"Bro, did you watch that new anime I told you about? It's so gas."
Rin looked at his friend and smirked, "I know what 'type' of man you are. Watching that shit for ass and gooning, can't fool me fan service enjoyer." He kept scrolling on his phone, an article about something happening in America.
"All I am hearing is that I watch peak. Besides, you have no room to talk, you watch horror movies dude, come on now."
Rin snorted, not looking up from his screen. "Horror movies are cinema, there's a difference. Psychological tension, atmosphere, commentary on society—" He waved his hand dismissively. "Meanwhile you're over here watching magical girls with the camera at a forty-five degree angle."
"That happened ONE time in ONE scene and you're never gonna let me live it down, are you?"
"Never," Rin replied flatly, finally glancing up with a grin. "Besides, I saw your 'Watched' list. You dropped three different shows this season but somehow stuck with the beach episode compilation."
His friend threw a pillow at him, which Rin dodged without even putting his phone down. "You know what, you're uninvited from my place this weekend. Was gonna order pizza and everything."
"Sure, sure." He went back to scrolling, his expression shifting slightly as he read. "Yo, you see this? They're saying there might be some crazy weather heading to the East Coast. Like, actually serious this time."
"Mm." His friend leaned back on the couch. "My cousin lives in New York. Hope she's good."
"Yeah." Rin paused, then added, "Wanna actually watch something together later? I'll even let you pick. Just... maybe something with a plot this time?"
"Deal. But I'm picking the snacks too."
"Fine by me." Rin smirked. "As long as you're not pulling up to my place with those weird chips you like."
"The wasabi ones are GOOD—"
"They taste like ass bro."
"Ayoooo, how you know what ass tastes like?"
Rin threw the pillow back, harder this time. "You know what I meant, dumbass."
His friend caught it, laughing. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Mr. 'I Know What Ass Tastes Like.'"
"I'm gonna—" Rin started, but his phone buzzed with a notification that made him pause. The weather alert banner flashed red across his screen. "Huh. That's weird."
"What?"
"Nothing, just—" The lights flickered. Once, twice and then the whole apartment plunged into darkness.
"Bro, did you forget to pay your electric bill?"
"Shut up, I paid it." Rin stood, phone flashlight already on. Outside the window, the streetlights were out too. The whole block was dark. "This is weird. It's not even storming yet."
A low rumble shook the building—not quite thunder, something deeper. Something that made Rin's teeth vibrate in his skull.
"Okay, that's definitely not normal," his friend said, getting up. "Earthquake?"
"In this part of the country? No way." Rin moved to the window. The sky had taken on a strange color, like someone had inverted the contrast on reality. Purple-green clouds swirled overhead in patterns that made his eyes hurt to follow.
Then the window exploded inward.
Rin threw his arm up instinctively as glass shards erupted into the room like a shotgun blast. He felt the hot sting of cuts across his forearm, his cheek, his shoulder—dozens of tiny knives finding skin.
"Shit—!" His friend hit the ground behind the couch.
The wind that followed wasn't natural. It screamed through the apartment with force that sent furniture sliding, papers whipping into a tornado, his phone ripped from his hand and clattering somewhere in the darkness.
Rin staggered back, trying to shield his face, but something was wrong with the air itself. It felt thick, like trying to breathe through syrup.
And then he saw it.
Through the shattered window, hanging in that impossible sky, was a crack, a crack in reality.
'What the fuck?'
A massive fissure of absolute void that bled wrong colors at its edges, colors that didn't have names, that his brain refused to process.
"What the fuck is that—" Rin whispered.
The crack pulsed, and a wave of pressure slammed into him, felt like getting hit by a bus. His vision went white, then red, then a cascade of colors that shouldn't exist. He heard his friend screaming his name, but the sound came from very far away, distorted and wrong.
Rin tried to move toward the door, but his legs weren't cooperating. He looked down and saw blood—too much blood—spreading across his shirt. A large shard of glass protruded from his side, right below his ribs.
He hadn't even felt it go in.
"Oh," he said stupidly. "That's bad."
His friend was next to him suddenly, hands pressing against the wound. "No no no no, stay with me man, I'm calling—the phones aren't working, fuck, FUCK—"
The apartment shook again. Outside, sirens wailed. Screaming echoed from other units. That terrible rumbling grew louder, closer, like the earth itself was groaning.
Rin's vision tunneled. The edges went dark, closing in like a camera iris. He tried to speak but only managed a wet cough. Blood on his lips, copper on his tongue.
The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was that crack in the sky splitting wider, and something—things—beginning to crawl through.
Then nothing.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[INTEGRATION COMMENCING...]
[HOST VITALS: CRITICAL]
[EMERGENCY PROTOCOL INITIATED]
[PLACING HOST IN SUSPENDED ANIMATION]
[ESTIMATED RECOVERY TIME: 731 DAYS]
---
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The sound dragged Rin back to consciousness like a fishhook through his skull.
Sterile... rhythmic and annoying.
His eyes cracked open to harsh lights that made him want to immediately close them again. White ceiling tiles, the smell of antiseptic and something else—something stale and dusty, like the place hadn't been properly cleaned in a while.
He tried to move and his body screamed in protest. Every muscle felt atrophied, weak, like he'd been... how long had he been...?
"He's awake!" A voice, loud with surprise. "Doctor, the patient in 304 is conscious!"
He hard footsteps, hurried too.
He turned his head—slowly, painfully—toward the sound. A nurse stood in the doorway, young, eyes wide with something that looked almost like shock.
"How..." Rin's voice came out as a croak, his throat desert-dry. "How long...?"
The nurse didn't answer, just rushed out. More footsteps. A man in a white coat appeared, older, with deep circles under his eyes and a mask hanging loose around his neck.
"Mr. Rin?" The doctor approached carefully, like Rin might shatter. "Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital?" He managed to say. His mind felt sluggish, thoughts moving through mud.
Then he started to recall what happened. "The window... the sky..."
"You've been in a coma," the doctor said gently. "There was an accident and you sustained severe injuries, particularly from glass lacerations. One piece punctured your lower abdomen, caused significant internal bleeding. You were in critical condition when you arrived."
Rin processed this slowly. A coma... that tracked with how his body felt—like it had forgotten how to be a body.
"How long?" he asked again.
The doctor exchanged a glance with the nurse. Something passed between them, something heavy.
"Mr. Rin," the doctor said carefully. "You've been unconscious for two years."
The words didn't land at first. They bounced off his brain like rubber balls. Two years, 730 days. That wasn't—that couldn't—
"What year is it?"
"2027," the doctor replied. "It's April 15th, 2027."
Two years. He lost two years.
"My friend," he said suddenly, urgency cutting through the fog. "The guy who was with me, is he—"
The doctor's expression shifted, became more guarded. "He survived the initial incident. He's... alive."
The way he said 'alive' made Rin's stomach drop, but before he could press further, the doctor continued.
"Your friend—" the doctor glanced at a chart, "—Leo right? He's doing quite well, actually. Better than well." There was something in his tone, a mixture of respect and... envy? Fear? "He's what we call a Hunter now. Ranked in the top 100 nationally, last I heard."
"Hunter?" Rin's brain was still playing catch-up. "What the hell is a Hunter?"
The doctor moved to the window and pulled back the thin curtain.
Rin's breath caught in his throat.