Kal's gait was uneven.
Not injured.
Not wounded.
Just drained.
Like a man walking away from something that almost killed him.
Sweat clung to his back. His legs trembled slightly with each step. Behind him, Clare walked normally, sipping water. The sunlight caught the thin line of sweat running down her neck, glistening as if she hadn't even broken a rhythm.
Kal entered his room and collapsed onto the metal bed.
The cold surface pressed against his spine.
The clock ticked eleven.
His stomach twisted.
A strange sour taste gathered in his mouth , that hollow, acidic sensation when you've burned too much energy and haven't eaten properly. He swallowed.
He didn't just want food.
He wanted sweetness.
Coffee.
Noise.
People.
To sit somewhere ordinary and hear cups clink.
To watch strangers argue about nothing important.
To feel… normal.
For a moment.
He dragged himself up and went to the bathroom. After washing his face, he changed into a simple formal shirt, cap and trousers , the new clothes he had.
When he stepped out, Clare was already ready.
"Don't let your guard down," she said calmly. "Be aware of everything. And don't stay out late. The night belongs to the night walkers."
Kal rolled his eyes and thought.
"Stop lecturing me like you're my mom. I know."
she handed him a bundle of cash.
"For a week. Ask again next week."
Kal looked down.
The notes were unlike anything he had seen before. Translucent, tinted with faint red, and on them ,a king standing tall while people bowed before him.
His mouth fell open.
He had never seen that much money in one place.
Clare walked away without another word.
Kal squeezed the bundle tightly.
"People don't just have money… they own it," he muttered. "And the ones who need it most… have none."
He returned to his room to hide it.
Then he froze.
The room was empty.
Just a metal bed.
A cracked wall.
Old clothes on the floor.
"…Right."
He laughed dryly.
"I don't even own a cupboard."
He couldn't carry that much cash outside either.
After a moment of hesitation, he tore a piece of cloth, wrapped the money tightly, tied it in a knot, and shoved it beneath the bed frame.
"The only thing I can do now is pray no one steals it."
He stepped outside.
In daylight, the sketchy area didn't look so sketchy.
A few men sat around a broken table playing chess. Kids gathered around them, arguing over moves. Women walked past carrying their children, dressed neatly in school uniforms.
Life.
Ordinary.
Messy.
Real.
Kal slowed down.
"So people here struggle just like us…"
He shook his head.
"What am I saying? Struggle and success are two sides of the same coin. If everyone became a millionaire, who would remain a A farmer? A researcher?doctor? A teacher? "
"Maybe AI could replace some of them one day," he murmured. "But what would be left for humans then?"
He looked at the sky.
"Humans feel alive because they struggle. If there is no resistance… what is the point of living?"
He exhaled slowly.
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Maybe I'll understand after I get what I want," he said quietly. "For now… I need information."
Where am I?
How does this world work?
And is there any way back?
The moment Kal crossed the broken church boundary, it felt like stepping into another universe.
The air changed first.
Warm.
Fragrant.
Bread.
Grilled meat.
Sweet syrup.
Then the architecture rose around him , glass towers bending like waves, balconies wrapped in silver lines, roads layered above each other.
And the vehicles.
They weren't rolling.
They were gliding.
Long metallic shapes curved like snakes in the sky, translucent crafts shaped like dolphins drifting between lanes. None of them cast shadows.
Kal stopped.
His breath caught.
"Look, Mom! That man has green eyes! It's so awesome!"
He turned.
A little boy was pointing at him, jumping excitedly while his mother tried to pull his hand down gently.
Kal smiled warmly.
Then he turned back,and froze.
People were staring.
Not all.
But enough.
Some bikers had slowed beside the pedestrian lane. A few people walking had stopped. Their eyes scanned him again.
His forehead grew damp.
He walked forward slowly, forcing a polite smile.
"Keep moving."
"Don't run."
"Don't look guilty."
As he crossed them, he pulled his cap lower.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath. "I forgot about the green eyes."
His heart thudded faster.
He avoided direct eye contact now, glancing left and right instead.
A massive building caught his attention
,fully transparent glass walls, escalators floating inside, clothes hanging on silver rails, people browsing calmly.
A mall.
He entered.
Cool air brushed his face.
He approached a staff member, keeping his head slightly down.
"Excuse me… goggles?"
"Fifth floor, sir."
He nodded without looking directly at their eyes and took the lift up.
The fifth floor was filled with eyewear.
Mirrors everywhere.
Rows of frames ,black, silver, tinted, reflective.
He picked one up.
Tried it.
Looked into the mirror.
Adjusted.
Tilted his head slightly.
Took it off.
Tried another.
His "woman instinct" kicked in unconsciously.
He leaned closer to the mirror.
Turned his face left.
Then right.
Checked how it sat on his nose.
Pushed his hair back.
Tried imagining how others would see him.
"Does this sharpen my jawline?"
"Does it make me look suspicious?"
"Too bold?"
"Too soft?"
He swapped them again.
And again.
He stepped back.
Then leaned in closer.
Adjusted the angle.
After nearly forty minutes, he chose a black, fully tinted pair.
He stared at himself.
His green eyes were invisible now.
He exhaled in relief.
Outside the mall, music drifted through the street.
Four kids played drums made from buckets and metal tins. A girl sang, her voice raw but confident.
Kal stopped.
Watched.
Something about it felt grounding.
He dropped a coin into their case.
The girl smiled without breaking rhythm.
His stomach growled loudly.
He pressed a hand over it.
"Yeah, yeah. I know."
Further ahead, a river shimmered under sunlight.
Huge silver fish leapt from the water. Birds swooped down trying to catch them.
And then,the bridge.
It spiraled upward like a corkscrew. The entrance curved inward, giving the illusion of being sucked into a vortex.
Kal's feet stopped.
His chest tightened.
It looked like stepping into a whirlpool.
A little boy ran straight into it, laughing, his mother chasing behind him.
Kal blinked.
He looked across.
The boy emerged safely on the other side.
He gave a nervous laugh.
"I'm overthinking."
He stepped forward.
Inside, the surface beneath his feet rotated slowly, but strangely,he wasn't spinning .
People around him weren't spinning as well.
He walked straight.
His steps faltered, uneven and unsure, as if his sense of balance hadn't adjusted to the illusion yet. The world tilted for him.
But the locals walked past without the slightest disturbance , steady, unaffected, as though nothing was wrong at all.
His black goggles felt heavy.
Near the exit, he paused.
He removed them for a brief second and turned backward, watching the surreal view as he stepped out in reverse.
After stepping outside, he noticed a man answering a woman in front of a camera. She held a microphone with a bright sticker on it ,a news logo.
Kal froze.
He wasn't wearing his goggles.
A second passed. Then it hit him.
He turned away quickly, pulling them back over his eyes.
"Shit."
"Sir! Sir!"
A voice behind him.
His spine stiffened.
He turned slightly,
The taxi driver.
The same one from last night.
Running toward him.
"Don't run."
"Don't run."
"Don't."
Ahead, a large café.
Glass walls.
People eating.
Steam rising from cups.
His mouth filled with saliva.
Without thinking further, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The smell of coffee wrapped around him instantly.
For a second,he felt almost human again.
Kal looked around like a child inside a toy store.
Behind curved glass counters, cakes were displayed like jewels , strawberry glaze shining under soft lights, layered chocolate towers dusted with gold powder, delicate pastries shaped like flowers.
Robotic arms slid trays smoothly across the counter. Young women in short green skirts and white shirts tied at the waist moved between tables, their steps precise but elegant.
Kal tried to walk confidently but he didn't.
His foot caught the leg of a chair.
He stumbled forward.
A fork clinked somewhere.
He flailed slightly,
and somehow regained balance.
He cleared his throat and pretended nothing happened.
After scanning the area, he spotted a round corner table near the glass wall.
Empty.
He smiled brightly and sat down.
A small circular button rested on the table.
He pressed it.
Within seconds, a waitress approached
short green skirt, white shirt knotted at her midriff, pen tucked behind her ear.
Kal's eyes dropped instinctively for a second, "Sir?"
He blinked.
"Sir?" Louder this time.
"Sorry," he straightened. "Can I get a caramel hazelnut latte… extra foam. And, um… one strawberry cheesecake. The layered one."
"Certainly."
She scribbled it down and left with a polite smile.
Kal kept his glasses on.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling ,wavy patterns of light flowing like liquid across it.
He exhaled slowly.
Then,the chair opposite him moved.
The scrape was subtle.
But heavy.
Kal's eyes shifted downward.
A familiar man sat there.
Calm.
Relaxed.
Watching him.
Kal's lips parted slightly.
Closed.
He gave a small nod instead.
"How is your girlfriend's condition?" the man asked casually.
Kal's fingers tightened under the table.
"Oh..."
He stopped himself.
Forced a polite confusion.
"Excuse me, sir… have we met before?"
The man smiled faintly.
A knowing smile.
...
Far away.
Inside a black room lit only by screens.
A floating display projected the news footage.
A digital keyboard hovered over a glass desk.
A man with long green hair, black beard and moustache, leaned forward.
He paused the video at the exact frame Kal had removed his glasses near the spiral bridge.
Green eyes.
Clear.
Unfiltered.
Behind him stood another man holding a printed photo , Kal's face, smiling faintly from an earlier capture.
The operator resumed the video.
Then uploaded the still image to a secure site.
Text appeared.
"Is there still a bounty?"
The response came instantly.
"Send location ,5 million."
"Capture alive , 20 million."
The green-haired man leaned back slowly.
"Alive," he murmured.
"Interesting."