427 A.E, Hakus 1st, 09:27 P.M

  Nero’s cellphone vibrated against his ear as he called Ilya for the eleventh time in a row, through at least five different apps. Nothing. The blonde boy paced across the living room, concern showing in his posture while he tried to talk past the voicemail.

  — Sweetie, maybe he’s just sleeping? He does have a habit of staying up all night, no? — said Viviane, Nero’s mother, a blonde woman in her forties, her skin even paler than her son’s. Her eyes also carried the grace of the ocean in them, and that left no doubt on whose eyes Nero inherited from. Viviane’s voice stopped Nero’s continuous pacing, and the sound of the woman chopping vegetables prevailed in the silent living room.

  From the dining table, the sound of a cup being hardly placed on the wooden surface calls the blonde boy’s attention. His father, Caesar, laughed, his light tone breaking the awkwardness in the room.

  — Hah! I remember when he used to come over all the time when you two were little brats. It took a bunch of tea and a pill or two for him to finally fall asleep during the sleepovers you had. And who do you think suffered the most? Me and your mother, of course! — Caesar said, laughing once again. Nero’s father had a bulky physique, sand toned skin, a medium sized brown hair with no balding in sight, and a small, but complete beard.

  His hazel eyes hovered around Nero’s expression, noticing the obvious tension in his son. Caesar let out a small sigh, his tone lowering while he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

  — Your friend’s gonna be alright, kid, don’t you worry. Besides, the Outer Ring isn’t as wild as they say. Did you know me and your Uncle Darsh used to live there?

  — Wait, really? That’s… I didn’t know. — Nero muttered, surprise hinting over his face, but the traces of worry hadn’t faded away yet as he faced down, finally placing his phone lightly on the table. — I suppose he’ll be fine, then…

  A sterile white ceiling met Ilya’s half-opened eyes, while he felt an inexplicable coldness near his stomach. His ears rang with a loud tinnitus, but the presence of voices surrounding him was undeniable. Ilya tried to move himself, tried to sit up, tried to scream— but nothing happened. After a few seconds of practical deafness, his ears managed to pick up a few voices.

  — […] victims in two hours? That’s wild. Do you think it has something to do with […] or just some hunger period? — said a masculine, but not too old voice. Probably just a few years older than Ilya.

  — Probably. We can’t estimate the exact number, though, considering how most of the deaths were followed by devouring, and those things can hide bones really well. Besides that, don’t you think it’s a little strange that […] — replied a cold, slightly irritated firm voice, but unmistakably feminine. Ilya couldn’t pick up on the rest.

  — C’mon now, don’t make me fly around searching for bones! I’ve already done […] Oh, wait, that one’s waking up! — said a sulking younger feminine voice, which quickly turned excited at the thought of someone finally surviving because of them.

  — Is that so? Don’t let him wake up yet, or the brat might […] — The firm voice from before replied, and that sentence caught Ilya’s attention.

  Before he could even think about protesting, his eyes seemed to shut off. The white lights faded away, and the sharp buzz bothering his ear also gradually disappeared when his vision turned dark. In a few seconds, Ilya saw himself in the Outer Ring — standing before his past self, frozen at the mouth of the alley. The plastic bag fell to the ground.

  In a few seconds, Ilya saw himself in the Outer Ring. Quite literally — he stood before his own body, or rather, his past self, frozen at the mouth of the alley. The plastic bag fell to the ground.

  Hakus 1st, 06:45 P.M

  Three seconds.

  Ilya felt a sudden weight crash against his chest. The creature was already on him. He stumbled backward, his head slamming against the sidewalk.

  Five seconds.

  The warmth inside him vanished. Sharp teeth sank into his flesh, arranged in multiple rows.

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  A wet splashing sound followed — something Ilya could hear, see, and feel, as part of him was torn away. Pinned to the ground by sharp claws cutting his wrists, he could only pray, despite never believing.

  Did belief matter now?

  — God… help me.

  Nine seconds.

  A sharp crack rang out behind the creature, followed by a deafening scream. Ilya looked up just in time to see a wooden spear piercing through its back. Standing over the handle was a figure he couldn’t make out clearly — only the outline of a long coat–style uniform, pale against the dark.

  Twelve seconds.

  Consciousness was lost. Everything faded into darkness.

  Hakus 2nd, 08:16 A.M

  Ilya’s eyes gradually opened when he was met with a continuous nudging on his left cheek. The sunlight came from the window on his right, which felt like a miracle after what happened last night.

  — Hey! Are you still sleeping? What a shame… C’mon, you lazy bum, wake up! — said a familiar feminine voice, almost whining beside Ilya. When he turned, a young woman sat beside him, appearingly around his age.

  The girl looked painfully ordinary at first glance. Average feminine height. Straight brown hair fell just past her shoulders, kept in place by a single, careful braid woven along the side of her head — neat, deliberate, almost disciplined. Her skin was pale enough that the base’s cold lights washed her in white, and her eyes held a warm amber tone that made it hard to tell whether she was serious or just pretending to be.

  — Where… am I? — Ilya managed to mutter, his voice dry and low, like he hadn’t drunk water in a day or two.

  The girl beside him looked up, interrupting her nudging and bringing her hand to her cheek, scratching it in deep thought.

  — Hm… how do I tell you without Claire ripping me to shreds… nevermind, it’s not like you’ll remember anyway. Let’s just say that you found something you were not supposed to. And here you are, being healed by me, because I’m just a stupid healer to Iris! — The girl whined, complaining, while Ilya just stared in confusion.

  — Not… supposed to? — Ilya repeated to himself, looking at the white blanket covering his torso and legs. — Hold on, what do you mean by—

  Before Ilya could finish his sentence, the girl touches his forehead with a finger. A blinding light almost made his head snap back, and when he opened his eyes again, a white glow swallowed the space around her, bright enough to burn the room’s edges from his vision. Long wings extended from her back, as clear as snow. Above her head, a floating light golden halo defied what Ilya believed his whole life.

  — Is this heaven? — Ilya asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. — Did I really die...?

  The angelic-looking girl laughed softly, reaching out and poking his left cheek again, then smiled at him.

  — What? Of course not, silly! — the girl let out another small chuckle, then leaned back, her wings curving forward. — You’re not dead, trust me. I’m Angela, the one who made sure your organs didn’t stay out in the streets last night. That was nasty…

  Angela made a disgusting face, sticking her tongue out playfully. Ilya stared at his own hands. Weirdly enough, they’re untouched, even though he clearly remembers his wrists being pinned down and almost ripped off.

  A clicking sound caught attention from both of them, and a relatively tall woman came inside, with a cloaked figure wearing a mask following her. The woman’s hair was long, as dark as a spruce log, flowing as she walked calmly towards Angela. A white coat-styled uniform suited for both combat and formality caught Ilya’s attention, and looked strangely familiar.

  — Angela, out. And don’t reveal your form to anyone, even if they’re marked for clearance. — the woman spoke with a firm, serious voice, leaving no room for disagreement. Ilya’s ears buzzed after hearing that voice, like it wasn’t the first time he heard it.

  Angela reluctantly stood up, muttering something inaudible under her breath. Her angelic traits — wings, halo and an unnatural glow — disappeared, while she walks to the door.

  — You’re no fun, Claire… — Angela said with a hint of disappointment, walking outside and turning, slowly closing the door. — No fun.

  The door closed with a small click, and the woman standing in front of Ilya, now properly addressed as Claire, took a seat where Angela was once seated.

  Claire brings a small clipboard, raising a pen to its half-filled sheet. She raised her look towards Ilya, her eyes sharp and narrow with authority.

  — I’ll make a few questions to confirm your consciousness, do you understand? — the woman asked. When Ilya slowly nodded his head, she confirmed and wrote something on the clipboard. — What’s your name?

  — Ilya. Ilya… Moren. — the boy replied, with slight hesitation.

  — What date are we on?

  — 427… Hakus. I don’t know which day of the month, though. I’d guess second or third. — Ilya replied, trying to force his memory, but nothing came.

  — That’s expected. Do you know where you are right now?

  — Yhan, in the city of Gaijin, and… — Ilya paused, looking at the window’s scenery. Skyscrapers rose around it, and he couldn’t see the streets. — High Ring, probably.

  The woman asserted, continuously writing on her clipboard.

  — How are you so sure we’re in Gaijin, “Ilya Moren”?

  — I’m not, but… if I woke up yesterday at night, and I was also attacked at night, you couldn’t have moved me to a big city so quickly. Tavaris is not that close, you know.

  The woman paused at the explanation, then wrote something down again.

  — At least you have some basic logical thinking. Now, what do you believe that attacked you? — she said, her tone lowering intentionally.

  Ilya paused, looking at his covered torso again, then back at the serious woman, who’s staring him intensely with her gray eyes.

  — A demon, maybe. It was black, and its eyes were… it’s like they were a pit to hell. — Ilya replied, his head aching as sharp memories travel across his brain.

  Claire shared a look with the masked individual. Whoever that other person was, they were slightly shorter than Claire, meanwhile their cloak covered every hint of skin. Soon enough, Claire spoke again, her voice bordering on muttering now.

  — The only thing you need to know is that you were attacked, we saved you, and you’ll return home without questions, do you get that?

  Ilya knew he had no option but to agree, and he did. The masked figure beside Claire raised their hand. Ilya’s brain shut off into unconsciousness once again.