanage loomed ahead — a crooked building of faded brick and rusted gutters, its windows like blind eyes watching his approach.
He hated coming back.
School was no sanctuary, but at least there he was ignored. Here, he was hunted.
As he stepped through the iron gate, the familiar creak greeted him like a sigh. The yard was empty — the others were likely inside, waiting. He hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. His left eye, pitch black, caught the glint of the setting sun. His right, turquoise and sharp, saw movement behind the curtains.
They knew he was home.
Inside, the air was thick with mildew and old wood. The hallway stretched like a tunnel, lined with peeling wallpaper and flickering lights. Percy moved quickly, hoping to reach his room unnoticed.
No such luck.
"Hey, hetero freak," came the voice — sharp, mocking, and all too familiar.
Certis.
Percy turned slowly. The red-haired boy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, orange eyes gleaming with cruel delight. Behind him stood two others — Rell and Miko, Certis's usual shadows.
"You get lost in the sewer again?" Certis sneered, stepping forward. "Or did your cursed blood drag you there?"
Percy said nothing. He'd learned silence was safer.
Certis grabbed his backpack and yanked it off his shoulder, spilling its contents onto the floor. Books, a pencil case, a crumpled lunch wrapper. Percy reached down to gather them, but Certis kicked a notebook across the hall.
"Oops," he said. "Guess your freak hands aren't fast enough."
Percy's fingers trembled as he retrieved the notebook. The marks beneath his eyes — jagged, ink-like streaks that pulsed faintly — seemed to darken. He could feel them reacting, like they always did when he was afraid.
"You know," Certis said, circling him, "I heard the Curse hits tomorrow. Big day for you, huh? Wonder what you'll get. My bet's on Lost Soul. Would suit a freak like you."
Percy flinched. The Lost Soul route was rare — almost mythical. No one knew what it meant. Those branded with it vanished. No trials, no tasks. Just gone.
"I hope it's Cursed," Rell added. "Would be fun watching you try to kill an Entity. You'd probably trip over your own feet and die before it even showed up."
They laughed.
Percy stood, clutching his bag to his chest. He didn't cry. Not anymore.
He used to.
Back when he still had a family.
The orphanage hadn't always been his home. Once, there was warmth. A house filled with books and laughter. His mother, Lin Swayder, had been gentle. She sang while cooking, danced in the rain, and kissed the marks beneath his eyes like they were stars. She vanished during the Fall of Japan — a catastrophic event that occurred four years after the Curse arrived. Entire cities swallowed by nightmare realms. Lin had been there, helping evacuate civilians and fighting off entity creatures.
She never came back.
His father, Eugine Swayder, had been a scientist — one of the few who dared to study the Curse. He'd believed it was more than random fate. That it had structure. Meaning.
Percy remembered the late nights, the glowing diagrams, the whispered theories. Eugine had called the Curse a "sentient algorithm of sin." Percy hadn't understood then.
His sister, Elira, had been Purified. Branded at seventeen. Sent into the first realm. She'd written one letter before disappearing.
Each loss had come with a storm.
The day his father died in a lab explosion — thunder cracked the sky open.
The day his mother went missing — rain flooded the streets.
The day Elira was taken — lightning split the clouds as she vanished into the realm.
Since then, Percy had stopped using his name.
He called himself Rain.
Not just because of the weather, but because it was the only thing that ever seemed to understand him. The sky cried when he couldn't. It roared when he was silent. It drowned the world when he felt invisible.
Rain reached his room — a narrow space with a bed, a desk, and a cracked window. He locked the door behind him and collapsed onto the mattress. His fingers traced the ribbon tied around his wrist — violet, faded, Elira's last gift.
He stared at the ceiling, heart pounding.
Tomorrow.
The Curse would come.
He'd seen the awakening once. A boy named Juno. At midnight, a wisp appeared — black smoke curling from his chest, forming symbols in the air. Juno had screamed. Then he'd vanished into the realm.
Rain didn't know wha
t his awakening would look like. But he knew it would hurt.
He closed his eyes.