The trio moved through the city for several minutes before arriving at a cluster of industrial storage containers, stacked haphazardly like forgotten relics.

  The sun had nearly set, casting long shadows between the rusted metal walls. Night was closing in fast.

  Nigel knew they needed to stop—even if just for a little while.

  "This is as good a place as any to rest for a few hours," he decided. "William, I need you to scout the area periodically with your ability. Let us know if anyone approaches. The rest of the time, get some sleep."

  William nodded immediately. "Got it."

  Dovak grinned. "Oh? So you’ve got the makings of a leader, huh?"

  Nigel exhaled. "I think it’s a little early to say that."

  Dovak laughed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Then, oh great leader, assign me a task, too!"

  Nigel smirked slightly. "Yeah. Shut up for a while."

  Dovak raised a finger as if to argue—then, just like that, he went silent.

  The three of them sat against the containers, passing around rations and water.

  Dovak was the first to drift off, his snores light but obnoxious, a small pool of drool collecting at the corner of his mouth.

  Every twenty minutes, as instructed, William scouted the area using his skill to blend with the environment.

  The hours dragged on, but Nigel never fully relaxed.

  Even when he closed his eyes, it was only to blink. His ears stayed sharp, tracking every distant sound.

  Dovak, meanwhile, slept like a damn rock.

  The rotations continued until the clock ticked past eleven.

  Then—

  Dovak shot to his feet.

  His entire demeanor shifted in an instant.

  The easygoing smirk vanished, replaced by something sharp, intense—like he had become a different person entirely.

  "You feel that?" His voice was unusually serious.

  Nigel’s eyes darkened. "Yeah."

  A while ago, the city was quite alive—distant echoes of battle, the occasional gunfire, the faint stir of movement.

  Now—nothing.

  A silence so unnatural, it felt like the world was holding its breath.

  They waited.

  Seconds ticked by. Then a full minute.

  Nothing.

  "Maybe it was nothing, haha," William said, though his voice lacked confidence.

  Dovak’s head snapped toward him.

  "Grab onto something."

  William blinked. "What?"

  "I said hold on, damn it!" Dovak barked.

  Nigel had already sensed it. He gripped the metal latch of a storage container as tightly as possible.

  William, still confused, hurriedly followed suit.

  Then—the earth shook.

  A deafening roar ripped through the air, a sound so powerful it felt like the city itself was screaming.

  The towering skyscrapers that once reflected the moonlight began to twist and shift. Some sank into the ground, swallowed whole, while others slid unnaturally across the horizon, as if dragged by an unseen force.

  The city was shrinking.

  "Get to the streets, now!" Dovak bellowed, his voice barely cutting through the chaos.

  But Nigel and William heard him.

  They released their grips and ran.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The storage containers behind them vanished in an instant, the ground swallowing them whole like a collapsing stage.

  The moment their feet hit the main road, the world lurched.

  The ground beneath them shifted violently, as if the entire city was being rearranged in real time.

  A wave of nausea slammed into Nigel. His stomach twisted painfully, his balance faltering as he dropped to one knee, clutching his chest to steady his breath.

  "Hold it together, buddy!" Dovak grunted, grabbing his arm and yanking him upright.

  William rushed to his other side, helping him stay on his feet.

  The shifting continued for minutes, an endless churn of movement—

  Then, suddenly, it stopped.

  Silence fell.

  But the city was still moving.

  Nigel could feel it, a deep, crawling sensation beneath his skin, as if the streets themselves were breathing.

  Then, a message flashed before their eyes.

  Dovak scowled. "That does not sound good."

  His eyes skimmed the text, and his expression twisted in disgust.

  "A damn poem? I hate poems." He exhaled sharply. "We need to move. Now. Nowhere in this city is safe."

  "Agreed," Nigel muttered. "We stay together. Maximum alert."

  A sudden shiver ran down William’s spine.

  "Do you hear that?"

  Nigel frowned. "Hear what?"

  William’s voice was barely above a whisper. "It sounds like… carnival music."

  Dovak’s brow furrowed. "I hear it too. But faintly."

  William turned his head, his gaze locking onto something in the distance.

  "It’s coming from there."

  He pointed at a towering skyscraper.

  Before any of them could react—the building vanished.

  In its place, a dirt road stretched into the horizon.

  The ground rumbled again, shifting the entire landscape around them. Buildings warped and faded, disappearing only to reappear elsewhere in twisted new formations—

  But the road remained.

  A single, unbroken path.

  William’s hand trembled.

  "They’re here."

  Nigel and Dovak turned.

  Down the newly formed street, a procession of ten people marched forward, moving with eerie, unnatural synchronization.

  They wore brightly colored, extravagant clothing, their robes adorned with elaborate patterns that shimmered in the dim light. But their movements were wrong. Their limbs swayed in perfect unison, bending at impossible angles, their steps too light—as if they weren’t even touching the ground.

  And at the front of the procession, leading them like a grand performer on stage, was a man.

  Tall—almost unnaturally so.

  Thin as a skeleton.

  The man wore a crisp black tuxedo, perfectly tailored to his impossibly thin frame. Atop his head sat a grotesquely long top hat—easily half a meter in height, stretching toward the sky like an absurd monument.

  A wide, unnerving grin carved across his face.

  Then—his eyes found them.

  The entire group stopped.

  The grin twisted, distorting into something even worse.

  And then—he danced.

  His movements were unnatural, his body bending and contorting in ways that should not have been possible.

  And in perfect sync, his followers moved with him.

  Like puppets on invisible strings, their limbs snapped at grotesque angles, their bodies lurching and twisting as if their bones had been rewired. The air filled with the eerie sound of joints cracking, of flesh bending beyond its limits.

  Then—the man’s head snapped upward.

  His smile grew wider.

  Far too wide.

  And in a single, blurred motion—he vanished.

  Before Nigel or Dovak could react, he reappeared directly in front of William.

  A massive, bony hand shot out—

  And closed around William’s throat.

  With an effortless motion, the man slammed him into the nearest building.

  Concrete exploded on impact.

  William’s body went limp.

  Blood dripped from his forehead, streaking down his pale skin in slow, uneven trails.

  He didn’t move.

  The man tilted his head, admiring his work.

  Then, with an elegant flourish—he resumed his twisted dance.

  Nigel and Dovak launched forward, weapons drawn—

  But in the blink of an eye—

  The world changed.

  They were no longer in the city.

  A vast, endless green field stretched in every direction, the horizon swallowing the city entirely.

  Dovak’s jaw tightened. "So that’s what ‘Illusion Circus’ meant."

  "Back-to-back. Now."

  Nigel’s voice was firm, commanding.

  He had experience with illusions.

  The man who had attacked William hadn’t just been strong—he had used an ability. A dangerous one.

  Dovak didn’t question him. He immediately pressed his back to Nigel’s, both tense, waiting for an attack.

  Then—voices.

  A woman’s voice rang out, smooth and elegant.

  "Oh, what a delightful pair we have here."

  A man’s voice followed, mocking and cruel.

  "A fine specimen indeed. And here I thought those filthy Debianites were extinct."

  Dovak stiffened.

  His fists clenched, his breathing sharp—

  "You son of a—"

  "Ignore them!" Nigel barked, shoving him slightly.

  Dovak inhaled sharply, his entire body trembling with suppressed rage.

  "I get it," he muttered through gritted teeth. "How do we get out of this?"

  "We’re still in the same place."

  Nigel’s voice was calm but firm.

  "If we focus, we can sense where that bastard who attacked William is—or even William himself."

  Dovak started to speak. "I think we should—"

  He never finished.

  A fist slammed into his face, sending him staggering back.

  Standing before him was a Reikyjiak.

  A humanoid insectoid, its chitinous body gleaming like polished obsidian, towering over them like some grotesque nightmare. Its mandibles clicked, its two scythe-like arms raised, each limb razor-sharp and glistening.

  Dovak was too stunned to react.

  Nigel moved. Instantly.

  He shoved Dovak aside, stepping forward to take his place.

  The Reikyjiak lunged.

  Nigel drew the poisoned daggers he had acquired earlier and slashed rapidly—but the blades barely left a mark, their edges scraping uselessly against the creature’s hardened exoskeleton.

  The Reikyjiak didn’t even flinch.

  Then—it screeched.

  A piercing, high-pitched sound that ripped through the air, drilling into Nigel and Dovak’s skulls like jagged glass.

  Nigel staggered, ears ringing, the world tilting violently beneath him.

  Then—it twisted.

  The Reikyjiak’s form split.

  Suddenly, there were hundreds of identical figures rushing toward him at once, their scythe-like limbs flashing in the fractured light of a shifting, kaleidoscopic sky.