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THE BEGINNING

Autor: STARWRITES
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-08-26 20:39:56

CHAPTER FIVE

They backed away, their pipes dragging on the floor. I stepped over Brad's shaking body and walked into the warehouse.

Marcus was standing by the conveyor belt, watching the scene with a look of profound discomfort. He didn't yell. He didn't threaten me. He just looked at me as if I were a stranger.

"Miller," he said, his voice devoid of its usual thunder.

I didn't look at him. I started sorting the crates.

"I'm working, Marcus. If you don't need anything, leave me alone", I replied and continued working without looking up.

The days passed in a blur of anticipation. Every second felt like a heartbeat counting down to an explosion. I spent my breaks studying the map of Oakhaven, marking the exact coordinates of the first three rifts.

The second rift would open in the financial district, inside a luxury bank vault. The monster was a Gold-Hoarder Golem. It was slow, but it dropped a ring that granted infinite stamina.

The third was in the sewers, a swarm of Plague-Rats that dropped an immunity potion.

I needed all of them. I needed to be the strongest person in the city before the first hour was over.

That evening, I headed to The Neon Coil. The club was a sensory overload. Neon pink and blue lights sliced through a thick haze of synthetic smoke. The music was a pounding, industrial beat that vibrated in the marrow of my bones. People danced in a frenzied, desperate rhythm, trying to forget the grey misery of their lives, without knowing what was coming.

I saw him sitting in a VIP booth, surrounded by three beautiful women and a bottle of champagne that cost more than my apartment.

Julius Everton.

He looked the same. The same golden hair, the same piercing blue eyes, the same effortless charisma that made people want to follow him into a fire. He looked like a god among mortals.

I walked up to the booth. The women looked at me with curiosity, their eyes scanning my cheap clothes and tired face.

Julius looked up and smiled. It was a warm, inviting smile, the kind of smile that had fooled me for years.

"Aeron!" he exclaimed, standing up to embrace me. "My god, look at you! You look like you've seen a ghost."

I let him hug me, but I remained stiff. I could feel the warmth of his body, the scent of expensive cologne. I imagined the feeling of my own blood soaking into my shirt while he watched.

"It's been a while, Julius," I said.

"It has! Too long!" he said, sliding back into the booth and gesturing for me to sit. "Sit, sit! Tell me everything. How is the job? How is life in the slums?"

I sat down, my eyes scanning the room. The exit was twenty feet to my left. The security guards were stationed at the door.

"Life is the same", I said. "Boring. Predictable."

Julius laughed, a rich, melodic sound.

"That's the tragedy of our lives, isn't it? Predictability. I've spent the last year traveling the Eastern Rim. I've seen things you wouldn't believe, Aeron. Cities built of glass, oceans of liquid silver. I felt like I was waking up from a dream."

I looked at him. He was lying. He hadn't been traveling; he had been networking, building the connections he would use to seize power once the System arrived. He already knew. Or perhaps he didn't know yet, but he had the instinct for power.

"You seem different," Julius said, his smile faltering slightly. "Your eyes. They're different."

I leaned forward, the neon lights casting deep shadows across my face.

"I've just realized that some things are more important than a steady paycheck", I said.

Julius tilted his head, his gaze intensifying. For a moment, the mask of the friendly old friend slipped, and I saw the predator underneath. The man who would eventually stab me in the back for a gemstone.

"I like that," he whispered. "I like that a lot. You've grown a spine, Aeron. I always knew you had one in there somewhere."

We talked for an hour. He told me stories of his travels, and I listened, feeding him bits of information that seemed harmless but were designed to gauge his current state of mind. He was still arrogant. He still thought he was the smartest person in any room.

As I stood up to leave, Julius reached out and grabbed my wrist. His grip was firm, his eyes searching mine.

"You know, Aeron, I'm planning something big. A venture. Something that could change everything for both of us. When the time is right, I'll bring you in."

I looked at his hand on my wrist, then back at his face.

"I look forward to it," I said, completely unimpressed. I walked out of the club and into the cool night air. I felt a wave of hatred so strong it nearly knocked me over. But I channeled it. I pushed it down, turning it into a cold, hard diamond of resolve.

Six days.

I spent the next few days in a state of frantic preparation. I sold everything I owned—my old computer, my meager collection of books, even the bed I slept on. I used the money to buy bulk shipments of canned food, gallons of distilled water, and heavy-duty medical kits. I stored them in a rented locker near the Cathedral District.

I also spent hours in the city's public library, researching the structural weaknesses of the Saint Jude ruins. I needed to know exactly where the Shadow-Stalker would emerge, and I needed to know the fastest way out once I had the Seed of Agility.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the date.

October 17th.

On the final day, I didn't go to work. I didn't call Marcus. I didn't answer the phone.

I spent the morning sharpening my knife. I sat in my empty apartment, the silence heavy around me. I could feel the atmosphere of the city shifting. The air felt thick, charged with an invisible electricity. The birds had stopped singing. The wind had died down to a stagnant hush.

I checked my watch.

11:00 AM.

I left my apartment and began the walk toward the Cathedral District. As I moved through the streets, I saw the first signs of the glitch. A streetlamp flickered and then dissolved into a shower of digital pixels. A pedestrian stopped in his tracks, staring up at the sky with a look of sheer terror.

I looked up.

The sky was turning a bruised shade of purple. Thin, jagged cracks were beginning to spiderweb across the blue, like a mirror being shattered by an invisible hammer.

People began to scream. They pointed upward, their voices rising in a crescendo of panic.

"What's happening?" someone yelled. Look at the sky!

I didn't look. I kept walking, my pace steady, my heart drumming a war-march in my chest.

11:45 AM.

I reached the ruins of Saint Jude. The cathedral was a skeletal remnant of Gothic architecture, its blackened spires reaching up like pleading fingers. The area was deserted, the locals avoiding the ruins due to old superstitions about ghosts.

I walked into the basement, the air smelling of damp earth and ancient stone. I found the exact spot—a circular depression in the floor where the veil between worlds was thinnest.

I knelt down, the matte-black knife gripped firmly in my hand. I felt the Temporal Echo pulsing in my mind, a rhythmic throb that matched the beating of my heart. I waited.

11:58 AM.

The silence in the basement became absolute. Even the sound of my own breathing seemed to vanish.

11:59 AM.

A single drop of black liquid fell from the ceiling, landing on the back of my hand. It hissed, burning through my skin like acid.

I didn't flinch. I braced my legs and held the knife low.

12:00 PM.

The world screamed.

A thunderous crack ripped through the air, and the floor beneath me exploded. A vortex of dark smoke erupted from the ground, swirling upward in a violent cyclone. From the center of the smoke, a clawed hand, long and spindly, gripped the edge of the rift.

Then, the Shadow-Stalker emerged.

It was a nightmare made manifest, a creature of shifting shadows, its eyes two glowing slits of malevolent violet. It let out a shriek that shattered the remaining glass in the basement, a sound that promised only death.

I didn't run. I didn't scream.

I smiled.

"Welcome back, you piece of shit," I whispered.

I lunged forward, the knife leading the way, diving headfirst into the darkness of the apocalypse.

It has begun.

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