Silas sat on the hard plastic chair in the Civilian Lounge. The fluorescent light above him flickered with a rhythmic buzz that started to give him a headache. Across the hall, the doors to the high-end magic shop remained shut. Through the frosted glass, he could see the distorted shapes of people moving around. He could see Elara. She was holding a staff now, probably testing its weight or how it felt in her hand.
He looked down at his phone. There were no new notifications. No one was calling him to offer him a spot in a secret academy. No one was telling him the crystal ball had been a mistake. He was just a guy sitting in a mall waiting for his friend to finish being special.
'I can't just sit here,' he thought. The air in the lounge felt stale. It smelled like floor cleaner and old coffee. He felt like a pet waiting for its owner to finish at the grocery store. It was a humiliating thought, even if Elara didn't mean it that way.
He stood up and shoved his phone into his pocket. He walked over to the shop window and gave a small wave, but Elara was too busy listening to the shopkeeper. He decided to send her a quick text instead.
"Going for a walk to clear my head. Text me when you're done. I'll be nearby."
He didn't wait for a reply. Silas turned and walked back toward the escalators. He didn't want to be in the Aether Level anymore. He didn't want to see the glowing robes or the proud faces of the newly awakened. He wanted to find somewhere quiet where the air didn't hum with mana.
He exited the mall through the back service doors. Most people used the front entrance with the grand fountains and the crystal gates. The back of the plaza was different. It was mostly concrete and loading docks. Giant trucks were lined up to deliver goods to the lower-level stores. It was loud and dusty, but it felt real. It felt like a place where a regular person belonged.
Silas walked past the docks and followed a chain-link fence toward the edge of the district. This area was under renovation. A few years ago, a small Gate had opened nearby, and although it was cleared quickly, the buildings had never been fully repaired. Now, it was a restricted zone. Signs were plastered everywhere warning civilians to stay out due to structural instability.
He ignored the signs. There was a gap in the fence near a pile of rusted rebar. He squeezed through, feeling the metal snag slightly on his hoodie.
On the other side, the city felt a mile away. The ground was covered in cracked asphalt and patches of stubborn weeds. The skeleton of an unfinished apartment building loomed over him. It was a hollow shell of concrete and steel.
Silas sat down on a concrete block. He took a deep breath. The air here was cool and smelled like damp earth. It was peaceful. He picked up a small stone and tossed it at a nearby puddle.
'Maybe university won't be so bad,' he told himself. 'I could study history. I could learn how the world worked before the Gates. There's some value in that, isn't there?'
He tried to convince himself, but the words felt hollow. In a world where people could fly and heal wounds with a touch, being a historian felt like being a professional spectator.
Suddenly, the air grew incredibly cold. Silas shivered and pulled his hoodie tighter around his chest. The silence of the construction site changed. The birds that had been chirping in the weeds went dead quiet. Even the distant sound of the city traffic seemed to fade away.
A low, vibrating sound started to hum in his ears. It wasn't the pleasant hum of a mana shop. This was jagged and sharp. It felt like someone was rubbing two pieces of sandpaper together inside his skull.
Silas stood up, looking around. "Hello? Is someone there?"
The air ten feet in front of him began to warp. It looked like heat rising off a road, but it was dark. A purple crack appeared in the middle of the empty space. It looked like a tear in a piece of fabric. It grew larger, stretching from the ground up to the height of a man.
'A Gate?' Silas felt his heart drop into his stomach. 'Here? Right now?'
He knew he should run. Every safety drill he had ever been in since he was five years old told him to run. You find a Gate, you get as far away as possible and call the authorities. But his legs wouldn't move. They felt like they were made of lead.
The purple crack pulsed. A wave of pressure hit Silas, knocking him backward. He scrambled on the ground, his palms scraping against the rough gravel.
The tear wasn't stable. It wasn't a clean portal like the ones the heroes entered. It was jagged and raw. This was a Gate Leak. It was a sign that the reality in this area was thinning.
"I need to get out of here," he whispered.
He tried to stand up, but the purple light expanded suddenly. It didn't just grow. It exploded outward like a vacuum. Silas felt a terrifying tugging sensation on his skin. It felt like the air was being sucked out of the world.
He grabbed onto a piece of rusted rebar sticking out of the ground. He held on with everything he had, his knuckles turning white.
"Help!" he screamed, but his voice was swallowed by the roaring sound of the rift.
The rebar groaned. The concrete block it was attached to begin to shift. With a terrifying snap, the metal gave way. Silas was pulled off his feet. He felt himself flying through the air, heading straight for the purple darkness.
He didn't have time to think. He didn't have time to pray. He hit the surface of the rift, and for a second, it felt like his entire body was being turned inside out.
Then, everything went black.
When Silas opened his eyes, he wasn't at the construction site anymore. He was lying on a floor made of smooth, obsidian-like stone. The air was thick and tasted like copper. It was dim, illuminated only by a sickly green glow coming from the walls.
He sat up slowly, his head spinning. His hands were bleeding from the gravel earlier. He looked around and saw that he was in a wide hallway. The walls were covered in strange, pulsing veins of light.
'I'm inside,' he realized. 'I'm actually inside a Gate.'
The terror hit him then. It was a cold, paralyzing fear that made it hard to breathe. He was a Normal. He had no armor. He had no weapon. He had zero mana. In this place, he was nothing more than a snack for whatever lived here.
"Elara?" he called out, his voice trembling. "Anyone?"
His voice echoed down the long, dark corridor. There was no answer.
He stood up, his knees shaking so hard he almost fell over. He needed to find the exit. He looked back to where he thought he had come in, but there was only a solid wall of pulsing stone. The entrance had closed.
He was trapped.
A scraping sound came from the shadows further down the hall. It sounded like claws on stone. Silas froze. He held his breath, hoping that whatever it was hadn't heard him.
A pair of glowing yellow eyes opened in the darkness. They were low to the ground. Then, another pair opened. And another.
Silas backed away, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt like it was going to burst. He looked for anything he could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. Just smooth stone and the smell of death.
'I'm going to die here,' he thought. The realization was quiet and final. 'I'm going to die in the dark, and no one will even know where I went.'
The creatures began to move toward him, their low growls filling the hallway. Silas turned and ran. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to move.
He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they were on fire. He turned a corner and skidded to a halt. The hallway ended in a massive chamber. In the center of the room, a large creature sat on a pile of bones. It looked like a wolf, but it was the size of a car, with skin that looked like charred wood.
It looked up and sniffed the air. Its yellow eyes locked onto Silas.
Silas fell to his knees. He was exhausted, terrified, and completely alone. He looked at the monster and realized there was nowhere left to run.
"Please," he whispered, though he knew the monster didn't care. "Not like this."