"You're lucky… luckier than you deserve. But do you know the problem?" He smiled, then continued, "Luck doesn't last. It runs out—suddenly. You could've been in his place right now… a lifeless corpse rotting in the shadows. But you… you're still alive."
In that moment, Kayden felt the air itself grow heavier, as if the room had shrunk to contain only the two of them… and as if Adam's fingers on the weapon were anything but a casual motion.
"Oh… but he's still alive," Kayden said with a dry smile, nodding toward Ethan, as though throwing the words like an arrow just to rid himself of the weight of Adam's stare.
Adam slowly turned to Ethan, his eyes scrutinizing him.
"Oh… that's true. But not for long," Adam whispered, his tone steeped in cold sarcasm.
Then he turned back to Kayden. His smile didn't change—but it grew more toxic as he added,
"Remember this… nothing works the way it should here. Everything is chaotic. Strange. And the one who's still alive… isn't always the lucky one."
"You're the perfect example of bad luck," Kayden muttered, then glanced at Ethan.
Kayden heard the sound of metal shifting. Adam was preparing his weapon—he was actually going to kill Ethan.
On the other side, Ethan sat still for a moment, then… as if consciousness abandoned him, his body began to shake. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for salvation. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and screamed, his voice torn and raw.
"Kill me!!"
"I want to die as a human—please… bury me in my family's graves… please!"
Ethan clung to the last fragments of his awareness, pleading as he struggled to force out an address.
"I heard… their next target… a powerful woman… she's—"
His words broke apart, as if his mouth no longer obeyed him.
Ethan completely lost control. His body convulsed as though something unnatural were pulling at him from the inside. He bolted out of the warehouse, his steps erratic, as if he were no longer master of himself.
Adam turned slowly. There was no surprise on his face, as if everything unfolding was merely an expected detail. He pulled a pistol from inside his coat and extended it toward Kayden with a calm smile—one disturbingly gentle, utterly out of place.
"Kill him."
Kayden froze. His fingers didn't dare touch the weapon. His voice came out with difficulty.
"Me?"
Adam raised an eyebrow slightly, his gaze drifting away as if bored by the repetition of the obvious.
"Do you see anyone else here? Go on… finish him. I have enough matters waiting for me."
Kayden swallowed hard. His eyes searched for an escape and settled for a moment on Ayrton—but the latter was already moving, chasing after Ethan with swift steps. He turned back and motioned sharply.
"Come with me—now!"
Adam stayed where he was for a moment longer… then finally moved, his steps steady.
Outside, the struggle had already begun. Ethan fought with desperate violence, his eyes lost somewhere between madness and fear. In a moment of pure chaos, Kayden found himself on top of him, his hand pressing down hard against Ethan's body. The movement was purely instinctive… but it was enough to pin him to the ground.
"Ayrton, when did you become so gentle? That's terribly unfair. That's not a proper teaching method… since when do we learn with words? Be a good teacher—don't do this," Adam muttered with a fleeting smile as he watched the chaos unfold. He slowly raised his rifle, prepared it for sniping, then shouted loudly, his voice tearing through the air,
"You need to become a man!"
Kayden's heart lurched violently. He looked at the ground for a moment, trying to ignore the crushing weight on his chest… then noticed something gleaming near his feet.
It was a bullet.
'Adam… he's preparing to snipe… He wants me to pull the trigger!'
Seconds later, another shot rang out, passing so close to his right foot that he felt the heat of the metal scorch his skin. One step—just one—and it would have hit him.
He gasped hoarsely, muttering words that barely escaped his throat.
"He's… he's forcing me to kill you!"
His hand shook violently, his grip barely holding the gun. His breathing was erratic, his vision flickering, unable to focus.
'I've never killed anyone before…'
Ayrton stepped closer, his movements steady amid the madness. His voice cut through Kayden's panic, imposing itself.
"Kayden. Look at me."
Kayden slowly lifted his head. Ayrton's face was close now—his features stern, as if mercy did not exist.
"Adam isn't teaching you cruelty," he said. "He's teaching you how to survive. Don't be afraid." He paused, then sharply pointed toward Ethan's broken form on the ground, his voice hardening.
"Ethan isn't just fighting death… he's fighting catastrophe. These entities don't think. They don't negotiate. They don't stop. They only destroy. And the more you kill, the stronger they become! You don't even understand the structure of catastrophes yet."
Kayden froze. His gaze dropped to the trembling pistol in his hand, then to Ethan lying before him. A question screamed inside his head, unanswered.
'Can I really pull the trigger?'
But Ayrton's voice shattered his hesitation, cutting off every trace of mercy.
"He's no longer human, Kayden!"
He hesitated… Kayden's finger trembled over the trigger. Then another shot rang out—this one tearing through the air beside his ear, so close he felt its heat scorch his skin.
Everything froze. Even the sounds died out suddenly, as if the world itself were holding its breath with him.
He slowly lifted his head and saw Adam advancing toward him with confident steps, his eyes veiled in unreadable shadows.
"Didn't I tell you to kill him?" Adam spoke in a low, heavy voice—like a final verdict that allowed no argument.
The pistol rose between Kayden's hands with agonizing slowness, as if it weighed more than his entire body. He aimed it at Ethan's head—Ethan, who was crawling across the ground like a wounded animal. There was nothing human left in him… nothing except his pleading eyes, reflecting a mute cry for salvation, and his mouth, whispering in broken surrender,
"Please… kill me."
Kayden squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
The scream erupted inside his chest before escaping his lips, tearing through his inner silence. Ethan's body convulsed for a brief moment—then went completely still. Blood seeped slowly across the cold ground, its stench flooding the space like a brutal declaration that everything was over.
The catastrophe had ended… and with it, a part of Kayden ended as well.
Ayrton approached quietly and placed a hand on his shoulder—a heavy touch carrying both consolation and command.
"You made the right choice. This is part of our work… and you must learn to get used to it."
But Kayden didn't respond. He felt nothing—not the weight of his arm, not the sharpness of Ayrton's gaze, not even the pounding in his chest. All that remained was an inner silence gnawing at his soul, and a sharp knot lodged deep inside him with no release.
He didn't even notice when several soldiers arrived and lifted Ethan's body with an eerie firmness, as if carrying something that might explode at any moment.
Inside the vehicle, his hoarse voice barely escaped—like a broken blade scraping stone.
"Where… will he be taken?"
The answer came from Ayrton, mercilessly cold.
"To your brother."
No explanation was needed. Kayden understood perfectly what would happen next—and what his brother's name truly meant when spoken.
He sat beside Adam inside the vehicle, staring into nothingness, wishing he could be anywhere else… but cursed with enough bad luck to be here, right next to Adam.
Adam sighed slowly, then turned toward him.
"Why the sad face? He was doomed the moment we met him. You'll learn… you'll get used to seeing the worst. And if you stay foolish, you'll die like a fool."
He then gestured toward Kayden's hand, still trembling slightly from the recoil.
"You held the weapon well. Just remember… don't put your emotions into your work. Save them for your family—not for your enemy."
Kayden lifted his eyes. They were reddened with restrained fury. His voice came out with difficulty, like a bleeding wound.
"I just… felt terrified. Because of you."
Adam reached out and patted his head lightly—a gesture laced with condescension.
"You're a grown man now. Don't forget… your weapon is your only true companion, so keep it by your side at all times. Your emotions are only for your family."
When the vehicle stopped and everyone disembarked, Fiona approached him with quiet steps, her gaze balancing tenderness and caution.
She spoke softly, gently, almost soothing.
"Wash your face… or take a shower. Your shoes are stained with blood. Kayden… don't contaminate the place."
He gave her a faint smile that barely formed and said,
"Take good care of Henry… until I'm done."
He left her behind and headed inside.
He entered the bathroom and shut the door tightly. For a moment, he stood before the sink, water glimmering in his eyes—yet he didn't touch it.
Then suddenly, he grabbed his head with both hands, as if the pain inside him were unbearable—not the pain of flesh, but something heavier than bone and blood.
Kayden washed his face harshly.
Then Colton appeared before him all at once, as if emerging from the depths of the mirror itself—wearing a crooked, mocking smile that carried a trace of respect beneath it.
"My great lord Kayden, I salute you." His voice echoed through the space, as though the bathroom itself had answered him.
"You made the correct decision. In your world, it may seem like a cruel test… but here, it is the highest choice."
Kayden slowly raised his head, his eyes burning red from the water, and asked in a doubtful voice,
"Really?"
Colton replied with a firm nod, devoid of his usual hesitation.
Kayden continued,
"In my world… the killer is killed; everything has a price. But don't worry… that price preserves order."
Colton knelt before him in silence, as if offering his loyalty to a dark god, then whispered,
"And you… have just preserved it. That is why you must learn to get used to blood."
In the blink of an eye… he vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving behind nothing but the echo of his words, weighing heavily against the walls of Kayden's mind.
Kayden washed his face, then carefully wiped his shoes, as if trying to erase more than just blood. He reached for his handkerchief… and didn't find it.
He let out a long sigh, one that blended relief with exhaustion, then opened the door and stepped out, searching for Henry.
It wasn't long before Kayden found himself standing beside Henry, closely observing the dissection of Ethan's body. Adam, Ayrton, and Fiona were spread across the room, silent.
The corpse laid out on the table was more than just a lifeless body; its coldness carried a thousand unasked questions—and others no one dared to answer.
Fear crept into Kayden's chest—fear for his brother—as though every heartbeat wavered between terror and guilt. The place felt like an examination hall, and he was the student forced to give an impromptu presentation before a council of unforgiving professors. Every eye watched him. Every movement was under scrutiny. As though he were being tested—on his patience, his control, on the humanity that was slowly slipping away.
"Kayden, come here." Ayrton called, his voice low but edged with command. Kayden followed with cautious steps toward the table. He looked at Ethan's body—the heart's position, the stretched veins, every cold truth uncovered by doctors and warriors alike.
Ethan's feet were completely black.
Henry muttered as he scribbled notes onto paper, his voice low and filled with curiosity.
"Why are his feet black?"
"Adam, didn't you say before that the catastrophe takes control of the feet first?" Henry asked, his eyes darting between the corpse and his notebook, trying to extract answers from the smallest details.
Adam replied without lifting his gaze.
"Yes."
Henry paused for a moment, recalling Colton's words—Colton, who for him was an unquestionable reference. But Colton wasn't here to ask, and in his absence, Henry was left with only two options: guessing… or questioning.
"Then why doesn't it start with the mouth?" Henry continued. His tone sounded curious, but in truth, he was testing every hypothesis that crossed his mind.
Fiona answered calmly, as though reading truth between the lines.