"Just kill yourself already."
A voice echoed from the mouth of the alley.
Ater lay on his side in a puddle of rainwater and black bile, struggling to move. Above him the long-broken security light flickered sporadically. The weak yellow light lit the same few things.
Rotting bricks.
Overflowing bins in puddles of still water.
The peeling World Monarchy Propaganda poster.
And the pale figure crouched beside him with a sardonic smirk.
The figure had Ater's face.
Not exactly.
Skin that was deathly pale. Chapped lips that were beyond saving. And eyes that were simply two obsidian orbs decorated with pinprick white dots for pupils. When it smiled, two rows of teeth, the colour of pitch, showed beneath the skin.
It tilted its head.
"You're going to die anyway," it continued. "You'd make it a lot easier on everyone else if you just grab that shard of glass and end it already."
Ater tried to answer.
His lungs seized.
Moments later, a sticky rank tar-like substance spilled from his mouth and onto the puddle below. The smell hit him a second later; metallic, foul and sweet enough to make his eyes water.
The figure recoiled as its expression contorted with exaggerated disgust.
"Couldn't you at least aim for the drain?"
Ater wiped the black off his lip with the back of his hand. His fingers trembled as they left a dark smear from his lips and across his cheek.
"S-Shut up…"
"S-Shut up!"
The figure mocked as its voice distorted into something between a child's laugh and a scream. The laugh that followed threatened to scrape away whatever was left of his sanity. It was something he'd grown used to hearing, it'd been tailing him ever since he'd been infected—it didn't take Ater long to realise only he could see it.
It didn't stop there.
"I mean look at you! You're practically turning into me, and that's saying something."
Paying no mind to its words, Ater rolled away from the puddle of bile attempting to push himself upright but his emaciated arms buckled under his weight.
Once again he was laying in a puddle of his filth.
The figure remarked with theatrical revulsion.
"Jeez… Don't you have any dignity, self-respect even?! I know you grew up in this shithole but you really want to be one with it before you go huh?" It walked over to a pile of shattered alcohol bottles and gestured to a green bottle top with a jagged end. "It's right here! Just pick it up and aim for the neck and it'll be over."
It watched as Ater tuned its voice out, gritting his teeth as he tried to sit upright against a wheelie bin. The figure scowled before crouching next to him.
"Who the hell do you think you are?..." It tilted its head to the side. "Someone special? A hero? An underdog? No Ater… you're none of those things."
Shaking his head, Ater pushed himself off the ground once more. This time, his back struck the plastic, and he slumped against it, breathing through clenched teeth.
He met its obsidian gaze with his grey eyes.
"Tell me something I don't know, asshole."
It rolled its eyes as those grey eyes still hadn't wavered.
"Oh my goodness… Do you even hear yourself?" It pointed to the inky veins splintering across Ater's neck. "Something you don't know, how about this?"
Leaning closer, its smile widened.
"It's getting worse."
Ater's face didn't react much except the twitch of his eye.
It had only reached his collarbone yesterday but now almost his jaw.
"I know."
"And you're too late to do anything about it."
He went stiff like a board, clenching his jaw hard enough it hurt.
Too late…
The words carried the weight of something he couldn't ignore anymore.
The figure noticed.
"Hehe… you missed your one chance outta here." In return it received Ater's empty gaze. "Most people Awaken before it gets this bad. You didn't…"
It tilted its head.
"But…" It grinned as Ater's nostrils flared. "There's one small problem with that."
A pregnant pause settled between the two of them as the figure turned to look at the broken bottle top.
"If you survive… You Awaken."
It looked back at him to whisper.
"Late-bloomer… That's what they'll call you, like you're something special."
For the first time, its smile disappeared.
"Assuming you survive."
Ater looked away, leaning his head against the hard plastic. His eyes resting on the sight of the full moon hanging in the starless sky above him.
He knew what would happen if he didn't survive.
Thrall.
He would die.
His body wouldn't.
When that happened, Awakened from World Monarchy would put him down like a dog.
"That's your master plan, isn't it?" The apparition continued, its upper lip curling. "Hang on just long enough that you become something the world decided you were never supposed to be."
Ater slowly raised his head.
"I'll survive."
The apparition stared at him.
Then it laughed.
Ater didn't care. Biting the inside of his cheek he spat hard enough for black flecks to spray out of his mouth.
"I'll Awaken."
Holding onto the wheelie bin, Ater barely managed to pull himself up. When he did he had to stop just so his knees stopped wobbling. When he tried walking, the figure strutted alongside him.
"Awaken? You? Please don't actually make me laugh." It moved ahead of Ater, walking backwards just so he could look him in the face. "You're an unwanted orphan who can't even remember what mommy and daddy looked like. You're a fool, that I can tell you."
It rooted itself to the ground and stood like an insurmountable wall, uttering slowly.
"A Fool."
On cue Ater's knees gave out as he crashed back onto the wet concrete with a stifled cry—toppling the delicate pile of broken glass bottles. It towered over him as he strained to meet its gaze.
"Your body is going to shut down and you will become a thrall. You are going to die a dog's death so please, for your sake, get it over with already."
It inhaled sharply.
"I know best, of course I do. After all, I'm you…" It smiled. "So please…"
A small eerie smile stretched its chapped pale lips. Its voice was unnaturally upbeat as its obsidian eyes drifted to the green bottle top with the broken end that rolled towards Ater.
"Just kill yourself." It gestured to the bottle. "See, it agrees with me."
Ater gazed at his own reflection on the withered green surface.
His skin was now a pale shade, cheeks sunken and his jet black hair matted with sweat and grime.
The chill of the puddle below him seeped into him through the thin fabric of his clothes. In the distance, the cries of sirens could be heard—growing louder with each passing second.
Looking away, the figure raised its brows.
"Wow, they came for you quicker than I thought. You must radiate a lot more Essence than the average Awakening…" Glancing back at Ater it grinned. "Never mind that…. I don't think you'll be you by the time they arrive."
Ater wasn't hearing any of it. He stared at his deteriorating reflection with eyes that seemed to have lost what little light it had. At the mouth of the alley, people walked past going about their days.
Probably getting off work.
Coming home from cram school.
Maybe going out for drinks.
They didn't notice him. If they did, they walked on by with an expression of false sympathy.
For a moment, a dangerous fragile moment, the jagged end looked quite enticing.
'Maybe this is it?...'
It would only take one swift motion to be released from this poor excuse of a life. He just wanted peace. His hand didn't stop twitching, whether it was due to the Miasma or the self-deprecating desire to grab that bottle top—Ater didn't know.
His nose twitched, then his brows furrowed.
'What's that smell… Jasmine?'
The figure stood watching him, it also noticed the change in Ater's demeanour. For a moment it really thought he was going to do it.
Standing in anticipation, it didn't know what to say for the first time. It simply kept watching with those obsidian eyes.
Something changed in his eyes and Ater grabbed the bottle. That jasmine. Faint, warm, impossible in a place like this. Nobody was coming for him. Nobody would grieve for him. Then nobody got to decide this but him.
He gripped it as hard as he could.
The figure smiled.
"Finally—."
The sound of glass shattering cut it off. It blinked for a few seconds before processing Ater's bleeding mangled hand. Defiant grey eyes met its obsidian as its smile faded away.
"You son of a bitch…"
Before Ater could flip it off, blood drained from his face upon realisation.
'I-I… I can't breathe!'
His lungs desperately tried to expand.
Yet it felt as if his trachea had constricted. A betrayal of his very flesh.
The corners of the figure's lips twitched. There were more twitches until a new smile spread across its face.
It looked genuine.
Its eyes crinkled.
The corners of its cheeks too.
It moved to sit cross-legged as Ater's skin mottled into a shade of purple. The sounds of breathing rotted into something that had forgotten how to respire.
"It's starting…"
Just as that final syllable rolled off its tongue.
Ater looked up with an unreadable expression.
Just then a viscous inky substance spilled from his nose, dripping onto his shirt.
Leaning in, the figure was entranced by the scene of Ater withering away. A breath escaped it.
"And thus... The bud has been nipped."
The white in Ater's eyes blackened, swallowing the grey.
That same viscous ink welled against his eyes.
It streamed down his cheeks as the strings had been cut, he collapsed with a thud.
All that followed was one raspy wheeze.
Not once did the figure blink.
It didn't smile.
It didn't speak.
It didn't even pretend to breathe.
"...wait for it."
The words left its parted lips so faintly, that it was as if it barely spoke. Those pale white dots for pupils were trained on Ater's limp form.
Soon, its patience was rewarded.
The inky veins along Ater's neck splintered in innumerable directions. The filth branched out, connected with others and encompassed his form like a cocoon.
Muscles twitched autonomously.
His spine arched impossibly.
His legs stuttered, slamming his feet against concrete.
Then his arms.
Joints popped.
"Yes… yes… yes…"
It bit its lip enough to pierce his own flesh. There was no blood.
Its hands jittered in uncontrollable excitement as Ater changed into something inhuman. The figure's breaths grew quicker as more joints began to bend in unnatural angles.
It almost moaned when a sickening wet sound seeped out of Ater's maw.
"Finally! You've almost turned. You bastard, you should've killed yourself when you had the chance!"
The figure leaning, touching its forehead with Ater's or whatever it was.
"I'll join hell with you… after we're one."
It locked eyes with Ater.
"Now let's die a dog's—what?!"
The figure blinked, the smile gone.
"W-What?... It can't be…"
All that excitement that'd been boiling within it died. Then he looked up at Ater.
Those fetid veins cocooning him had dissolved. The abyss in his eyes had melted away.
Only a luminous glow remained.
The figure backed away in disbelief.
"N-no way!"
Those black eyes widened impossibly as he watched all those disjointed limbs pop back into place. As vitality flooded Ater's pale skin, restoring his normal tanned complexion.
A seething growl escaped the figure. Its hands trembled, not with excitement, now it shuddered with unbridled disgust and rage.
"I was so close…"
The words spilled like acid.
Its fingertips started to dissolve into a mist.
Ater was not going to die.
The figure's eyes went half-lidded at the realization.
"Once again… you've lucked out."
Tilting its head up, it watched as Ater's body was restored to full health. His body glowing angelically as if expelling the filth that had contaminated his vessel.
It lost.
Its form faintly flickered, it was fading.
With its remaining strength, the figure let out a mirthless chuckle.
"There'll always be a next time… I only need to get lucky once."
In a brilliant display, the figure's form dissolved into millions of white spores. All of them deteriorating into nothingness as Ater's body once again fell limp against the ground.
The sirens were closer.
A series of heavy footsteps stormed the alleyway.
Five men dressed in all-black combat gear stormed in with rifles and shotguns.
"Source of Essence signature identified!"
A hand pressed against his neck. Cold fingers, then a pause.
"Faint pulse. Veins are clear."
"Has he turned?"
"No. Eyes are closed. I think he's Awakened."
"Then it's Extraction. Keep him covered anyway. If anything crawls out of him, you know the protocol."
***
Ater struggled to process the sight before him.
He was in a different world.
The world was cast in darkness.
There was nothing in it but him.
That was until a bright light manifested before him.
It took on the silhouette of a tall woman.
He couldn't make out her features due to the light but he could tell she was looking at him intently.
Just then the scent of jasmine started to overwhelm him.
A soft and gentle voice escaped the silhouette, reaching his ears.
"Efforts will never betray you."
Once the last word left her, her form disintegrated as the darkness consumed whatever light remained.
Then before he could even make sense of it all, Before he could make sense of it, a second voice wrote itself across his mind, so soft and gentle it might have been an angel's.
[Welcome Ater!]