Eli ran harder than he needed to, his pace increasing without a clear decision to push it, his stride lengthening as the rhythm settled into something faster than it had been a few minutes ago. His breathing stayed controlled, but there was a weight behind it that had nothing to do with exertion, something that lingered in his chest even as his body moved cleanly through the motion.
The music in his ears was loud, but it never fully covered what he was trying to push out.
It helped at first. It always did. The noise filled in the empty space just enough to keep other things from settling in immediately, but it never held them out for long. The voices stayed, not the exact words, but the tone of them, the pressure behind them, the way they carried expectation whether he wanted them to or not.
They replayed differently each time.
That was the problem.
There was never a clean version of anything. Just fragments that shifted enough to make it harder to ignore.
That was why he ran.
Central Park was one of the few places in the city where things didn't press in from every direction at once. The noise spread out here, the space between sounds just wide enough that he could focus on something else, even if only for a few minutes. The air felt less confined, less recycled, even with everything else still present.
He slowed gradually, not stopping all at once, letting his pace drop until his stride shortened and his breathing evened out. The path curved slightly ahead of him, the trees breaking up the skyline just enough that the city beyond looked distant, the glass and steel catching the last of the light in a way that softened the edges.
From here, it looked manageable.
Up close, it never was.
He came to a stop near the edge of the path and leaned forward slightly, resting his hands against his thighs as he let his breathing settle. The tension in his shoulders remained even as everything else slowed, a steady pressure that didn't leave when he stopped moving.
He stayed there longer than he meant to.
Not thinking.
Just not moving.
It didn't last.
It never did.
The things waiting for him slipped back in without effort, not all at once, but in pieces that didn't need to be connected to have weight. The assignment he had put off longer than he should have. The shift he had picked up because someone else hadn't shown up again. The message from his brother that had come through earlier, short and casual, asking if he could "help out a bit," like the last few times hadn't already added up to something he couldn't ignore.
He hadn't answered it.
Not yet.
He already knew how that conversation would go.
His brother would say it wasn't a big deal. That it was just temporary. That things would even out. That he'd pay him back. The same way he had said it before, and the time before that, each time just convincing enough that it wasn't worth arguing about in the moment.
It never evened out.
Eli straightened slowly, exhaling through his nose as he reached up to adjust his earbuds, even though they hadn't shifted. The movement gave him something to do, something small that didn't require thinking.
Standing still didn't help.
It never did.
He stepped forward again, easing back into motion without forcing the pace this time, letting his body settle into something steady rather than fast. The light had shifted while he had stopped, the sun lower now, the sky catching in uneven streaks that looked better from a distance than they felt standing under them.
It didn't matter.
Looking at it didn't change anything.
He focused on the path ahead and kept moving.
A bark cut through the air without warning, sharp and close enough that it broke his focus immediately. His head turned toward the sound without thinking, his attention snapping sideways just as his foot came down slightly off where it should have.
The edge of the pavement caught him wrong.
The next step didn't land.
His weight shifted too far forward, the motion carrying through before he could correct it, his balance gone before he could adjust. His hands came up, but not fast enough, his body already moving down as the ground rushed up to meet him.
He hit hard.
The side of his face struck first, followed by his shoulder, the impact driving through him in a way that forced the air out of his lungs before he could react. The rough surface scraped against his skin as he slid slightly on contact, the friction tearing just enough to leave heat and pressure behind.
He didn't move right away.
His breath didn't come back cleanly, catching somewhere in his chest as he tried to pull it in again, his body lagging behind the effort. The world tilted slightly, the edges of his vision losing focus as the sensation settled in.
Warmth spread along his cheek.
He didn't need to check to know what it was.
Of course.
He let out a slow, uneven breath through his nose, his eyes half-closing as he stayed where he was, not from choice, but because moving didn't feel necessary yet.
A few feet away, a woman struggled with her bulldog, the leash pulled tight as the animal leaned forward, barking in short, aggressive bursts that didn't match anything around it. Its attention stayed fixed in his direction, its posture rigid in a way that didn't ease even as she pulled back against it.
"Susie, stop," she said, her voice strained as she tried to control it. "What is wrong with you?"
The dog didn't stop.
It held its ground, muscles tight, as if reacting to something he couldn't see.
The woman hesitated, then stepped forward cautiously, keeping the leash tight as she approached him. She crouched down beside him and reached out, turning him slightly onto his back, her expression tightening the moment she saw his face.
"Hey," she said, quieter now. "Can you hear me?"
He could.
He just didn't respond.
Not immediately.
Everything felt slightly delayed, like his body hadn't caught up yet.
The ground shifted.
It was subtle at first, a low tremor that passed through the pavement and into the air, just enough to be noticeable. The dog stopped barking mid-sound, its body going still as the tension in the leash changed.
The silence that followed didn't feel normal.
The woman looked up.
The sky had changed.
The clouds were pulling inward, not quickly, not violently, but in a way that didn't match any natural movement, forming a loose circular shape that hadn't been there before. Light pushed through the center of it, brighter than it should have been, but not spreading like sunlight.
It stayed contained.
Focused.
Something stood at the center of it.
Too far away to see clearly.
Too large to ignore.
The woman didn't move.
Eli's vision blurred again, the edges pulling inward slightly as the light intensified, not in a way that hurt to look at, but in a way that didn't settle into anything familiar.
Then it stopped.
Not the light.
Everything.
Across the city, movement broke.
A man crossing the street disappeared between one step and the next, the space he had occupied empty before the motion finished. A woman reaching into her bag froze halfway through the action as the person beside her vanished without warning. A group walking together became smaller without shifting position, gaps forming where people had been seconds before.
There was no sound that marked it.
No flash.
No transition.
Just absence.
Phones dropped.
Voices cut off mid-sentence.
Someone turned, looking for something that wasn't there anymore.
The confusion came before anything else.
Then the noise followed.
Eli opened his eyes.
The ground was gone.
The sky was gone.
Everything was white.
It stretched in every direction without boundary, without depth, without anything to anchor himself to. There were no shadows, no edges, nothing to measure distance against, just empty space that held steady no matter where he looked.
He blinked once.
Then again.
His face felt tight.
He reached up slowly and touched it, his fingers moving across smooth skin where the cut had been. There was no break, no raised edge, nothing left behind from the impact.
"…okay."
He pushed himself up into a seated position, his movements steady, controlled, his eyes scanning the space around him without finding anything new. It didn't shift when he moved. It didn't react. It stayed the same.
It didn't feel like a dream.
There was no distortion.
Everything held.
A sound broke the silence.
Ding.
A translucent screen appeared in front of him, faint but clear enough to read.
[Welcome.]
He looked at it for a moment, then exhaled quietly.
"…right."
The screen shifted.
[The Tutorial will begin shortly.]
[Failure may result in death.]
[Please say "Status"]
He stood.
There was no point waiting.
"Status."
The interface expanded immediately.
Name: —Level: 0 | 0/5 EXPRace: Human
Physique: UnknownBloodline: Black — Stage 9
Mana: 0
Vitality: 7Strength: 5Agility: 7Stamina: 7Willpower: 9Perception: 6
He read through it once.
Then again.
The structure made sense.
The details did not.
He let out a slow breath.
It didn't matter yet.
[Please assign a name.]
He paused for a moment, then shrugged slightly.
"…Eli Merlin."
[Name accepted.]
He rolled his shoulders once, letting his arms settle at his sides.
Nothing changed.
No explanation followed.
The screen shifted again.
[Initialization.]
The white space dissolved.