Seyfe let the silence hang between them, the weight of Aki's warning pressing against his chest like a hand just shy of choking.
His instincts screamed not to trust her—never trust the system. But even he wasn't dense enough to ignore the trap he was already stepping into.
Reluctantly, he gave a tight nod, jaw clenched. "Fine. If they ask... I'll tell them what I saw. Nothing more."
Aki gave no approval, only a single blink—like that was enough.
But before either of them could speak again, the air around them began to fracture.
A long, low crack echoed like the distant groan of shifting tectonic plates. The pale lighting of the pocket realm began to fracture above their heads, reality splintering like glass under pressure. Thin threads of gold and static peeled through the edges of the world.
Seyfe stepped back instinctively. "Oh, not this again—"
And then everything collapsed.
In a flash, color and sound twisted around them—and suddenly, they were back in the real world. Or rather... the ruins of it.
The Shift had ended.
The Dead City greeted them with its usual charm: cracked pavement, collapsing rooftops, and the constant scent of ozone and rust in the air. Aki stood firm, now masked once more, the sleek, emotionless design of the Veiler helm hiding every trace of what they had just shared. In her arms, the baby blinked drowsily, wrapped and calm as if nothing had changed.
Seyfe?
He landed flat on his ass with a graceless thud against a pile of gravel and dirt.
"Son of a—!" He winced, rubbing his back. "Why is it always me?"
Aki tilted her head, silent behind the mask.
If she was amused, the mask didn't show it—but the brief tilt felt suspiciously like a smirk.
Seyfe grumbled, pushing himself up, dusting off his coat. "Real graceful exit. Remind me next time to land after the Veiler."
Aki didn't reply, only stepped forward with the child in her arms, back to business.
As Seyfe finished brushing off the last of the grit from his coat, something in the air caught his attention. A scent. A texture. A memory.
His eyes scanned the ruined streets, the jagged silhouettes of broken buildings curling toward a copper-tinted sky.
"This place…" he muttered under his breath. "It's the same spot. Where I found the kid."
The exact building with the collapsed third floor. The blood-smeared wall. Even the broken comm-tower in the distance, leaning at an angle like it was bowing to the storm.
He took a cautious step forward, instinct buzzing beneath his skin.
Then—
CRACK!
A sharp whistle tore through the air—and instinct saved him.
Seyfe dropped low, narrowly missing a bullet that snapped past his head and struck the concrete behind him with a sharp ping, sending bits of dust and rock exploding near his shoulder.
"Shit!" he barked, rolling to the side, heart hammering.
It wasn't just a shot. It was a warning.
Or a kill attempt that missed by inches.
Wind tugged at his coat as he scrambled behind a jagged concrete slab, adrenaline now in full command. The air shifted again—cool and unnatural—like something had passed by just before the shot was fired.
Aki had already moved. In one smooth motion, she tucked the child close to her chest with one arm, the other already lifting toward the source of the attack. Her mask whirred softly, scanning.
"I count one shooter," she said calmly, eyes locked ahead. "High vantage. Precision weapon. Silencer. They knew we'd return."
Seyfe gritted his teeth, peeking from cover. "Sniper?"
"Possibly. Or worse." Her tone dipped. "Something hunting for what you took."
Seyfe's eyes darted back to the baby in her arms—now squirming, vaguely agitated. Not crying. Just aware. Too aware.
"Of course," he muttered, half to himself. "Wasn't just a coincidence I found it here."
Another shot rang out—this time farther off, ricocheting against a distant wall. Aki ducked low, shifting to cover the child.
Seyfe cursed under his breath. "We need to move."
"Agreed."
Without another word, the two slipped into motion—one carrying a child, the other carrying a memory he didn't yet understand, both pursued by the city's whispering ghosts and a bullet meant to silence them.
The shot came again, a clean crack that split the air just inches from Seyfe's ear. He flinched, his heart slamming against his ribs as they dashed across the jagged rubble, the dead city's remnants shifting beneath their feet like a forgotten corpse.
Aki moved with eerie precision, weaving through the crumbled remnants of buildings, leaping over debris as if the very landscape bent to her will. Her focus was singular—protect the child.
Seyfe, however, found himself struggling to maintain pace. The ragged breaths in his chest echoed in his ears, legs burning as he pushed himself faster, but the gap between them only seemed to grow. Aki didn't look back, didn't even show the slightest sign of slowing down.
"Dammit!" he growled under his breath, pushing himself harder, feeling the sweat sting his eyes.
Another bullet zipped past him, close enough to ruffle his hair. The sound of the rifle was always just behind them—always just enough to remind him that whatever was hunting them wasn't stopping. He could feel the heat building in his lungs, the stitch in his side clawing at him like a beast.
Aki was a shadow ahead of him now, just a blur against the crumbling skyline. He could barely make out the glint of her mask, the way it turned sharply with every movement, calculating every step like a machine.
I'm not going to make it.
Seyfe's legs felt like they were made of lead, the ground uneven beneath him, his pace slowing without his consent. The city's dust clouded the air, every breath heavy and grating, every step feeling more like a mistake than a victory.
His muscles screamed, his vision started to blur.
He barely managed to keep going, his steps faltering more as the seconds passed, the endless rhythm of pursuit pulling him down.
Aki—still moving with effortless grace—was out of his reach now. Her silhouette was just a few hundred feet ahead, easily darting through the ruins like she belonged there. And then she vanished behind a collapsed wall, leaving him alone in the open.
"Goddamn it!" He could feel his chest tighten with frustration, his body pushing past its limits. "Slow down!"
Another shot rang out, but this time it grazed the side of his arm, just enough to send a searing pain shooting through him. The sudden jolt sent him stumbling, nearly falling to his knees, but he caught himself just in time. Blood stained the sleeve of his coat.
He clenched his teeth, a low growl escaping his throat.
Aki's voice came through his earpiece, calm and composed, as if she hadn't just been darting through the city at full speed. "Seyfe. If you stop now, it's over."
He grunted, trying to steady himself. "Not… planning to stop."
Another shot rang out. Closer this time. Too close.
His breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to fall behind. He couldn't. Whatever was chasing them wasn't going to let up, and he wasn't about to give it the satisfaction of watching him fail. He'd lived too long for this moment to end now.
With a burst of whatever remained of his strength, he pushed forward, forcing his legs to carry him.
"Just... a little more..." he muttered to himself, refusing to look back.
Seyfe's legs felt like they were going to buckle beneath him, but he pushed himself forward—pushing through the shattered remains of buildings, dodging debris and wreckage with the last of his strength. His breath burned in his lungs, every inhale coming in jagged, painful bursts.
He was so close now—he could see the edge of the Dead City up ahead, the outskirts where the residential zones began, the boundary line that separated the ruinous chaos from what little semblance of normalcy still clung to the land. But crossing it meant exposure.
Seyfe's heart sank as he caught sight of Aki ahead, effortlessly closing the distance to the border.
Dammit, he thought, gritting his teeth. Once we cross that line, we're not just escaping the Dead City. We're going straight into another hell.
It wasn't like he had a choice. They couldn't stay in the Dead City forever—too many risks. But stepping beyond its broken borders meant stepping into government-controlled zones, places that would be just as dangerous in their own way.
A flicker of doubt clawed at him, but he kept moving.
And then it happened—like a thunderclap in the distance.
A flash of bright light cut through the gathering dusk above them, sharp and blinding. Seyfe squinted up, his stomach twisting as he saw the unmistakable silhouette cutting through the darkening sky—a helicopter, its blades whirring through the air, casting an ominous shadow over the ruined city.
The government sigil painted clearly on its underside.
Slick move, Aki.