Tic—Tap.
The sound was faint at first.
In the dark streets of a silent city, a few drops of water fell from the sky, tapping lightly against the pavement, as if announcing the arrival of a long-awaited rain.
One of those drops landed on the shoulder of a young man walking alone beneath the empty night.
He stopped.
Slowly, he raised his head and looked up.
The sky above him was completely black, swallowed by thick clouds. No stars. No moon. Only darkness, heavy and endless. His eyes reflected that darkness—empty, hollow, as though the rain meant nothing to him at all.
He let out a quiet sigh.
"Haizz…"
The sound disappeared almost instantly, devoured by the night.
Ashfei continued walking.
The streets were deserted. No cars passed by. No voices echoed between the buildings. From time to time, a few stray cats appeared in the distance, their thin bodies slipping silently through the shadows before vanishing again.
With no destination in mind, he walked forward step by step.
No goal. No home. No place to return to.
He was simply moving.
'I wonder why I'm even here,' he thought.
'Walking around like this in the middle of the night… someone suspicious like me might even get stopped by the police.'
He looked the part.
A thin jacket clung loosely to his frame, soaked at the edges. Beneath it was a simple black shirt, paired with black jeans and worn black sneakers. In the empty streets, under dim streetlights, his appearance alone was enough to invite suspicion.
But he had no choice.
This was the only complete outfit he had left.
"Ah… right."
A bitter expression crossed his face as his memories caught up with him.
"Now I remember why I'm here."
He clenched his fists and looked up at the sky once more. The darkness above felt heavier than before.
"I just became an orphan… at eighteen."
A weak, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Who would've thought?"
"On my eighteenth birthday… the only family I had left… the person who cared for me, who loved me the most …"
His throat tightened.
"My mother… passed away."
Saying those words felt like dragging broken glass through his chest. His voice came out rough and strained, as if resisting him every step of the way.
As if responding to his thoughts, the rain grew heavier.
What began as scattered droplets quickly turned into a downpour. The sound of rain striking the ground thickened, drowning the city beneath it. Cold water streamed down his face, blending with something warmer he refused to acknowledge.
Ash didn't wipe it away.
He let the rain fall freely, washing over him, soaking his clothes, his hair, his skin—anything that could still feel.
His mind drifted back.
Back to the house he had lived in for eighteen years.
The house was old. Cracked walls. Faded paint. Anyone else would have called it abandoned.
To him, it was the warmest place in the world.
That was where his mother lay.
She had been gentle. Beautiful. Stronger than anyone he had ever known. After his father passed away when Ash was ten, she carried everything on her own shoulders.
She worked too hard.
For too long.
And in the end, her body broke.
The disease she suffered from was fatal. Doctors could do nothing but lower their eyes and offer empty apologies, no matter how much money was offered. There was no miracle waiting for them.
She lay on a simple bed, her breathing shallow and uneven. Her once-lively eyes were dim, her body frighteningly thin. Her pale face carried the unmistakable weight of someone who knew their time was running out.
Weakly, she looked at him.
Ash stood there, frozen.
He knew it.
Deep down, he knew she wouldn't be able to stay with him much longer.
"Ashfei… my child… come here."
Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
Hearing his name, Ash snapped back to reality and rushed to her bedside.
"Ah… Ash… my little son …"
"I'm sorry… I can't… walk with you anymore. …"
Her words came out broken, each one weaker than the last.
Ash lowered his head. His hands trembled as he reached out and held hers, afraid that if he let go, she would disappear immediately.
"Ash… listen to me. …"
"Please try to live… even if this world is unfair to you. …"
"Even if you never had a happy childhood… even if you suffered more than someone your age ever should …"
Her voice faded with every sentence.
Ash tightened his grip, desperate to hear every word.
"But remember… this is only a small part of your journey. …"
"This is just the beginning. …"
Her breathing grew shallow.
He knew.
These were her final words.
"So… live well…"
"And…"
"Happy birthday… my dear…"
She smiled.
It was weak. Faint.
But it carried a warmth he would never forget.
Tears streamed down Ash's face as he forced himself to smile back—his most beautiful smile, the one he would remember for the rest of his life.
"Mom… thank you…"
She closed her eyes.
Her breathing stopped.
Her face relaxed, and that gentle smile remained, frozen in place.
She was gone.
Ash fell to his knees beside the bed, still holding her hand.
Tears dripped onto the floor.
From that moment on, he swore it would be the last time he cried.
After her death, he sold the house.
Everything inside it.
Every possession he owned.
All of it was used to build a small grave for her in the Ash Area, beside his father's.
He kept only a small amount of money—just enough to survive for a few days.
If his mother had known, she would have scolded him furiously.
But Ash didn't care.
This was the only thing he could still do for her.
The funeral was small.
Only one person attended.
Him.
After that, he wandered the city like a lost soul. A boy who had lost his father, then his mother, then his home—walking forward with nothing left behind him.
Ashfei's mother passed away on 02-05-2525.
The same day he turned eighteen.
Ashfei moved at an even pace.
His footsteps were steady, neither hurried nor hesitant. Water splashed softly beneath his shoes, rippling across shallow puddles that reflected broken fragments of yellow light. His clothes were completely soaked, fabric clinging coldly to his body, but his expression remained unchanged.
Blank.
As if the storm did not exist.
As if the rain, the cold, and the loneliness of the night could no longer reach him.
He slipped one hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against a thin stack of damp bills. He didn't need to count them. The weight—or lack of it—told him everything.
'Too light.'
A few days, maybe. A week if he stretched it carefully.
Tomorrow—if tomorrow still mattered—he would look for work. Cleaning jobs. Carrying boxes. Anything that paid enough to get through another day. He wasn't picky. Survival didn't allow such luxury.
There was no future beyond that.
Without a college degree, better opportunities were forever out of reach. He wasn't stupid; he knew his own limits and strengths. But intelligence alone meant nothing without qualifications. His mother had never been able to afford his education, and the world had never offered him alternatives.
That was reality.
"Hah… unstable," he exhaled quietly.
His breath fogged briefly in the cold air before fading away.
"What else could possibly go wrong?"
His gaze drifted aimlessly between the wet pavement and the pitch-black sky above as he continued forward, letting the rain numb his senses.
Then—movement.
Ahead, beneath a streetlight flickering like it might die at any moment, dark shapes burst through the rain. At first, they were little more than blurred silhouettes, distorted by distance and falling water.
"…Hm?"
Ash slowed slightly, squinting.
Five black cars.
Their headlights sliced through the downpour, sharp and aggressive. Water sprayed violently from beneath their tires as they raced down the empty street, far too fast for this hour of the night.
"Police?" he murmured.
"At this hour?"
"They're chasing someone, maybe."
His thoughts drifted lazily, lacking any real concern.
'Not my problem.'
With that conclusion, Ash continued walking. He assumed they would pass him by and disappear into the night, just like everything else eventually did.
They didn't.
"Screeeeech—!"
The sound ripped through the rain as the cars slammed to a halt less than ten meters away. Tires screamed against wet asphalt, sparks briefly flashing beneath the streetlights.
The doors flew open.
Nine men stepped out.
They were clad in black metal armor from head to toe, heavy and imposing, their forms built for combat rather than patrol. Modern firearms rested firmly in their hands, fingers hovering dangerously close to the trigger.
These were not ordinary police.
They looked like soldiers—no, something colder. Something stripped of hesitation and empathy, forged purely to follow orders.
'So unlucky,' Ash thought.
Ignoring the faint warning bells ringing in his mind, he attempted to walk past them. He had no desire for trouble, and even less energy to deal with it.
"Stop."
The command was sharp, absolute, and cutting cleanly through the rain.
Ash halted.
Confusion flickered briefly across his face. He searched his memory, replaying the last few minutes. Had he seen someone suspicious? Had he crossed paths with anyone dangerous?
Then it clicked.
A man dressed in black, wandering alone at night.
That man was him.
Slowly, deliberately, Ash raised both hands.
"Ahem… I'm just walking to clear my head," he said calmly. "I don't mean any harm. I'll head home now."
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
There was no fear in it—only emptiness.
To the men before him, it sounded cold. Detached. Untrustworthy.
The man standing at the front said nothing. He merely nodded once.
That was enough.
In an instant, Ash was surrounded.
Two armored men seized his arms with crushing force.
"Hey—what are you doing?"
"Let's go."
He struggled, but it was pointless. Their grip was ironclad, his own strength insignificant by comparison. Rain slicked his hands, making resistance even harder.
They ignored him completely.
Within seconds, he was shoved into one of the cars. The door slammed shut with a heavy metallic thud, sealing him inside. The engine roared to life, drowning out the sound of rain.
The vehicles surged forward, tearing through the city at terrifying speed. Lights streaked past the windows, buildings blurring into meaningless shapes as the streets vanished behind them.
Ash leaned back, forcing himself to breathe.
'Calm down.'
He replayed the last few minutes again and again, searching for a reason—any reason—for what was happening.
Inside the car, two armored soldiers sat beside him, unmoving. In front, the driver focused on the road while another man occupied the passenger seat.
Rain slid down the windows in long, dark lines.
The man in the passenger seat turned slowly. His eyes were sharp, calculating. When he spoke, his voice was low and heavy.
"The Door is approaching."
"…What?"
For the first time that night, genuine shock broke through Ash's blank expression.
The words felt unreal.
Absurd.
And yet, they carried weight.
"That's not possible… right?"
The man didn't answer.
Ash leaned back against the seat, staring out at the rain-soaked city as it slipped further and further away. The world outside already felt distant—like something he no longer belonged to.
'This night won't end,' he thought.
'It was never meant to.'