The weight of betrayal felt a lot like drowning.
Not the fast, frantic kind where you splash and fight for air. It was the slow, cold kind. The kind where you're so tired, so broken, that you just let the water fill your lungs because it's easier than trying to swim.
Vell stood there in the mud, his one good suit ruined, listening to the hollow thud of dirt hitting his best friend's coffin. Rynn was gone. Six feet under, and never coming back. And the person who'd put him there, according to the entire damn city, was Vell himself.
What a fucking joke.
His hands trembled, not from the cold, but from the memory of the police cuffs. They'd dragged him right out of the funeral. The last thing he saw wasn't Rynn's final resting place, but the faces of his own family turning away, their eyes filled with a disgust that burned worse than any fire.
The last thing he heard wasn't the quiet sobbing of mourners, but the sharp, clicking sound of his mother's heels as she walked away from him.
And then there was Kana.
His cousin. His other half. The girl he'd grown up with, leaned on, trusted more than anyone. She was the one who had pointed at him in court, her face a perfect mask of grief, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice, the same one that used to whisper secrets to him under the stars, had broken as she delivered the final blow.
"I saw him," she choked out, her words echoing in the silent courtroom. "He was there. He… he killed Rynn."
Those words hadn't just crushed him. They'd erased him.
'Why, Kana? Out of everyone, why you?'
The lie had been a wildfire, and he was the kindling. The city headlines painted him as a monster in sheep's clothing. His name, once spoken with friendship and respect, was now spat like venom. They didn't even bother with a real prison sentence. That would have been too clean, too official. Instead, they just threw him out of the city gates like trash, a public shaming that was far more effective. 'Never come back,' the guards had said, their faces a mix of pity and contempt.
And he hadn't.
---
Now, his world was the stench of rotting garbage and the constant, gnawing ache in his stomach. He was a ghost haunting the back alleys of the city's underbelly, his clothes little more than rags, his face hidden behind a curtain of greasy, unkempt hair.
He crouched beside a dumpster behind a high-end restaurant, the smell so thick it almost made his eyes water. But hunger was a stronger force than disgust. He dug through bags of discarded food, his fingers numb from the cold, until he found his prize: half a sandwich. The bread was hard as a rock and smelled faintly of fish, but it was food. It was another day of not starving to death.
He sat on the cold ground, leaning against the grimy brick wall, and took a bite. It tasted like despair.
'Look at me. Rynn, if you could see me now, you'd probably kick my ass for giving up like this.'
A soft clinking sound brought him back to reality. A few credits had landed in the rusty cup he kept beside him. He looked up, his voice a dry rasp.
"Thank you."
The man who'd tossed the coins didn't even look at him. He was staring at his phone, his face lit by the screen's glow. "Look at that. Another one of those players just cleared a rank-four dungeon. What I wouldn't give to be in his position."
The man walked away, leaving Vell alone with the clinking coins and the mention of a world he no longer belonged to.
Players.
That's all anyone talked about these days. People who'd awakened special abilities, people who fought monsters in the dungeons and towers that had appeared all over the world. They were heroes, celebrities, humanity's last hope. They had fame, money, and power. They had everything he'd lost.
'What I wouldn't give…'
He didn't know if he pitied them or envied them. Sure, they were living the dream, but they were also the ones on the front lines, dying in places the rest of the world never even saw.
A sharp kick sent his cup flying. The few credits he'd collected scattered across the wet pavement, rolling into the gutter.
"Oops," a voice sneered. "Didn't see you there, murderer."
He looked up to see three familiar faces—bullies from his old neighborhood. They were bigger now, their faces harder, but their cruelty was exactly the same. They laughed, the sound echoing in the narrow alley.
"Fucking loser," one of them muttered, nudging his friend. "I heard he killed his best friend for some artifact or whatever."
The words were a dull ache in his chest. He didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore. He just stayed on his knees, watching the last of his coins disappear into the darkness of a storm drain. He didn't bother chasing them. What was the point?
He was about to just lie down and let the cold take him when the world exploded in noise.
A deafening crash echoed from the next street over, so loud it shook the ground beneath him. It was followed by the sound of twisting metal and panicked screams.
[**Warning: E-rank monster has escaped its master's control. Evacuate until a player arrives at the location.**]
The alert blared from the massive screens on the city towers, their red light washing over the panicked crowds. People pushed and shoved, their faces masks of terror as they tried to flee.
For some reason, Vell stood up.
'Monsters…' he whispered, the word tasting strange on his tongue.
He didn't run away from the chaos. He walked toward it. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. Maybe he just wanted to see the thing that would finally end his miserable existence. He moved against the tide of fleeing people, slipping through the narrow alleys until he reached a small clearing.
And there it was.
The place was a warzone. A delivery truck was overturned, its contents spilled across the street. A storefront was completely caved in. And in the middle of it all, feasting on the remains of some unlucky civilian, stood a grotesque beast—a hulking, red-furred panda. But this was no cute, cuddly animal. It was easily eight feet tall, with claws like scythes and rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. Blood stained its fur a darker shade of crimson as it ripped into its meal.
He froze, his mind screaming at him to run, to hide, to do anything but stand there. But his legs felt like they were made of lead.
'Why did I come here? Ah…'
The answer was simple. He was done. He had no weapons, no powers, and honestly, no will to fight. If this was how he died, so be it. It was better than starving in an alley.
The monster's head snapped up, its chewing momentarily forgotten. It locked eyes with him, a low, guttural growl vibrating through the street. It had found its next meal.
It charged.
Its massive frame closed the distance in seconds, the ground shaking with each heavy footfall. He didn't flinch. He didn't even breathe. He just stood there, waiting for the end, a strange sense of peace washing over him.
But just before the creature's claws could rip him to shreds, a blur of silver and light shot past him, slamming into the beast with incredible force.
BOOM!
The monster skidded backward, crashing into a wall with a sickening crunch. He blinked, struggling to process what had just happened.
A figure stepped forward, wielding a long, glowing spear. Her sleek, high-tech armor was a stark contrast to his own tattered rags. She was radiant, powerful, a real-life hero from the news feeds.
And he knew her.
"Kana…" he whispered, the name a ghost on his lips.
She glanced back at him, and for a split second, her warrior's composure shattered. Her eyes widened, a flicker of shock and guilt crossing her face.
"Vell? What are you doing here?" Her voice wavered, but her hands tightened on her spear. "You shouldn't be… dammit."
He took a step back, suddenly aware of how he must look—filthy, gaunt, a pathetic shadow of the person he used to be. He saw the hesitation in her eyes, the way she bit her lip and looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
"Why are you here?" His voice was hollow, empty of the rage he should have felt. He was just… tired.
She opened her mouth to respond, but the red panda monster stirred, letting out a roar of defiance as it struggled to its feet. Kana's focus snapped back to the beast, her eyes narrowing.
"Stay here," she commanded, her voice firm again, the brief moment of vulnerability gone.
And then she was a blur of motion, a dance of death. Her movements were swift, precise, each thrust of her spear aimed at a vital point. She was no longer the girl he remembered, the cousin who used to sneak him sweets from the kitchen. She was a player, a warrior, a killer.
He watched her fight, a strange numbness settling over him. He saw the skill, the power, but he also saw the guilt in her eyes every time she glanced his way. It was a look he knew well. He'd been seeing it in his own reflection for months.
When the battle was over, the monster lay dead, its body slowly dissipating into motes of light. Kana stood over it, breathing heavily, her spear dripping with what looked like liquid energy. She turned, her eyes searching the clearing for him.
"Vell?"
But he was already gone, having slipped back into the shadows of the alleyways. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want her excuses. He just wanted to be left alone to fade away.
As he wandered aimlessly, a strange glint of gold caught his eye. Tucked away in a pile of rubble, half-hidden beneath a broken pipe, was a small, golden tube. It was covered in glowing symbols that seemed to pulse with a faint energy, a soft light that seemed to call to him.
'What is this?'
He reached for it, his curiosity overriding the voice in his head that was screaming at him to leave it alone. The moment his fingers brushed against the cool metal, a surge of power erupted from the tube, throwing him back against the alley wall.
"Gah—!"
The glowing symbols lifted off the tube, swirling through the air like fireflies before latching onto his skin. They burned, searing their patterns into his arms, his chest, his back. A pain so intense it felt like his very soul was being rewritten wracked his body. He collapsed, writhing in agony on the grimy pavement as a strange darkness oozed from his pores, thick and black like tar.
This was it. This was the end.
But then, just as quickly as it started, the pain subsided.
[1st stage complete. Satisfactory results. Activating beast forge...]
A voice echoed in his mind, clear and calm. He pushed himself to his feet, his body trembling but… different. He looked down at his hands. The dirt, the grime, the scars—they were gone. His skin felt clean, purified. He clenched his fists, feeling a strength he hadn't known in months, a power that coursed through him like a roaring river.
"What the hell?" he whispered, his voice no longer a dry rasp.
And for the first time since the funeral, as he looked at his own reflection in a puddle on the ground, his eyes didn't look empty anymore. They held a glimmer of something he thought he'd lost forever.
Hope.