The sky was too clear.
Katekarin noticed that first.
It was the kind of blue that didn't belong to a world that was dying.
No haze.
No drifting ash.
No distant sirens.
Just a quiet, empty sky stretching endlessly above a city that hadn't yet realized it was about to lose everything.
He stood at the edge of the pedestrian crossing, hands shoved into the pockets of his school uniform, headphones hanging loose around his neck. The light hadn't changed yet. Red. Still red.
People moved around him in that same detached rhythm—morning commuters, students, vendors opening shutters, motorcycles weaving through narrow spaces like fish through coral.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Katekarin exhaled slowly.
There was always something off about moments like this. A strange heaviness in his chest, like something unseen was pressing down—not enough to hurt, just enough to warn.
He had felt it before.
Not here.
Not in this life.
But somewhere else.
A battlefield.
The memory flickered—steel clashing, mud underfoot, the smell of iron and fire. A scream cut short. His hand gripping a sword so tightly his fingers bled—
—and then it vanished.
Katekarin blinked.
"…What the hell was that…"
He rubbed his temple, frowning.
Lately, it had been happening more often.
Fragments. Images. Feelings that didn't belong to a sixteen-year-old student living in a modern city. They came without warning and disappeared just as quickly, leaving behind nothing but a lingering sense of loss.
Or maybe regret.
The traffic light turned green.
People surged forward.
Katekarin followed.
Halfway across the road, something changed.
It wasn't a sound.
It wasn't a sight.
It was—
Pressure.
A sudden, crushing weight that slammed into the world like an invisible wave.
Everyone stopped.
Not consciously. Not willingly.
They just… froze.
Katekarin's breath caught in his throat.
The sky.
It was still blue—
—but something was there.
A distortion.
Like heat rippling over asphalt, except it stretched across the entire sky. Warped. Twisted. Wrong.
Someone screamed.
Then another.
The distortion split open.
Not cracked.
Not shattered.
It peeled—like reality itself was being torn apart from the inside.
And beyond it—
Darkness.
Not night.
Not clouds.
A depthless, endless void that swallowed light.
Shapes moved within it.
Massive.
Alive.
Katekarin staggered back.
"…No…"
His voice barely came out.
His heart was hammering so violently it hurt.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't imagination.
This was—
Something fell.
Fast.
Too fast.
A streak of black fire tore through the sky, screaming as it descended. It slammed into the city blocks ahead with a sound that didn't belong in the world—too deep, too heavy—like something ancient had struck the earth.
The ground shook.
Glass shattered.
Cars flipped.
The shockwave hit a second later.
Katekarin was thrown off his feet.
Pain exploded through his side as he hit the asphalt, breath knocked from his lungs. The world spun, ears ringing, vision blurred.
People were screaming.
Running.
Crying.
But above all of it—
A sound echoed.
A call.
Low. Resonant. Inhuman.
Katekarin forced himself up.
Smoke rose from the impact site ahead.
Something was moving inside it.
Not human.
Not animal.
Wrong.
It stepped out slowly.
Tall—far too tall.
Its body was layered in something that looked like bone, but moved like muscle. Limbs too long. Joints bending at unnatural angles. Its head—
Katekarin froze.
There was no face.
Just a smooth, pale surface that reflected nothing.
It tilted slightly.
Then—
It looked at him.
He felt it.
Not sight.
Not vision.
Recognition.
Katekarin's stomach dropped.
"…Run…"
He didn't remember deciding to move.
His body just reacted.
He turned and sprinted.
Behind him, something slammed into the ground.
The creature moved.
Faster than anything that size should.
People were cut down without resistance. Not even attacks—just casual, sweeping movements that erased them.
Katekarin ran harder.
His lungs burned.
His legs screamed.
The city around him collapsed into chaos—sirens, fire, distant explosions. More streaks fell from the sky. More impacts. More of those things emerging.
This wasn't an attack.
It was a harvest.
A horn blared.
Katekarin turned instinctively—
A truck.
Too close.
Too fast.
His mind went blank.
There was no time.
No escape.
Only impact.
—
Pain.
Blinding.
Instant.
Then—
Nothing.
—
Silence.
—
Cold.
—
Katekarin opened his eyes.
He didn't gasp.
Didn't scream.
Didn't move.
He just… lay there.
The world was different.
The air was heavier. Thicker. It carried a scent—metal, earth, something faintly rotten.
Above him—
The sky.
Gray.
Not natural gray.
A dead, lifeless tone, like color itself had been drained out.
"…Am I… alive?"
His voice was hoarse.
Wrong.
Even it sounded unfamiliar.
Katekarin slowly sat up.
His body responded—but sluggishly, like it didn't quite belong to him yet.
He looked down at his hands.
Smaller.
Thinner.
Different.
"…What…"
His heartbeat started to rise.
He pushed himself to his feet.
The ground beneath him was cracked concrete, overgrown with weeds pushing through the gaps. Buildings surrounded him—but they weren't intact. Most were broken, leaning, partially collapsed.
This wasn't the city.
Not the one he knew.
"…Where am I…"
A sound echoed in the distance.
Not a car.
Not machinery.
A roar.
Low.
Deep.
Animal.
Katekarin froze.
Something about that sound made his instincts scream.
Danger.
Real danger.
He turned slowly toward the direction it came from.
Between the ruins, something moved.
At first, he thought it was a dog.
Then it stepped into clearer view.
And his mind rejected it.
Too big.
Its body was twisted, muscles bulging unnaturally under patchy, hardened skin. Its jaws extended too far, filled with rows of uneven teeth. One eye was missing. The other glowed faintly—yellow, unnatural.
It sniffed the air.
Then its head snapped toward him.
They locked eyes.
Katekarin couldn't move.
His body refused.
The creature growled.
A low, hungry sound.
Then it charged.
Katekarin's mind finally broke free.
He stumbled back, panic flooding in.
"No—!"
He turned to run—
—and tripped.
His body hit the ground hard.
The creature was already on him.
Too fast.
Too close.
Its jaws opened—
Katekarin raised his arms instinctively.
His eyes shut.
This is it.
Again.
I'm dying—
—
A sound cut through the moment.
Sharp.
Clean.
The creature stopped.
Its body jerked.
Then—
It split.
Cleanly.
From shoulder to jaw.
Blood sprayed across the ground.
The two halves collapsed beside Katekarin's frozen body.
Silence returned.
Katekarin slowly lowered his arms.
His entire body was shaking.
"…What…"
A figure stood a few meters away.
Human.
Wearing armor—dark, worn, practical. A long blade rested at their side, stained but steady.
Their gaze was sharp.
Assessing.
Cold.
"…You're lucky," the stranger said.
Katekarin couldn't respond.
His brain was still catching up.
"…Where… am I…" he finally managed.
The stranger stared at him for a long moment.
Then—
"…You don't even know?"
Katekarin shook his head weakly.
The stranger exhaled.
"…Then listen carefully," they said.
"Because you're either going to die in the next hour…"
"…or you're going to learn fast enough to survive."
They gestured to the ruined city around them.
"This is what's left of the world."
Katekarin's chest tightened.
"…What happened…"
The stranger's eyes flicked briefly to the sky.
That dead, gray sky.
"…Fifty years ago," they said, "the sky opened."
Katekarin's breath caught.
"…Just like what you saw."
"…Aliens."
The word felt absurd.
Impossible.
But the world around him made it undeniable.
"They didn't just invade," the stranger continued. "They changed everything."
"They brought organisms. Parasites. Something like a living infection."
"Animals adapted first."
Katekarin glanced at the corpse beside him.
"…That was… a dog…?"
"…Once."
The stranger's tone didn't change.
"Now they're called mutates."
Katekarin swallowed hard.
"And humans?"
The stranger's expression darkened slightly.
"…We survived."
"Barely."
They looked toward the horizon.
Far beyond the ruins.
"…Five places still stand."
Katekarin followed their gaze.
He couldn't see them—but he felt something.
Distance.
Hope.
Or maybe just desperation.
"The last strongholds of humanity."
"They're the only reason we're not extinct."
Katekarin's head spun.
Too much.
Too fast.
"This doesn't make sense…" he muttered. "I was just… I was—"
He stopped.
Something shifted inside him.
That feeling again.
Memories.
Not fragments this time.
A flood.
A battlefield.
A different sky.
Steel armor.
Commanding voices.
Pain.
Death.
Then—
Darkness.
Then—
This.
Katekarin clutched his head, gasping.
"…What is happening to me…"
The stranger watched him closely.
"…You're not from here, are you?"
Katekarin looked up sharply.
"…I…"
The words caught in his throat.
Because deep down—
He knew.
He had died.
Not just once.
Twice.
And now—
He was here.
In a world that had already ended.
The stranger turned away slightly.
"…Doesn't matter."
They began walking.
Then paused.
"…If you want to live," they said without looking back, "follow me."
Katekarin hesitated.
His legs were still shaking.
His mind still breaking.
But behind him—
The ruins.
The creatures.
Death.
Ahead—
At least a chance.
He took a breath.
Then another.
And forced himself to stand.
"…Wait…"
The stranger didn't stop.
Katekarin followed anyway.
Step by step.
Into a world he didn't understand.
Into a future that shouldn't exist.
Into the aftermath of an apocalypse that had already lasted fifty years—
—and was still far from over.