He looked around, scanning the area, but as far as his eyes could see, there were no signs of life. Nothing. Just the eerie, unsettling silence of a place long abandoned.
"Casualties are piling up. As you can see," Eli spoke casually, as if commenting on the weather, but Ezra noticed the subtle edge in his voice. Tense. Controlled. Like someone trying not to say too much. "Rift zones have been opening randomly lately. Creatures crawling out like rats."
Ezra swallowed, his gaze drifting over the empty streets. The thought of what had happened here made his skin crawl.
"I suppose you're the only survivor from District 5," Eli added, his voice dropping lower, almost thoughtful. "Strange, isn't it? Three different rift zones opened there… all within a week of each other. Different categories. Different patterns. It doesn't add up."
Ezra frowned. "That's not normal?"
"Not even close," Eli said, his voice low. "Rift zones don't behave like that. Something either is messing with the cycle… or something far worse is brewing. Either way… it's bad."
Ezra's brows knit tighter. "Then how come no one's talking about it?"
Eli shot him a glance, his expression unreadable. "Simple," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Because we were ordered not to. Not a word goes out. Not to the students. Not to the public. Silence keeps the panic at bay."
Before Ezra could ask more, Eli turned away from him, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his trench coat. The heavy fabric slid off his shoulders, falling to the ground in a soft rustle. Underneath, Ezra's eyes widened.
Eli wore a sleek, form-fitting armor, dark gray with subtle, faint lines of glowing silver threading through it like veins. It clung to him from his neck down to his boots, the material almost blending into the shadows. The armor was nothing like the academy uniforms—this was something built for battle, something professional.
"What… is that?" Ezra asked, his voice quiet, almost awed.
Eli flexed his fingers, adjusting the black gloves that seemed to complete his sleek attire. "Standard issue for fieldwork," he said with a faint smirk, though his eyes remained distant as he scanned the chaos unfolding around them. "Can't exactly stroll into places like this wearing academy colors."
"Huh," Ezra muttered, eyeing the coat.
"I'm kidding," Eli added as he casually tied his hair into a loose bun, a few soft pink strands falling over his forehead. "It's custom. When the world doesn't bless you with resonance, you make do with gear. Not all of us get pretty powers handed to us."
Ezra watched as Eli slipped off his glasses, revealing sharp, icy eyes that seemed to take in every detail. A soldier approached, pushing a heavy black briefcase on a trolley.
With precise movements, he snapped it open, revealing an array of meticulously organized weapons—knives, firearms, reinforced gloves, and vials of shimmering liquid. Another soldier handed Eli a sleek pair of tactical goggles, the kind designed for combat, more like high-end sportswear than standard issue.
Eli fitted the goggles over his eyes, the lenses glowing faintly. "Suit up," he said smoothly as if this was nothing more than routine. "It gets ugly from here."
It had been an hour since they arrived, and still, nothing had happened. Ezra sat restlessly on the edge of a makeshift bench, watching the scene unfold while Eli lounged comfortably on a plastic chair, sipping tea like they weren't surrounded by chaos. With one leg crossed over the other, Eli lazily flipped through a newspaper, completely at ease.
Ezra, on the other hand, couldn't stop his eyes from darting around. More and more SUVs and armored trucks rolled in, soldiers in full military gear unloading equipment with practiced precision. Some vehicles were larger than the others, bristling with mounted devices and complex machinery. Huge screens were erected, flashing with real-time data and maps. Thick cables snaked across the ground, plugged into terminals that pulsed with blinking lights.
' What the heck!. Why does he look at ease whilst everyone else is scurrying around'
Ezra glanced between Eli and the soldiers, his nerves on edge as the weight of the situation hit him. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the towering walls that loomed ahead. They stood at the boundary between District 4 and 5, separated by the large looming wall . It had multiple cracks ,weighing with the years .
Multiple buses rumbled to a stop nearby, each one more weathered and beaten than the last. The doors hissed open, and out stepped rows of men dressed in dull, stained construction uniforms. Their faces were pale and expressionless, eyes dull and vacant.
They moved in slow, synchronized patterns, as if guided by invisible strings, their bodies sluggish and stiff like they weren't entirely in control of themselves.Some dragged their feet, others stared blankly ahead, their helmets slightly askew. The whole scene felt unnatural, almost staged—like puppets moving on invisible strings.
Ezra watched in silence, his stomach twisting uneasily at the sight. There had to be at least a couple hundred of them, all stepping off the buses with the same lifeless gait, lining up in eerie silence as soldiers directed them with sharp commands.
"…What's wrong with them?" Ezra whispered, his voice barely audible over the noise.
Eli didn't answer immediately. His eyes narrowed as he observed the scene, his jaw tightening slightly.
" Mind control , the walls need to be repaired quickly."
"Ezra glanced back at the men as they shuffled forward like ghosts, the realization settling heavy in his chest. "…they're being controlled?"
Eli nodded, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Resonance suppression, mind tethering, you name it. Keeps them obedient, useful. Safer for everyone else that way. Or so they say." He scoffed quietly. "It's better not to think too much about it."
Eli barely glanced back at him, his green blue eyes gleaming under the setting sun.
"Standard protocol. We don't want Something breaching the walls, it'll be harder to keep it quiet . We're reinforcing the walls until it's cleared."
Ezra's gaze lingered on the cracks spiderwebbing through the thick concrete, each fissure a silent reminder of whatever force had hit the wall. Whatever caused that… it hadn't been small.