Two days after the EC measurements, Grayridge's atmosphere grew heavier.
Ethan woke before dawn. He hadn't slept all night. The ARC-KEY fragment in his jacket pocket had vibrated steadily through the darkness, in time with his heartbeat.
He stood at the window, looking out at the square. D.I.S soldiers patrolled more frequently now—every corner had at least two guards, EC-Carbines in hand, eyes scanning with vigilance. The four tall metal pillars at the village's four cardinal points glowed a steady blue, forming an invisible net around Grayridge.
They're keeping us in a cage, he thought.
"Ethan!" His mother called from downstairs. "Come eat breakfast. We need to go to the market today to buy supplies."
"Supplies?" Ethan came down, saw Maria packing things into bags. "What for?"
"D.I.S recommended each household stock three days' worth of food and water," Maria answered, not looking at him. "They said... in case of an 'emergency situation.'"
A chill ran down Ethan's spine. Three days. Exactly the time remaining before C-27 activated.
That afternoon, Ethan decided to go out.
He told Maria he was going to the library. Instead, he headed for the village edge—the forest. He needed to scout the routes and terrain in case something went wrong and he had to lead people to escape.
But when he stepped outside, a voice rang out:
"Where are you going?"
Ethan turned. A D.I.S soldier—a man named Vex—stood at the corner, watching him.
"I... I'm going to the library," Ethan answered.
"The library's that way," Vex pointed in the opposite direction. "You're heading toward the forest."
"I'm just walking around."
"Walking around?" Vex stepped closer. "Captain Kaelen has notified everyone—no one leaves the village, and movement is restricted."
"But I'm just—"
"No exceptions," Vex cut him off.
Ethan looked at Vex, then toward the forest. He knew he couldn't argue.
I'm being watched, he thought.
He turned back, heading toward the library. But inside, a decision was forming: if he couldn't go during the day, he'd go at night.
The library was empty.
Mrs. Moira wasn't there—she hadn't been for two days, claiming she "wasn't feeling well." Ethan sat in a far corner, opened a book but couldn't read. His head swirled with chaotic thoughts.
72 hours. Now only... 60 hours left. Two and a half days.
He took out the ARC-KEY fragment, hiding it under the table, examining it closely. Under the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, it glowed faintly—a very dim blue light, but more stable than before.
The sound of shattering glass made him jump.
Ethan spun around—saw a small rock lying on the floor, the window broken. Outside, Lyra stood waving, calling to him.
Ethan ran out. "What are you doing?"
"You need to come right now," Lyra said, breathing hard. "Something's happening in the forest."
"What?"
"Animals are running out of the forest," Lyra said. "Hundreds of them—deer, rabbits, even wild boar—running from deep in the forest toward the village. Like they're... fleeing from something."
They ran toward the fence surrounding the village, where the boundary between houses and forest lay.
A crowd had already gathered there—villagers, D.I.S soldiers, all staring toward the forest with horrified faces. And Ethan saw.
Forest animals were pouring out.
Not just a few. Hundreds. Deer leaping through brush, eyes wide, foam at their mouths. Rabbits running erratically, in no particular direction. Wild boars charging straight ahead, ignoring people or obstacles in their path. One deer ran straight into a tree trunk, collapsed, legs twitching, then lay still.
"What's wrong with them?" A man asked.
"Behavioral disturbance," a D.I.S soldier answered. "When a rift opens, anomalous frequency throws their minds off."
"But this many?" An old woman asked. "A whole herd like this?"
The soldier didn't answer. But Ethan knew: This was likely a high-level rift, which meant powerful monsters could appear.
"Has anyone gone into the forest to check?" Kaelen Voss stepped forward, voice cold. "I need confirmation of the forest's status."
"Not yet, Captain," a soldier answered. "We're awaiting orders."
"Liam Gray," Kaelen called. Liam—standing at the crowd's edge—flinched. "You know this forest's terrain well. Lead a team in to investigate."
"But this forest has changed a lot since I left," Liam said.
"That's an order."
"I know this forest well. I can be the guide," Ethan stepped forward.
Kaelen looked at Ethan as he volunteered. "Are you sure? There's very likely a rift already open in the forest..."
"I'm sure," Ethan said firmly.
Kaelen studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "All right. But don't touch anything. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The team consisted of five people: Liam, two D.I.S soldiers, one hunter, and Ethan.
They entered the forest.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
Colder. Damper. And there was a smell—metallic, like ozone, a smell... that didn't belong to Realm 6. Ethan recognized it instantly: this was the smell of a weak Boundary, the smell of torn space.
The two D.I.S soldiers carried detection devices—small black boxes with blue screens. The graph lines on the screens jumped violently, into the yellow zone, then orange.
"F-tier rift, nearing E," one soldier said. "Boundary stress climbing."
"That's the outer stress field," the other soldier added, tapping the screen. "The core could be worse."
"Continue," Liam said. "We need to find the source."
They went deeper. Trees grew thicker, blocking the light. No bird sounds. No insect sounds either. Only wind—and another sound. Very faint. Like whispering.
"Do you hear that?" The hunter asked, voice trembling. "That... something talking."
"Anomalous frequency," the D.I.S soldier explained. "When the Boundary weakens, the brain hears patterns that aren't there."
In his jacket pocket, the ARC-KEY fragment began vibrating strongly.
Close now, he thought.
They walked another twenty steps, turned into a gap between two large trees—and saw it.
The rift.
Not a small rift like Ethan had read about in books. But a large rift—three meters tall, five meters wide, suspended in mid-air like a massive tear in invisible fabric.
From that tear, blue light leaked out—not natural light, but strange light, as if from another dimension. And through the tear, Ethan saw:
Another forest.
Trees twice, three times as tall. Leaves not the usual green, but glowing green, like fluorescent lights. Ground not brown, but gray-black, with blue veins running through like glowing blood vessels. And the sky—the sky wasn't blue. It was pale purple, with oddly-shaped clouds writhing like flying dragons.
"Realm 5," Liam whispered. "This is a window into the Wild Verge."
A D.I.S soldier with a detection device stepped closer. The screen flashed bright red:
[RIFT D - MODERATE]
[BOUNDARY STRESS: 68%]
[WARNING: ANOMALY INCURSION POSSIBLE]
"D-tier rift," the soldier said, voice shaking. "And... it's expanding."
It was true. When Ethan looked closely, he saw the tear slowly widening—a few millimeters every second, as if invisible hands were pulling the edges apart.
"We need to report to the captain immediately," the second soldier said. "This rift is too large. We need—"
A sound from inside the rift.
Not wind. Not leaves. But... footsteps.
Heavy. Steady. Getting closer.
"Back up," Liam ordered, voice tight. "Back up now."
But it was too late.
From inside the rift, a figure emerged.
About two meters tall. Human-shaped, but hazy, without clear details. No face. No fingertips. Just a gray-white silhouette, flickering up and down like a glitching image on an old TV.
"Hollow Wraith," the D.I.S soldier whispered. "Tier D. Spectral-type anomaly."
The creature had no eyes, but Ethan felt it watching—staring straight at him, through him, reading what lay inside.
And then it made a sound.
Not a normal sound. But a sound made of energy—vibrating straight into bone, into brain. A sourceless cry, as if it came from inside Ethan's head.
His thoughts smeared—mind-scramble. Like someone had shaken his brain, and panic rushed in behind.
"Fire!" Liam shouted.
The two D.I.S soldiers drew their EC-Pistols, fired. Two blue energy pulses shot straight toward the Hollow Wraith. One beam missed—the creature drifted sideways, faster than the eye could follow. The second hit—shot straight through its chest.
But no blood. No scream. The Hollow Wraith just... flickered slightly, then continued moving.
"Shoot the core!" Liam shouted. "In the center of the chest!"
The soldiers fired two more shots. This time, one hit dead center—where a small bright point glowed, like the creature's heart.
The Hollow Wraith stopped—then convulsed, its outline tearing like bad signal. A bone-chilling shriek, and it broke into tiny fragments of light that floated up into the air and vanished.
Silence.
"Is it... dead?" The hunter asked.
"No," Liam answered. "It's dispersed. It'll pull itself back together on the other side. Give it a few hours. But at least... it's not here anymore."
Ethan looked toward the rift. His heart raced when he realized: from inside, more figures were moving. More of them. Not just one. Two. Three. Four.
"Liam," he whispered. "There are more."
Liam looked toward the rift—and his face went pale.
"Run," he said. "Run now."
They crashed through brush and deadfall, branches snapping at their faces. No one dared to look back. Behind them, the cries of Hollow Wraiths rose—not just one, but many, like a chorus of empty voices.
Ethan ran as fast as he could, but he was still just an ordinary person. His foot caught, nearly tripped. Liam grabbed his hand, pulled him up.
"Don't stop!" He shouted.
They ran to the forest's edge—where sunlight broke through, where village houses appeared. And when they stepped out of the forest, Ethan turned to look.
The Hollow Wraiths had stopped at the forest's edge. As if an invisible wall held them back. They didn't cross over. Just stood there, silhouettes flickering, watching the village.
"Why aren't they following?" A soldier asked.
"Light," Liam answered, breathing hard. "Hollow Wraiths are weak against strong light. Daytime sunlight is enough to stop them."
"But at night..." the hunter said.
Liam nodded. "Tonight, they'll enter the village."
They reported to Kaelen immediately.
He listened, nodded, showing no surprise. "D-tier rift. Tier D anomaly. Just as predicted."
"Captain, we need to seal off the forest," Liam said. "We need to reorganize formations. We need to close this rift right now—"
"No," Kaelen cut him off. "We'll let them in."
"What?" Liam's eyes widened. "You're planning to—"
"We need data," Kaelen said, voice cold. "To observe monster behavior in a civilian environment. This is a good opportunity."
"But the villagers—"
"Will be protected," Kaelen answered. "We'll set up floodlights around the square. Everyone must stay indoors after 6 PM. Anyone who violates this will be responsible for themselves."
Liam stared at Kaelen in disbelief. "You're using Grayridge as an experiment."
"Order has a cost," Kaelen replied. "Tonight, you'll see it."
That night, Grayridge became a besieged fortress.
Blue floodlights blazed around the square, creating a circle of light. Outside that circle—darkness. And in the darkness, figures moved.
Hollow Wraiths.
Ethan watched from his bedroom window, saw them—three, four, five—drifting at the light's edge, not daring to step in. They stood there, flickering, releasing small cries—as if calling, as if waiting.
"What are they waiting for?" Maria asked, voice trembling.
"For the lights to go out," Liam answered. "Or for someone to step outside."
Ethan said nothing. In his jacket pocket, the ARC-KEY fragment vibrated strongly—stronger than ever. It was reacting to the Hollow Wraiths.
And he heard the voice—very faint, but clear:
"36 hours."
36 hours left.
A day and a half.
And after that—C-27 would activate.
And Grayridge wouldn't just be under siege by a few Hollow Wraiths.
This village might be erased entirely.
Ethan looked out the window, at the figures in the night, at the massive blue streak in the sky—now wider, longer, pulsing stronger.
And he knew: time was running out.