Kaelen doesn't understand what he just did.
His wide, lost eyes fix on the woman's lifeless body. A chill runs down his spine. His stomach contracts, and before he can hold it back, he vomits violently—but not blood, not food—only water. A lot of it. As if his body were trying to purge something beyond the physical.
Pain takes over. His abdomen contracts involuntarily in agonizing waves. He chokes, gasps, and with every spasm, his body begs for relief.
Panting, he supports himself with one hand and slowly turns.
His gaze returns to the woman's outstretched body. A macabre silence lingers in the shadowy shelter around him. For the first time, something grabs his attention: the weight on his face.
Slowly, he brings his hand to his cheek and feels a rigid, cold structure fused to his skin. He hadn't noticed it until that moment... a mask.
With effort, he removes it.
In his hand, the sight freezes him.
A mask, completely white, molded in the shape of a Japanese demon, with an expression of eternal, furious screaming, and two long horns jutting upward from its forehead. The image seems to pulse in his fingers, as if it were alive.
In a fit of fear and revulsion, Kaelen throws it as far as he can.
— What... what is happening?!
Before the question finds an answer, the mask rises from the ground by itself and flies like an arrow toward him. In a second, it sticks to his left arm as if it had a will of its own. The shock makes him stumble. He tries to tear it off, but it holds firm—attached like a symbol… or a curse.
It was as if something invisible connected them. Magnetism… or fate.
He takes a deep breath.
Tries to remember… who is he? Where is he? How did he get here?
Fragments surface like flashes: the night of his death. The alley. The woman being threatened. The criminal. The pain piercing his abdomen. The white figure. The whisper...
"When you wake up... I hope you like that mask."
Kaelen's heart tightens.
He stands up slowly, ignoring the pain in his wounds. His muscles respond with abnormal strength. He looks again at the fallen woman.
He grabs one of the dirty cloths from the ground and covers her body. His eyes carry a weight—not only guilt—but not knowing who the real monster is here.
— I'm sorry… — he whispers, his voice low and broken. — I… I didn't mean to...
He wraps his own body with more cloths, shielding himself from the cold—and the shame.
He takes the first steps toward the exit of the underground shelter, but as soon as his foot crosses the line of shadow, the sunlight burns him violently.
He screams in pain, staggering backward. The sun here felt like it boiled at a thousand degrees—it was not natural. The sky was clear, but aggressive.
He decides to wait for nightfall. During that time, he paces back and forth, restless. His thoughts consume him.
Hell? Purgatory?
Nothing makes sense.
Without knowing why, he approaches the shelter wall and lightly punches it. Pain pulses through his fingers. Nothing happens. But then… the image of the criminal who killed him flashes in his mind. His eyes fill with rage.
He clenches his fist. Punches hard.
This time, his hand goes straight through the white marble wall, as if it were made of clay. He pulls it back, jaw dropped. No pain. No scratch.
The silence is replaced by an echo: the impact reverberating through the shelter.
When he looks up through the opening, he sees that night has fallen.
He steps out.
And the world… reveals itself.
The colossal Hexagonal Tower rises in the distance, like a beacon of a new destiny. Behind it, the sun dies on the horizon, bathing the ocean in liquid gold. The reflected light creates a trail across the water. A gentle wind blows. Stars begin to appear, one by one.
Kaelen can hardly believe what he's seeing.
For a few seconds, he forgets the pain. But reality pulls him back. He needs to move. Injured, he begins to walk across the Worn Plains, where the dry, cracked soil barely supports life.
He realizes: he was taken far from the tower. Very far.
Darkness creeps in.
And then…
Footsteps.
Laughter.
Kaelen stops.
Looks around. Still shadows. Rocks?
But something moves. Closer.
A strange sound—animalistic laughter. Like that of a hyena.
His eyes adjust to the dark. Rocks… that move. Twist. Distort.
Four creatures emerge. Tall. Thin. Skeletal. Bulging eyes. Blade-like teeth. Long, serrated tongues. Claws larger than human hands.
Two meters. Three.
They surround him.
Kaelen feels his heart pounding. The adrenaline begins to rise...
But then a sharp pain explodes within him, as if something is being ripped out of his chest. He drops to his knees, powerless.
No strength. No defense.
The creatures draw near.
Kaelen looks forward.
And sees his end.