《Till Do Us Part》 cHApTEr 1. rEsT in piEcEs (1 of 3) Have you ever woken up and felt like you were dead? That¡¯s how he felt as he opened his eyes. His head was throbbing intensely, yet the pain felt like a dull ache, as though it was coming from somewhere outside his body. It was like if you are reliving a nightmare when everything feels real, but upon waking up, you realize it was just a bad dream. Still, the afterthoughts haunt you throughout the day, keeping that unnerving feeling of what if, with just a tiny possibility, that dream means something. And you keep speculating whether that dream was a premonition or a trick of your exhausted mind. Until you eventually forget about it, never bringing it up again. It was cold. At least, that was his impression. He couldn''t quite tell for sure, as he was judging by the cold, blue light reflecting off the shiny metal surfaces of the furniture around and the yellow brick wall, which gave the room a greenish hue. He had no idea where he was or why he was here. Indeed, he had no recollection of when he went to sleep or lost his consciousness some other way. His memory was so vague that he couldn''t remember a thing. Well, that was not entirely true. He remembered his name ¨C it was Mioray ¨C and that he was twenty years old, living with his parents and studying history at the university. What he couldn''t recall was what day it was or what he had been doing before ending up in this place, wherever this was. Mioray was lying on a metal table in the center of the room, covered by white sheets. Slowly, he sat up and looked around. Similar tables stood on both sides of the one Mioray sat on. No one else was there, just him alone. Strangely, it felt like he had seen this room before, or a version of it, but not with his own eyes. Perhaps in movies or in video games? It was one of these places that you would recognize instantly, even if you have never been there before. A shiver of anxiety ran down his spine, accompanied by unsettling cold on the fingertips. Lamps hung from the ceiling like chunks of monolith, dimmed for now, though there was no doubt they could blaze bright enough to illuminate every detail of the objects lying on the tables, provided there were some. Right now, only Mioray occupied one of the tables, the others were empty. At the head of each table there was a sink with a showerhead, and nearby, scales and a tray on wheels with various tools. One wall of the room held a set of drawers, all hermetically sealed. There were at least a dozen, maybe more. Instinctively, Mioray knew what was supposed to be inside. He hoped that he was mistaken, and that all drawers were empty instead. His breathing quickened. Anxiety surged through him, and the throbbing in his head intensified. At least, he thought it was pain ¨C his consciousness was slipping, and his vision began to darken at the edges. He had to hold himself together. If he didn¡¯t, he would disappear. A voice inside his head warned him: if you lose yourself, there will be no turning back. Desperately, Mioray brought his hands to his face. But there was only one hand. Mioray was covering only half his face, despite the fact that he definitely should have raised both arms, he was sure of it. And yet, his left eye was still able to see the room clearly, with nothing covering it. His left arm was gone. There was nothing but emptiness up to the elbow, where his skin had been sewn together. His right arm, too, bore stitches at the elbow, as if it had once been severed and reattached. Mioray threw off the sheets covering him, and found himself completely naked. His knees were similarly stitched like his right arm, and when he touched his throat, he felt the rough crossing of threads there as well. And there, tied to his toe on the right leg, was a cardboard tag with some writing on it. Like he was a corpse or something. At that moment, he screamed. I¡¯m missing my arm! Why am I missing my arm?! This can¡¯t be real! Am I still in the nightmare?! He felt dizzy, which added to the effect of everything being fake. It would be so easy to write off this as a bad dream and be done with it. Unfortunately, Mioray realized that he was lucid. No, it was not a bad dream. He understood it was not, and it only amplified the terror in his mind. He would have soon drowned in the darkness of the horror in front of him, but the voice inside his head ordered Mioray to calm down. It reminded him how thin the line was between sanity and madness, especially now, in his current state. That confident voice eased Mioray¡¯s panic attack, but only a little. What was this state he was currently in? What did it mean? And most importantly, how had he ended up alive ¨C in a morgue? He tried to stand, but whether from weakness, clumsiness, or the absence of his left arm, Mioray lost his balance and tumbled off the table, knocking over the tray beside him. The tray crashed to the floor with a loud clatter. The tools ¨C scissors, scalpels, saws and hammers ¨C scattered in every direction. The harsh, metallic noise assaulted Mioray¡¯s ears. Not as much physically as mentally. After all his screaming and the commotion, someone was bound to notice there was a living soul in the morgue. Mioray imagined someone hearing the ruckus and rushing in to investigate. The thought struck him as grimly ironic: a naked man, missing an arm, sprawled helplessly on the floor. And that man was supposed to be dead. Why else would that man, known as Mioray, be here? Unless... unless it was someone¡¯s twisted prank. This is some sort of sick joke, Mioray thought while lying on the floor. This can¡¯t be happening. I don¡¯t know how they did it, but this is not real. Stitches, missing arm¡­ Oh god, what if somebody cut off my arm for the sake of a joke?! These and other thoughts invaded Mioray¡¯s mind as he tried to make sense of his situation. A few minutes passed, but no one came to check on him. As he had speculated earlier, it could be a prank, but that seemed unlikely. He had no connections in any hospital, if that¡¯s even where he was, and he didn¡¯t have friends who worked in one. Besides, who would cut off an arm just for a prank?! Only a maniac or a crazy person. And he didn¡¯t think he knew anyone like that. Maybe it was some sort of mistake? Perhaps he¡¯d been in a terrible accident and lost his arm, and the paramedics at the scene had mistaken him for dead. That seemed plausible. That would explain why Mioray couldn¡¯t remember a damn thing. He didn¡¯t even know if it was day or night outside. As far as Mioray was concerned, he was walking around on the streets, minding his own business, when, out of nowhere, he was knocked unconscious. Hit by a car, for example. Or maybe he was actually dead? Maybe the zombie apocalypse had finally begun, and that¡¯s why no one had heard him scream a few minutes ago. Everyone had turned into mindless living corpses, hunting for fresh brains, while Mioray was the only one who had retained his sanity, trapped forever between life and death. Mioray shook his head, dismissing the thought as absurd. It was absurd, wasn¡¯t it? Mioray tore off the tag on his toe and threw it away without reading it. He tried to stand again, this time leaning on the edge of the table. Slowly, he managed to get up, but his legs felt... strange. Actually, his entire body felt strange. For one, he couldn¡¯t really sense pain. He knew it was there ¨C in his head, in his stitched-up parts, in his hip where he had fallen ¨C but he couldn¡¯t feel it in the normal way. It was just... there. Maybe he was under the influence of strong painkillers. His whole body felt numb, like it didn¡¯t quite belong to him. He could control it, sure, but it felt more like he was controlling it from the outside, like a puppeteer moving strings. A puppeteer who could somehow project sensations onto the puppet itself, without being disturbed by them. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. He didn¡¯t feel weak, but his legs were stiff and unresponsive, as though he had to learn to use them all over again. The same went for his arms. My remaining arm, he corrected himself. Strangely, Mioray was already growing accustomed to the fact that he was missing one. Shouldn¡¯t he continue panicking? He didn¡¯t. He just accepted it. I bet these painkillers are really good, Mioray thought. He was more concerned about the fact that he was standing there completely naked. The last thing he wanted was for someone to find him like this. Mioray scanned the room for clothes, but there was nothing in sight. He tried to recall what he had been wearing before his memory went blank, but nothing came to mind. His gaze fell on the white sheets lying beside him, the ones that had covered him while he was asleep. Mioray shrugged. Why not? It was better than nothing. Wrapping the sheets around himself in a makeshift toga, Mioray tossed the fabric over his left shoulder. Now, he looked like an ancient philosopher from a civilization long gone, albeit one missing an arm. It probably looked comical, more so than being completely naked. But it was something. So, from how it seemed, his body was the only one in the room, or at least he couldn¡¯t see any others around. Mioray was against investigating the drawers in the wall. For now, he decided that he was surely in the morgue, and in Reques City, the morgue was located in the Lilies Hospital. There was a chance he might encounter staff in the hallway outside. He tried the door, relieved to find it unlocked. The hallway outside was long and brightly lit by overhead lamps. There were no windows, no way to tell what might be outside. The stark, sterile corridor made Mioray feel like he was aboard a spaceship, drifting through the vast emptiness of space. It reminded him of a book he¡¯d read recently, where a man woke up from a medically induced coma after three or four years, the lone survivor on a spaceship, with his crewmates long dead and mummified. But there were no machines tending to him here, so this probably wasn¡¯t the case. At the far end of the hallway was an elevator. Mioray began walking toward it, passing intersecting corridors and doorways along the way. Some doors were closed, some open, but he didn¡¯t bother to look inside. Why would he? If he explored every room or turned down each corridor, he¡¯d only get lost. The elevator was his best option. Once inside, he could find out what floor he was on, and the route from the elevator to the exit would usually be straightforward. At least, he hoped so. Once by the elevator doors, Mioray pressed the button to call it. Nothing happened. He pressed it again, hoping for a different outcome, but the result was the same. His eyes drifted to the card reader next to the button. If it wasn¡¯t just for decoration, it meant that a card had to be scanned to access the elevator. Mioray didn¡¯t have one and had no idea where to get it. That aside, what was the point of installing a card reader here? Sure, in a publicly accessible area restricting access would be logical, but this part of the hospital didn¡¯t seem open to just anyone. So why the extra security? Why limit who could leave? It wasn¡¯t like people were trying to escape from the morgue, right? Then again, technically, that was exactly what Mioray was trying to do. But he wasn¡¯t a dead corpse trying to escape. He was very much alive. He just wanted to get home. His parents were probably worried sick, not knowing where Mioray was. From his point of view, it had only been a few hours since he last saw them, but that could be wrong. How long had he been unconscious? Was it just a few hours? Or had several days already passed? He was trapped, with no idea how long he had been here or how long he¡¯d stay. Mioray needed to find someone, anyone, and ask them to let him out. But what if they asked him how he got here? He¡¯d answer truthfully ¨C he didn¡¯t know. His recent memories were still a fog. Anyways, the elevator was a dead end, and Mioray hadn¡¯t seen any maps or exit signs to help guide him. He retraced his steps, this time checking every door and hallway he passed. None of the rooms he entered had windows. This part of the hospital felt completely abandoned, or maybe the staff had already realized Mioray was awake and were hiding. Or, if he entertained the idea of this being some elaborate prank, perhaps they were waiting for the perfect moment to jump out from around a corner, set off confetti firecrackers in his face, and yell "Surprise!" While they were at it, they could sew his arm back on too. He wouldn¡¯t mind. But, really, why would anyone leave me here all alone? he thought. You¡¯d think the doctors are skilled enough to determine whether someone is dead or not. I mean, I am alive, right? I think, therefore I am. But then his fingers grazed his throat again, feeling the threads sewn into his skin. The same went for his right arm, both legs, and even the stump where his left arm should have been. He¡¯d heard stories of limbs being reattached in time, still fully functional after surgery. But the head? That was new. At least, it was the first he¡¯d ever heard of it. Thankfully, when Mioray checked yet another room, which, by the look of it, was a storage room, he finally saw another living person, a woman. From the green uniform, he guessed she was a nurse. She had her back to him, sitting on all fours and rummaging through supplies on a shelf, completely unaware of his approach. He had never been so happy to see another human being. Of course, Mioray hadn¡¯t ruled out the wild possibility that she could still be a zombie, and when he called out to her, she¡¯d turn with bloody, decayed features, letting out a sinister growl. Come to think of it, she was already making sounds suspiciously similar to the growls zombies make in movies. In those movies, this would be the classic moment when one of the characters, usually not the brightest, lets their guard down and gets too close to a zombie, only to be bitten or worse, devoured. Now, Mioray found himself in the shoes of that exact character. He hesitated. What a shame he hadn¡¯t grabbed one of those scalpels from the tray back in the morgue. Maybe it wasn¡¯t too late to go back and arm himself, just in case? Mioray sighed. As if zombies could be more real than the idea of him waking up on a spaceship. There was only one way to find out. ¡°Excuse me, can you help me, please?¡± Mioray asked. His voice was weak, the words dragging lazily from his mouth as if they were stuck, clinging to the walls of his throat. ¡°Sorry, no, I¡¯m busy. Try asking another nurse.¡± So much for the zombie apocalypse. Mioray felt relieved. Now he was certain this woman was just a normal human being, not someone about to try and eat his brain. He just had to figure out how to persuade her to help him, especially since she hadn¡¯t even turned to look at him when she responded. Her voice was weary, like she was deep into the final hours of a grueling shift. Maybe she hadn¡¯t even realized that there shouldn¡¯t be anyone wandering around here, except other staff. He remembered how his father, a firefighter, used to work 24-hour shifts. He would sometimes manage a nap at the station, but there were nights when fires kept him from sleeping at all. When he came home, exhausted, the last thing he wanted was to be bothered, even by Mioray and his mom. All he wanted was sleep. Maybe this nurse was in the same state. ¡°Do you know where I can find another nurse?¡± ¡°Do I seem clairvoyant to you, to know where other people hang out? Just look for one, for holy Mirabelle¡¯s sake!¡± But Mioray still needed help, and he didn¡¯t know where to find another nurse. He already checked plenty of rooms and this was the only nurse he found so far. He cleared his throat, trying to speak more clearly. ¡°I¡¯m lost. I don¡¯t know where to go. I woke up not long ago, and I have no idea where I am. Actually, I¡¯m not sure that I¡¯m supposed to be here at all.¡± The nurse froze. She seemed to realize that something was very wrong. He, whoever he was, shouldn¡¯t be here. Or if he was supposed to be here, he should probably be dead or something. Slowly, she turned toward him. As she did, her eyes grew wider, filling with terror. What was she seeing in him? Could it be that, instead, Mioray looked like a zombie to her? Some kind of ancient, undead philosopher? The next second, she screamed. A sound so piercing and shrill that it felt like it echoed through the entire hospital. Everyone must have heard it: the living, the comatose, and even the dead. cHApTEr 1. rEsT in piEcEs (2 of 3) It took some time for the nurse to calm down and regain her composure. Watching her, Mioray felt a pang of guilt for startling her so badly. You know you¡¯re not supposed to be somewhere, if the first person you meet starts crying. Tears had smeared the nurse''s mascara, leaving black streaks down her cheeks. Still, it wasn¡¯t like he had any other way to get her attention. Despite feeling guilty, Mioray was relieved to have finally met another human being. It reassured him that he hadn¡¯t completely lost touch with reality. But his bizarre adventure ¨C waking up in the morgue ¨C was far from over. The nurse, now composed, began questioning him. Who was he? How did he end up here? The problem was, Mioray wanted answers to those exact questions himself. Realizing they were getting nowhere, she called the pathologist who had been working in the morgue. The pathologist, in turn, contacted the hospital administration, who, in a ripple effect, summoned the police. Mioray¡¯s sudden reappearance caused quite a stir. The pathologist swore that Mioray was the same young man whose autopsy he was supposed to perform, but first had to sew together his dismembered parts for future identification. The fear and confusion on everyone¡¯s faces made it clear ¨C they all believed Mioray should be, in fact, dead. As they waited for the police to arrive, the staff who had heard about the incident and were around found excuses to leave, all except the nurse who had found him. She was clearly nervous being around Mioray, but she had no choice since she was asked to look after him. After a quick check was made on Mioray, revealing no imminent danger to his health, the nurse brought him to a small room on the first floor, where she handed him a clean hospital gown and slippers to change into. As Mioray suspected, the morgue was located on the lower level, since the elevator had gone up when they took it. Once they reached the first floor, Mioray finally saw windows. The sky outside was pitch black. It was nighttime. Mioray sat at a table in the small room while the nurse, unable to meet his eyes, stood stiffly by the door. He could tell she was eager to leave, staying only because she¡¯d been ordered to. Despite her discomfort, she remained polite, even bringing him a bottle of water, though he wasn¡¯t particularly thirsty. The bottle sat on the table, untouched. She also asked if he was hungry, but Mioray told her he wasn¡¯t. Glancing through the open door, he saw a security guard stationed outside. Although Mioray wasn¡¯t a threat, the hospital administration seemed to believe otherwise. Or, perhaps they simply didn¡¯t want him running off. To be honest, Mioray had thought about escaping, but now it was out of the question. The police didn¡¯t take long to arrive. Two officers entered the room ¨C a man and a woman. Mioray had expected them to be in uniform, but instead, they wore plain clothes with brass badges fastened to their belts, each marked with a star insignia. The man, in his mid-forties, had brown hair slicked back and was dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket over a white shirt. Deep wrinkles lined his forehead. The black-haired woman with long eyelashes, around ten to fifteen years younger than her partner, wore khaki cargo pants and a blue denim shirt beneath a gray blazer. She clutched a paper coffee cup, wisps of steam curling from the lid. She must have grabbed it on the way over here. Both officers looked tired, as if they¡¯d been woken in the middle of the night. Mioray figured this wouldn¡¯t help their mood, which wasn¡¯t a good sign. ¡°Have you found out anything about him?¡± the policeman asked in a creaky voice. ¡°Not really,¡± the nurse answered. ¡°It looks like he suffered memory loss.¡± ¡°Yeah, we get that a lot.¡± Great. Mioray could already foresee disaster coming. These guys from the police were not going to be his friends. The lamps on the ceiling hummed melancholically. Mioray wondered whether he should have run away while he had the chance, but there hadn¡¯t been any opportunity. Getting involved with the police was always unpleasant. It wasn¡¯t like he had done anything wrong, but they always knew how to twist things and make you guilty of every sin in the world. ¡°Okay, we will take it from here,¡± the man thanked the nurse and let her go. She left eagerly, closing the door on her way out. The man sat on the other side of the table, while the woman leaned against the wall next to the door. She looked deep in thought or maybe she hadn¡¯t fully woken up yet, but the man was staring at Mioray with suspicion. He instantly felt like he was about to be interrogated, which was ridiculous, to be honest. Mioray wasn¡¯t even a suspect in any crime. For all he knew, he was the victim. "So, how are you holding up?" the man asked in a fake, buoyant tone, as if speaking to a child. "My name is Chad Haytham, and this here is my partner, Natalie Lance. We¡¯re detectives, working here in Reques City. Can you tell us about yourself?" On the table, near the bottle of water, there was a crumpled piece of cardboard. It was the tag that had been tied to Mioray¡¯s toe, the one he had torn off. The pathologist had searched the morgue thoroughly to find the body he had worked on, but the tag was the only thing he could find. He left it with the nurse as evidence for the police, telling everyone that either the body had disappeared, or Mioray had miraculously come back to life. The nurse had placed it on the table and forgotten about it. Of course, the detectives were already aware of all of this, and now they had to figure out which scenario was true. It wasn¡¯t a hard decision. People don¡¯t come back from the dead. So, the actual corpse the pathologist worked on must have disappeared. The challenge lay in understanding how Mioray fit into all of this. How did he end up in the morgue, seemingly swapped with a dead body? ¡°Let me help you,¡± Detective Haytham leaned forward. ¡°Here¡¯s an easy one. What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°John Doe,¡± Mioray answered thoughtlessly, using the name he¡¯d seen on the tag. By the time he realized he¡¯d lied, it was already too late. Still, Mioray was glad he hadn¡¯t used his real name. He couldn¡¯t quite explain why, but he didn¡¯t want to associate himself with this incident. If he told the police his real name, he¡¯d forever brand himself, and that scared him. There were too many unknowns in this situation. He was fine with keeping it that way. Mioray was alive, and that was enough for him. Now, he only wanted to get home. There was still a way to return to his usual life unsullied. ¡°Something tells me that¡¯s not true,¡± Detective Haytham snickered. ¡°Would be quite a hell of a coincidence. You know that name is usually used for unidentified dead people, right? And you look pretty alive for a John Doe.¡± ¡°Do you say the same thing to all the John Does you meet?¡± Mioray asked, curious. The detective wasn¡¯t entirely correct ¨C the name was a placeholder for alive people too, whose identity was still unknown. Detective Haytham bared his white teeth, placing both hands on the table and folding his fingers. He tilted his head to the side. ¡°We¡¯ve got ourselves a comedian, huh?¡± he said, his smile fading from his face. Mioray pressed himself against the back of the chair. Maybe he shouldn¡¯t have provoked the detective. Fortunately, his partner finally stepped in. ¡°Don¡¯t pressure him, Chad,¡± she said, moving away from the wall and placing a hand on detective Haytham¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We can work with ¡®John Doe¡¯ for now. Imagine the anecdotes you¡¯ll be able to share if it turns out to be true. Now, tell us, John, where do you live?¡± The lady detective didn¡¯t share her partner¡¯s hostile demeanor, which eased Mioray¡¯s nerves a little. But when he thought about it, he realized they were using the ¡°good cop, bad cop¡± routine on him. Not that it changed much, really. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± Mioray answered briefly. ¡°Uh-uh. And what happened to your arm?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t remember.¡± Detective Lance took a sip of her coffee, her brown eyes fixed on Mioray. He swallowed nervously. No doubt they were catching every word leaving his mouth, ready to use it against him later. Mioray took the easiest way out, deliberately avoiding her first question and sincerely answering her second. Of course, she didn¡¯t believe him either time. He could have given her a made-up address, but they would probably check it, so Mioray decided to play it safe. He wanted them to believe he¡¯d forgotten things due to shock. For better or worse, he wasn¡¯t sweating, and there were no signs of sweat coming out and giving away his nervousness. ¡°Then what do you remember, apart from your name being John Doe?¡± ¡°Not much. I lived my whole life in Reques City. And, uh, did you know that fingerprints are unique to each person? Even twins don¡¯t have identical fingerprints. They¡¯re similar, but not the same.¡± Mioray realized he was only making things worse. Whenever he got nervous, he had a habit of blurting out random facts, and now was definitely not the time for that. But he couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Look, kid,¡± Detective Chad interrupted him, ¡°you better stop playing games. See, things don¡¯t look very good for you right now. A dead guy turning out to be alive? Medicine has come a long way, but I¡¯m not about to believe someone whose body parts were dismembered and scattered across the city somehow stayed alive. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re involved in, with your scars and stitches, but do us a favor and tell us where you hid the body of the young man who was supposed to be in the morgue.¡± ¡°Wait, wait, wait,¡± Mioray was taken aback. So they thought he had something to do with the body¡¯s disappearance? ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything! I woke up just about an hour ago, and I have no idea what happened to me or why I was in the morgue! I don¡¯t even know what day it is today!¡± Detective Lance took another sip of her coffee. ¡°It¡¯s Sunday, the first of September, twenty-two twenty-two.¡± Mioray gasped. September 1st, 2222?! That can¡¯t be right! It meant he was already twenty-one years old. His birthday was just three days ago, on August 29th. You¡¯d think he¡¯d remember that. Although, some memories were beginning to return... ¡°The body of our John Doe, or rather its parts, excluding the left arm, were found a few hours ago,¡± Detective Lance continued. ¡°It was established that he died around midnight, between August 29th and 30th. There hasn¡¯t been a missing person report matching his description yet.¡± August 29th. On that day, Mioray had been planning to have a birthday party with his friends. But something had happened to ruin those plans, and the party was canceled. What happened next? He tried to recall, but the memories eluded him. He wished it was just a nightmare. He even pinched himself, but, of course, he didn¡¯t wake up, nor did he feel anything. The missing body belonged to someone who died three days ago. Just when Mioray¡¯s memory was blank, coincidentally. Maybe it wasn¡¯t a coincidence. Maybe he had encountered someone who looked like him and that person got killed, their body dismembered. He couldn¡¯t explain it any other way, but he just needed to figure out the details. Mioray was sure he hadn¡¯t hidden any bodies. Then again, he was the only one in the morgue. Without his left arm, and yet, in his hazy memories, it had been intact. So what happened? Who died? How? Why? These questions swirled in his mind, making him restless. He wanted to get out of this place, to breathe fresh air and clear his head. He wanted to forget this ever happened. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± he asked warily. In the back of his mind, he realized it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d asked that question, though before it had been directed at someone else and meant something different. ¡°Have you heard about the Dismantler?¡± Detective Lance continued her own line of questioning, ignoring what Mioray said. ¡°The serial killer?¡± Of course Mioray had heard of him. Only someone living under a rock wouldn¡¯t know about the Dismantler. Or someone from another city. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s all over the news. He¡¯s killed a dozen people in the past few months.¡± The air around him grew more ominous. Mioray didn¡¯t like where this was heading. It felt like a trap, but not one laid by the detectives. Something more sinister was closing in on him. Has anyone checked the entire basement where the morgue was located? Was the missing body in one of the other rooms? What if it would never be found, because there was no other body? The truth could be much simpler. Just admit that Mioray was the one who had been killed, dismembered, and scattered across the city, then stitched back together, minus his left arm. Sounds plausible, right? ¡°Sixteen people. Sixteen dead by the Dismantler,¡± Detective Haytham corrected Mioray. ¡°Roughly one person every four days. And that lunatic is still on the loose. Our guys are exhausted from collecting his victims¡¯ body parts almost every day. It¡¯s slowing down the investigation of other cases, you know? There¡¯s practically a bounty on his head on the streets. It¡¯s not just the police after him, every criminal in the city wants him caught too. They can¡¯t run their illegal business with everyone on high alert.¡± Mioray felt an unpleasant itch on the stump of his left arm. The twisted murderer, nicknamed the Dismantler for his gruesome modus operandi of killing victims, dismembering them, and scattering their body parts ¨C head, torso, legs, and right arm ¨C throughout the city, never leaving a left arm behind. The Dismantler had appeared out of nowhere two months ago and immediately dominated the headlines. People felt unsafe, avoiding desolated streets and traveling alone at night. The police were under immense pressure to capture him; authorities promised swift justice, while the opposition blamed the failure to stop the killings on those in power. Despite precautions, people kept dying. With Mioray potentially being one of them. He had mysteriously lost his left arm and skipped his own birthday party, ending up somewhere else entirely. "But what does this have to do with me?" Mioray asked, more to himself than to the detectives. "You tell us," Detective Haytham said, pointing a finger at him. "The latest of the Dismantler''s victims was in the middle of an autopsy, and now the body''s gone. And you, an intruder, were found near the scene. What were you doing here? Hiding evidence of a crime?" ¡°I get how it looks,¡± Mioray said, feeling the tension rise, ¡°but I can''t be the Dismantler''s accomplice. Look at me. How could I hide a body with one arm? Ask the pathologist. There wasn¡¯t even enough time between him going on a break and me being brought to the nurse.¡± ¡°Well, maybe you''re not the accomplice, but someone else is. Wouldn¡¯t that be poetic? A guy loses his arm in some accident and starts killing innocent people, collecting their left arms as trophies.¡± ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡± Mioray forced a smile, but both detectives remained stone-faced. ¡°Wait, you can¡¯t possibly think that I am him? You really think I am the Dismantler? Come on, you can¡¯t be serious!¡± "Prove to us you''re not," Detective Lance said calmly. Her tone suggested she didn¡¯t fully believe it, but she wasn¡¯t ruling it out either. "Why are you really here, John?" Mioray wanted to howl. If only he knew! The most absurd explanation was starting to feel like the truth. He¡¯d been killed by the Dismantler and somehow brought back to life. He didn¡¯t know whether the killer followed some twisted logic in choosing victims or if his targets were just unlucky. Three days had passed since the last thing Mioray remembered. His parents hadn¡¯t heard from him in all that time, yet the detectives said there were no reports of him missing. Did that mean his parents expected him to come back, even after whatever had happened between them? They couldn¡¯t possibly know that the Dismantler put his ¨C or her ¨C eyes on their son, approached him and killed him. The thought was surreal. Mioray shook his head to clear it. He wasn¡¯t dead, not yet anyway. All he had to do was come up with some plausible theory for how a body vanished from the morgue and how he ended up there. Anything would do. It wasn¡¯t his job to solve this mystery, that was for the detectives. But there they were, across the table, waiting for him to break. They weren¡¯t going to let him go. That much was clear now. Even if they didn¡¯t believe Mioray was the Dismantler, they were convinced he had done something wrong. He regretted not running away before detectives arrived. If he had known how this interrogation would turn out, he¡¯d never have sat obediently, waiting to be questioned. Never in his wildest dreams had Mioray thought they would link him to the Dismantler. In hindsight, it explained everything ¨C the detectives¡¯ cautious approach, the fear from the hospital staff. They weren¡¯t terrified because Mioray had seemingly come back from the dead. They thought he was the Dismantler or at least involved with him. But that didn¡¯t make sense! There was no news about the Dismantler having followers. Mioray closed his eyes, trying to focus on his fragmented memories. Maybe the answer was buried there, somewhere painful and hidden. He had to dig deep, no matter how much it hurt. He needed to know. cHApTEr 1. rEsT in piEcEs (3 of 3) ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± Mioray asked, almost automatically, the words spilling out before he could fully comprehend what he had just heard or even what he was saying. It was the evening of August 29th, Mioray''s twenty-first birthday. He was now officially the age of majority. He should have been happy about it. In fact, he had been, right up until now. But the news he¡¯d just received was devastating, completely overshadowing the joy of the day. His parents sat beside him on the sofa. His dad gently wrapped an arm around his mom¡¯s shoulders while she held Mioray¡¯s hand. The worry etched into their faces made it clear this announcement hadn¡¯t been easy for them, but Mioray couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. His blood was boiling, and a hollow ache opened up inside his chest, suffocating him. Life wasn¡¯t fair. His entire life had been a lie. A moment ago, he¡¯d believed everything was fine with his family. But now? Now he knew the truth. He was adopted. The people sitting beside him were not really his parents. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± Mioray repeated, his voice now cold as ice. He had always had a healthy, loving relationship with his parents, but suddenly, these two people beside him felt like total strangers. ¡°Mioray,¡± his father began, shifting uncomfortably, ¡°your mother and I agreed long ago that we would tell you the truth when you were older. You have to understand, it was never our intention to deceive you.¡± ¡°And yet you did,¡± Mioray snapped, yanking his hand away from his mother¡¯s and standing up, his movements sharp with anger. ¡°You didn¡¯t want to lie to me, so you made my whole life a lie instead?¡± He didn¡¯t even know why he was so angry. He had never felt this upset before. Deep down, a part of him knew he shouldn¡¯t hate his parents. My adoptive parents, he corrected himself bitterly. They had always been there for him, had always loved him. But right now, he couldn¡¯t think rationally. He felt like a small, frightened animal. ¡°Mioray, no. It¡¯s not like that,¡± his mother pleaded, her voice soft with worry. ¡°This doesn¡¯t change how we feel about you. You¡¯re our son, and we love you with all our hearts. We didn¡¯t tell you before because we wanted you to have a happy, carefree childhood. We never wanted to hurt you. But you have a right to know the truth, and we didn¡¯t want to keep it from you forever.¡± Mioray grabbed his hair in frustration: ¡°Maybe it doesn¡¯t change anything for you, but it changes everything for me!¡± he shouted. ¡°What did you expect?! Is this your idea of a birthday present? Well, thanks a lot! I don¡¯t even know where to start. I feel betrayed. By you, by whoever my biological parents are, by the whole world, really! What do you even know about them? Why did they leave me? No, you know what, screw it! This is just too much. I can¡¯t do this right now.¡± He turned and rushed toward the apartment door. ¡°Mioray, where are you going?¡± his dad called after him, hurrying to follow. ¡°What does it matter to you?¡± Mioray was already at the door to the building¡¯s hallway. ¡°Just leave me alone!¡± ¡°Mioray, please, don¡¯t do anything stupid. I understand if you need time to process this, but please, don¡¯t just leave. Your mother and I will be worried. We can go if you need space, just¡­ Please, stay safe.¡± Mioray didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t stop for a second as he bolted down the staircase to the exit. He vaguely heard his dad¡¯s voice calling after him, asking him to come home safely, but calling that place home no longer made sense to him. Not now. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. His life had been turned upside down in a matter of seconds. Would it ever feel normal again? Outside, the clear sky was brushed with soft pink hues, and the sun had just begun to graze the rooftops of the city¡¯s tallest buildings. End of the summer meant that the days were still much longer than the nights. Mioray wandered aimlessly, without a destination in mind. Earlier, he¡¯d had plans to meet up with his friends for a birthday celebration, but now, the thought of partying felt unbearable. All he could think about was the mystery of his real parents. Why had they abandoned him? Were they drug addicts? Had they died? Or had they just not wanted him? The possibilities raced through his mind, each one more painful than the last. It didn¡¯t really matter what the answer was. Even if his adoptive parents knew the truth, it wouldn¡¯t ease the pain, it would only make the wound deeper. Mioray wasn¡¯t living his life anymore. His own life had been cut short long ago, and he had been living someone else¡¯s ever since. After a while, Mioray realized he had wandered almost to the far end of the city. The sun was no longer visible on the horizon, though it was still bright out. He didn¡¯t have his phone with him, so he could only guess how much time had passed. Probably a couple of hours. Mioray had cooled down a bit, but he wasn¡¯t ready to head home just yet. It was still his birthday, after all. A small celebration, even if it was just by himself, wouldn¡¯t hurt. No one would understand how he felt right now anyway. Better to entertain himself. He glanced around and noticed a small bar with darkened windows and a neon sign above it that read: At Life¡¯s End. Mioray snorted. Well, that¡¯s an optimistic name for a bar, he thought. Who would want to visit a place like this? Probably only those who feel desperate or doomed. Just like me today. The moment he saw the sign, he felt a strange pull toward the bar, as if he had to find out what it offered. He looked both ways before crossing the street, but there weren¡¯t any cars. The street was eerily empty, not even a passerby in sight. No birds chirping, only the faint buzz of the flickering neon sign. It looked like it hadn¡¯t been changed in years, fittingly at life¡¯s end. Humoring himself, Mioray entered the bar. Right away, the atmosphere felt outdated, like a place lost in time or removed from reality. He carefully made his way to the counter, avoiding eye contact with the few other patrons present. They went silent the moment he stepped in, all eyes turning to inspect the unfamiliar face. The bar was much larger than it had appeared from the outside, with barely any lighting, giving it a shadowy, almost surreal ambiance. It felt like an eternity before Mioray reached the bar stand. The bartender had her back to him, quietly polishing crystal glasses. ¡°I¡¯m listening. How can I help?¡± she asked in a slow, soothing voice as she turned to face him. Mioray was momentarily stunned by what he saw. The bartender was striking, her entire look defined by sharp black-and-white contrasts. She wore a crisp white shirt, neatly tucked into a short black skirt, with a loose black bowtie hanging from her neck. An unbuttoned black vest added a touch of elegance. Her waist-length hair was a lustrous black, shimmering with subtle violet undertones under the dim light. It cascaded down her back in sleek, smooth waves, though a few strands rebelliously stuck out. A fringe of bangs framed her forehead, drawing attention to her heart-shaped face. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and Mioray¡¯s heart began to race, his pulse quickening. He could imagine watching her for hours, mesmerized by the way she worked ¨C or even just stood there, smiling at him with her half-lidded eyes. He knew he wouldn¡¯t get bored. But that kind of moment ¨C just the two of them, alone ¨C would only be possible in a world where no one else existed. As long as there were others, they¡¯d always find a way to intrude. ¡°What are you staring at, weirdo? See a ghost or something?¡± one of the patrons yelled, causing the others to burst into laughter. ¡°If you¡¯re not going to order anything, then get lost!¡± Mioray tore his gaze away from the bartender with great difficulty. He noticed there was another bartender present, watching him, but it wasn¡¯t him who had yelled. Glancing around, Mioray took in the bar again, and this time, he felt a more ominous vibe. The patrons didn¡¯t look friendly at all. There was a dangerous edge to them. There were more people than he¡¯d initially realized, and they were a strange, diverse group. At one table, two men sat, one of them sporting a jagged scar that ran across his nose. Nearby, a middle-aged woman puffed on a thick cigar, flanked by two younger men who looked identical, likely twins. Mioray even spotted a young girl, no older than thirteen, sitting with a man dressed like a monk. Probably her father, Mioray hoped. And finally, there was a group of six who looked rough, like criminals. Mioray wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they were all armed. The guy who¡¯d shouted at him was probably right. Maybe he should just leave. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to them,¡± a soft voice whispered in his ear. He flinched as the bartender¡¯s warm breath tickled his skin. She had leaned across the bar toward him, her hand gently but firmly grasping his. She wasn¡¯t letting go, and he wasn¡¯t trying to pull away. ¡°I won¡¯t let them lay a finger on you. Just pick your poison, and I¡¯ll grant you your wish.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears. Mioray had tried alcohol before, but he wasn¡¯t sure what to order now. Pure drinks weren¡¯t to his taste, and as for cocktails he knew next to nothing. Maybe a beer? But there were so many kinds... The bartender waited patiently, a small smile playing on her red lips. She¡¯d promised to protect him from the others, but Mioray wasn¡¯t so sure about that. He got his first warning, but he still found himself speechless. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she said slyly, still smiling. ¡°If you¡¯re not sure, I can suggest something. Just tell me a little about yourself.¡± ¡°Well...¡± He felt a few beads of sweat slide down his forehead. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Did you know that in a group of twenty-three people, there¡¯s a fifty percent chance that at least two of them share the same birthday?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯ve never heard that before,¡± she replied, her interest piqued. ¡°Yeah... but there are only sixteen people here, so I guess that doesn¡¯t work,¡± Mioray paused, then awkwardly asked, ¡°Is it your birthday today?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± she said with a teasing smile. ¡°No? Well, it¡¯s mine, actually.¡± ¡°Is that so? Then we definitely have to celebrate,¡± she winked, reaching for a glass. ¡°I¡¯ll make you something special. What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Mioray.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Mioray. My name is Erinel.¡± By her appearance, Erinel looked older than Mioray, probably by about ten years. Yet, she spoke to him as an equal, her friendliness putting him at ease. Mioray felt the need to step up, to act confident. There was no reason to feel awkward. While he tried to bolster his own resolve, Erinel moved to the back, retrieving the necessary bottles from a shelf lined with colorful glass. With the counter no longer obstructing her, he noticed the sleek black tights and gleaming heels that completed her look. Bottles in hand, Erinel returned to the counter, busying herself with his drink and humming an unfamiliar melody. The tune was oddly soothing, like it was designed to calm him. By the time she finished, Mioray had forgotten about the storm of emotions he¡¯d been wrestling with earlier. He was captivated, drawn into the warmth of her hazel eyes, which glimmered with subtle hints of gold. ¡°Here you go, Corpse Reviver No. 2,¡± Erinel said, placing a glass with an inverted cone-shaped bowl in front of him, garnished with a bright orange wedge. The drink was a cloudy, pale yellow, reminding him of lemon juice. ¡°I have a feeling you¡¯ll like it.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Mioray murmured, taking a tentative sip. The flavor was a perfect balance of sweet and sour, with a strong hint of citrus. It did taste like lemon, just as he expected. The alcohol, though present, was mild, barely noticeable. He could easily imagine himself downing five or six more of these. So, why are you alone on your birthday?¡± Erinel asked once Mioray had finished his first drink. By then, he felt relaxed, so much so that he had tuned out the bar¡¯s other patrons. The occasional bursts of laughter, shouts, or even threats didn¡¯t seem to reach him anymore. It was as if the rest of the bar existed in a different reality, separate from the one he and Erinel now shared. When other patrons wanted a drink, they went to the male bartender, never bothering Erinel. Almost as if they sensed the unspoken boundary, reluctant to intrude. ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Mioray replied, even though it wasn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t want to burden her with his problems or appear like a sad little boy seeking pity. ¡°But it¡¯s not a big deal. You were right, I really like the drink. What did you call it again? Corpse Reviver No. 2? What happened to the first one?¡± ¡°Nothing dramatic,¡± Erinel said with a soft, bittersweet smile. ¡°It¡¯s just a variation of the original. But no one really remembers how it¡¯s made anymore. After all, this cocktail was created almost three hundred years ago.¡± She touched a finger on her left hand, and Mioray noticed a ring, a large jewel the size of a walnut that glowed faintly, almost ghostly. The ring didn¡¯t quite fit her otherwise elegant image. It seemed out of place. Why would Erinel wear something like this? She didn¡¯t strike him as someone lacking in taste. Perhaps the ring held sentimental value. ¡°It¡¯s a gift from a friend,¡± she said unexpectedly, her voice soft. ¡°What?¡± Mioray jolted slightly. How long had he been staring at her ring? He tried to compose himself but realized he must have been gawking for a while. ¡°The ring. It¡¯s ugly, isn¡¯t it?¡± Erinel smiled, twirling the oversized jewel. ¡°But it¡¯s grown on me. I don¡¯t think I could ever take it off.¡± ¡°Must be from someone special.¡± ¡°Yes, very dear,¡± she said quietly, taking his empty cocktail glass. ¡°We probably won¡¯t meet again.¡± Her voice lingered on those last words for just a second. ¡°Care for another drink?¡± The bar was now immersed in the slow, sultry notes of jazz, the music curling through the air like smoke. Mioray didn¡¯t hesitate this time, watching as Erinel prepared the next cocktail with the same meticulous care. Her focus was intense, as though she was crafting more than just a drink. It was her magnum opus. Her pupils dilated as she measured each pour with precision. That¡¯s when it hit Mioray ¨C he didn¡¯t have any money on him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s all on me,¡± Erinel laughed, her voice melodic and perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the music. ¡°Consider it my gift to you.¡± Mioray thanked her, feeling a bit awkward. ¡°But how do you know I¡¯m not lying about it being my birthday?¡± he asked. ¡°I don¡¯t even have my ID on me. I could be underage.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re not,¡± she replied smoothly, setting the drink in front of him. ¡°And I don¡¯t think you¡¯re lying.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Just a hunch.¡± Erinel gently brushed his cheek. The warmth of her touch sent a surge of heat through him. ¡°You don¡¯t seem like a man who¡¯d lie to me. Right?¡± ¡°I guess,¡± Mioray stammered, though he wasn¡¯t sure if the words even came out. His breath had caught in his throat. ¡°See?¡± she smiled, her lips curling in that familiar, captivating way. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t worry about it. Just enjoy your time here. It¡¯s not like you have anywhere else to be, do you?¡± Mioray was feeling a little dizzy after two drinks, and now guilt weighed on him as he remembered storming out on his adoptive parents in anger. They had done nothing wrong, and it wasn¡¯t their fault that they weren¡¯t his biological parents. They had raised him well, with love and care, providing him with everything he needed. He couldn¡¯t stay mad at them. He had no right to. ¡°Actually...¡± the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he needed to return home. ¡°What time is it?¡± ¡°Just after eleven. Why?¡± There was no clock in the bar, and Erinel hadn¡¯t checked a watch or phone, but Mioray believed her. There was no reason for her to lie. It wasn¡¯t like she had anything to gain from it. That aside, it was getting late, and for the past couple of months, wandering around at night hadn¡¯t been safe. There were rumors of a serial killer on the loose, nicknamed ¡°The Dismantler.¡± Mioray wasn¡¯t eager to encounter him on the street. ¡°I think it¡¯s time for me to go,¡± he said. ¡°Thank you for the drinks, Erinel. It was nice to meet you.¡± ¡°You too, Mioray.¡± He glanced around the bar. Despite how long they had been talking, the other patrons were still sitting in their places, minding their own business. Were they here just for appearances? Nobody else had come into the bar after Mioray, so it wasn¡¯t crowded. The perfect spot for conducting shady business. He had no doubts that the people here were some sort of criminals. Well, except for Erinel, obviously. She was just the bartender. And the other bartender too, he supposed. ¡°Is it always like this?¡± Mioray asked. ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like you get many customers. And the ones who are here... well, they look dubious, to say the least.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s what you mean,¡± Erinel chuckled. ¡°Though we don¡¯t get many customers, we value the ones we do. When someone comes in, they usually stay forever.¡± That sounded a bit dark, but it made sense in context. Mioray would certainly love to come back again. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see each other again soon,¡± Erinel said after Mioray mentioned wanting to return. ¡°After all, we met ¡®At life¡¯s end¡¯.¡± She had a quirky sense of humor, but Mioray didn¡¯t mind. He said goodbye to Erinel and quickly made his way to the exit, trying not to make eye contact with the other patrons. He felt uneasy around them when Erinel wasn¡¯t nearby, but that didn¡¯t stop him from deciding that he would definitely come back. Erinel had made quite an impression on him, and he already felt her presence filling his heart. The fact that she was older didn¡¯t matter. They were both adults, after all. Outside, the sky had turned dark, and the dim street lamps did little to illuminate the road. There was no one around ¨C an ideal setting for the Dismantler to begin his hunt. Mioray quickened his pace, eager to get to a busier part of the city, somewhere with people even at this hour. It was silly to think he might encounter the infamous killer tonight, but better to be safe than sorry. On his way home, he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about Erinel and their next meeting. It would probably be at the bar again, since he¡¯d been too flustered to ask for her phone number or suggest grabbing coffee sometime. Well, what¡¯s done is done, he thought. He could only hope for a second chance to make a better impression. She hadn¡¯t seemed bothered by him at all, and it felt like she¡¯d enjoyed their conversation. Then again, she could have just been doing her job. He was a customer, after all. But she hadn¡¯t asked him to leave, even though he hadn¡¯t paid for the drinks, which meant she didn¡¯t mind his company... right? It¡¯s always hard to know if someone¡¯s sending signals or just being polite. But it wouldn¡¯t hurt to find out. If Erinel wasn¡¯t interested, she could tell Mioray, and he¡¯d respect that. For now, it was enough to know that someone like her existed. He didn¡¯t know much about her, but Erinel seemed nice and interesting. Just thinking about the possibilities of their friendship made him happy. He definitely wanted to see her again, and sooner rather than later. One thing, though, wouldn¡¯t leave his mind: her ring. Erinel had said it was a gift from someone dear, but that could mean anything. It would be a shame if she already had a boyfriend or a husband. Not that it was a bad thing by itself, but it would mean she was off-limits, and Mioray wouldn¡¯t be able to ask her out. He wanted it to work out so badly. He¡¯d never felt this way before, even though they¡¯d only just met. Her smile, her warm hazel eyes, her violet-tinged black hair with its few rebellious strands... Erinel¡¯s image was burned into his memory. Mioray was so lost in thought that he didn¡¯t notice the sound of footsteps behind him until it was too late. A sudden, sharp pain struck the back of his head, and for a split second, he thought his skull had cracked. Then everything went dark. An all-consuming blackness swallowed him whole, pulling him away from consciousness, from the world, from everything. cHApTEr 2. oncE upon A TimE (1 of 3) And that¡¯s how Mioray ended up here, back to the present. There was a blank space between him fainting and waking up in the hospital morgue. Someone had hit him on the head. The next thing he remembered was the morgue. And the shocking discovery that his left arm was missing, while other parts of his body had been sewn together like some sort of monstrous creation. Whatever had happened, it happened in those three days he¡¯d lost. But something didn¡¯t add up. Mioray touched the back of his head. If someone had really hit him there, wouldn¡¯t there be a wound, or at least a lump? He felt nothing suspicious. Could he have just imagined it? Maybe the part where someone followed him at night and attacked him wasn¡¯t real. Perhaps he¡¯d lost consciousness for some other reason, and that¡¯s when the Dismantler took advantage of him. Or maybe it was someone impersonating the Dismantler, enjoying the sick game. After all, the real Dismantler killed his victims. Mioray was still alive. The logic was simple. Still, the question loomed: who had done this to him? Was it somebody from the bar he¡¯d visited, At Life¡¯s End? There had been fifteen people there besides him. He could already rule out Erinel. She wouldn¡¯t try to kill him¡­ would she? No, of course not. She¡¯d been so kind! Then again, sometimes the kindest people turned out to have the worst intentions. But not Erinel. There was no reason to suspect her when there were fourteen other possible culprits. And that was only if it was someone from the bar. What if it was someone else entirely? ¡°Are you still with us, Johny?¡± Detective Haytham¡¯s voice broke the silence as he waved a hand in front of Mioray¡¯s face. ¡°Still planning to keep playing games with us?¡± Mioray didn¡¯t respond. He had already made things worse by trying to distance himself from this nightmare, lying to the detectives, and now they suspected he was somehow involved with the Dismantler, maybe even as an accomplice. It was a foolish thing he did, but he¡¯d just felt too overwhelmed. ¡°We¡¯re getting nowhere, Haytham,¡± Detective Lance muttered, briefly checking her phone. ¡°It¡¯s late. I want some sleep before morning. Let¡¯s take him to the precinct and continue tomorrow.¡± Mioray clenched his teeth. No matter how he looked at it, there was no escape. This was his life now, and he would have to face it. Something horrible had happened. He¡¯d woken up in the morgue. He might have even been dead for a while. And his parents still had no idea. ¡°Can I make a call?¡± he asked. ¡°It can wait until morning,¡± Detective Haytham replied, brushing off his request. ¡°Maybe after a long night behind bars, you¡¯ll change your mind and spill everything.¡± ¡°You have no right to do this!¡± ¡°You¡¯re not giving us much to work with, John,¡± Detective Lance sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll need to take your fingerprints and DNA to confirm your identity, to see if you really are who you say you are. And Haytham, while we¡¯re here at the hospital, could you check with the pathologist to make sure there hasn¡¯t been any mix-up? I¡¯m not fully convinced the dead man actually looked exactly like John here. Maybe they have photos? We¡¯ll have some at the station from the scenes where body parts were found, but it¡¯d be useful to have those where the body is intact.¡± ¡°Sure thing, Lance. We don¡¯t want to miss any details. Especially if we finally get a shot at catching the Dismantler. How I hate that bastard! He¡¯s made our lives hell.¡± Detective Lance scanned through some files while Detective Haytham headed out to speak with the hospital staff. ¡°Listen, I¡¯ll tell you everything,¡± Mioray pleaded. ¡°Just please, you have to believe me! I¡¯m not the Dismantler, and I¡¯m not helping him. My real name is¨C¡± The door suddenly opened, and an unfamiliar woman wandered inside. ¡°Oh, great!¡± the woman said with visible relief. ¡°I got here just in time!¡± From one look at her, Mioray could tell she was someone important. She had short, sleek blonde hair that fell just above her shoulders, neatly parted to one side and tucked behind her ears. She wore a crisp white blouse with a short red tie and deep navy blue pants. She stood tall, radiating confidence and authority. The woman smiled kindly, though her smile carried a certain edge, hinting she was not someone to be trifled with. ¡°In time for what, exactly?¡± Detective Haytham sounded confused, evidently not getting the same sense of presence from the woman as Mioray did. ¡°To catch up with all of you, of course!¡± she replied, adjusting her round glasses. She looked directly at Mioray, her tone softening. ¡°Ah, poor young man! It¡¯s such a tragedy that you lost your arm.¡± The detectives exchanged a glance, both visibly puzzled. It was clear that neither of them knew this woman or had seen her before. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but who exactly are you, and how did you learn about what happened here?¡± Detective Lance¡¯s tone was tinged with hostility. ¡°My name is Reyna Kayree. Pleased to meet you.¡± She extended a hand to the detectives, but neither reciprocated. Lowering her hand, her smile widened with a hint of something predatory. ¡°And you must be Detectives Natalie Lance and Chad Haytham, correct? I¡¯ve heard many good things about you. People like you are the reason we can sleep peacefully at night.¡± ¡°Not in the last couple of months,¡± Detective Lance replied dryly, unimpressed by the flattery. ¡°So, you know who we are and that we¡¯re detectives. I can¡¯t say I know as much about you, though, Reyna Kayree.¡± The woman took out an identification card from her pocket, holding it up for both detectives to see. Mioray couldn¡¯t make out the details, but he noticed a flash of dissatisfaction in Detective Lance¡¯s expression. ¡°And what does someone like you have to do with our case?¡± Detective Lance grumbled, her tone laced with irritation. She clearly knew exactly who Reyna Kayree was working for. ¡°But the question remains. How did you even hear something happened here? And what, exactly, do you think happened?¡± For a brief moment, Mioray thought he saw a dark shadow flicker across Reyna¡¯s face. Then it was gone, and she was smiling again, almost angelic, like a bright ornament on a Winterlight Festival tree. ¡°I heard that a body disappeared from the morgue, supposedly one of the Dismantler¡¯s victims,¡± she said nonchalantly, as if describing an ordinary Tuesday trip to the office. ¡°And it seems you suspect this young man here is at fault. What¡¯s his name, by the way?¡± ¡°My name is¨C¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell her anything,¡± Detective Haytham warned, cutting Mioray off. He turned to Reyna. ¡°Look, lady, I don''t know what business you and your people have with the Dismantler¡¯s case, but I¡¯d advise you to leave.¡± ¡°Wait, Haytham, don¡¯t let her off that easily.¡± Detective Lance stepped in front of the door, blocking it as if by accident. ¡°If Reyna knows something, we should find out. Right, Reyna? Will you finally tell us how you came by this information?¡± ¡°It¡¯s quite simple, really,¡± Reyna replied with a shrug, feigning innocence. ¡°Your captain informed me about the incident, and after a discussion, he agreed this case should be handed over to me and my department. I¡¯m here to take custody of this young man.¡± Her tone suggested that this was self-evident and not open to question. Reyna had carefully chosen her words, revealing nothing about who she was or her exact authority, yet somehow conveying that it might be unwise to challenge her. The detectives seemed momentarily taken aback, uncertain how to respond. Reyna Kayree carried herself like someone powerful, someone who wielded her authority without needing to justify it. ¡°This is the first I¡¯m hearing of it,¡± Detective Lance said, raising a brow. ¡°The boy¡¯s coming with us to the precinct.¡± ¡°My name is¨C¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°I understand your concerns, Detective Lance,¡± Reyna interrupted smoothly, ¡°but this is now outside your jurisdiction. If you have any questions, feel free to consult your captain.¡± Internally, Mioray fumed. Was he being punished for something? Now that he was finally ready to tell them the truth, he kept getting interrupted. Well, it wasn¡¯t his fault anymore. If they couldn¡¯t listen, that was on them, not him. ¡°Trust me, I will,¡± Detective Lance replied coolly. At this moment, it was a duel between her and Reyna Kayree, while Detective Haytham silently moved behind Mioray, observing both women and not daring to chime in. ¡°But only in the morning, and only after we¡¯ve identified this man and questioned him.¡± ¡°I believe you¡¯ve already questioned him, and he¡¯s given you all the answers you need. Isn¡¯t that right?¡± Reyna responded smoothly. To be perfectly honest, Mioray had given the detectives absolutely nothing. He averted his gaze, longing to be anywhere but here. Any place that wasn¡¯t a police station sounded better. Although he didn¡¯t know who this woman was, she at least didn¡¯t seem to suspect him of being a killer or a corpse thief. ¡°See?¡± Reyna concluded, her tone almost dismissive. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else for you to do here.¡± She moved as if to approach Mioray, but Detective Lance blocked her path. ¡°We¡¯re not finished here,¡± Lance¡¯s voice was like steel. ¡°If you want to take him, you¡¯ll need to show me every piece of documentation proving this case is being handed over to you.¡± ¡°Oh, Natalie, must you make everything so difficult?¡± ¡°I¡¯m just doing my job, and it seems to me you¡¯re doing yours poorly,¡± Detective Lance shot back. ¡°I¡¯d much sooner let the boy talk to a proper lawyer than hand him over to you.¡± ¡°Would it help if I said I could be his lawyer?¡± Reyna replied, her voice dripping with irony. ¡°No. But now that I think about it, maybe we should bring you in for questioning too. It wouldn¡¯t be against protocol.¡± ¡°That would be a grave mistake, Detective.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not for you to decide.¡± Detective Lance narrowed her eyes. ¡°Everyone assumes the Dismantler is working alone, but who knows? What if it¡¯s actually a group of criminals? You, Reyna Kayree, could be part of it. How does my theory sound, Haytham?¡± Detective Haytham cleared his throat, glancing between the two women. ¡°I¡­can¡¯t discount it. We should explore all options,¡± he replied hesitantly. ¡°But we should tread carefully, Lance.¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing more careful than tying up loose ends,¡± Detective Lance replied, unwavering. She faced Reyna head-on, determined to get her way after being provoked. ¡°So, what do you say, Reyna Kayree? Are we taking you down to the precinct, or will you start explaining what you¡¯re really here for?¡± For the first time, Reyna looked irritated. Mioray watched closely, unsure who to trust. On one hand, leaving with Reyna meant not ending up at the police station; on the other, the more she avoided questions, the more suspicious she became. Detective Lance had raised a fair point, what if this woman was somehow connected to the Dismantler? What if she¡¯d come here to finish the job, to kill him, Mioray? He was sure he wasn¡¯t a killer, so he must be the killer¡¯s prey who¡¯d somehow survived. Or perhaps he was another victim of some sick psycho, if the theory about the impersonator checked out. As the two women continued their verbal sparring, Mioray noticed a strange, flowery sweetness filling the air. Faint at first, the scent had slowly intensified until it became overpowering and sickly. He wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed. ¡°What¡¯s that smell?¡± Detective Haytham made a face, grimacing. ¡°What smell?¡± Detective Lance asked, turning toward him. She looked drained, her hand gripping the back of a chair as if to steady herself. ¡°When did it get so stuffy in here? I feel¡­ lightheaded. Reyna¡¯s eyes widened in sudden fear. Covering her nose and mouth, she muttered under her breath, ¡°No, no, no. Why now?¡± Her poise vanished as she frantically looked around, seemingly searching for someone or something. ¡°If it¡¯s what I think¡­ hold your breath as long as you can¨C¡± Before she could finish, Reyna crumpled to the floor, her face nearly hitting the ground if Detective Haytham hadn¡¯t lunged forward to catch her. But seconds later, he too lost consciousness. ¡°Is¡­ this some kind of¡­ sleeping gas?¡± Detective Lance managed to say, her voice barely audible. Mioray could just make out the top of her head as she slumped to the ground behind the table and chair. ¡°Stay here, John¡­ I¡¯ll keep you safe¡­¡± Then he heard a soft thud, and all was silent. The three lay unconscious on the floor, breathing steadily but showing no signs of waking. Mioray stood up, bewildered. Whatever gas or scent had filled the room hadn¡¯t affected him. He felt no dizziness, no drowsiness. Any weakness he¡¯d felt after waking up had already faded. ¡°My name is Mioray,¡± he finally said, but there was nobody left to hear him. He sighed. What did I get myself into? he thought. He could understand being pursued by the police, but Reyna Kayree? The woman was a complete mystery. It was hard to believe she was above the police, but at the same time, she didn¡¯t strike Mioray as the Dismantler or someone close to him. And if she was, getting knocked out by the sleeping gas along with the detectives was a terrible plan. Which raised the question, who did set it off? Detective Lance had ordered him to stay, but Mioray saw this as his chance to break free. They had nothing on him. They didn¡¯t learn his real name, and he¡¯d tried to tell them three times! If Mioray left now, they wouldn¡¯t be able to find him. At least not right away, which would buy him some time. Time he could use to figure out what the heck had happened to him. Maybe he could start by going back to the bar. He glanced at the door and froze. It was slowly opening, revealing another person standing in the hallway, above the unconscious guard lying on the floor, probably also asleep from the gas. Mioray recognized the figure. Same black skirt and unbuttoned vest, same white shirt, black hair with a hint of violet. It was Erinel. She had a pleasant expression as their eyes met, and then, without saying a word, she turned and disappeared down the hallway. ¡°Erinel, wait!¡± Mioray called. No more second thoughts. Like lightning, he ran across the room, forgetting everything else and leaving both detectives and Reyna Kayree behind. He felt a strange sensation inside, as if his heart should have been racing, giving him butterflies, but it wasn¡¯t. His heart didn¡¯t respond. Mioray wasn¡¯t even sure it was still beating. Mioray pressed his fingers to his neck. The pulse was there. Different, but there. Some patients and nurses were wandering around the corner in the hallway, but there was no sign of Erinel. It was almost as if she hadn¡¯t been there a moment ago, as if Mioray had only imagined seeing her. That can¡¯t be right. His legs moved on their own, carrying him past others in the hallway. They said something as he passed, but he wasn¡¯t listening; his thoughts were elsewhere. He was out of the hospital¡¯s restricted area now, so he found the exit easily and stepped outside. The night greeted Mioray. A chilly wind brushed his skin, reminding him that he was wearing only a hospital gown and slippers. Wandering around the city like this was cold, silly, and dangerous. A call for trouble, but he didn¡¯t care. He had, allegedly, met the Dismantler once already. What could be worse than that? Mioray started to run. He was never much of a runner, but surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t as hard as he¡¯d imagined. He didn¡¯t get tired, he didn¡¯t break a sweat. Even his heartbeat remained steady. Deep down, he knew this wasn¡¯t normal, but for now, he was focused on one thing only. At Life¡¯s End. The bar was still in the same place as it had been three days ago, its neon sign faintly illuminating an otherwise dark street. Like last time, the area was deserted ¨C not unusual at this hour, given the circumstances. Mioray went inside. The bar wasn¡¯t empty; a few patrons sat at tables, but none were the people he¡¯d seen the other night. He went straight to the counter. A couple was standing there, obscuring the bartender from view. As Mioray approached, he recognized the bartender. It was the same man who¡¯d worked alongside Erinel. ¡°You look young,¡± the bartender remarked suspiciously, eyeing Mioray while the couple moved away. Maybe something about me scares them, Mioray thought. ¡°Got an ID on you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not here to order anything. Have you seen Erinel around?¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Erinel. She works here. I saw her here three days ago.¡± ¡°Sorry, pal, that name doesn¡¯t ring a bell.¡± ¡°Are you kidding me? You were here, too! I sat right here at the counter and spent the whole evening talking with her!¡± ¡°Wait, I think I remember you,¡± the bartender said, pointing at Mioray. ¡°You were sitting here by yourself. Huh. I remember you having some drinks, but I don¡¯t remember making them. Weird. And you had two arms then. What happened to you, pal?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Mioray replied, frustrated. Why was this bartender messing with him? Of course he wouldn¡¯t remember making the drinks, it was Erinel who made them! ¡°This can¡¯t be right. I¡¯m sure I saw Erinel working here! She made me a cocktail. Corpse Reviver No. 2!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think such a cocktail exists,¡± the bartender replied, his tone hardening. ¡°Same with the girl you mentioned. I¡¯ll have to ask you to leave, or I¡¯ll call the police. You¡¯re disturbing my business.¡± Mioray growled impatiently. Was he imagining things? Was his memory compromised? It couldn¡¯t be. He left the bar, not wanting another run-in with the police, and stopped in the middle of the street. The memories from three nights ago were sharp, vivid ¨C some of the clearest he had. He remembered almost every detail of that night, and Erinel was there in those memories, so how could the bartender claim she wasn¡¯t? With everything that had happened today and a few days prior, it was impossible to tell what was real and what wasn¡¯t. What about the waning half of the moon? Or the red planet that had appeared in the sky a couple of years ago? Were those real, or just figments of his imagination? He could question a whole list of things ¨C the existence of souls, ghosts, other dimensions, life on other planets. The list went on and on. He just didn¡¯t want to question Erinel¡¯s existence. cHApTEr 2. oncE upon A TimE (2 of 3) Mioray felt he had reached an impasse. How long had he been standing there in the street, spacing out? At some point, the couple he¡¯d noticed at the bar had left, throwing suspicious glances his way before hurrying off. This forced Mioray to go in the opposite direction. Even though the street was nearly deserted, it was only a matter of time before someone called the police on him, considering how he was dressed in a hospital gown and slippers and the way he was behaving. He could easily be mistaken for the real Dismantler. But he didn¡¯t know where to go. Now, out of the hospital, Mioray was afraid to go straight home. Before, he¡¯d lied to himself. He had escaped from the detectives, and maybe they wouldn¡¯t find him now, but he couldn¡¯t entirely forget the incident. He looked down at his arm, or rather, where it used to be. He couldn¡¯t ignore the fact his arm was missing, he couldn¡¯t pretend it was still there. Wherever he went, questions would follow. What happened to him? How had he lost his arm? Mioray needed answers. But he didn¡¯t have any, and so he couldn¡¯t go home. He couldn¡¯t face his parents, not after everything that had happened, not after he¡¯d stormed out in a childish rage upon learning he was adopted, instead of taking it like an adult. But if he was an adult, why did he still feel like a kid? Mom and Dad had tried to calm him. They¡¯d asked him to stay home. They were even considering leaving to give him some space, but he wouldn¡¯t listen. They¡¯d begged him to stay safe, and he couldn¡¯t do that. It was as if he¡¯d defied them just to spite them. No, he couldn¡¯t make them go through this. He had to find a way to deceive the whole world, even himself, that his left arm was still there. And he already had an idea of how to do it. It was a terrible idea, but better than nothing. Mioray continued running through the night, avoiding contact with anyone he passed on the street. Better to keep a low profile. He was heading to the university dormitory where his friend Chris lived. If anyone could help him, it would be Chris. They¡¯d met during their first year at university, and, like Mioray, Chris was studying history. But, unlike Mioray, Chris had connections with all kinds of students across campus, so he could get almost anything he needed. It was incredible, especially since Chris had moved to Reques City just to study; before that, he¡¯d lived in a small town. Yet in two years, he¡¯d experienced the city more than Mioray had in his whole life. When Mioray reached the dormitory grounds, he could tell it was the night of September 1st. Life was in full swing, with music pouring out of open windows. Groups of young people hung around the sports ground, drinking and celebrating. Seeing him, someone enthusiastically invited Mioray to join, saying his costume was sick, even though the Day of the Dead was still far off. Mioray declined politely, dark thoughts clouding his mind. That¡¯s right. It¡¯s not the Day of the Dead. Not yet. He approached the intercom by the dorm entrance, dialed Chris¡¯s room number, and waited, listening to the beeps. He prayed that Chris would be home. Tomorrow ¨C or maybe today, depending on the time ¨C it would be the first day of the semester. Chris might be at a party with his girlfriend, Julie, who studied with them, celebrating the start of the new study year. A minute passed, and the intercom fell silent. Whoever it tried to notify wasn¡¯t there. Or maybe he was, but fast asleep. Mioray dialed Chris¡¯s number again. Again, the beeping sound kept him company. He was thinking about his next steps when a voice suddenly broke through the speaker. ¡°Who the hell is this?¡± The voice was angry and sleepy. Nevertheless, Mioray sighed with relief. ¡°Don¡¯t you get that if nobody answers the first time, it means nobody¡¯s home or they want you to think they¡¯re not?¡± ¡°Hey, Chris, it¡¯s me. Mioray.¡± ¡°Mioray?¡± The anger shifted to surprise. ¡°What are you doing here so late, man? It¡¯s three in the morning!¡± So it was Monday already. ¡°Sure, man, of course. Come on up.¡± A new beep signaled the front door unlocking. Mioray entered and headed up the stairs to Chris¡¯s room on the fourth floor. His friend was waiting in the open doorway, shocked the moment he saw Mioray in the hallway. ¡°Man?!¡± Chris was at a loss for words. It took him a few seconds to remember how to speak. ¡°What the hell happened to you, man?! What kind of trouble did you get into?!¡± His exclamation was louder than Mioray would have liked. He glanced around to make sure no one was coming out to see what the fuss was about. ¡°It¡¯s kind of a long story.¡± ¡°Yeah, it better be!¡± Chris agreed, still loud. He wasn¡¯t usually like this, but seeing his friend in such bad shape would shock anyone. Mioray had expected this reaction. It was exactly why he hadn¡¯t gone back home to his parents. He didn¡¯t want to scare them. But looking at Chris now, standing there in a sky-blue bathrobe with his hair a tousled mess and smelling of alcohol from some party he¡¯d recently left, Mioray suddenly lost his resolve. Should he tell Chris his strange theories about what had happened over the past few hours, theories that seemed too bizarre to be real? He himself wasn¡¯t sure what had really happened. He believed he¡¯d met Erinel at the bar three days ago, but then the bartender said she¡¯d never worked there and he¡¯d never even heard of her. ¡°Well, funny story,¡± Mioray started. ¡°You know how they say planes are safer than cars? It¡¯s not just because fewer people are in the sky than on the roads at any given moment. There are other factors, too. Planes are designed with passenger safety as a priority: seats that can withstand sixteen times the force of gravity, fireproof materials, backup systems to handle failures. Then you have strict regulations, safety checks, and well-trained pilots. And even though cars hover now¨C¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, spare me the details, man.¡± Chris lightly smacked Mioray on the head with the edge of his hand. ¡°Are you telling me you got in a car accident?¡± ¡°Yes. Yes, I did.¡± Another lie, straight to his friend¡¯s face. Chris looked skeptical, but his eyes were still a bit unfocused, so Mioray figured it wouldn¡¯t be too hard to convince him. Who knows, maybe he¡¯d even convince himself that was exactly what happened. ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Chris muttered. ¡°Because after you ditched us at your birthday party and then vanished altogether, I was starting to think maybe the Dismantler got you. And when I saw you just now, I thought, man, he did get to you! Took your arm, but you escaped and ended up in the hospital. Yeah, you getting into an accident makes more sense.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got a wild imagination, Chris,¡± Mioray replied, managing a nervous grin. But was it really so far from the truth? ¡°Anyway, I just need to stay here for the night. I got into a car accident and lost my arm, but my parents don¡¯t know yet. I need to figure out how to keep it from them.¡± ¡°You mean... you want to keep this a secret?¡± Chris pointed, somewhat tactlessly, at Mioray¡¯s stump. ¡°Not to sound rude, but I don¡¯t think you can fool them for even a second. Oh, shit, man!¡± Chris¡¯s face suddenly went pale. ¡°What?!¡± Mioray asked, expecting the worst. ¡°Your parents called me a few days ago, told me what happened, and that you ran off. So, being the good friend I am, I told them you were crashing here for a while.¡± ¡°Wait, so they think I¡¯m here, at your place?¡± ¡°Sounds like it, man.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Mioray couldn¡¯t tell if this was a good thing or a bad thing. At least it explained why his parents hadn¡¯t been out looking for him or reported him missing. A door opening down the hall startled both of them. Mioray and Chris turned to see a girl in a beige bathrobe with a violet towel wrapped around her hair stepping into the hallway, holding shampoo and soap. She was likely heading to the shower. Mioray tried to hide his face and his stump as she walked by, but luckily, she didn¡¯t care to look at him. ¡°Man, sorry, I was so shocked seeing you like this, I forgot to actually let you in.¡± Chris stepped into his room. ¡°Come in. Want anything to eat or drink?¡± It was a little concerning. Mioray had been unconscious for three days and awake for only a few hours, yet he hadn¡¯t felt even slightly hungry or thirsty. It didn¡¯t seem normal. Somehow, he doubted he¡¯d been fed through a tube or IV during his coma. He¡¯d been busy being dismembered. But that last part had to be a delusion. It couldn¡¯t have happened. ¡°No, thanks,¡± he answered, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. Chris¡¯s room was small, just eight square meters. It was supposed to house two people, but Chris had it all to himself, thanks to his parents covering the cost. The room contained a bed, a wooden table cluttered with books and a laptop, a chair, a built-in wardrobe, and a fridge with a microwave on top. Only the essentials, nothing more. Who ever said young adults should live in comfort? In this society, students are expected to make do with the bare minimum, sometimes crammed in with complete strangers. Who needs privacy or personal space, anyway? That was exactly why Mioray had opted to stay with his parents, to have a room all to himself. They couldn¡¯t afford a single dorm room for him like Chris¡¯s parents could. Property and rent prices keep going up like crazy. ¡°You¡¯re sure you don¡¯t want anything?¡± Chris glanced at Mioray¡¯s stitches. ¡°You look pretty beaten up.¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m alright,¡± Mioray replied, settling into the chair. Chris took a bottle of water from the fridge and sat on the bed. ¡°I think your parents are going to kill me,¡± he said, taking a sip. ¡°They¡¯ll realize I lied to them about you when they find out about your accident.¡± ¡°Not if my plan works.¡± ¡°What plan?¡± Mioray smiled, a mysterious glint in his eyes. Yes, it was a terrible plan, indeed. ¡°I could buy one of those prosthetic arms. Now, I know you¡¯d think I can¡¯t afford it because they cost too much and you¡¯d be right. For now, I could just wear a cast and tell everyone my arm is broken.¡± Chris grinned incredulously. ¡°And how long do you plan to pretend it¡¯s broken? A few years? Not suspicious at all, man.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll think of something. For now, I just need a cast,¡± Mioray said, looking at Chris expectantly. After a few seconds of silence, Chris caught on. ¡°Wait, so that¡¯s where I come in? You know I know a guy¡­ Sneaky bastard, man!¡± ¡°Well, your life¡¯s on the line, after all,¡± Mioray laughed. ¡°Do you want my parents to find out or not? With the cast, I could just say I broke it accidentally, let¡¯s say, yesterday. They¡¯ll never know anything about the car accident.¡± Chris didn¡¯t reply, just gave Mioray¡¯s knee an approving slap. He was always this carefree; it probably hadn¡¯t crossed his mind that this could hurt Mioray, given his rough shape. But that was okay. Mioray didn¡¯t feel any pain. Thanks to Chris being friends with everyone, he knew a guy in med school who did some side jobs and would probably be willing to make and sell a cast from under the counter. Without further ado, Chris stood up and called the guy, despite it being three in the morning. Surprisingly, the guy answered, and they started making arrangements. While waiting for Chris to finish his call, Mioray wondered if he should call his parents, but decided there was no rush. They were asleep; no need to wake them up. If all went according to plan, he¡¯d see them in the morning. Of course, they¡¯d be shocked to find out he¡¯d broken his arm, but that was nothing compared to finding out he didn¡¯t have it at all. ¡°Alright, everything¡¯s sorted,¡± Chris said, flopping back onto the bed. ¡°We can see the guy in a few hours, but first, I¡¯d like to get a little more sleep, and you could use some too. Man, I still can¡¯t believe it. You got hit by a car, lost your arm¡­ How are you so calm? I¡¯d be losing my mind.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mioray replied, standing up and looking out the window. In the night, he could just make out the outlines of pine trees under the orange glow of the streetlamps. There was a nice, small grove near the dormitory. ¡°I was just crossing the street, and the car appeared out of nowhere. I went into a coma for three days, and when I woke up, I was already like this. And yeah, you could say I freaked out, because I ran away from the hospital.¡± A simple lie, easy enough to pass for the truth. Mioray was trying to convince himself more than Chris, and it seemed to be working. Detectives, Reyna Kayree ¨C it felt like the interrogation never happened. ¡°Damn, man, in a coma! Running away from the hospital! What else are you hiding? Maybe you even met a girl at a bar?¡± ¡°Well, actually¡­¡± A smile played at the corners of Mioray¡¯s lips as he remembered Erinel and her hazel eyes. Had she been at the bar and at the hospital? He couldn¡¯t be sure, but he wished he could meet her again. ¡°No way, man, no way!¡± Chris laughed, spilling some water as he waved his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t believe what I¡¯m hearing! So much for the holy boy act!¡± Mioray frowned. He didn¡¯t like the nickname, but how could he explain that to Chris? His friend found it amusing. Mioray had earned it in their first year when he¡¯d turned down a beer at a party. He hadn¡¯t drunk alcohol before enrolling in the university. That small hesitation was enough to earn skeptical looks from his classmates, but the final nail in the coffin was when they found out he¡¯d never had a girlfriend. It didn¡¯t help that Mioray had actually had a crush on Julie since he¡¯d first met her. Before he knew it, she¡¯d started seeing Chris, with whom he¡¯d since become close friends. He¡¯d never told a soul about it. At first, he didn¡¯t believe they¡¯d last; Julie was modest and studious, while Chris was easygoing and always looking for excitement. But somehow, they fit, and their relationship had blossomed for almost two years now. Mioray was a little jealous, but he was perfectly fine with Julie being out of reach. Chris truly cared for her. And besides, there was another woman now who had hijacked Mioray¡¯s heart. ¡°How come you didn¡¯t think to mention this even once?¡± Chris waved his hands in disbelief, looking more shocked than he had been when he first saw Mioray without his arm. ¡°Tell me everything right now!¡± ¡°Can¡¯t it wait until morning?¡± ¡°There¡¯ll be plenty to worry about in the morning! No, man, I want all the details now!¡± Mioray sighed. Chris was so straightforward, and it was almost frightening how he could come up with ideas that seemed too close to the truth, without realizing it or taking his own words seriously. Which was a relief, because if he ever did, he might start to suspect that Mioray hadn¡¯t just woken up in a hospital room, but perhaps even in a morgue. The thought made Mioray glance down at his hospital gown. ¡°Can I at least change into something else first? You got any spare clothes?¡± ¡°Sure, anything for my guy, man.¡± Chris stood up and rummaged through his wardrobe, tossing clothes onto the floor as he looked for something that might fit Mioray. However, everything he owned was a size too big. It wasn¡¯t that Mioray was particularly short; it was just that Chris was taller and more athletic. Sometimes it was hard to believe Chris was a history student. He could have easily passed for a basketball player. But, the truth was, he was smart and genuinely enthusiastic. He loved parties and was usually the one throwing them. ¡°Anyway, you¡¯ll have to make do with what I¡¯ve got,¡± Chris said, handing him a shirt and jeans. ¡°I¡¯m not buying you new clothes, man, sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. Thanks,¡± Mioray took the clothes and started changing. ¡°By the way, where¡¯s Julie? I thought she¡¯d be here with you.¡± ¡°We were together at the club, but she left early. She said she wanted to rest up before tomorrow.¡± ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s where you got drunk?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not drunk!¡± Chris protested, grabbing the bottle from the bed and draining the last of the water. ¡°Okay, maybe a little.¡± He tossed the empty bottle into the trash. A perfect three-pointer, or whatever it was. Mioray wasn¡¯t exactly a basketball expert. ¡°Are you done changing? Come on, man, you can¡¯t keep the juiciest details from me!¡± The juiciest details, of course, were how Mioray had met Erinel. There was no way to dodge it, so he started telling Chris about the bartender he¡¯d met just before the accident. The story took longer than expected. Chris hadn¡¯t been kidding when he said he wanted all the details. Like a true interrogator, he demanded nothing be left out and asked Mioray to be as specific as possible, right down to the exact words Erinel had used. By the time they finished talking, it was nearly sunrise. Chris inflated a mattress he kept for guests in the middle of the room and let Mioray lie down. They still had an hour or so before they needed to meet Chris¡¯s contact, so they decided to get at least a little sleep. Chris fell asleep quickly, tired from the night of partying and talking with Mioray. Mioray, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t sleep. He wanted to, mentally, but his body refused. He felt oddly energized, like he could leap to his feet and run around the city. It was maddening, the feeling of being awake, alone, and unable to rest. His mind needed stimulation, so he lay there, listening to Chris tossing and turning, and to the early birds chirping in the pine trees outside. cHApTEr 2. oncE upon A TimE (3 of 3) As dubious as it was, Mioray¡¯s plan worked. The next day, he and Chris went to see the med school student who was supposed to give Mioray a cast. ¡°You¡¯ve got the money?¡± was the first thing the guy asked when they arrived. ¡°Do we have the money? Of course we¡¯ve got the money, man.¡± Chris glanced at Mioray as if the med school student¡¯s question was offensive. Mioray smiled awkwardly. Well, it was Chris who had the money, not him. Chris had said the cast would be a late birthday present from him to Mioray. ¡°Do you have the cast?¡± ¡°Do I have the cast?¡± the med school student echoed, looking at Mioray as if Chris¡¯s question was offensive. Again, Mioray smiled awkwardly. ¡°Of course I don¡¯t have it! I need to wrap the materials around the arm and then wait for the cast to set.¡± ¡°Well, you see, there¡¯s a small problem with that¡­¡± In the end, the med school student had to improvise. He rolled a piece of cardboard into a tube, then applied fiberglass over it two times separately, and then glued those two parts of hardened fiberglass into one cast. He taught Mioray how to wear it properly, so it would hold tight and wouldn¡¯t fall off at an inopportune moment. The cast wasn¡¯t perfect, but it would suffice in the short term, until Mioray could think of a better solution. Of course, while wearing the cast, he had to remain mindful of his movements, never forgetting that he didn¡¯t have a left arm anymore. He also borrowed a scarf from Chris to hide the wound and stitches on his neck. When all was done, they headed to their first lectures of the day. On the way, Chris teased Mioray about how desperate he was not to miss a single class. It was true. Last year, Mioray hadn¡¯t missed a single lecture, attending each one religiously, and he planned to continue the same habit this year. After the classes, Mioray returned home, where his parents were waiting for him. He felt nervous anticipating the reunion. Would they be angry with him? Or worse, disappointed to the point they couldn¡¯t find it in themselves to love him anymore? These doubts plagued him as he stood in front of the apartment door. There was only one way to find out. He rang the doorbell. It turned out to be nothing like he¡¯d feared. On the contrary, his parents burst into tears when they saw him, hugging him tightly before he¡¯d even stepped inside. At that moment, his cast nearly slipped off, but Mioray barely managed to keep it in place. Of course, his parents noticed he was hurt, and questions poured out. Mioray calmed them down, explaining that he¡¯d broken his arm that morning after falling down the dormitory stairs. It was the same lie he¡¯d told everyone at university, and he felt guilty for deceiving his parents. But seeing their love for him, even though they weren¡¯t his biological parents, he wanted to believe the same thing they believed: that his arm would heal quickly and that he was otherwise safe and sound. After that, everyday life began to creep back in, gradually replacing the bizarre memory of waking up in the hospital. Studies took up most of Mioray¡¯s time, keeping his mind off the morgue, the detectives, and even Erinel. Life was almost back to normal. Almost, but not entirely. There were changes, unexplainable changes, that were terrifying if he thought about them too much. Mioray tried convincing himself they were just the lingering effects of psychological trauma and that, in time, everything ¨C everything ¨C would return to normal. For starters, he would sleep again. Since that sleepless night at Chris¡¯s place, Mioray hadn¡¯t managed a minute of rest. His body didn¡¯t tire anymore, and neither did his mind. At night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling until he couldn¡¯t stand it anymore. Then he would get up to study or watch movies. Mioray remembered learning once that the longest someone had gone without sleep was just over ten days. Well¡­ It had already been two weeks. Two weeks since he started pretending everything was as normal as ever. Daily classes, hanging out with friends, and dinners with his parents. He often took his plate to his room under the pretense of needing to study, sitting alone with textbooks open on his computer. He¡¯d sit there for hours, the plate untouched, his fork idly poking at the food, before setting it aside entirely. Mioray tried to eat once, but it ended up with him vomiting everything he¡¯d put in his mouth. It was enough for him to decide not to touch food ever again. Still, the changes hadn¡¯t disrupted Mioray¡¯s life in any significant way, so he was starting to get used to them, like wearing a high collar sweatshirt that would cover his neck fully. It was another day at the university. Mioray sat in one of the afternoon classes, joined by other third-years. ¡°Now class, today we are going to delve into the Post-Torlin Era, also known by many as the Era of Survival,¡± the professor announced, his monotonous voice doing little to spark interest. He scrawled the terms across the chalkboard, an antiquated tool rarely used in this day and age, yet one this university and particularly this professor insisted upon, as if to highlight its historical significance. ¡°But first, I¡¯d like to see how much you remember about it from school.¡± Silence filled the room. Even the faintest cough would have been noticed. Either no one was ready to take their studies seriously yet, even though two weeks had passed since the semester began, or everyone¡¯s knowledge of those two centuries of back-to-back disasters was hazy at best. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be shy,¡± the professor pressed on. ¡°Surely you know something. I understand that modern history doesn¡¯t get much attention in school, but you¡¯re third-year history students now, you ought to know at least the basics.¡± Actually, Mioray knew more than enough about that period. Countless sleepless nights had left him with little to do but study, and now he was practically ready for the entire semester. He just had to keep everything he¡¯d learned memorized. But speaking up in class? No chance. Not since he¡¯d earned the nickname ¡°holy boy¡±. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± the professor added with a glance that betrayed his words, ¡°I won¡¯t grade your answers poorly.¡± Still, no one volunteered. History lessons in school mostly focused on events long in the past, and even the university¡¯s first couple of years revisited those same periods in more detail. The past two centuries? Often skipped over entirely, both in academics and in casual conversation. ¡°The starting point for this era is generally agreed upon to be the explosion of a nuclear plant near the city of Torlin,¡± a girl in a peach zip-up hoodie suddenly said, breaking the silence. She sat next to Chris and seemed to rescue the class from collective humiliation. ¡°This is why it¡¯s also called the Post-Torlin Era.¡± The room let out a collective sigh of relief. The class was grateful for her sacrifice. If she volunteered to answer, everyone knew she¡¯d do it flawlessly. Professors usually caught on eventually and stopped letting her answer every question, but this professor hadn¡¯t figured that out yet. He stroked his gray beard thoughtfully. ¡°Your name?¡± he asked. ¡°Julie. Julie Green.¡± ¡°Thank you, Miss Green. It warms my heart to know at least one student here takes their studies seriously. You seem to know a little bit of history.¡± A couple of students chuckled at the remark. Mioray smirked, amused that the professor assumed Julie was the only one who knew about the Post-Torlin Era. Chris laughed too, recognizing the subtle jab at Julie¡¯s pride. While the professor¡¯s words sounded complimentary, they also undermined her confidence, praising her while suggesting she only knew ¡°a little.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure most of you think the nuclear explosion caused the disasters of the Era of Survival,¡± the professor continued, oblivious to Julie puffing her cheeks in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s fascinating how easy it is to manipulate facts, even with information readily accessible.¡± ¡°Allow me, professor!¡± Julie interrupted, shaking her chestnut-brown donut bun as she spoke. ¡°It¡¯s true that, for decades, the nuclear explosion was blamed for the global drought. However, it was later revealed that the MAE Corporation had been depleting the planet¡¯s resources for their own gain.¡± Ah, yes. The biggest scandal in modern history. Mioray was aware of it, of course. Despite the common agreement that the MAE Corporation was responsible for what happened to the planet and humanity, Mioray counted himself among those who believed MAE had been doing the right thing. The global drought would have happened sooner or later anyway, and MAE¡¯s project, Messiriah, though it ultimately failed, was aimed at preserving biodiversity and supporting oxygen and food production. Some of MAE''s ideas had evolved into more successful projects. The most notable was the Sphere Cities initiative, designed to shield cities with unbreakable domes from external dangers. The first Sphere City was completed between the global drought and the following ice age, and now every major city with a population over a million was slated to be transformed into one. Reques City was also in line to join the list. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°There were also the spirit bombs,¡± Julie continued. ¡°Terrorist groups like Rizen Phoenix used them to infiltrate Sphere Cities, corrupting areas with unknown anomalies. But they were stopped, and spirit bombs were banned. After that, not much happened. The ice age worsened, eradicating all life outside the cities. Communication between cities was almost nonexistent. It wasn¡¯t until about sixty years ago, when the planet warmed up again, that humanity began repopulating and rebuilding. They say we¡¯ve only recently returned to where we were before the Torlin explosion.¡± True enough, though some argued humanity had surpassed its pre-Torlin state. And not only with bigger numbers. The global population, once reduced from eight billion to three hundred million, had climbed to three billion, which could be supported sustainably on the planet. Mioray leaned back in his chair, listening to the rain tapping against the windows. As Julie explained this chapter of history, he remembered why he¡¯d once had a crush on her. That was in the past now. He still admired her intelligence but felt nothing for her romantically anymore. She lacked something. Something that Erinel had. Erinel was elegant, mysterious, and captivating. She felt like an ideal woman, perhaps because she wasn¡¯t real. Mioray had returned to the bar once more, hoping to find her, but there was no sign of her. It drove him crazy. He could swear she was real, that he¡¯d met her At Life¡¯s End, but he had no proof. Just his memories of her and the bittersweet taste of the white-yellow cocktail she¡¯d made. ¡°But professor,¡± Chris interjected after Julie¡¯s speech, ¡°some believe we¡¯re still in the Era of Survival. What are your thoughts on that?¡± ¡°Are you referring to the red planet? That¡¯s a silly notion,¡± the professor scoffed. ¡°My counterargument is simple: we¡¯ve lived in peace for over sixty years. That planet only appeared a couple of years ago.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Chris replied, but he wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°Still, it¡¯s already destroyed a town in the west and damaged several major cities. And do you know what they plan to name it? Mars. Why would they choose that name if not to connect it back to the Torlin explosion?¡± Thus, a perfectly normal lecture devolved into a heated debate between Chris and the professor. While Mioray followed their argument with mild interest, he couldn¡¯t help but feel detached. Outside of the historian community, who cared whether they were still in the Era of Survival or some newly named era? Did a name truly define an era? It might seem trivial to most, but for historians, it was essential. The beauty of history studies was finding order in the chaos of events. Later that day, after class, Mioray, Chris, and Julie headed to the cafeteria for lunch. They were soon joined by Juju, Mioray¡¯s childhood friend who was studying law. Though Mioray and Juju had grown up together and attended the same school, they weren¡¯t as close as they used to be. These days, Mioray preferred to confide in Chris rather than Juju. Still, despite their diverging paths, the two met up occasionally, especially during lunch breaks. ¡°Honestly, debates like that are what make you guys nerds. But somehow, Chris, you manage to escape the curse. You¡¯re still popular around campus,¡± Juju said, summing up the class discussion Mioray and Julie had been recounting. ¡°What curse are you talking about?¡± another voice chimed in as a girl approached their table. ¡°Hey, guys! What¡¯s for lunch today? Chicken filet, fries, and salad?¡± Without waiting for an answer, she snatched a fry off Juju¡¯s plate. ¡°Hey!¡± Juju protested, but she was too quick for him to stop her. The girl was Angelika, a second-year history student. She¡¯d gotten to know the group last year and had quickly become a part of it. Mioray, Chris, and Julie often joked that she hung out with them mostly because of Juju. They¡¯d noticed how Angelika seemed to direct most of her attention toward him, always finding excuses to linger near him or walk him home after classes, despite living in different parts of the city. Juju, however, didn¡¯t seem to notice or care. To him, she was just another history enthusiast, no different from Mioray, Chris, or Julie. Sometimes, it seemed he only talked with them to feel superior. ¡°Hey, Angelika. Do you know who Mars is?¡± Chris asked, zeroing in on the blonde girl with forest-green highlights and an oversized gray wool sweater, cutting off any chance for Juju to reply about the curse. Not that Juju looked particularly eager to answer. ¡°Umm... Isn¡¯t that the nom de guerre of the military leader who greenlit the Torlin attack, which caused the nuclear explosion?¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Chris said triumphantly. ¡°And it¡¯s also the name of the red planet hanging above us in the sky. The same one threatening us with meteorites breaking off and crashing into Earth. Isn¡¯t it ironic? Man, It¡¯s like whoever named it was trying to make a point. Don¡¯t you think so?¡± ¡°So what if they were?¡± Julie interjected. ¡°Just let it go, Chris. People name things, and people are opinionated. Including our professor. Are you sure you want to get on his bad side? He¡¯s the one grading us, after all.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the point of studying if I can¡¯t challenge him? Man, I thought we were supposed to think critically. If I don¡¯t agree with his conclusions, either he convinces me I¡¯m wrong, or I convince him.¡± ¡°You can do that after you¡¯ve passed his course.¡± ¡°We haven¡¯t finished it already?¡± Mioray raised an eyebrow. ¡°Julie, it felt like you speed-ran through the whole thing in one class.¡± Mioray and Chris burst out laughing, while Julie shot them a glare. ¡°Anyway,¡± she said icily, ¡°Angelika, aren¡¯t you going to order something? Lunch break is almost over.¡± ¡°Oh, right! Of course!¡± Angelika slapped her forehead. ¡°Mioray, want to come with me?¡± ¡°Huh? Why me?¡± ¡°Well, I noticed you¡¯re the only one besides me who hasn¡¯t eaten yet,¡± she said, confused. Chris¡¯s plate was already empty, while Julie and Juju were halfway through their meals. Mioray, however, hadn¡¯t ordered anything. ¡°Oh... No, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m not hungry,¡± he said, waving his healthy hand dismissively. ¡°You go ahead.¡± ¡°Are you on a diet or something, holy boy?¡± Juju teased. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you eat anything in weeks. You¡¯ve been acting weird ever since you ditched us on your birthday. When¡¯s your arm going to heal, anyway? You¡¯ve been wearing that cast for two weeks. Didn¡¯t you say you broke it falling down the stairs? How bad was it?¡± And just like that, the lighthearted mood turned uneasy. Everyone at the table shifted their attention to Mioray, curious but hesitant to ask outright why he¡¯d become so withdrawn lately. Only Chris and Juju seemed bold enough to tread near the topic. Chris because he already knew part of the story, and Juju because he was the one who had raised the question that had lingered, unspoken, until now. Mioray felt the weight of their gazes like a pressure building in his chest. Was this how things would be from now on? No peace, no escape, just this constant tension? All he wanted was to forget the incident from two weeks ago. Was that too much to ask? To just move on like nothing had happened? But forgetting wasn¡¯t so easy when nothing about him was normal anymore. He couldn¡¯t sleep. He didn¡¯t feel hungry or thirsty. He never felt tired, cold, or hot. Even his blood ¨C Mioray had deliberately cut himself once, desperate to confirm that he still had any coursing through his veins. It turned out he did, but the discovery didn¡¯t bring relief. An hour later, the wound vanished, leaving no scar, as if it had never existed. And the stitches? The ones on his legs, his unbroken arm, his neck? The cuts they were meant to hold together had vanished entirely, leaving behind smooth, unmarked skin. It was as if they¡¯d been sewn into him for no reason at all. ¡°Did you swallow your tongue?¡± Juju snapped his fingers in front of Mioray¡¯s face, jolting him from his spiraling thoughts. ¡°No, I¡¯m just¨C¡± ¡°Cut him some slack, Juju,¡± Chris interrupted, rising from his seat and gathering his empty plate. ¡°A broken arm usually heals in six or eight weeks. And you know people can die falling off stairs, man? Don¡¯t push it. Let¡¯s go, Angelika, I¡¯ll keep you company.¡± Chris and Angelika headed to the counter, leaving Mioray, Julie, and Juju behind. ¡°What? I was just asking,¡± Juju muttered, visibly annoyed. He always seemed a little insecure when Chris stepped in. Julie, sensing the tension, decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. ¡°Have you heard anything about the Dismantler lately?¡± she asked, poking at her salad with her fork. Both Mioray and Juju turned to her. ¡°What about him?¡± they said in unison. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I just noticed there hasn¡¯t been any news about him in the last two weeks. He was all anyone talked about before, constantly on the hunt for two straight months, and now, nothing. It¡¯s strange. Maybe the police finally caught him?¡± Mioray doubted the Dismantler had been caught, but he didn¡¯t want to dwell on the serial killer. Strangely, there had been no updates about the Dismantler¡¯s most recent victim, the one Mioray himself might have been. Or someone else, some unlucky soul, whose body had vanished from the morgue only to be replaced by Mioray¡¯s. The entire situation was a tangled mess, impossible to make sense of, no matter how much he tried. ¡°Caught him?¡± Juju said skeptically, pointing his fork at Julie. ¡°I doubt it. The whole Dismantler case is a fucking PR nightmare for the police. If they¡¯d caught him, they¡¯d have announced it immediately, trying to save face. No, I bet they¡¯re just covering up his new victims to keep the public from panicking and losing even more trust in the system.¡± ¡°Well, we won¡¯t know anything until it¡¯s revealed to us, so there¡¯s no point in talking about the Dismantler,¡± Mioray said, trying to sound casual. In truth, he just wanted to avoid thinking about his own situation. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about what we could do this weekend instead.¡± The shift in topic worked like a charm. They quickly pivoted to brainstorming weekend plans. Everything seemed to settle back to normalcy, until Mioray picked up on a strange sound. Faint at first, it struggled to rise above the chatter and clatter of the bustling cafeteria. ¡°Do you hear that?¡± he asked, his voice uncertain. They fell silent, straining to listen. At first, it was nearly impossible to make out anything in the lively cafeteria, but one by one, people stopped talking, each person trying to pinpoint the eerie sound Mioray had mentioned. It was faint, distant, but undeniably there. An unsettling noise that seemed to grow louder with each passing second. ¡°Is that... screaming?¡± Mioray asked hesitantly. ¡°It sounds like people are screaming outside. What¡¯s happening?¡± As if in answer, the walls of the cafeteria shuddered violently. A moment later, the ceiling caved in with a deafening crash. cHApTEr 3. ExplosivEs kEEp ouT (1 of 3) Mioray didn¡¯t have time to comprehend what had happened. One moment he was casually chatting with his friends; the next, he heard screaming from outside, followed by something heavy crashing down on him, plunging him into darkness. The meteorite from Mars crushed on us, he thought, struggling to grasp his surroundings. There wasn¡¯t enough room to move. Mioray was trapped beneath debris from the collapsed ceiling. He was lucky not to have been crushed outright, but that luck would mean nothing if he couldn¡¯t escape. Screams echoed in the cafeteria, chaotic and disjointed. Some were desperate and pained, calling for help or shouting out names, likely of people in the cafeteria. He even recognized his own name amidst the commotion. It must have been Julie and Juju; they¡¯d been near him when the collapse happened. Mioray¡¯s heart raced as he hoped they were unharmed, along with Chris and Angelika. But the other cries sent a chill down his spine. They were raw, guttural, almost inhuman. The darkness around him was broken only by slivers of light seeping through gaps in the rubble. He tried to move but was pinned. Taking a deep breath, Mioray yelled for help. If someone was calling for him, maybe they¡¯d hear him through all this chaos. ¡°Mioray? Mioray, is that you?¡± a female voice called from nearby. The light from the gaps flickered as someone blocked its path. Mioray recognized the voice. It had to be Julie. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m here!¡± he shouted back. ¡°I¡¯m stuck! I can¡¯t get out!¡± ¡°Hang on! Juju and I will try to dig you out!¡± The slivers of light danced chaotically as Mioray heard grunting and the sound of debris shifting. Then the gaps widened, and a hand stretched out toward him. He grabbed it. With his rescuer¡¯s help, Mioray wriggled free from the debris. Standing up, Mioray brushed off dust and rubble before taking in the cafeteria around him. What had been a lively gathering spot for students and professors was now a disaster zone. The ceiling had partially collapsed, while the outer wall was completely destroyed, leaving a hill of rubble in its place and letting the rain in. Tables and chairs were overturned or broken. Food and shattered plates littered the floor. And then there were the injured. Some had minor bruises, others broken limbs, and some¡­ ¡°Mioray, your arm!¡± Juju, his rescuer, suddenly yelled, pointing at where Mioray¡¯s left arm should have been. ¡°You don¡¯t have your arm! What happened?! And¡­there¡¯s no blood?!¡± Heart sinking, Mioray looked down. His cast was gone, likely crushed in the collapse. Of course, he¡¯d been missing that arm for a while now, so he hadn¡¯t noticed its absence. How could he? He didn¡¯t feel pain, not even from being buried under the rubble. Apart from some minor bruises that didn¡¯t even sting, he was fine. Likely, his injuries would heal quickly, just as the wounds beneath the stitches did. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Juju,¡± Mioray said, waving his sweatshirt¡¯s empty sleeve. ¡°Let¡¯s worry about me later. What is happening here?¡± He hoped Juju wouldn¡¯t press him for an explanation of his arm missing. Everyone was still reeling from the disaster, and there were more urgent matters at hand. Julie, standing next to Juju with wide eyes, seemed uninjured apart from some dust clinging to her pink hoodie. Juju had a small cut on his forehead, but otherwise, he seemed okay too. ¡°I have no fucking clue!¡± Juju snapped, looking around the ruined cafeteria. ¡°Everything just went to shit! We need to get the hell out of here, now!¡± ¡°No,¡± Julie said, her voice shaky but firm. ¡°No. We need to find Chris and Angelika. We have to make sure they¡¯re safe.¡± As much as Mioray wanted to agree with Juju, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to leave his friends behind. His instincts screamed that it wasn¡¯t safe to stay. Another crash could happen at any moment, and the entire ceiling might come down, turning the cafeteria into a tomb for hundreds. But if there was even a chance to help Chris and Angelika, he couldn¡¯t ignore it. The counter where they¡¯d been heading wasn¡¯t far from the outer wall. Without a word, Mioray started moving toward it, slipping past Julie and Juju, who were still arguing. They stopped mid-sentence, and then Julie fell into step behind Mioray. Juju cursed under his breath, reluctant but unable to let them go alone. After a moment, he joined them. The three moved carefully through the debris, doing their best to avoid looking at the bodies. But they couldn¡¯t ignore them. Some people hadn¡¯t escaped with minor injuries or broken bones. Lifeless forms lay scattered across the cafeteria. There weren¡¯t many, but it was enough to make Mioray¡¯s stomach turn. He had never seen a dead body before, let alone those of people who¡¯d been alive just moments earlier. He shuddered. I almost joined them, he thought. A miracle had spared him, even as the world around him crumbled. ¡°Look, it¡¯s Angelika!¡± Julie gasped. ¡°Angelika, it¡¯s us! Are you alright? Where¡¯s Chris?¡± Mioray and Juju followed her gaze. Near the ruins of the outer wall sat a blonde girl with forest-green bangs. One of her legs was bent at a grotesque angle. Her face was pale, her expression frozen in terror as she turned to look at them. Julie screamed. It wasn¡¯t an ordinary scream. It was piercing, raw, and filled with devastation. Mioray never imagined he¡¯d hear a sound like that, especially from a friend. Julie¡¯s trembling hands flew to her face, muffling her screams momentarily, only for them to return with renewed force. ¡°No, no, no!¡± she cried, staggering forward. Her unsteady steps carried her closer to Angelika, who sat motionless. Julie seemed on the verge of collapsing as she reached her destination. Then, with a strangled sob, she crumpled to her knees. ¡°Chris, no! No, no, no!¡± Mioray¡¯s stomach dropped. Beside Angelika was another body, lying still amid the rubble. Its head was buried under a pile of blood-streaked debris. Blood pooled on the floor, spreading out in dark, unforgiving trails. Julie, sobbing hysterically, grabbed the lifeless hand and clutched it to her chest. ¡°Wake up, Chris!¡± she cried, her whole body shaking. ¡°Please, wake up!¡± He didn¡¯t. He never would. Chris¡¯s head was crushed. Whatever relief Mioray had felt at surviving the inexplicable blast vanished in an instant. The world around him seemed to tilt, his vision swimming as he fought to breathe. What is this? Why? How could this happen? It didn¡¯t make sense. Chris had been alive moments ago. They¡¯d gone to class together, shared jokes over lunch. ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­¡± Just recently Chris had helped Mioray cover up his accident. Now, he was gone. Forever. No more arguments with professors. No more plans to travel home. No more nights with his girlfriend. Dead. Chris was dead. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do,¡± Juju said flatly behind Mioray. ¡°Can we go now?¡± Mioray flinched at the detachment in his voice. Juju had always been self-centered, but right now, that indifference felt almost cruel. Still, maybe there was something useful in that detachment. Mioray shook his head, forcing himself to focus. They still didn¡¯t know what caused the explosion, or if it was truly over. ¡°It¡¯s not safe here,¡± Mioray said through clenched teeth. He approached Julie and Angelika. ¡°We have to get outside while it¡¯s quiet. There might be another blast.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not leaving Chris!¡± Julie screamed, clutching the lifeless hand tighter. Tears streamed down her face, her voice raw. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving him here. I can¡¯t. He might wake up, any minute now!¡± ¡°Julie, what are you talking about¨C¡± ¡°Mioray, don¡¯t.¡± Angelika¡¯s quiet voice cut him off. For the first time, she seemed to have snapped out of her daze. She met Mioray¡¯s eyes, her gaze steady and somber, silently telling him it was futile. Then, gently, she wrapped her arms around Julie¡¯s shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Julie,¡± Angelika murmured softly. ¡°Mioray didn¡¯t mean to upset you. We¡¯ll wait. Let¡¯s wait for the rescuers. They¡¯ll help Chris. Everything will be fine.¡± Mioray opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, helpless. He felt detached from the scene, like he was observing everything from outside his body. The sight of his friend¡¯s corpse ¨C Chris¡¯s broken, lifeless body ¨C should have devastated him. He knew that. But what he felt was hollow. Not like Julie, who was drowning in grief, clinging desperately to a denial. She¡¯d lost someone she loved, a person she thought would always be there. Mioray didn¡¯t have anyone like that in his life. His parents were the closest, and the thought of losing them was one he didn¡¯t dare entertain. Still, he could grasp, at least rationally, what Julie was going through. He was thankful that Angelika, despite her injuries, had found the strength to comfort her. If only it wasn¡¯t Chris. The thought struck him like a knife. Would it be better if it were someone else? Another classmate? A stranger? With his head crushed, there was no way to identify the body in an easy way. It didn¡¯t matter that the body was dressed in the same clothes that Chris wore. Would I sacrifice another person if that meant that Chris could live? A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Two years ago, Mioray would have scoffed at such a thought. Back then, he didn¡¯t even like Chris. In the beginning, Mioray had only hung out with Julie, hoping they might grow closer, only to learn she was already dating a guy named Chris. That same guy had saddled Mioray with the nickname ¡°holy boy.¡± At first, Mioray hated him. But over time, as they all spent more time together, Chris had grown on him. Despite his flaws, Chris had become his best friend. And now he was gone. No one would ever know what his last thoughts were, if he¡¯d even had time to realize what was happening. ¡°How long are we planning to stay here and coo at Julie?¡± Juju muttered under his breath, low enough that the girls wouldn¡¯t hear. ¡°She¡¯s lost it. What¡¯s the point of risking ourselves for her?¡± ¡°Dammit, Juju!¡± Mioray snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. Anger surged within him, distant and muted, like most of his emotions lately, but undeniable. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?! Wasn¡¯t Chris your friend too? Can¡¯t you see Julie¡¯s devastated? She just lost him! Maybe you could show some compassion for once? Julie needs her friends now, more than ever. Angelika understands that. Why can¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Chill out, I¡¯m just stating the obvious!¡± Juju shot back, his own frustration boiling over. The tension among them was as thick as the dust clouding the air. None of them were coping well with the chaos, save for Angelika, who was doing her best to console Julie and coax her gently toward the idea of leaving. ¡°You said it yourself. It¡¯s not safe here!¡± Juju¡¯s voice cracked slightly, betraying the stress he was clearly trying to mask with bravado. ¡°I know it¡¯s not safe! But that doesn¡¯t mean we leave Julie behind!¡± Mioray shot back, his hand balled into fist. ¡°Look, let¡¯s check the area. Maybe there are other survivors we can help. Angelika, will you be okay here with Julie?¡± Angelika looked up briefly, her face pale, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound calm. ¡°I¡¯ll stay. Just¡­ don¡¯t go too far, okay?¡± Even in her pain, Angelika was putting on a brave face, her focus solely on comforting Julie. Mioray¡¯s gaze drifted to her mangled leg. The unnatural bend must have been excruciating, but she never let it show. If only Juju would show her even a hint of care, just a little acknowledgment. It might give her more strength. ¡°Yeah, fine,¡± Juju muttered, clicking his tongue irritably. His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek. ¡°Let¡¯s go play heroes and die along with them, then.¡± It took everything Mioray had not to slap Juju right then and there. Not now. This wasn¡¯t the time for infighting. He turned his attention to the shattered remains of the cafeteria, scanning for anyone who might still need help. Nearby, a man was performing frantic CPR on someone sprawled across the floor. A group of people were struggling to lift a massive slab of concrete trapping a girl beneath it. An old woman, probably a professor, sat slumped against a broken table, her gray hair matted with blood. She stared blankly ahead, dazed. ¡°Hey, how are you feeling?¡± Mioray knelt beside her, Juju reluctantly trailing behind. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding pretty badly.¡± ¡°Thank you, dear,¡± the old woman said weakly, her hand trembling as it rested on his shoulder. ¡°I feel¡­ dizzy. Do you have water?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll find some,¡± Mioray assured her. ¡°Do you know what happened here?¡± she asked, before letting him go. ¡°No. I have no idea.¡± Mioray had a theory, though it was still unproven. There were no signs of a meteorite in the cafeteria itself, which led him to believe the epicenter of the impact must have been outside. That could explain why they heard screaming from outside first. Then the blast wave struck, collapsing parts of the building and trapping them in the chaos. But before Mioray could process his thoughts further, a loud, almost ecstatic voice echoed through the cafeteria. ¡°I found you!¡± The sheer glee in the voice sent chills down his spine. ¡°I found you!¡± Mioray turned toward the sound, along with everyone else present in the cafeteria. Atop a pile of rubble that had once been part of the outer wall, a towering figure stood, raindrops falling on its shoulders. The man ¨C or thing ¨C was enormous. He loomed over the wreckage like a conqueror claiming his prize. His bare torso was clad only in a gray vest with red accents, and he wore loose gray shorts. His feet were bare, though no one¡¯s gaze lingered there. What stood out most was his sheer size and unsettling appearance. He was easily over two meters tall, his body a network of bulging, taught muscles that looked like they were carved from steel. But what froze Mioray¡¯s blood were the man¡¯s eyes. Pitch black sclera, with irises and pupils a vivid, bloody red. They were the eyes of a beast. Feral, unrelenting, and utterly mad. And they were locked onto Mioray. ¡°What the¨C¡± Juju started, but his words were drowned out by the man¡¯s sudden, earth-shaking leap. The figure descended from the rubble pile with terrifying force. The ground quaked on impact, chunks of debris flying outward like shrapnel. The remaining walls shuddered, and a new cascade of concrete rained down. Dust choked the air as more screams erupted. Mioray barely had time to react. The old woman beside him let out a strangled gasp as a stray slab of concrete struck her. She crumpled lifelessly to the ground, blood pooling beneath her head. ¡°No!¡± Mioray cried, spinning back toward her, but a heavy thud behind him made him freeze. He turned slowly, dread pooling in his stomach. The giant was standing just a few feet away. His shadow loomed over Mioray, the oppressive presence making it hard to breathe. The giant¡¯s black and blood-red eyes gleamed with a manic hunger as he stepped forward, each movement deliberate and unnervingly calm. ¡°I found you!¡± the giant man repeated, his tone a chilling blend of ecstasy and menace, like a predator savoring the moment before a kill. It was staggering how quickly he moved. One moment, he stood atop the rubble over ten meters away; the next, he was mere steps from Mioray. The sheer speed was unnatural. Mioray only realized what was truly wrong as the man staggered forward, swaying like a drunk, nearly collapsing. He wasn¡¯t towering anymore. The giant was shrinking, or rather, his lower legs were gone, nothing but jagged bone and raw, bleeding stumps. Blood drenched his shorts and painted the floor with slick crimson. Yet he kept moving, walking on these brutalized remains as if pain was a foreign concept. His pitch-black eyes with blood-red centers stayed locked on Mioray, his lips moving in a rhythmic, chant-like repetition of the same words: ¡°I found you. I found you.¡± Mioray froze, unable to look away. Every nerve screamed at him to run, but his body refused to obey. Juju wasn¡¯t any better. His face was ghostly pale, his wide, terrified eyes fixed on the staggering man. The mad giant stretched out an oversized hand toward Mioray, reaching to grab him by the collar. Then, something unexpected happened. Julie stepped forward. ¡°No! Julie, get back!¡± Angelika shouted, her voice trembling. While everyone else was frozen in place, fixated on the horrifying figure, Julie had quietly moved. She left Chris¡¯s side and stepped between Mioray and the unknown man, her small frame contrasting with the monstrous figure. It was as though she felt no fear, no recognition of the danger that loomed over her. Maybe she hadn¡¯t noticed how the man¡¯s jump had killed several others, crushing them beneath debris? And what a jump it was. The force of it had blown out his legs, the gruesome aftermath of which Mioray still couldn¡¯t fully comprehend. The explosion of his limbs seemed deliberate, like some kind of self-destructive propulsion. Was this man the cause of the screams outside, the blast that had killed Chris and everyone else? Could someone like him have done all this alone? Julie didn¡¯t seem to care. She didn¡¯t seem to realize. No, she clung to the man¡¯s blood-drenched vest, her fingers shaking. Her voice was fragile yet filled with desperate hope as she begged. ¡°Mister, please, help me. My boyfriend, he¡¯s trapped under the debris. Nobody else will help me get him out. But you¡¯re strong. I know you can do it. Right?¡± Her words hung in the air, innocent and incongruous in the face of such madness. The man¡¯s grotesque eyes shifted from Mioray to Julie. His bloody stumps faltered for a moment, but he steadied himself and reached out again, this time for her. ¡°Julie, get away from him!¡± Angelika screamed, terror lacing her voice. But the man¡¯s hand closed around Julie¡¯s waist before anyone could stop him. Effortlessly, he lifted her into the air with one arm, as though she were weightless. She didn¡¯t understand what was happening, how could she? None of them did. It was absurd. The way he held her, with just one massive hand wrapped around her waist as though she weighed nothing, defied everything they knew to be possible. How could anyone¡¯s waist fit so effortlessly in a single palm? From the moment he appeared, he had shattered every notion of logic. He had blown his own legs apart with that horrifying jump, debris scattering around him like leaves in a storm. Yet he continued to move as if untouched by pain or injury. His unnatural, otherworldly eyes, black voids with glowing red centers, were fixated on Julie. This wasn¡¯t some meteorite that caused the explosion. No, it had been this man all along. He alone was responsible. Whatever his intentions were, there was no doubt they were steeped in malice. And yet, Julie remained oblivious to the danger, her desperate hope for a miracle clouding her judgment. ¡°You¡¯ll help, right?¡± she whispered, hope flickering in her tear-streaked face. The giant man¡¯s grip tightened. Julie let out a painful squeak. And then she exploded, along with the man¡¯s arm. Her torso burst like a grotesque firework, a torrent of blood, organs, and bone shards spraying outward. The sound was deafening, a sickening combination of wet flesh and ruptured air. The explosion splattered everyone nearby ¨C Angelika, Mioray, Juju ¨C with crimson gore. Only Julie¡¯s feet and head hit the ground, the remains crumpling in a lifeless heap. Her face was frozen in an expression of hope, a cruel mockery of the trust she¡¯d placed in the man. ¡°Julie!¡± Mioray screamed, his voice raw with anguish. ¡°What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck?!¡± Juju shrieked, collapsing to the floor in a mess of shaking limbs and broken breaths. Angelika could only scream, her hands pressed to her face, tears cutting streaks through the blood splattered across her cheeks. Mioray stood rooted, his body trembling. Something wet and warm slid down his shoulder. He glanced, horrified, to find a piece of Julie¡¯s lung clinging to him. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but he was paralyzed. It was ridiculous. It was insane. How was it possible to do something like this?! Yet, somehow, it was. The madman stood before him, precariously balanced on his shattered knees. He had only one arm left, yet even in this grotesque state, there was no doubt he remained a grave threat. Mioray shuddered at the thought ¨C if Julie hadn¡¯t intervened, it would have been my body reduced to scattered fragments, with only my feet and head left intact. He refused to believe Julie was truly gone. There had to be a way to save her, some way to undo this nightmare. She couldn¡¯t just die... like that. It wasn¡¯t fair. It wasn¡¯t fair! But there was no time for mourning. The madman remained standing, and worse, he had more horrors to reveal. Mioray¡¯s breath caught in his throat as he noticed the impossible happening before his eyes. The giant¡¯s severed arm, blown apart just moments ago, was slowly regenerating. Bones began to form first, stark and jagged, followed by sinew and muscle knitting together with unsettling precision. His legs were healing, too, the torn stumps gradually reforming into functional limbs. There was no denying what this meant. In mere minutes, the giant would be whole again, ready to unleash further destruction. cHApTEr 3. ExplosivEs kEEp ouT (2 of 3) She had been the first to approach him. Julie. Mioray had always struggled to connect with new people when he started university. At the beginning he stuck to Juju, though their friendship had grown strained already. Julie, however, was different. Smart and kind, she was deeply invested in her studies and always willing to lend a hand to anyone in need. She loved traveling, exploring quaint coffee shops, sampling their desserts, and savoring unique coffee blends. Like Mioray, she lived with her parents. She owned a beagle named Leyla, named after the infamous exiled princess of Yeland. Julie often shared photos of herself with Leyla, her joy radiating through every snapshot. But now Julie was dead. Her head lay on the floor, her glassy, unseeing eyes turned toward Mioray, brimming with questions he couldn¡¯t answer. Why did she have to die? Why did her story end here, before it had even begun? Life had been so promising, her future so bright. Now, it was smeared with blood, and no amount of rain falling outside could wash away the sorrow. Her life was obliterated, just like the cafeteria. The difference was that the cafeteria could one day be rebuilt. Julie could not. The giant man before him bore a closer resemblance to the wreckage of the cafeteria than to a human being. Mangled and battered, his arm and legs were destroyed, but for him, it was only a temporary setback. Even now, his body was regenerating, rebuilding itself in defiance of logic. There was no denying it; Mioray saw the impossible happen with his own eyes. The monster¡¯s focus shifted back to him, utterly ignoring Julie, whom he had just killed moments before. Did he even realize what he had done? The giant said nothing now, but his actions spoke volumes. Leaning toward Mioray with slow, deliberate menace, he panted heavily, like a dying beast driven by relentless purpose. The self-inflicted damage clearly took a toll on him, but it didn¡¯t stop him. What was his motive? Why had he attacked the university? Why was he after Mioray? Mioray didn¡¯t intend to find out. This towering figure was death incarnate. Wherever he went, bodies were left in his wake. And there were plenty more people in the cafeteria for him to claim. Would his rampage cease if Mioray surrendered, offering himself as a sacrifice? It was a noble thought, but there was no guarantee it would work. And Mioray didn¡¯t want to die. Desperately, his mind raced for an escape route, one that wouldn¡¯t cost more lives. Behind him stood a group of terrified people. If he ran toward them, he would only lead the madman straight to them. Not all of them would escape in time; hesitation would mean death. The risk was too great. Ahead of him, however, the madman blocked the path. And Juju and Angelika were there, too. If Mioray attempted to slip past the monster, he could lose his remaining friends. He had already lost two. How could he bear losing more? Angelika, with her broken leg, was utterly defenseless. She sat huddled on the floor, her hands covering her face, her eyes shut tightly as though willing the nightmare to end. Juju wasn¡¯t much better off, flattened to the floor as if trying to merge with it. He would need to get up and move before the giant reached him, but that seemed unlikely in his paralyzed state. Mioray¡¯s options were grim: wait to die, flee toward the group and risk leading the madman to them, or attempt to save Juju and Angelika and gamble on their survival. His heart thundered in his chest as he made his decision. ¡°Juju, can you move?¡± Mioray shouted, stepping back to keep distance from the encroaching monster. ¡°What?¡± Juju stammered, dazed and unsure. But Mioray had already turned to the group behind him. ¡°Run! Get out of here!¡± he yelled. He knew it would be hard to regain composure after witnessing the horrors in the cafeteria, but their survival depended on it. ¡°Go! Call for help! The police, the army, anyone, it doesn¡¯t matter! This monster can¡¯t be stopped by conventional means!¡± As if to punctuate Mioray¡¯s warning, the giant lunged forward, his remaining arm reaching for him. The hand was enormous, terrifyingly so, but Mioray barely dodged, slipping behind the creature. Now, nothing stood between the madman and the group. Only then did they fully grasp the danger they were in. Screaming, they bolted for the ruined outer wall, scrambling to escape. But, as Mioray had suspected, the monster of a man was fixated on him. Ignoring the fleeing crowd, the giant turned his blood-red gaze back to him, and Mioray felt his courage waver under the weight of that piercing stare. But he didn¡¯t falter. He couldn¡¯t. He had to stay strong if he wanted to survive. There was still a chance to outsmart this beast. He didn¡¯t look intelligent. His movements were erratic, driven by feral rage. Even now, as his legs continued to regenerate, he struggled to adapt his balance. Then, like a rabid hound, he dropped to all fours, using his remaining arm to stabilize himself, his gait becoming even more animalistic. It was clear now that the giant would move faster. If Mioray was going to act, it had to be now. He reached Juju, grabbing him by the hand and hauling him to his feet. Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t difficult. His adrenaline was through the roof with everything that had unfolded. Without releasing Juju, Mioray sprinted toward the cafeteria exit that led into the long corridor. ¡°It¡¯s me you want, isn¡¯t it?¡± Mioray shouted, pausing briefly to check if the giant was still following him. ¡°Then come and get me, you monster!¡± Juju yanked his hand free, his face contorted with panic and anger. ¡°Are you crazy?! Why would you taunt him like that?!¡± he screamed, spit flying from his mouth. The answer was simple, even if Juju wouldn¡¯t understand it. Angelika was still in danger. The man was clearly targeting Mioray, but that didn¡¯t mean others were safe. Perhaps Chris¡¯s and others¡¯ death had been collateral damage in the chaos of the explosion, but Julie¡¯s death was deliberate. The madman had killed her without hesitation, and that meant he could kill others too. If he turned his twisted gaze toward Angelika, it would be over for her. If that happened ¨C holy Mirabelle forbid that happened ¨C Mioray would do whatever it took to prevent that, even if it meant risking his own life. But the monster had already passed Angelika, showing no interest in her. Maybe he had to be directly provoked to notice anyone besides Mioray. Julie¡¯s death had proven that much. If only she hadn¡¯t drawn his attention¡­ ¡°You stupid excuse for a hero! What are you standing there for?!¡± Juju bellowed from the exit. ¡°Run, for fuck¡¯s sake!¡± For now, Angelika seemed safe. Mioray had done all he could for her. Their eyes met ¨C her face finally uncovered, tears streaming down. Please don¡¯t die, her gaze pleaded silently. Mioray nodded briefly, hoping someone would help her escape or that she could muster the strength to flee, despite her broken leg. He couldn¡¯t do more for her now. The giant was closing the distance, and Mioray turned and resumed running. Hesitation meant death. And dead, he was no good to anyone. It wasn¡¯t his job to deal with this monster; there had to be people trained for situations like this. At least, he hoped there were. Then again, he doubted there was a manual on how to handle a regenerating, muscle-bound juggernaut hell-bent on destruction. All Mioray could do was hang on until the authorities arrived. If they arrived in time. The corridor stretched ahead, with classroom doors lining the east wall and rain-slicked windows running along the west. Hiding in a classroom was out of the question; that would only trap them. Midway down the hall, Juju grabbed the handle of one of the windows and twisted it open. Without hesitation, he climbed onto the windowsill, ready to jump outside. Whatever Juju¡¯s faults ¨C his selfishness, his focus on self-preservation above all ¨C his will to survive was enviable. But the monster¡¯s intent to hunt them down seemed stronger. It wasn¡¯t clear if the giant could distinguish which of them was Mioray. He barreled into the corridor, smashing through the entrance doors and the surrounding wall as his legs fully regenerated. When his gaze fell on Juju, perched on the windowsill, his lips twisted into what might have been a grin. Was Mioray imagining it? It was hard to tell at this distance. Mioray hadn¡¯t reached Juju when the monster swung his remaining fist at the window. The glass shattered in a deafening explosion, sending a blast wave through the corridor. All the windows along the west wall burst simultaneously, the rain-streaked shards scattering like glinting snowflakes in the air. The floor was soon littered with jagged fragments, and some shards embedded themselves in Mioray. He felt no pain. Just cold terror. He watched in horror as Juju was flung from the windowsill by the force of the blast, hurled deeper into the corridor like a ragdoll. He landed hard on the floor, glass raining down on him. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. The west side of the corridor was obliterated in an instant. Part of the ceiling collapsed, and rain poured in from the open ruin. Outside, bystanders in the university courtyard began gathering, their curiosity piqued despite the downpour. Don¡¯t come closer! Mioray thought desperately. Shouldn¡¯t everyone have evacuated the campus by now? Why were there still people around? Where were the rescue teams? If it was this easy for the giant to unleash such devastation, how could Mioray possibly divert the monster, lead him away from the others? It would all be for nothing if the madman decided to turn his wrath on the courtyard full of onlookers. ¡°He broke my fingers!¡± Mioray suddenly heard. He turned to see Juju lying sprawled on the floor. ¡°He broke my fingers! I¡¯m gonna fucking kill him!¡± Under different circumstances, Mioray might have laughed. The sheer absurdity of Juju¡¯s indignation in the middle of this chaos was almost comical. Still, Mioray was just relieved that his friend had escaped with relatively minor injuries. If Juju had the energy to complain, it meant he wasn¡¯t too badly hurt. That¡¯s Juju for you, in all his selfish glory. People had died, friends had been crushed, and another friend had lost an arm ¨C though Juju didn¡¯t yet know Mioray had already lost it two weeks ago ¨C yet here he was, outraged about his broken fingers, threatening to kill the madman and all, forgetting how dangerous he was. Mioray ran to Juju¡¯s side and helped him to his feet. Juju groaned in pain but managed to stand. His right hand hung limp, the fingers twisted at impossible angles, while cuts crisscrossed his body from the shattered glass. Mioray also bore bleeding wounds, but he ignored them. They weren¡¯t hindering him. ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s just your fingers?¡± Mioray asked. ¡°What? What do you mean?¡± Juju¡¯s voice wavered, his disorientation clear. Mioray decided not to press further. He was just thankful Juju was alive. His friend didn¡¯t realize how lucky he was, having survived the blast that had flung him like a ragdoll and showered him with glass shards. A loud crash came from the classroom where the giant had landed. ¡°Come on, Juju. We need to move,¡± Mioray said, scanning what remained of the corridor. ¡°It¡¯s not over yet.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me twice. Let¡¯s get outside!¡± Juju snapped. ¡°We can¡¯t! There are people out there. If we run outside, we¡¯ll put them in danger!¡± ¡°What are you even talking about?¡± Juju scoffed. ¡°Do I look stupid to you? I just want to get as far away from that psycho as possible! Besides, he¡¯s after you, not me. Don¡¯t drag me into your problems! You think you¡¯re some hero, keeping him distracted so others can get away and patting yourself on the back for it. Well, guess what? You¡¯re no better than me! There might still be people in the building, maybe even in the classroom where that psycho is right now. You want to run around and risk them too? Be my guest. I¡¯m out of here.¡± Mioray bit back a reply. Arguing was pointless. Juju¡¯s priorities were clear: save himself at all costs. But Mioray couldn¡¯t leave, not with bystanders still outside. And he had another reason to believe staying inside was safer. In the open courtyard, the giant would have an easier time closing the distance. A single explosive leap, and it would all be over. The thought crystallized just as the nightmare unfolded. The hulking mass of muscle and rage hurtled through the air toward them like a cannonball. Mioray grabbed Juju and yanked him back into the corridor just in time. The monstrous body slammed into the ground where Juju had been standing, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. Pebbles rained down as the beast stood amid the wreckage, his freshly regenerated leg torn apart again in a gruesome fountain of blood. He turned his head toward Mioray and Juju, a wide, deranged grin stretching across his face. His arm, blown apart earlier, was regenerating before their eyes. Mioray¡¯s heart sank. The madman could blow himself up indefinitely. ¡°Stairs, now!¡± Mioray shouted, bolting toward the staircase at the end of the corridor. Juju, for once, didn¡¯t argue and followed close behind. The sound of wet, heavy footsteps echoed behind them, distinct even over Juju¡¯s frantic panting. It was the beast chasing them. Mioray didn¡¯t dare look back, but he could picture it vividly: the giant charging on all fours like a rabid animal, his bloodied, twisted limbs scrambling for purchase. In his mind, he could still hear the man¡¯s deranged voice screaming, ¡°I found you! I found you!¡± Mioray and Juju reached the second floor, bursting into a corridor similar to the one below, though less damaged. The floor bore holes from the previous explosion, but it was otherwise intact. The hallway was eerily empty. Despite Juju¡¯s earlier doubts, it seemed most people had managed to evacuate. ¡°Keep going,¡± Mioray urged, sprinting toward the other end of the building, where another set of stairs were. In the distance, sirens wailed. Relief washed over Mioray. Finally! Help was on the way. Maybe his struggle hadn¡¯t been in vain after all. Soon, the monster would no longer be his problem. The worst seemed behind them. The maddening sound of pursuit had stopped. The giant must have been struggling to ascend the stairs in his crippled state. But that wasn¡¯t reason enough to relax. Mioray and Juju pushed forward, the faint sound of sirens spurring them on. If they could just reach the other set of stairs, they could descend to the exit. No more screams. No more explosions. No more ¡°I found you!¡± Could it really be over? That would have been too good to be true. Suddenly, the floor in front of them erupted, as if a volcano had awakened, spewing debris instead of lava in every direction. At the center of the chaos, a grotesque figure emerged, rock-hard muscles slick with blood and rainwater. The madman was back, this time missing both legs from the knees down. He collapsed onto the floor but instantly propped himself up with his mangled arms, his inhuman resilience on full display. ¡°Found you!¡± he roared, his voice shaking the ruined corridor. Mioray was ready to howl. Was there anything that could stop this man?! The monster had blasted through the ceiling below, creating a shortcut to intercept them. He had cut off their escape, leaving no path to safety. Mioray and Juju could turn back, but it was futile. The madman still had one arm intact, and it was swelling ominously. His entire body seemed primed to detonate on impact. There was no time for new plans. The giant''s gaze locked on Juju. He shifted his weight and raised his fist, the grotesquely overdeveloped muscles bulging. Mioray recognized the signs. The madman was preparing to unleash another devastating explosion. Juju, oblivious, was still trying to charge past him, letting out a half-hearted war cry. ¡°Juju, don¡¯t!¡± Mioray shouted, extending a desperate hand. But he was too far away. There was no way he could reach Juju in time. He watched, helpless, as the madman¡¯s fist moved with terrifying speed toward Juju¡¯s face. If it connected, there would be nothing left, just blood, bone fragments, and silence. None of this made sense, neither the man¡¯s abilities nor the sheer madness of the situation, but Mioray had no choice but to accept this twisted reality. Clinging to logic or conventional thinking would get them killed. He had to adapt, to think beyond the confines of reason. And then, his hand reached Juju. His actual arm had detached from his body, launching forward like a harpoon. It slammed into Juju with enough force to push him aside, just as the madman¡¯s fist hit empty air. No explosion followed. Mioray¡¯s theory was correct. The devastating blasts required contact with solid objects. Mioray blinked, horrified. But how had he done that thing with his arm? He looked down at where his right arm should have been. It was¡­ gone. The sleeve of his sweatshirt dangled empty and from inside the thick black threads extended like tendrils, connecting his body to the detached arm now lying on the floor. The arm was severed right around where stitches were sewn and weirdly, there was no blood at the cut. Moreso, he could still sense his detached arm. He tried to move his fingers and ¨C his eyes didn¡¯t betray him ¨C they actually moved, as if nothing had changed. Yet everything had changed. He was fully armless now. Though he could feel the detached limb, he couldn¡¯t control it, except the fingers, or return it to his body. Worse, the monster was still active. Juju, sprawled against the wall, cursed in a voice that had gone shrill with fear. But the madman didn¡¯t care. His glowing red eyes focused solely on Mioray. That grin, impossibly wide and disturbingly gleeful, stretched across his bloodied face. ¡°Finally, I found you!¡± Mioray barely had time to process the words before the monster lunged. The fist that had been aimed at Juju now struck Mioray instead. The impact was immediate, cataclysmic. A deafening blast tore through the air, hurling Mioray backward like a ragdoll. His severed arm followed, still connected by the black threads, flailing uselessly in front of him. Mioray landed hard, skidding across the debris-littered floor. He quickly got up, but something felt wrong. He looked down. Half his torso was gone. Blood cascaded from the massive wound like a crimson waterfall. Through the ragged hole in his side, he could see his ribs or what remained of them and the faint, erratic beating of his exposed heart. Yet there was no pain. The world around him felt distant, surreal. His mind remained sharp, his vision unnervingly clear, but his body refused to obey him. His legs trembled and buckled, sending him crumpling to the ground. ¡°Run,¡± Mioray tried to say, but his lips felt wooden, his voice a mere whisper. He turned his head, searching for Juju. His friend was still against the wall, too terrified to move, his curses reduced to incoherent mutterings. The madman, however, had forgotten Juju entirely. His focus was solely on Mioray. The beast crawled toward him on bloody stumps. His body was a twisted mass of regenerating flesh and exposed bone. One arm was already beginning to grow back, twitching disturbingly as new muscle and sinew knit together. It was just too much. Mioray closed his eyes. Well, he had done all he could. He had kept the monster occupied, given the police enough time to arrive. The sirens in the distance promised that help was near. It¡¯s their turn now to handle this. He was no hero. He never had been. In his final moments, Mioray thought of Erinel. cHApTEr 3. ExplosivEs kEEp ouT (3 of 3) But the final moments never came. Mioray lay on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him, his body torn apart. Yet, he did not lose consciousness. His eyes were shut, braced for the void, but instead, he found himself wondering if he was being stupid. He wasn¡¯t dead, so why was he doing nothing as a monster loomed closer? Mioray opened his eyes. The giant stood before him, grinning from ear to ear. But what caught Mioray¡¯s attention was Juju, still alive and relatively unscathed given the circumstances. He was slumped against the wall, cradling his mangled hand, unable to move but still breathing. It was unbelievable how Mioray had managed to shoot his arm out and push Juju away from the monster¡¯s exploding strike. There was no explanation for it, much like the twisted man¡¯s baffling ability to detonate his body parts on impact. Yet, the difference between these strange occurrences was clear: while the towering man could repeatedly cause explosions, Mioray¡¯s bizarre arm-detaching move seemed to be a one-time trick. Now, his right arm lay useless on the floor, just behind the giant, with black threads extending from it, disappearing into the sleeve of Mioray¡¯s sweatshirt. Clearly, the giant was built differently. He leaned down, grabbing Mioray by the hair and hoisting him up like a broken doll. The monster''s previously destroyed arm was now fully regenerated. His inhuman strength made it clear he could easily crush Mioray¡¯s head in one swift motion. What happens next? The thought was oddly detached, more curiosity than fear. The faint wail of sirens echoed somewhere outside, but the corridor was eerily silent, the second floor now occupied solely by Mioray, the monster, and Juju. Were the authorities busy evacuating survivors from the first floor? Mioray hoped they had reached Angelika in the cafeteria. It was a miracle Mioray was still alive, though he knew it wouldn¡¯t last. He could feel the monster¡¯s fingers digging into his forehead and temples, their pressure like drills boring into his skull. If Mioray could feel pain, it would have been sharp and relentless. Would the towering man stop after finishing him? Would he spare Juju? If only Juju could summon the courage to stand up and escape while the monster¡¯s attention was fixed on Mioray! Juju always talked big, bragging about how tough and fearless he was. So why couldn¡¯t he prove it now, when it truly mattered? Everything turned red ¨C not just from the monster¡¯s piercing, bloodshot eyes or the gore streaked across his grotesque face. Blood began seeping into Mioray¡¯s vision, pouring from where the man¡¯s fingers pressed down too hard. He could hear the cracks in his skull, the dreadful noise reverberating inside his head. At the same time, the monster¡¯s arm muscles bulged grotesquely, the telltale sign that he was preparing to detonate another limb. Desperate, Mioray tried to move his detached arm, though deep down, he knew it would make no difference. Nothing happened. The man froze. The grip on Mioray¡¯s head loosened, and he was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. Mioray landed on his knees, barely able to hold himself upright. His chest wound no longer bled as profusely. Had he run out of blood? But then how was he still alive? Gathering all his strength, Mioray raised his head. The monster¡¯s expression had changed. The manic grin was gone, replaced by a vacant, slack-jawed stare. His body was cloaked in a pale yellow-gray mist. No, upon closer inspection, it wasn¡¯t mist. Intricate objects shaped like crescent moons swirled around him, piercing his skin and floating lazily in the air like glittering snowflakes or fireflies. Some of these strange shapes fell into the pool of blood beneath Mioray, and when he focused on them, he realized what they reminded him of. Fingernails. Perfectly clipped, crescent-shaped fingernails. The day had officially become too bizarre to comprehend. Footsteps approached from behind. Mioray turned his head with great effort, squinting through bloodied vision to see who it was. A lean man in his mid-thirties strolled down the corridor. His tailored metallic-blue suit and dark green tie looked absurdly out of place. His narrow face, wide ears, and sharp eyes behind thin black-framed glasses exuded an air of clinical detachment. ¡°A piece of cake,¡± the stranger muttered, giving Mioray a disappointed glance. ¡°I expected you to be more resourceful.¡± The man stopped beside Mioray and regarded the now-static giant. ¡°Both of you. You may have devastating powers, but you¡¯re reckless and predictable.¡± Turning back to Mioray, the man¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°How long do you plan on sitting there, waiting to pass out? I see you¡¯ve managed to stabilize your bleeding, but some of it is still seeping through. At least you kept your heart and brain intact. Now, stand up.¡± Mioray blinked, his thoughts sluggish. Stabilize my bleeding? Kept my heart and brain intact? The words sounded ominous. Did this man think he was some kind of zombie? The heart was a new one, though. Mioray didn¡¯t recall zombies dying from heart destruction in the usual lore. Not that it mattered right now. I¡¯m not one of these! Mioray thought desperately. He wasn¡¯t, was he? The doubt had always lingered in the back of his mind, silently haunting him since that day two weeks ago. Shouldn¡¯t he have already been dead? And if not then, what about now, with half of his torso gone, blown apart by the explosion caused by the menacing man? Yet, Mioray wasn¡¯t in shock, nor did he feel any pain. He could still sit on his knees, still move his head. And now, this stranger was telling him to stand up like it was nothing. Who are you? Mioray wanted to ask. ¡°What? What are you mumbling about?¡± the man snapped. ¡°Speak clearly if you have something to say!¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± Mioray was surprised to hear his own voice. So, he could still speak? Just a moment ago, he¡¯d felt as if his lips had turned to wood. Maybe it had been nothing more than his conviction that he was too weak to talk. ¡°And who is this man? What the hell is happening here?¡± ¡°My name is Kevin,¡± the man in the suit replied curtly. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time for questions. There¡¯s too much to do, starting with moving this guy away from here, before any of us get spotted.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± Mioray stared at him in disbelief. How could this man seriously suggest they move the towering monster? It was impossible. Kevin didn¡¯t look particularly strong, and Mioray himself was practically armless. Not to mention missing half his torso, with his heart exposed and beating in plain sight. ¡°What are you even talking about?¡± Kevin sighed heavily, clearly annoyed. ¡°Can¡¯t you just reel your arm back in? What are those black threads for, otherwise?¡± He grabbed the threads connecting Mioray¡¯s detached arm to his body and inspected them, bringing them close to his face. ¡°Looks like some sort of combination of veins and sutures. Interesting. It never really makes sense, does it?¡± With a casual flick, Kevin let go of the threads. ¡°You¡¯ve had two weeks to figure out your abilities, and this is all you can do? I¡¯m honestly surprised you managed to survive the damage this guy inflicted. Must¡¯ve been instinct, figuring out how to control your blood flow without realizing it.¡± Worried, Mioray attempted to stand but only managed to lift one leg before collapsing back onto his knees. ¡°What do you know about the last two weeks?¡± he asked, his exposed heart thumping wildly. It was embarrassing, really, his heart plainly visible for anyone to see. ¡°Enough to question Erinel¡¯s decision to choose you.¡± Kevin adjusted his glasses impatiently. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t have all day. If you can¡¯t recall your arm, then drag it along. The police will swarm this place soon. I¡¯ll call the others to help me move him.¡± ¡°Erinel? You said Erinel?!¡± Mioray¡¯s voice rose sharply. He hadn¡¯t misheard, right? Kevin had said her name, which meant she was real. The revelation hit him like a lightning bolt. She¡¯d chosen him? For what? And who were the others Kevin mentioned? His heart raced faster, and blood began trickling from his wound again. Mioray felt his body weaken. ¡°What part of ¡®we don¡¯t have time for questions¡¯ don¡¯t you understand?!¡± Kevin barked. ¡°Move, and try not to lose all your blood. It¡¯s a pain to wait for it to come back.¡± ¡°Alright, alright! I get it!¡± Mioray snapped, though in truth, he understood nothing. He wasn¡¯t even sure if he could trust Kevin. Sure, Kevin had saved him and somehow stopped the monster, but the whole situation felt surreal. Were those strange crescent-shaped objects fingernails? Many of them were embedded in the giant¡¯s flesh, much like the shards of glass lodged in Mioray¡¯s own body from the shattered windows. ¡°But I can¡¯t just leave Juju here alone. I¡¯ll take him with me,¡± Mioray added firmly. ¡°Fine.¡± Kevin sighed in exasperation but didn¡¯t stop him. He pulled out a phone and began making a call. Despite the chaos surrounding them, Kevin¡¯s suit remained immaculate, and his chestnut hair was perfectly combed. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Mioray tried to stand again. This time, he succeeded, though balancing was a struggle. Like a marionette, he forced his legs to move toward Juju, his detached arm dragging behind him on the floor. Juju was pale as marble, pressed against the wall. He wasn¡¯t moving, barely even breathing, or so it seemed. His unblinking eyes darted between Mioray, Kevin, and the towering man. Mioray stopped halfway, unsure of what to do. The closer he got, the more terrified Juju appeared. Is he afraid of me? Mioray wondered bitterly. Wouldn¡¯t I be afraid if I saw myself like this? Glass shards jutted from Mioray¡¯s body. Half his torso was gone, ribs exposed and his heart beating visibly. His skull bore dents from the monster¡¯s crushing grip. His left arm was gone entirely, while his right arm trailed behind him, tethered by black threads snaking out of his ruined sweatshirt. It was a sight no one should have to see. Juju gasped suddenly, his voice trembling. ¡°He¡¯s moving. He¡¯s moving,¡± he stammered, repeating it over and over. Mioray understood immediately what Juju was talking about. No matter how terrifying Mioray himself looked, there was something far more menacing in the corridor: the twisted man. The self-exploding murderer. Mioray turned around. Not only was the monster moving, but all his limbs were fully intact again. The giant grabbed Kevin in both hands, lifting him effortlessly into the air with a guttural roar. Kevin struggled against the grip, feet dangling uselessly while his arms were pinned to his sides. The pattern was all too familiar now. Mioray knew what would happen next. The giant¡¯s arm muscles began to swell. ¡°Unbelievable,¡± Kevin grunted, his voice strained as he gasped for air. He twisted his shoulders, attempting to loosen the crushing grip, but it was no use. ¡°How did you recover so quickly? Even for a corpse, this shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± Mioray knew Kevin was seconds away from being blown to pieces. He thought about distracting the killer, drawing the monster¡¯s attention back to himself. Maybe the giant would release Kevin if reminded of his original target. Mioray took a tentative step forward. Before he could act, a pale yellow-gray cloud of crescent-shaped objects erupted from Kevin¡¯s hands. Had he been holding them all along? The strange objects ¨C fingernails? ¨C defied gravity, streaking toward the towering man with terrifying precision. They struck like a swarm of tiny insects, embedding themselves into his flesh, just as they had before. Once again, the monster froze. No explosion came. His grip slackened, and Kevin slipped free, stumbling backward. Though shaken, Kevin quickly composed himself, standing tall with his usual pride. His perfect appearance was slightly ruined ¨C his metallic blue suit wrinkled, his chestnut hair disheveled ¨C but even then, he exuded an air of superiority. ¡°Will you stay paralyzed this time?¡± Kevin muttered, brushing imaginary dust from his suit. ¡°If you can¡¯t behave civilly, then you shouldn¡¯t act at all.¡± In stark contrast, the giant was a picture of savagery. His body was riddled with fresh wounds where the crescent-shaped objects had embedded themselves. Blood streamed from the punctures, though he showed no signs of caring or even feeling the pain. Miraculously, his tattered red vest and shorts remained on him, though they were little more than singed rags now. Something about the fingernails was holding him still. Were they imbued with some kind of drug? His body was frozen, but his furious eyes bore into Kevin, filled with rage and unspoken recognition. Did they know each other? It seemed likely. Kevin appeared to know a lot about this monster and he was clearly controlling the fingernails. Mioray took a cautious step back, the implications swirling in his mind. Were those really fingernails? He didn¡¯t want to believe it, but he couldn¡¯t think of any other explanation. The idea of Kevin being a collector of fingernails, controlling them like weapons, was disgusting.. And if it was true, what had Kevin done to collect so many? Mioray¡¯s thoughts spiraled, dark comparisons rising in his mind. Was Kevin as terrible as the Dismantler? The sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor snapped him out of his thoughts. Mioray turned toward the noise. Beyond the gaping hole in the floor where the giant had emerged, three people in blue uniforms advanced swiftly, guns drawn and ready to fire if necessary. ¡°This is the police! Don¡¯t move!¡± The commanding voice belonged to a woman at the front. She scanned the scene, her sharp eyes darting between Mioray, Kevin, and the frozen giant. ¡°Slowly, put your hands in the air where I can see them!¡± Juju sprang to life, leaping to his feet and throwing his hands up. With his bent, broken fingers on his right hand, he looked like one of those inflatable tube men outside car dealerships. ¡°I have nothing to do with this!¡± Juju cried, stumbling toward the officers. He either hadn¡¯t heard the woman¡¯s instructions or chose to ignore them. ¡°Please, help me!¡± ¡°Stay where you are!¡± the officer barked, her tone brooking no argument. She glanced at Mioray, her expression shifting from stern to concerned. She raised her radio to her mouth. ¡°We¡¯ve got an injured man here. Send paramedics immediately.¡± Mioray realized the officer was looking at him. Her concern made sense. He was missing an arm, his ribs were shattered, and his exposed heart was pulsing unnervingly in plain view. She¡¯s probably wondering how I¡¯m still alive, he thought grimly. I¡¯d like to know that myself. To tell the truth, the exploding killer and Kevin weren¡¯t the only strange ones here. Mioray was too. He had his own mysterious abilities, placing him on the same level as Kevin and the monster. The officers advanced cautiously, their weapons trained on the frozen giant. They motioned for Juju to move toward the staircase at the far end of the corridor. He obeyed immediately, not even sparing Mioray a glance. Mioray watched his friend retreat, his figure growing smaller with each step. Was the nightmare finally over? The towering man seemed neutralized, and the police would surely arrest him. Juju and Angelika were alive. Even Mioray had survived, though barely. Relief began to creep in. But then, a dark realization surfaced. Any hope of returning to a normal life was gone. Chris and Julie were dead, and their group would never be the same. How could the survivors ever laugh together again, knowing two of their friends had died in such horrific ways? ¡°You, put your hands in the air, too!¡± The command was directed at the towering man, who stood silently near Kevin. The man in the suit, though clearly displeased, raised his hands as instructed. This wasn¡¯t part of his plan, but there was little he could do against a group of armed officers. That¡¯s for the best, Mioray thought. If the police hadn¡¯t shown up, he¡¯d have been forced to follow Kevin somewhere, something he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to do. ¡°He¡¯s immobilized, officer. He can¡¯t move,¡± Kevin said dryly. ¡°Step away from him. Now,¡± the policewoman ordered. ¡°Witnesses said the one who attacked the university is a very tall, muscular man. He fits the description.¡± ¡°Son, hang on, help is on the way,¡± another officer said, lowering his gun as he spoke to Mioray. The man¡¯s face betrayed his struggle to maintain composure as he forced himself to look at Mioray without averting his gaze. The injuries were that grotesque. ¡°You¡¯ve been through so much already. Just hold on a little longer.¡± ¡°Umm... okay.¡± Mioray¡¯s flat response baffled the officers. They exchanged uneasy glances. None of them knew that Mioray wasn¡¯t feeling pain. His body, however, was growing less responsive with each passing moment, as if it was gradually betraying him. ¡°Are you a professor here?¡± The policewoman asked Kevin, edging closer to the immobilized giant and leaving the other two officers near Mioray. ¡°Not really,¡± as ordered, Kevin moved to the wall, distancing himself from the giant. ¡°I was just passing by when I heard the explosions and decided to see what was happening here.¡± The policewoman opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden, deafening roar drowned out all other sounds. The giant man had recovered. ¡°Why are you still able to move?!¡± Kevin yelled, his voice tinged with disbelief. ¡°I gave you enough to kill an elephant! How are you recovering this fast?!¡± The towering man didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he erupted into maniacal laughter, flames igniting in his eyes as he straightened his arms and started toward Kevin. ¡°Don¡¯t move! Don¡¯t move, or I¡¯ll shoot!¡± the policewoman shouted, her voice commanding but edged with fear. The monster didn¡¯t listen. He was consumed with a singular obsession. Gunfire rang out, but the bullets seemed to barely faze him. For a brief moment, he paused, turning his head as if swatting at invisible pests. Then, his gaze locked on the policewoman, who was firing relentlessly. With terrifying speed, the monster lashed out, striking her with a single palm. The impact triggered an explosion. Mioray barely registered what happened next. The policewoman¡¯s body, or what remained of it, hurtled through the air, crashing into a window. The glass shattered, shards painting themselves red as her remains fell outside. The two remaining officers screamed, their voices high-pitched with horror, but they kept firing, even as their magazines emptied. The towering man didn¡¯t stop. Instead, he detonated one of his legs to propel himself forward, blasting the flooring to debris. Some of it narrowly missed Kevin, who dodged just in time. The towering man crashed into one of the officers, sending him into the hole he made earlier. After falling on the floor, the murderer grabbed the second officer by the leg. He detonated his arm, resulting in a gruesome display of carnage. Blood spattered the walls as the officer¡¯s mutilated body collapsed, his life extinguished in moments. The explosion¡¯s shockwave flung Mioray against the wall. He felt something crack, his spine, maybe. Pain didn¡¯t register, only a grim certainty. We¡¯re all going to die, aren¡¯t we? Paralyzed, Mioray could only watch in horror as the killer, dragging his regenerating limbs, began crawling toward him. He just never stopped. ¡°What a cursed thing you are,¡± Kevin¡¯s angry voice cut through the chaos. ¡°Is there nothing human left in you?!¡± With what little energy he had, Mioray shifted his eyes. Through his darkening vision, he saw Kevin step forward, loosening his dark green tie with a grim determination. ¡°I didn¡¯t want it to come to this,¡± Kevin muttered, his voice low and venomous. ¡°But you leave me no choice.¡± Mioray¡¯s world was rapidly dimming. His strength was gone. Adrenaline had worn off, leaving him at the mercy of his injuries. He could hear the twisted killer¡¯s laughter echoing, but it sounded distant, like the roar of an approaching storm. Then, a voice, soft and familiar, pierced the haze. ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Kevin,¡± the voice warned. Mioray¡¯s heart stirred weakly at the sound. It belonged to someone he had thought might be a figment of his imagination. Despite his fading consciousness, he was relieved to hear it again. ¡°You¡¯ll achieve nothing,¡± the voice continued. ¡°We underestimated him. There¡¯s no way to stop him now. We must retreat.¡± Before the monster could reach him, someone lifted Mioray into their arms and carried him away. Through his darkened vision, he caught a glimpse of his rescuer. They had the face of an angel, their black hair flowing like a river of night. cHApTEr 4. nEw gAmE plus (1 of 3) The world around him shifted. The ruined corridor in the university suddenly transformed into a small, dimly lit room. It was a strange sensation, like the abrupt change of channels on a TV, where everything, including the mood, instantly becomes different. For Mioray, it felt as though only a second had passed between being in the university, hunted by a monstrous man, and finding himself lying on a sofa. He sat up, surprisingly without difficulty. His body felt light and energized, nothing like the battered state it had been in moments before. Although, he couldn¡¯t be entirely sure it was just moments ago. Some time must have passed. The question was, how much? The only source of light came from a dim night lamp on a wooden table in the corner of the room. Next to it lay a notebook and pen. The lamp¡¯s soft glow cast eerie shadows that danced across the bare walls, revealing their rough orange brick texture. The ceiling soared high above, punctuated by a network of pipes crisscrossing the expanse, lending the space an industrial touch. There were no windows, making it impossible to discern the time of day or night. Mioray instinctively reached into his pockets but found them empty. His phone wasn¡¯t there. Thinking back, he couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d had it. Was it still with him when he was running from the giant man? Or had he lost it during the explosion in the cafeteria? That thought led him to another startling realization. His right arm. It was intact, seamlessly connected to his body, with no visible scars or sutures. He moved it around experimentally, though he¡¯d already done so without realizing it. Still, he needed to confirm it responded to his commands. It did, smoothly, without hindrance. But that wasn¡¯t the only surprise. Mioray rolled up the unfamiliar white T-shirt he was wearing and examined his torso. No holes. No indication that it had been partially blown open, no sign that his heart had been exposed beneath shattered ribs. There were only two plausible explanations for this. Either the attack on the university had been nothing more than a dream, or Mioray possessed the same regenerative ability as the monster. The door to the room opened with a loud creak. Mioray¡¯s head snapped toward it. It was a steel roll-up door, coated in green paint, and a black-haired woman stood there, rolling it up. Her hair was braided, and she wore blue sports shorts paired with a white tracksuit with blue sleeves. Her expression was blank, at least until she spotted Mioray sitting on the sofa. Her amber eyes widened, and her mouth opened in surprise. An amber flower pin in her hair accentuated the color of her eyes. Without a word, she moved toward Mioray like a gust of wind. Stopping in front of him, she began gesturing with her hands. Mioray recognized it being sign language. He blinked, confused. Did she think he understood it? ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t know sign language,¡± he said, a guilty look crossing his face. The woman paused, tapping on her chin with eyebrows raised slightly. She glanced around before holding both hands up, palms facing her, and wiggling her fingers. Mioray didn¡¯t understand that either, but she had already turned to the table, picking up the notebook and pen. As she moved back to him, she scribbled something quickly on the page and then held it out for him to read. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯re not supposed to,¡± Mioray read aloud. He frowned, tilting his head. ¡°Not supposed to what?¡± The woman crossed her arms under her chest, her brows furrowing. Mioray¡¯s guilt grew. Clearly, he¡¯d said something wrong. ¡°Oh, wait, I get it,¡± he said after a beat, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. ¡°You mean I¡¯m not supposed to know sign language?¡± The woman tucked the notebook under her arm and then made a sign with her hands: her right fist, with her index finger pointing forward, tapped twice against her left hand, which was held similarly but at a different angle. Mioray had no idea what it meant but decided it probably signified agreement. ¡°Where am I? How did I get here?¡± he asked. It seemed like she might be deaf, but she could understand him, likely through lip-reading or a hearing aid. From his vantage point, Mioray couldn¡¯t see whether she wore an aid, and it would be rude to stare. The woman began writing again. Her pen moved swiftly across the page, showing she was used to this method of communication. When she turned the notebook toward him, her handwriting was neat and elegant, written in clean cursive. ¡°You¡¯re safe now,¡± Mioray read aloud. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about what happened to you, and I¡¯m glad you finally regained consciousness.¡± Mioray hesitated. The phrasing was strange. Regained consciousness? But had he even lost it? He remembered being in the university, then suddenly waking up here. His vision had darkened at the end, sure, but he didn¡¯t recall blacking out entirely. The woman waited patiently, holding the notebook in front of her. Mioray noticed there was more written on the page. ¡°My name is Mia¡­ Oh,¡± he muttered, his face flushing. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t see that part at first. It¡¯s nice to meet you, Mia. I¡¯m Mioray.¡± Mia started writing again. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you too,¡± the next page read. ¡°You changed only recently, right?¡± Mioray¡¯s stomach churned as he read the words. What did she mean, ¡°changed¡±? Was it connected to the horrifying wounds he¡¯d somehow recovered from? ¡°It''s a good thing we found you,¡± he continued, his voice muffled. ¡°We¡¯re like you, and we¡¯re taking care of each other.¡± ¡°Mia, I don¡¯t understand,¡± Mioray looked at the woman. The pen scraped against the paper, the sound echoing faintly through the room. Mia smiled reassuringly as she turned the notebook to face him. ¡°We shall get the others and let them know you¡¯re conscious. Then we can talk everything through. You know, Erinel was waiting for you to come back.¡± Mioray¡¯s voice trembled as he read Erinel¡¯s name. Mia was the third person who seemed to know about her. He had been the first, Kevin the second. That meant Erinel was real, that she was somewhere nearby. But something still didn¡¯t add up. ¡°Mia, how long have I been here?¡± Mioray asked cautiously. Her response came in less than three seconds, neatly scrawled on the next page. ¡°Two weeks?!¡± Mioray leapt from the sofa, his sudden movement startling Mia. The notebook and pen fell from her hands. ¡°Shit, I need to get home! I need to know if Juju and Angelika are alright!¡± he shouted. Oh. Right. And Chris and Julie were already dead. For a brief moment, a chilling thought crossed Mioray¡¯s mind. Am I being held hostage here? He bolted for the door. Mia didn¡¯t try to stop him. Instead, she frantically grabbed the notebook and pen from the floor and waved after him. But Mioray didn¡¯t stop. Once outside, he found himself in a corridor lined with identical doors, some wider than the one he¡¯d just come through. The floor was illuminated by harsh, cold lighting from overhead LED lamps. From the look of it, the place was a storage facility. Was it underground? He scanned the walls for exit signs but didn¡¯t see any. Fantastic. He would have to run blindly. As Mioray moved, his thoughts raced. Two weeks had passed. Two whole weeks, with no memory of it. Worse, Mia had only said he¡¯d been here for two weeks. Who knew how much time had passed between the giant man¡¯s rampage at the university and his arrival at this facility? Last he remembered, he¡¯d been in a terrible state, missing an arm and fatally wounded. Now, aside from his still-missing left arm, he was fine. No modern medicine could account for this. How much time had really passed? ¡°Hey, where are you running, funny guy?¡± The voice came from a door rolled halfway up, revealing a storage room that looked like a garage. Mioray stepped inside. Tools hung on the walls, and in the center of the space was a car with blue flame decals, sitting on a vehicle lift. It was an old model, one of the rare types still using wheels instead of leveels, the anti-gravity modules powered by stardust. Mioray¡¯s thoughts briefly wandered. Stardust ¨C bronze-like sand that emitted high heat ¨C was mined from deserts and had only recently been rediscovered after being lost for centuries. It was so volatile it could burn flesh if held with bare hands. The name came from ancient beliefs that sand absorbed energy from starlight. He shook his head. Random facts, historical or not, always had a way of overtaking his mind at the worst times. A man emerged from beneath the car, dressed in overalls, his face smudged with grease. He wiped his hands on a cloth before extending one in greeting. ¡°You¡¯re the new armless guy, right? Make yourself at home. So, what¡¯s your story?¡± Mioray froze, not taking the man¡¯s hand. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as the world continued to unravel around him. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Cat got your tongue?¡± the man teased, laughing. ¡°Happens sometimes when people meet me.¡± He paused, raising an eyebrow as if realizing something. ¡°Oh, wait. I haven¡¯t introduced myself yet, have I? Maybe you already know who I am?¡± Yes. Mioray knew exactly who this man was. Terry Strands. They weren¡¯t acquainted, but everyone in the city knew Terry. He had been a prodigious racer, a legend in the world of competitive racing. His story was one of triumph. He rose from obscurity to become the pride of Reques City. But his fame had ended abruptly after he caused a reckless, high-speed crash on the city streets that claimed the lives of three people. Including Terry Strands himself. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Mioray¡¯s chest tightened. A man who was supposed to be dead was now casually working on car maintenance in some obscure storage facility? It was too much. Without a word, Mioray turned and walked away. By the time he reached the corridor, he was running again. ¡°Hey, funny guy! Don¡¯t be afraid!¡± Terry called after him, his voice echoing. ¡°Come back! I won¡¯t hurt you, I promise!¡± Yeah, sure, Mioray thought grimly, picking up speed. When someone says they won¡¯t hurt you, there¡¯s a good chance they plan to do just that. The corridor twisted and turned, a maze of identical walls and doors. Mioray took every corner at random, hoping to lose Terry. But his reckless sprint ended in frustration when he hit a dead end. Behind him, Terry¡¯s voice grew louder, closer. Why is this place a maze? Mioray slammed his fist against one of the doors in frustration. It wobbled under his strike, letting out a dissatisfied creak as hot steam hissed from its edges. The temperature in the corridor was cool, making the heat from the door seem all the more out of place. He didn¡¯t have time to think. Grabbing the handle, he rolled the door up, slipped inside, and pulled it shut behind him. The room was dark, filled with thick steam. ¡°Hey, funny guy, where¡¯d you go?¡± Terry¡¯s voice was right outside the door. Mioray leaned against it, closing his eyes and holding his breath. Please, just go away. Don¡¯t look here. Just go. His heart pounded as Terry muttered something, his voice moving closer, then receding. A few seconds later, it faded entirely. Mioray exhaled, relief washing over him. Okay. I¡¯ll wait a few minutes, then get out of here. The room was impossible to see through, with steam clouding every corner. Still, a faint yellow glow caught Mioray¡¯s attention from the opposite end. With nothing better to do, he made his way toward it. To his surprise, he found another, smaller room. It looked like a bathroom. The walls were covered in small yellow tiles, and the floor was made of larger grey stone plates. A mirror hung above a sink, a towel rested on a hanger, and a small wooden bench held some folded clothes. In the center of the room, a white ceramic bathtub sat beneath a brass faucet, which poured nearly boiling water into the tub. The lack of ventilation explained the steam filling the space. The bathtub was overflowing, water spilling over its edges and flowing into a square steel drain set into the grey stone plate below. Without a second thought, Mioray reached for the faucet to turn off the water, when suddenly, a girl with wet auburn hair plastered to her face surfaced from the bathtub. Mioray froze. His heart skipped a beat. The girl looked about his age, and she was completely naked. Her body, lean and elegant, wasn¡¯t what shocked him most, although, admittedly, it was the first time he¡¯d seen a real woman unclothed. No, it was her skin. Rationally, someone bathing in such scalding water should have flushed, pink skin at the very least. Realistically, they¡¯d have third-degree burns. But her skin was perfectly normal, smooth and unblemished. If it weren¡¯t for the rising steam, no one would have suspected the water was even hot. A cold shiver ran down Mioray¡¯s spine, the chill spreading from the inside out. It wasn¡¯t from the steam, nor from the girl¡¯s appearance. It was from her eyes. Her piercing green gaze met his, sharp and unyielding as she brushed her hair out of her face. ¡°I don¡¯t remember asking for company,¡± she said coldly, nodding toward the towel hanging on the wall. ¡°Do you mind?¡± Wordlessly, like a fool, Mioray reached for the towel and handed it to her. Her unblinking eyes stayed locked on him the entire time, her gaze like a frost-covered blade. She snatched the towel and wrapped it around herself in one smooth motion, water dripping onto the floor in steady splashes. ¡°Are you an idiot?¡± Her voice rose steadily, carrying the weight of rising anger. ¡°What the hell are you staring at? Want me to beat some sense into you?¡± ¡°No!¡± Mioray stepped back, both hand and stump raised in surrender. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t know anyone was in here. It was an accident, I swear!¡± ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± Her glare hardened, and her eyes narrowed with dangerous intent. ¡°Watch me accidentally kick your ass!¡± Mioray didn¡¯t wait for her to make good on that promise. He spun around and bolted for the door, heart pounding in his chest. I do not need this right now! He rolled up the door and darted back into the corridor. He didn¡¯t care if he ran into Terry Strands again. Anything was better than being caught by that girl. Two arms or one, Mioray had no doubt she¡¯d overpower him. Her presence had a kind of cold, blizzard-like weight to it, and just thinking about it made him shudder. The corridor outside was empty, so Mioray continued running aimlessly, unsure of where the exit might be. There was no sign of Mia, Terry, or the girl with the cold, deadly stare. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowed to a stop, trying to gather his thoughts. But just as he paused, a small voice cut through the silence, startling him. ¡°Why are you running around? I¡¯ve seen you pass by three times already. Isn¡¯t it pointless? Or do you have nothing better to do?¡± Mioray whipped his head around. There was a narrow gap between two storage rooms, and in the space between them sat a young boy on the floor. He had a lollipop sticking out of the corner of his mouth. The boy wasn¡¯t scolding Mioray. His crystal-blue eyes had a sincere, curious look, as if he was genuinely interested in Mioray¡¯s frantic running. Ironically, Mioray himself couldn¡¯t come up with a good explanation for what he was doing. He had just learned that two weeks of his life had vanished, that a murderous stranger had torn apart the university he attended, and that two of his friends were dead. And so the panic had taken over, and he got fixated on finding an exit. ¡°And you¡¯ve already started off on bad terms with Farah,¡± the boy chuckled. ¡°Trust me, she¡¯s terrible at letting things go. You¡¯re doomed.¡± Farah, Mioray assumed, was the girl from the bathtub. Great. Now he had to keep an eye out for her too. ¡°Listen, uh¡­ what¡¯s your name?¡± Mioray asked, unsure how to respond to the boy''s remarks. He hoped the kid wasn¡¯t a threat. ¡°Matt,¡± the boy replied simply. ¡°Listen, Matt, can you help me get out of here? I really need to get home and let my parents know I¡¯m alright. I¡¯ve already made them worry once, and now I¡¯ve done it again.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re worried,¡± Matt said with a shrug. For a moment, Mioray thought he saw a shadow flicker across the boy¡¯s face, but it was gone in an instant. Matt was still smiling, lazily shifting the lollipop from one corner of his mouth to the other. ¡°But everyone¡¯s looking for you. I heard Kevin¡¯s getting annoyed that you¡¯re running away from everyone. Let¡¯s go to his room. Miss Erinel¡¯s there too, waiting.¡± The boy hopped on his feet and motioned for Mioray to follow. Mioray curled his lips. There was no point in running anymore. He couldn¡¯t outrun the truth forever. It was always there, lurking around the corner, waiting to catch him off guard. Today, it had taken the form of Erinel. He wanted to see her again, but he was also terrified. What mess did I get myself into? he thought, his gaze drifting to the wall. Nothing has been normal since the day I woke up in that morgue. Reluctantly, he followed Matt, a growing sense of unease gnawing at him. His mind circled back to that fateful night at the bar. Was it a coincidence that Erinel had shown up on his birthday? Or had she orchestrated it? The other bartender said he¡¯d never heard of her. If she wasn¡¯t employed there, how did she get behind the counter? Why did she serve only him all evening? The more he thought about it, the more it felt like she¡¯d been stalking him. The Dismantler is still out there, Mioray thought, his gaze dropping to his left arm, or, more precisely, the stump where his arm used to be. Anyone could be the killer. Deep down, he already knew what Erinel was going to tell him. He was just too afraid to hear it. ¡°So, what¡¯s your name?¡± Matt asked, glancing back at him. ¡°Mioray.¡± ¡°What happened to your arm?¡± ¡°Ugh, I¡¯m not really sure. I woke up one day, and it was just¡­ gone.¡± ¡°What, really?¡± The boy blinked, confused. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be more to it.¡± ¡°I guess,¡± Mioray replied, sighing. ¡°But that¡¯s all I know.¡± ¡°Want a lollipop, Mioray?¡± Matt opened his palm, revealing three lollipops wrapped in red, green, and yellow foil. ¡°No, thanks,¡± Mioray declined automatically. The last time he put something edible in his mouth, it didn¡¯t end well. He didn¡¯t want to repeat the experience. ¡°It¡¯s alright. You will get used to it,¡± Matt unwrapped all three lollipops in a single smooth motion before shoving them into his mouth at once. He spoke around them, his voice muffled. ¡°You ever notice how candies never taste like the real fruit they¡¯re based on? It¡¯s weird, right? Strawberries, grapes, bananas ¨C they all taste different in candy form. You know why?¡± Before Mioray could answer, Matt continued. ¡°It¡¯s because the artificial flavors are based on how fruits used to taste, like the old varieties that don¡¯t exist anymore due to the global drought.¡± Mioray had heard about that before. It was all tied to project Messiriah, a desperate effort to preserve plants, animals, and other life forms. To adapt to the harsh, changing environment, most species had to be genetically modified, which led to the extinction of many original varieties and the birth of new ones. He¡¯d never really thought about how it affected something as simple as fruit, but it made sense. ¡°Yeah, I think that was a thing even before the drought,¡± Mioray said. ¡°The best example is banana flavoring. It¡¯s actually based on an old variety of bananas that tasted better, but they went extinct because of a fungal disease. So every time people complain that banana flavor doesn¡¯t taste like real bananas, they¡¯re wrong. It does taste like bananas, just a better variety than the ones we have now.¡± ¡°Whoa, seriously?¡± Matt grinned, his eyes lighting up. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m talking about! Can you tell me more about it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hardly the time for candy trivia,¡± came a voice from the open room ahead. Mioray didn¡¯t need to see the speaker to know it was Kevin. The room they stepped into was so pompous it felt out of place within the storage facility. It looked like a high-end lawyer¡¯s office. Tall bookshelves, crammed with thick tomes embossed in gold lettering, were built into the back wall. A large, polished red-wood desk stood in front of the shelves, sitting on a plush green carpet with ornate brown patterns. A faux fireplace flickered with soft orange light, its flames little more than projections. ??Kevin sat at the desk in a massive leather chair, his head tilted downward, his attention focused on his fingers. He was clipping his nails with a small, silver clipper, maintaining an almost obsessive rhythm. His eyes flicked toward Mioray and Matt as they entered, but his fingers didn¡¯t slow. Each clipped nail fell to the tabletop, joining a growing pile of discarded crescents. Mioray leaned against the wall for balance. He felt dizzy, disoriented. Everything felt so surreal. Just a short time ago, he¡¯d seen Kevin at the university, stepping in to help during the attack. Kevin had fought off the monstrous man with a bizarre weapon that looked like fingernails. But now he knew for sure that the weapon was Kevin¡¯s actual fingernails. Every time Kevin clipped one off, it grew back in an instant, fresh and sharp like the edge of a blade. That wasn¡¯t normal. None of this was normal. ¡°Well, well, well, our sleeping beauty finally decided to wake up,¡± Kevin said with a scowl. ¡°Took you long enough. I was starting to think you were just weak and incompetent. Now I¡¯m sure of it.¡± ¡°Kevin, don¡¯t be so harsh on Mioray,¡± Matt spoke up, defending him. ¡°I¡¯m sure, with a little more time, he¡¯d figure things out.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for your opinion, Matt,¡± Kevin snapped, his tone sharp as the snipping of his nail clippers grew more forceful. ¡°You figured it out on your own, and it didn¡¯t take you a whole month to do it.¡± ¡°Everyone has their own pace,¡± a familiar voice chimed in. The moment Mioray heard it, he jolted upright as if he¡¯d been stung. He¡¯d been wondering where Erinel was, and now he had his answer. She was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, her posture as composed as ever. Their eyes met, and she offered him a soft, knowing smile. ¡°Welcome, Mioray,¡± she said, her voice smooth as silk. ¡°It¡¯s been a while. Did you miss me?¡± Her question caught him off guard. How was he supposed to answer that? Did he miss her? In a way, yes. From the moment he first saw her, she had never truly left his thoughts. But maybe that was only because everything in his life had spiraled out of control since that moment. He couldn¡¯t be sure. His mind flickered back to the hospital. Was she really there, or was it just a hallucination caused by the sweet gas that knocked everyone else out but left me awake? He thought of the university. Did I really see her then, or was it just the final trick of my mind fading into unconsciousness from blood loss? He wanted an explanation. Needed one. But deep down, he wasn¡¯t sure he was ready for it. Every answer would bring him closer to the truth, and part of him feared that truth would be worse than the confusion. Since the moment he woke up in the morgue, nothing had felt real. Erinel crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee, her gaze never leaving his. ¡°I understand your hesitation,¡± she said calmly, as if she¡¯d read his thoughts. ¡°So, I¡¯ll lay it all out for you. No riddles, no games. You deserve to know.¡± Her eyes softened, but her words hit like a hammer. ¡°Yes, Mioray,¡± she said, her voice clear and deliberate. ¡°It¡¯s true. You¡¯re dead.¡± cHApTEr 4. nEw gAmE plus (2 of 3) Dead. The sound of the word echoed through his mind. It was the same sound bells make when they toll. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. It would be so easy to laugh it off, to conclude that they were pranking him, to believe they were all delusional. Mioray could conjure a dozen reasons to dismiss what Erinel had just said, each one more believable than the idea that he was dead. Was there any point in arguing? Wouldn¡¯t it be better to accept it first and figure out what it meant later? He glanced around the room. Kevin was still clipping his ever-growing fingernails, while Matt chewed on his lollipops, watching Mioray with the steady gaze of innocent, crystal-blue eyes. Erinel sat in a chair, clothed in a black short-sleeved dress cinched at the waist with a slim leather belt, tapping her knee with a single finger, the one adorned with that ring that didn¡¯t suit her. The jewel was so white it seemed to glow from within. If they were teasing him, they weren¡¯t laughing. If they thought it was something significant, they were far too casual about it. What does it mean to be dead? Mioray wondered. Shouldn¡¯t everything turn black as your consciousness succumbs to eternal darkness? And the worst part, you wouldn¡¯t even realize it. Nothing would exist for you anymore. You¡¯d just fade away. There is no afterlife. Only a beginning and an end. The concept was simple, but humanity had always struggled to accept it. That¡¯s why they¡¯d crafted gods and higher powers to fill the void. From those beliefs, religions were born. Initially it was a source of comfort for the suffering, but in time, religions became tools for control, for war, for hatred against those who thought differently. It was the cycle of humankind: to go to extremes and take anything, no matter how sacred, and forge it into a weapon. Another extreme was the belief in something after death, a reward or punishment meted out by some higher force. It raised questions of justice. Should sinners suffer forever, or was there a point where they might be forgiven? But did everyone deserve forgiveness? What about those who led cruel lives and left others to struggle in their wake? ¡°Oh, there you are!¡± The sudden voice cut through Mioray¡¯s spiraling thoughts that led him deeper into the abyss of existential dread. Terry draped an arm around Mioray¡¯s shoulders, grinning as if they¡¯d known each other for years. ¡°Don¡¯t run away from me like that again, okay?¡± Terry chided. ¡°I was looking for you everywhere and even ran into Farah. Boy, is she mad about something!¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you be, if someone violated your privacy?¡± came Farah''s sharp response. She had joined Terry, with Mia trailing close behind. Farah had changed clothes and was now wearing a long black puffer coat, something more suited for a freezing winter than the middle of autumn. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind if you violated mine,¡± Terry grinned devilishly. Suddenly, the air chilled. Mioray knew without a doubt that Farah was the source. Her glare was colder than the depths of Snowrealm, and people said that Snowrealm was even colder than the world during the last ice age, assuming the realm existed at all. After all, it was part of yet another religion. Before things could escalate, Mia intervened. She raised her hands, palms down, and made a slow, downward gesture ¨C once, twice. She followed it with a series of signs Mioray didn¡¯t have time to register, but Farah clearly understood. She folded her arms, irritated but placated. ¡°Trust me, I¡¯m already doing too much to tolerate him,¡± she muttered. The energy in the room shifted. Too lively, too chaotic. Kevin set his silver clipper aside and cleared his throat with authority, drawing all eyes to him. ¡°If you¡¯re all going to join us, I expect you to behave,¡± he said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with a light gray microfiber cloth. ¡°I don¡¯t like it this crowded in my room. It ruins the mood. And you, Mioray, if you have something to say, just say it. Don¡¯t stand there brooding like a fool.¡± Every pair of eyes locked onto Mioray. It was uncomfortable, having them all watch him like that. They were supposed to be like him. People with strange, inexplicable abilities. He knew for sure that Terry had died almost a year ago. Was Kevin ¡°dead¡± too? Something about him was undeniably off, especially with the way his fingernails grew back so quickly, not to mention how he controlled swarms of them at the university. Then there were Erinel, Mia, Farah, and Matt. Even Matt, the boy stuffing his mouth with lollipops, was supposedly ¡°dead.¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± Mioray hesitated. He¡¯d never imagined asking this out loud, not before waking up in the morgue. ¡°What does it mean to be dead?¡± Erinel rose from her chair, her dress falling effortlessly into place, its lightweight fabric flowing with a subtle grace. The skirt ended in a delicate ruffled hem, adding a touch of elegance to her movement. ¡°Typically, it means the soul leaves the body and departs the living world,¡± she said, her tone patronizing, as if explaining basic math to a child. ¡°But that¡¯s not what happened to you. In your case, your soul clings to your body rather than residing within it as it should. You¡¯ve noticed it, haven¡¯t you? Even though you see through your eyes, your consciousness feels like it¡¯s outside your body.¡± Mioray didn¡¯t respond, but his heart, if it still counted as his, twinged. She was right. He hadn¡¯t thought about it much, but there had been moments when he couldn¡¯t ignore it. The sensation of moving his body like a puppeteer tugging strings. There was a lag between his intent to move and the body actually responding. That hadn¡¯t happened before. Not before his last birthday. ¡°The sensation is similar to what people describe during near-death experiences,¡± Erinel continued. ¡°But not quite the same. You see, they¡¯re outside their bodies but can¡¯t move them. You, on the other hand, are fully awake. And that has consequences. You don¡¯t get tired. You don¡¯t need sleep or food. Your body heals any wound. That¡¯s the power of your soul, no longer bound by the body. You¡¯ve heard of objects becoming possessed, haven¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Like when a part of the owner¡¯s soul attaches to a personal object, turning it into an artifact with special properties?¡± Mioray ventured, his voice uncertain. It was an old belief people used to hold. ¡°Exactly,¡± Erinel nodded. ¡°But in your case, your entire soul was attached to your body ¨C like it¡¯s just another object. And in doing so, it has granted you miraculous properties.¡± Mioray¡¯s hand brushed the stump of his arm, a nervous, absent gesture. Being dead? I could accept that, maybe. But all this other stuff? A soul clinging to a body like a haunted trinket? Supernatural powers? It all sounded like something ripped straight from a comic book. Maybe it was just a figure of speech? He glanced at Terry, hoping for reassurance. Terry just winked, his grin as sharp as ever. If this was really Terry Strands, he didn¡¯t seem to have any objections to Erinel¡¯s explanation. Maybe I did die, Mioray thought, scanning the faces of those around him. No one wore an expression of doubt. They were calm. Too calm. Like people long used to the idea. Maybe this is what the afterlife looks like, he considered. Not the end, but a pocket world branching from the real one. Like a ¡°new game plus¡± after the credits roll. A continuation where you keep your progress and start over stronger than before. It was a comforting thought. But it made zero sense. In the ¡°new game plus¡± player restarts the game from the beginning, while Mioray¡¯s life had simply continued. Still, it felt more plausible than Erinel¡¯s version of events. Kevin adjusted his glasses, his gaze steady as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his crossed fingers. ¡°And I gather your ability is to detach parts of your body,¡± he said. ¡°Or at least your remaining arm, as you demonstrated at the university.¡± Mioray¡¯s shoulders slumped as he caught the sound of Farah¡¯s scoff. He lowered his head. Launching his arm forward was a pretty lame ability, he¡¯d admit. Sure, it saved Juju from imminent death, but what then? Running around with an arm skittering on the ground, connected to his body by black, suture-like threads, was anything but impressive. Worse still, he had no idea how to reattach it. ¡°What we¡¯ve found is that these abilities usually manifest in a way connected to how you died,¡± Erinel said, hopping onto the edge of Kevin¡¯s table. ¡°You¡¯ve probably figured it out already, but your body was dismembered, and that¡¯s how you got your ability.¡± ¡°I can produce sticky slime!¡± Matt suddenly interjected, raising his hands with a wide grin. His palms were coated in an amber-colored substance, viscous like plant resin. ¡°I choked on lollipops, and that¡¯s how I got my superpowers!¡± ¡°Strong little guy, eh?¡± Terry laughed, pouncing on Matt to tickle him. The boy burst into giggles, squirming away and hiding behind Mia, his eyes scrunched shut in pure joy. Mioray watched, stunned. Is it really okay to talk about how you died so casually? he thought. It was supposed to be tragic, but Matt acted as if it were just another part of his life. Or death. ¡°Well, no need to tell you how I died,¡± Terry said, his grin as sharp as ever. ¡°It was all over the news at the start of the year, yeah? Now I¡¯m my own engine. Just give me a couple of wheels, and I¡¯ll show you how amazing I am!¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Mia¡¯s eyes brightened as she started signing eagerly. Her fingers moved with fluid precision, but once again, Mioray couldn¡¯t make sense of it. ¡°Why are you telling him all this?¡± Farah sighed, arms crossed in disapproval. Mia¡¯s hands moved with renewed intensity, clearly insisting on something. ¡°Okay, okay!¡± Farah relented, exasperation lacing her tone. ¡°Mia here was robbed by two thugs. But as if that wasn¡¯t enough, they slit her throat. Now, when she uses her voice, she produces destructive sound waves.¡± Terry leaned toward Mioray, his voice low. ¡°Trust me, funny guy, you wouldn¡¯t want to hear it.¡± ¡°What are you mumbling about?¡± Farah¡¯s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ¡°Nothing, nothing,¡± Terry said, straightening up with a playful grin. ¡°But come on, Farah, your story¡¯s the best one. Share it with the class!¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Farah shot back, her eyes like cold steel. ¡°And why should I?¡± Her tone made it clear that any further pushing would be a mistake. Terry and Farah¡¯s bickering escalated from jabs to threats of violence, with Farah¡¯s fists twitching in anticipation. Mia tried to calm her by gripping her shoulders, grounding her with gentle pressure. ¡°Some people treat their death as something personal. You have to understand,¡± Erinel explained, her gentle smile radiating a warmth that reminded Mioray of his mother. Still, that warmth didn¡¯t reach him. He felt downcast. He wouldn¡¯t want to talk to strangers about his death, either. It felt far too intimate, like exposing a scar too raw to touch. Some people might share it freely, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to. But there was a bigger problem. Erinel¡¯s words confirmed what he¡¯d suspected. He¡¯d been dismembered. His thoughts often circled around that idea, but it was still hard to accept. The only evidence of it now was his left arm, the stump with its dark sutures. And it couldn¡¯t explain the full story. He still didn¡¯t know why it happened or how he¡¯d died. ¡°Surely you have your suspicions. Don¡¯t tell me you haven¡¯t figured it out,¡± Kevin said, his eyes sharp as a knife¡¯s edge. ¡°Who else dismembers people in this city, leaving behind all their body parts except for the left arm?¡± There weren¡¯t many options. In fact, there was only one. Mioray¡¯s stomach twisted as he forced himself to confront it. The only logical conclusion. There wasn''t a particular reason he died. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. ¡°The Dismantler,¡± he exhaled, as if uttering the nickname of the murderer would seal his fate. Saying it felt like handing himself his own death sentence. It¡¯s done, he thought. I¡¯m dead, and there¡¯s no changing that. ¡°Precisely,¡± Erinel confirmed. ¡°But he killed sixteen people before me, and they stayed dead,¡± Mioray argued. ¡°Why was I the one brought back?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like you were chosen,¡± Erinel replied, her gaze drifting to the distance. Her smile grew faintly wistful. ¡°I had an elixir made by witches. If consumed shortly before death, it binds the soul to the body.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, witches?¡± Mioray asked, disbelief creeping into his voice. Everything he heard teetered on the edge of absurdity. It would be sad if it turned out he¡¯d lost his mind and was being held in a psychiatric clinic without realizing it. ¡°Those who learned how to alter the fabric of reality,¡± Erinel replied. ¡°In other words, scientists,¡± Kevin added, stepping in like a lifeline. ¡°You¡¯ve heard about pharaummies?¡± Mioray pressed a palm to his face. More myths. Great. What did he know about pharaummies? They were said to be a race that looked human but had bronze-colored skin and two hearts. While alive, only one heart beats. But after they died, the second heart took over, giving them a second life and granting them immortality. It sounded eerily similar to his current situation. ¡°Apparently, this elixir, or serum, is made from pharaummy genes,¡± Kevin continued. ¡°Hard to believe they¡¯re real, but seeing as we¡¯re here wasting time, even though we ought to be dead, it¡¯s hard to know what to believe anymore.¡± It¡¯s hard to know what to believe anymore. That was putting it mildly. Mioray¡¯s mind was already overloaded. The flood of information had flipped his world upside down too many times. Dead people coming back to life, an elixir made from the genes of a mythological race, witch-scientists, and special powers... What¡¯s next? Are they going to tell him the world is flat? He needed to think. Pharaummies aside, there were still some questions left. There was no guarantee everything they said was true, but for now, Mioray had to play along. After all, his own body had changed after he, allegedly, died and woke up in the morgue. He didn¡¯t eat. He didn¡¯t sleep. His mortal wounds healed. None of that made sense under normal logic. ¡°The elixir,¡± he murmured, narrowing his eyes. ¡°Was it the Corpse Reviver cocktail?¡± Erinel nodded, her expression confirming it. Mioray snorted, letting out a bitter laugh. Not subtle at all. Corpse Reviver. Of course, that was Erinel¡¯s role. And he was the corpse. The name suited him a little too well. ¡°Alright. So I¡¯m dead now, but not really. And my body heals magically. So why didn¡¯t my left arm grow back?¡± ¡°For that, you need to understand how healing works,¡± Kevin explained, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. ¡°It only returns your body to the state it was in before you consumed the serum.¡± ¡°But I had both my arms at the time.¡± Kevin glanced at Erinel, his eyes seeking confirmation. She nodded, lips pressed into a firm line, as if weighing the gravity of it all. ¡°Then I don¡¯t know,¡± Kevin admitted with a frustrated frown. He clearly hated not having an explanation. ¡°The way it works is that all our body cells tend to stay together. If your body is cut into pieces, the parts will move toward the one still housing the soul. It works with flesh, blood, and everything else. In a sense, your body will regenerate faster if it¡¯s fully destroyed. It¡¯s easier for individual cells to return to the main body than for an entire limb, like your left arm, to reattach itself.¡± The implication was groundbreaking. If Mioray trusted what Kevin had said, it meant there was a chance to get his left arm back. He could barely contain his joy. Suddenly, everything around him seemed brighter. Even the ongoing argument between Terry and Farah felt light-hearted, like two old friends joking with each other. Two old friends... Chris and Julie weren¡¯t exactly old friends, but they were dear to him. While Mioray could continue living as a dead person brought back to life, for them, it was over. And if that exploding stranger really had been targeting him, then it was Mioray''s fault they died. No, I¡¯m sure he was targeting me, his heart sank as the realization hit him. We¡¯re the same. He¡¯s dead too, and no amount of damage can stop him. ¡°This man that attacked the university, is he part of this too?¡± Mioray asked. For some reason, the question made Terry and Farah stop fighting. Everyone turned to Erinel. Does she know something? Mioray wondered. ¡°We don¡¯t know much about him yet,¡± she replied. ¡°I wasn''t the one who gave him the elixir, and we¡¯re not aware of how he died. The only thing for sure is that he was hunting you for some reason.¡± ¡°What happened to him after we left?¡± Mioray pressed. ¡°As soon as we escaped the university, he left too,¡± Kevin said. ¡°I have my reasons to believe he was reaching his limits. His regeneration rate is too intense. Normally, it takes days or even weeks to restore the body from the state he was in. But it must also put a strain on the soul and its ability to control the body. Just because we can¡¯t be killed doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t be rendered unconscious, like what happened to you.¡± He glanced at Mioray. ¡°It can happen either from blood loss, which is a rookie mistake since we can control the flow of our blood as long as the heart is intact, or from brain destruction or having it disconnected from the spinal cord.¡± ¡°Like a zombie!¡± Matt groaned, extending his arms and staggering toward Mioray, mimicking a walking corpse intent on feasting on his flesh. ¡°But how did he know where to find me in the first place?¡± Mioray asked, gently stopping Matt¡¯s advance. ¡°That¡¯s something for us to figure out,¡± Kevin said. ¡°Any other questions?¡± Plenty. Mioray didn¡¯t even know where to start. He glanced at Erinel, who tilted her head playfully. If he didn¡¯t know where to begin, maybe it was best to begin from the start. ¡°How did you know I was going to die?¡± he asked. It felt like the most logical question. If he was the victim of the Dismantler, then the serial killer might have known who Mioray was. And for all he knew, that killer could be in this room right now. ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked,¡± Erinel said, rising to her feet. ¡°When I look at a human, I can see if the time of their death is coming soon. And in turn, they can see me as well. You walked into the bar and saw me. That¡¯s how I knew,¡± she lowered her gaze, almost apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to die, but I¡¯m not supposed to change the fate of humans. That¡¯s not my purpose. My purpose is to guide the souls of the dead to the afterlife.¡± Of all the strange things Mioray had heard that day, this was the most unexpected. Until now, he¡¯d thought "soul" and "afterlife" were being used as metaphorical stand-ins for more scientific concepts. But Erinel¡¯s words weren¡¯t metaphorical at all. They were as straightforward as they could be. ¡°Excuse me?¡± he said, his brows raised. ¡°You heard me right,¡± Erinel replied, clearly amused by his reaction. ¡°When people die, their souls don¡¯t always know where to go next. If too many souls linger in this world for too long, bad things happen. That¡¯s where I come in. I lead them to the other side. But these days, there are more souls than there are guides like me. You can blame the Era of Survival. So many died during that time that we¡¯re still stumbling across long-wandering souls to this day. That¡¯s why my kind needs help. And that¡¯s where you come in.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying... you¡¯ve been dead like me for a long time?¡± Mioray asked, still trying to piece everything together. He was missing something crucial. She¡¯s only visible to those who are about to die? She guides souls to the afterlife? That didn¡¯t sound like the role of a human, even if she looked like one. ¡°Oh, silly, of course not.¡± Erinel chuckled, walking toward him. Her smile was warm, but her hazel eyes were sharp with seriousness. ¡°I¡¯ll let you in on a secret. I¡¯m not human. I¡¯m¨C¡± ¡°Grim reaper?¡± Mioray blurted out before he could stop himself. The realization had hit him so suddenly that he couldn¡¯t keep it to himself. All the loose ends had connected. A mix of snarky, delighted, and disappointed reactions followed. People started moving around. Mia and Terry, both looking sour, pulled out their wallets and passed some cash to Kevin and Farah. Kevin¡¯s face remained neutral, but Farah was smirking with satisfaction. ¡°Another idiot joins our ranks,¡± she muttered as she counted her winnings. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Mioray asked, thoroughly confused. ¡°Miss Erinel doesn¡¯t like being called that,¡± Matt explained, trying to sound wise. ¡°There was a bet on whether you¡¯d say it. Looks like Kevin and Farah won.¡± Mioray blinked, dumbfounded. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with calling her a grim reaper?¡± He glanced at Erinel, who looked distinctly unamused. ¡°I¡¯ll allow it this one time,¡± she said with a tight smile. Her hand came down lightly on his head in a playful pat, but the intent behind it felt far from friendly. ¡°No, I¡¯m not a grim reaper. My race is called greanrips. You can see where the confusion came from, but unfortunately, the wrong name stuck.¡± Greanrips? Mioray glanced around at the others, but no one seemed fazed. No one was surprised to hear there was yet another race mixed into all this. But for Mioray, it was one bombshell too many. He stared at Erinel. She looked like a normal woman, but now he was supposed to believe she belonged to some unknown race called greanrips. He wanted to trust her. He really did. But the unease wouldn¡¯t leave him. Things had become a little clearer, but there were still too many unanswered questions. The disappearance of the Dismantler. The goal of the exploding man. The creators of the so-called elixir. And those were just the beginning. He could accept that he was dead. That much was undeniable. But he still had no idea what it all meant.