"ALERT! ALERT! A nascent fracture has occurred! Citizens are to head to the evacuation center before a crack occurs. I repeat, citizens..."
Sirens howled into whole songs, drowning the agitated chatter of the people rushing toward the evacuation centers.
Dusk dragged his not-so-skeletal body across the bustling road, ignoring the pitiful, curious stares that followed him. He stood out like a sore thumb, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He stopped walking when he reached the door of an archean, time-worn building, adorned with cracks and splinters.
The bell chimed as he pushed the door open.
"We're closing now, come again" muttered an old man absentmindedly, standing behind the counter, staring into the air.
"It's me, Hans," Dusk uttered, his throat rasping.
Hans's eyes widened as he turned around, his beady brown pupils locking with Dusk's.
"Kid, you're still alive?" he gasped.
Dusk opened his mouth to answer, but Hans cut him off.
"What are you doing here, brat? Go evacuate! Didn't you hear the sirens?" Hans scolded, his wrinkles deepening as he frowned.
Dusk chuckled dryly.
"Look at me — sunken cheeks, ragged clothes, skin pale as a ghost. They'll think I'm carrying a plague. they let me in. So what's the point?"
His voice was hoarse, brittle.
Hans stared at him somberly, what am I supposed to do with this kid, he thought, massaging his brow.
"So what do you want then?" he asked.
"And no, I won't adopt you or your sister. I've rejected you enough times already, and I'll do it again."
Dusk sneered in defiance.
"Is death catching up to you, old man? Hallucinating maybe? I asked you to take my sister, but for me? You're not good enough."
"Rude brat!" Hans spat. "Can't believe a sweet girl like her had a brother like you. I should've taken her in and left you to starve."
"Regretting your choices now?" Dusk's lips curved into a thin, solemn smile. "Too late. She's dead."
Hans froze. "Dead? The hell… what happened?"
Dusk bit his lip. "Not something you should know."
Silence lingered — only Dusk's frail breathing filled the air — until Hans spoke again.
"Sorry, kid. Must've been hard."
"Yeah, it was," Dusk sighed. "Anyway, give me a bottle of water."
He pulled a single Zein from his pocket — barely worth half a dollar.
Hans squinted. "Where'd you get that?"
"I borrowed it," Dusk said flatly, placing it on the counter.
Hans sighed under his breath, probably stole it, before taking a bottle from the shelf and tossing it to him.
Dusk caught it and drank greedily, water spilling down his chin, pooling at his feet. He didn't care — it was as if he hadn't tasted water in years.
Hans lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around his face. "Now tell me the real reason you came here."
Dusk swallowed the last gulp, set the bottle down, and exhaled.
"I'm going to challenge a fracture," he said quietly, his face grim.
Hans stared for a long moment, his mouth twitching — then broke into a laugh.
"Ha… ha… ha… HAHAHA! You? Challenge a fracture? Have you lost your damn mind? Even nobles — even guilds with equipment and sponsors — fail miserably! And you, a slum rat? Ha! You'd die before taking a single step!"
"Whether it's in the slums or in a fracture, I'll die anyway," Dusk murmured, his faint smile heavy with despair.
Hans sighed, massaging his temples. "Fractures are guarded by police, kid. How do you even plan to get in?"
"I have my ways. Just tell me what you know."
Hans flicked his cigarette's ash to the ground. "Fine. Listen carefully."
"Fractures are classified from Category One to Nine. You can only challenge a Category One — a nascent fracture — if you want to awaken. Anything higher, and you'll die… or worse, your soul will be shredded, and you'll die again."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"When you enter, there's a chance you'll awaken an innate ability. But that's pure luck. Otherwise, you're dead. So pray to whatever god you've got. If you do awaken, you can check your stats — your ability, your condition — through something called a status window. Just say 'status' aloud, and it'll appear."
Hans took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the dim air.
"If you see anything strange — anything that feels out of place — go toward it. Could be your way out. That's all I know."
"Speaking from experience?" Dusk asked, a small smirk playing at his lips.
"Coaches don't play, kid," Hans muttered.
"Thanks," Dusk said, standing. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he limped toward the door and disappeared into the rain.
Hans watched him go, eyes dim but thoughtful.
"He really meant it, huh? Crazy kid." He smiled faintly, leaning back in his chair. "Hope he survives," he whispered, an eerie curve on his lips.
Outside, the world distorted.
A black crack hovered in the air, humming with an ominous energy. Space bent and twisted around it, reality thinning until color itself seemed to bleed away — swallowed by the hungry fracture.
A group of police guarded it, their chatter muffled beneath the storm.
Dusk's bare feet sloshed through puddles as he approached, his amethyst eyes gleaming under his dark bangs.
One of the officers noticed him. "Hey, kid!" he barked. "This isn't a playground! Turn around before you break something!"
The others chuckled.
Dusk's dry, hoarse voice cut through the rain. "I want to go in."
He pointed at the fracture.
Laughter erupted.
"What a weirdo," one said. "You'd last half a breath in there. Go play somewhere else."
Then another officer squinted. "Wait — isn't that the kid whose father we ruined last month?"
"Yeah, that's him," another sneered. "Poor brat — your father was an idiot just like you! Can't believe he thought he'd win that bet."
Their laughter swelled, ugly and cruel. "Lost every coin he had — and the debt collectors did the rest."
Dusk said nothing. His hands trembled — not with fear, but with something colder.
"Where's your father now, huh? Probably killed himself, right?"
The officer leaned down, mocking him, his voice dripping poison.
Still, Dusk stayed silent.
"Oh, not talking? You dead already?" The man jabbed his finger against Dusk's forehead.
Dusk bit down. Hard.
The officer yanked his hand back, face twisting with pain and rage.
"You little bastard!" he roared, grabbing Dusk by the throat. "You want to join your father so bad? Fine!"
With a violent motion, he hurled Dusk onto the ground. Blood filled Dusk's mouth as he coughed.
"Go follow him then," the officer hissed darkly — and kicked him into the fracture.
"Are you insane?! He'll die!" one of the others shouted.
"Shut up!" the man barked, his voice shaking with fury… and a trace of guilt. "You didn't stop me either!"
He turned away, muttering to himself, At least he'll reunite with his father.
Their voices faded.
Darkness swallowed Dusk whole. His body fell weightless, consciousness slipping away.
And for the first time, he didn't feel the cold.