To save a life, one must embrace the abyss. A brother's love faces a terrifying revelation.
An Ordinary Morning in a Broken World
Two days had passed since the transformation. These two days were strangely peaceful.
The sun climbed slowly over the jagged towers of Sector F. Its rays pierced through the tattered curtains of the apartment, tracing filaments of tired light through the dust. Kael woke with difficulty. His muscles, taut as bowstrings, protested every movement. He sat up and took a long breath. His body felt new. It was too light to be his own. It felt like a perfect instrument—fragile and dangerous at the same time.
He walked to the refrigerator. A hinge groaned as a yellowish light flickered on. Inside sat a single banana, two eggs, and an apple that was giving up the ghost.
"Liam, did you eat?" he called over his shoulder.
"No," a sleepy voice replied from the top bunk.
On top of him, Rhaziel had curled up like a black-and-red cat, his scales shimmering softly. He opened a lazy eye.
"So, Heir... what is the next part of your glorious plan?"
Kael peeled the banana without much energy. "Liam explained the System to me. To level up, I need quests."
Rhaziel yawned. "There are no predefined quests. Combat, blood, and survival. That is your schedule."
Kael remained pensive, chewing distractedly. "I haven't had a single mission since that dungeon... since them."
Silence followed, as heavy as the memory of the massacre.
Then, Liam's drowsy voice came from the bed: "What if you went to the Rift?"
Kael froze. "That's far too dangerous."
"What is the Rift?" Rhaziel asked, finally lifting his head.
The History of the Rift
Kael sighed. "They say that's where everything began."
He spoke slowly, pacing the cramped room. "Twenty-five years ago, the Rift appeared. It was a howling abyss. Creatures came out of it that no one could defeat. The authorities tried to seal it, but nothing worked. Then, fifty women—the very first Awakened—sacrificed their lives to confine the horror."
Rhaziel watched him in silence.
"They transformed the Rift into a tower. One hundred floors. Every level has more powerful monsters." He turned toward the grimy window. "Their magic saved the city. And the city of Valdris has forgotten them."
Rhaziel inhaled softly. "Then that is where you will go. You will climb. You will harden yourself."
"It's a slaughterhouse," Kael countered. "There's no supervision. It's full of desperate people who want to change their lives and end up in pieces."
Rhaziel sat up, his eyes burning with an ancient light. "You will go anyway. And you will return only when you reach level 20. That is an order."
Kael grit his teeth. "Then come with me."
"If you die," Rhaziel replied coldly, "the pact will vanish. I will vanish with it. There is no need for me to stop you." A silence passed. Then, a thin smile appeared. "But I will be there, within you. Always."
Liam climbed down from the bed, looking worried. "Are you leaving?"
Kael ruffled his hair. "I have to do this."
Rhaziel intervened: "I must speak to you alone."
The Road to the Rift
Kael stepped out into the dull light of Sector F. The air smelled of rust and dampness. The crumbling facades stared at him like scars.
"So, where are we going?"
"To the Rift. It's here, nearby."
"And these Sectors?"
Kael explained in a weary voice: "Sector 1 is for the royals. They are untouchable. Sector 2 is for the nobles. They have been rich forever. Sector 3 belongs to the Factions—the legendary hunters. Sector 4 is for those who managed to survive and prosper. Sector 5 is for the modest, the workers. People like us before. And Sector F..."
He pointed toward the grim alleyways. "...the world's refuse."
He kept moving, avoiding the stares of beggars and the fists of thugs. Here, one wrong step was enough to get you killed.
"Kael," Rhaziel said suddenly. "I want to talk to you about Liam."
Kael slowed down, suspicious. "What now?"
"He is not human."
The sentence fell like a guillotine blade. Kael stopped in his tracks. His heart hammered against his ribs. "That's impossible. He breathes the same air, he—"
"That is exactly what is killing him: pure mana. He rejects it. Because he is something else."
"No." His breath hitched. "You're lying."
"Your injections are keeping him alive. They purge the mana before it poisons him. Without them, he dies. But even with them, he is slowly wasting away."
Kael staggered, finding support against a wall black with filth. "Why him and not me?!"
"I don't know yet. But his limit is near. He has perhaps one month left."
The world seemed to crack inside Kael's skull. His hands shook. "No..."
"He can live, Kael. He needs dark mana. He needs monster blood."
"You want me to feed him... that?"
"If he reacts, I will know if he is lucid... or lost."
Kael clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. Blood trickled down. "And if he becomes a hungry demon?"
Rhaziel's silence weighed heavier than any answer.
Before the Rift
When Kael came to his senses, the tower stood before him. It was a column of shadow that swallowed the sky. It was a scar in reality.
A crowd swarmed around the entrance: jeering mercenaries, whispered prayers, empty stares. Kael saw none of it. He saw only his brother's shadow. He saw Liam's sickly smile and his pale blue eyes. He saw the specter of the truth.
Perhaps a demon. Perhaps a victim. But above all, he was his brother.
I will save him. I will fight this world. I will fight the gods.
His fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword. Before him lay one hundred floors of darkness. Behind him, there was a single heart to protect.
He stepped forward. Every step was a promise: blood, monsters, or salvation—the price did not matter.