At dawn, the airport was shrouded in a thin veil of mist, hanging over the runway. The transport plane descended slowly, its engines rumbling heavily. When the ramp opened, a sharp, cold wind hit them, carrying the scent of foreign dust and burning residue.
Ethan inhaled deeply, squinting against the wind."Hmm… a hint of burnt smell in the air, and a trace of coffee grounds. Very European flair."
Karl rolled his eyes from behind him."That's called industrial pollution."
Ethan shrugged, stepping down the ramp with his gear, his shoes crunching on the hard concrete. A strange thrill ran through him.It wasn't his first time on human soil—he had returned home before, attended funerals—but then he had been an observer, a wandering spirit.This time, he returned as an investigator, armed with weapons, a mission, and a heap of unspeakable secrets.
Outside the airport, the area was swarming with military forces. Black armored vehicles lined the tarmac, soldiers fully armed, their eyes coldly scanning the arriving agents.The Investigations Bureau insignias glinted in the sunlight, but the soldiers' gaze held no respect—only vigilance.
A man in a gray trench coat stepped forward, voice low and steady:"Welcome to the real world, friends of the Investigations Bureau. This is a French government-controlled zone. I am Renault, your temporary liaison."
Ethan grinned and extended his hand."Hello, Renault. Your welcome ceremony is fancier than I imagined. I was expecting a red carpet and champagne."
Renault gave him a flat look, didn't shake his hand, and turned to walk away."Follow me."
Karl whispered a warning, "Don't provoke them. They clearly don't like us."
Ethan shrugged."Perfect, I don't like airport café prices either. Balance restored."
They were ushered into an enclosed military vehicle. Outside the window, Paris streets flashed by. Unlike the usual impression, the city was cloaked in gloom. Most shops were closed, pedestrians sparse, distant alarms occasionally piercing the air.
Renault opened a folder, tone icy:"Last night, another 142 people fell into deep sleep, concentrated in western Paris. Our doctors and scientists are powerless. Now, you are responsible for finding the cause."
Ethan raised an eyebrow."Sounds like you hired firefighters to put out a blaze and handed us a bucket of gasoline instead."
Renault's gaze hardened."This is French soil. You are merely guests here."
The atmosphere stiffened instantly.
Karl interjected, trying to ease the tension:"We'll investigate the source. But we need full operational freedom, or efficiency will drop."
Renault was silent for a few seconds, then muttered:"Do not overstep."
The military vehicle stopped in a residential area in the western suburbs. The streets were empty, only wind stirring fallen leaves. Behind tightly closed doors and windows, faint lights glowed, yet all was eerily silent.
Ethan pushed open a slightly ajar door and entered a living room. On the couch, a family of three curled together, seemingly asleep at the same moment. Their breathing was even, but no calls could rouse them.
The clock on the wall had stopped at 3 a.m.
"Their time… is trapped," Karl murmured.
Ethan gently pushed aside a puddle of black liquid on the table. It wriggled slightly, as if alive."Looks like the Nightmare energy isn't just spreading—it's learning to 'turn off the lights on schedule.' The host must have a sense of humor."
A sudden chill crawled over him, like someone was watching from behind. He spun around—nothing but an empty hallway.
As night deepened, the air in the residential block began to warp. Rooflines blurred, streets rippled like water, as if another world was overlapping reality.
Whispers entered Ethan's mind, countless unfamiliar voices murmuring:"Key… open… devour…"
He grinned."Looks like their broadcast signal is more punctual than the Paris metro."
Suddenly, the ground cracked, and a creature formed from black mist crawled out, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. It roared, lunging at Ethan and Karl.
Karl raised his gun immediately, bullets tearing through the mist, but unable to truly harm it.
Ethan gripped the Residue Cleaver in one hand, the Bureau-issued Nightmare Disruptor in the other, and quipped:"Welcome to the opening ceremony of reality investigations. Sorry, no admission fee—but we do collect souls."
The blade cut through the creature. It let out a piercing wail as the mist shattered, fragments scattering through the air.
After the battle, Karl panted, face grave."This is no longer a simple contagion. The Nightmare is setting up camp in reality."
Ethan gazed at the distant, murky sky and muttered:"Then we're the demolition crew. Hope there's overtime pay for this job."