The alley in Eldridge City reeked of wet asphalt and rotting garbage, a stark contrast to the Veil's ozone-charged air. Haruaki leaned against the wall, his chest heaving, the Gatekey in his pocket pulsing like a second heartbeat. The pain from his last fracture lingered—his joints ached, his skin felt too tight, as if he'd aged years in minutes. Rina stood guard at the alley's mouth, her staff glowing faintly, her eyes scanning the neon-lit street beyond. Yumi knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder, her dark eyes filled with worry. "You pushed too hard again," she said, her voice low but urgent. "You can't keep fracturing like that, Haruaki."
Kuro, perched on a rusted fire escape, cawed sharply. "Kid's got a death wish, I swear. You felt those wraiths, didn't you? That wasn't a random attack. Someone's sending a message."
Haruaki forced himself to stand, ignoring the tremor in his legs. "Message received," he muttered, his voice rough. The memory of the wraiths' sickly green eyes and their silent, gliding forms sent a shiver down his spine. They weren't like the Veilspawn—wild, animalistic. These were precise, deliberate, like assassins. And they'd come for him. For the Gatekey. "Who's sending them?" he asked, looking between Rina and Yumi. "Varyn?"
Rina's jaw tightened, her flames flickering along her staff. "Maybe. He's got the power, the connections. But wraiths? That's old magic, the kind the elite don't touch unless they're desperate—or scared."
Yumi's expression darkened. "It's not just Varyn. The Veil's breaking, Haruaki. Fractures like yours—they're tearing holes between worlds. Things are slipping through, things that shouldn't."
Before he could press her for answers, a scream cut through the night—not human, but something else, a sound that clawed at the edges of his mind. The neon signs along the street flickered, their colors bleeding into static, and the air grew heavy, like a storm about to break. Rina spun, her staff flaring. "Shit," she hissed. "They followed us."
Haruaki's heart pounded as he peered past her. The street was chaos—people running, cars swerving, their headlights catching glimpses of shapes that didn't belong. Shadows moved, too fast, too wrong, their forms flickering like broken holograms. Veilspawn, but not just one or two—a swarm, spilling out of alleys, crawling over buildings, their ember-like eyes glowing in the dark. A woman's scream cut off abruptly as a creature with too many limbs dragged her into the shadows.
"Move!" Rina shouted, her flames roaring to life, illuminating the alley in a blaze of orange. She charged toward the street, her staff swinging, sending a wave of fire that incinerated a Veilspawn mid-leap. Haruaki stumbled after her, the Gatekey burning in his pocket, its pulse syncing with the chaos around him. Yumi grabbed his arm, her grip bruising. "Stay close," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
The street was a warzone. Veilspawn tore through Eldridge City, their claws ripping through metal and flesh alike. A man in a suit—probably some corporate hotshot from Crimson Towers—screamed as a creature pinned him against a luxury car, its teeth sinking into his shoulder. Haruaki's stomach churned, but he couldn't look away. This wasn't the Veil—this was his city, the real world, and it was falling apart.
Rina fought like a force of nature, her flames carving paths through the swarm. "Haruaki!" she yelled, dodging a Veilspawn's claws. "You need to seal the fracture! It's the only way to stop them!"
"Seal it?" he shouted back, ducking as a creature lunged past him, its screech splitting the air. "How the hell do I do that?"
"Feel the current!" Rina's voice was sharp, her flames flaring brighter. "The Veil's pulse—it's here, in the real world. Find it, pull it closed!"
Haruaki's chest tightened, the memory of his last fracture—the pain, the aging—flashing through him. But the screams, the blood, the chaos—they were too much. He closed his eyes, reaching for the Veil's rhythm, that jagged pulse he'd felt in training. It was there, faint but growing, like a crack in reality's foundation. He grabbed it, his mind straining, and the world slowed—not just his perception, but everything. The Veilspawn froze mid-motion, Rina's flames hung like sculptures, and Yumi's shout was a low, drawn-out hum.
Pain seared through him, worse than before, like his bones were splintering. His vision blurred, and he felt it again—that slipping, his body aging, his life draining. But he held on, searching for the fracture, the tear letting these monsters through. It was there, a shimmering rift above the street, pulsing with the same gold as the Gatekey. He reached for it, not with his hands but with his will, pulling the threads of time together like stitching a wound.
The rift flickered, shrinking, but the pain was unbearable. His knees buckled, and he would've fallen if Yumi hadn't caught him, her arms strong despite her slight frame. "Haruaki, stop!" she shouted, her voice breaking through the slowed world. "You're killing yourself!"
"Not yet," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. He pushed harder, the rift closing inch by inch, the Veilspawn starting to dissolve, their forms fading like smoke. But his body screamed, his skin tightening, his breath shallow. He was losing himself, years slipping away, but he couldn't stop—not with the city burning.
Rina's flames surged, clearing a path as the last of the Veilspawn vanished. The rift snapped shut, and time crashed back, the world speeding up with a jolt. Haruaki collapsed, Yumi holding him upright, his vision swimming. His hands looked wrong—thinner, the veins more pronounced, like an old man's. He touched his face, feeling lines that hadn't been there before.
"You did it," Rina said, her voice rough as she lowered her staff. The street was quiet now, littered with debris and blood, but the Veilspawn were gone. "Stupid, but you did it."
Kuro swooped down, landing on a wrecked car. "Barely," he cawed, his golden eyes glinting. "You're lucky you didn't turn to dust, kid. That was reckless."
Yumi's grip tightened, her eyes fierce. "He shouldn't have had to do it at all. The fractures are getting worse, Rina. This wasn't random—it's the Veil breaking, just like I said."
Haruaki's head throbbed, his body heavy with exhaustion. "Why's it breaking?" he asked, his voice weak. "What's doing this?"
Yumi hesitated, her eyes flicking to the ground. "It's not just you," she said finally. "The elite—people like Varyn—they're pushing the Veil's limits. They're after the Gatekeys, all of them. They think they can control the fractures, use them to reshape both worlds."
Rina's expression darkened. "And let monsters like that through? They're insane."
"Or desperate," Yumi said, her voice low. "They're not the only ones watching. Something older, something worse—it's waking up. I've seen it, in the deep Veil."
Haruaki's hand closed around the Gatekey, its warmth grounding him. The elite, the fractures, the monsters—it was all connected, and he was at the center. He thought of Crimson Towers, of the super rich who lived above the city's grime, and now of the Veil's aristocracy, their wealth measured in magic and power. They were playing a game he didn't understand, and he was their pawn—or their prize.
"We need to move," Rina said, scanning the street. Sirens wailed in the distance, Eldridge City's police finally catching up to the chaos. "The elite'll know about this. We can't stay here."
Yumi helped Haruaki stand, her touch gentle but firm. "You need rest," she said, her voice soft. "But you also need answers. I… I'll tell you what I can, but not here."
Haruaki nodded, though his body screamed in protest. The city around him felt fragile, like it could crack open again at any moment. The Gatekey pulsed, and he felt the Veil's rhythm still, faint but ever-present. He was Fractureborn, caught between worlds, and the fight was only beginning.