Vale stared at Evelyn as she settled onto the dark motorcycle, her posture relaxed, almost casual. The machine itself was a work of art, sleek, angular, its black surface swallowing the ambient light. Subtle lines of circuitry ran along its frame, and embedded within the handlebars was a compact scanning device. Evelyn leaned forward slightly, allowing the scanner to read her eyes, the faint hum of authorization confirming her identity.

  Vale glanced down at the helmet in his hands.

  For the first time since leaving the mountain, unease crept into his chest.

  Slowly, he lifted his gaze back to Evelyn and opened his mouth. When he spoke, his voice cracked despite his attempt at composure.

  “…Are we going to travel through the forest,” he paused, then gestured weakly at the motorcycle, “on that?”

  Evelyn turned her head toward him, her expression first neutral, then amused. A grin spread across her face as she raised her thumb and pointed it back at him.

  “Of course,” she said easily. “How else would we go?”

  Vale’s eyes widened.

  She was right. Irritatingly, undeniably right.

  And that was exactly the problem.

  The nervousness knotting his stomach had nothing to do with the danger, though racing through an untamed forest on a high-speed machine was, objectively, a terrible idea. No, the real issue was far simpler and far more embarrassing.

  Vale had never ridden in a vehicle before.

  He had only been in this world for two months, but still, the realization struck him hard. He had fought monsters, trained under legends, flown through the sky on a wyvern’s talons… yet the idea of sitting behind someone on a machine with wheels unsettled him more than most battles ever had.

  He sighed deeply and looked at Evelyn with pale, steady eyes.

  Then, without a word, he reached up and untied his ponytail, letting his long black hair fall freely down his back.

  Evelyn tilted her head, studying him for a moment.

  “Aren’t those long hairs going to be a hindrance?” she asked.

  Vale blinked and looked at her, genuinely confused.

  “…You have a way of cutting them immediately, then?” he asked.

  Evelyn’s grin widened.

  She raised one hand slightly.

  At her gesture, the shadow clinging to Vale’s feet, one she had bound to him long ago, began to stir. It rose unnaturally, stretching upward as if it were alive. Its form elongated, arms forming from darkness itself, their ends sharpening into curved, scythe-like edges.

  Vale glanced back at it, about to protest,

  but before he could speak, the shadow surged upward and engulfed him completely.

  Darkness wrapped around his body, muffling sound and movement. Vale stiffened, unable to move or even shout as the shadow went to work. He could feel it, swift, precise motions, cold air brushing against his neck as strands of hair fell away.

  Evelyn watched with clear satisfaction, arms crossed, a small, entertained smile on her face.

  Within seconds, it was over.

  The severed hair did not fall to the ground. Instead, it dissolved into the darkness, consumed entirely without leaving a trace. The shadow withdrew, bowing slightly in what could only be described as pride, before sinking back into the ground at Vale’s feet.

  Vale stood frozen for a moment.

  Then he lifted a hand to his head.

  His eyes widened in surprise.

  His hair was still long, but no longer unwieldy. The back now reached only to the middle of his neck, neatly shaped, while the front was cut cleanly away from his eyes. It would not interfere with combat, vision, or movement.

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  …It was actually well done.

  He raised a brow, genuinely impressed despite himself.

  Evelyn whistled once.

  “You look good, kid,” she said casually.

  Vale turned toward her, his expression still faintly annoyed.

  “…Thanks,” he replied, the word forced rather than heartfelt.

  He put on the helmet, securing the strap beneath his chin, and walked toward the motorcycle. Carefully, he climbed onto the back seat and held onto Evelyn as she ignited the engine.

  The motorcycle roared to life.

  Vale’s grip tightened immediately as his nerves flared.

  A massive gate ahead of them slid downward into the ground, clearing the path. Without hesitation, Evelyn twisted the throttle and launched them forward, straight into the outer forest.

  The speed was overwhelming.

  Wind tore past them, howling in Vale’s ears as trees blurred into streaks of green and shadow. Evelyn maneuvered with terrifying confidence, weaving between trunks, narrowly avoiding branches that would have crushed them both.

  Vale clung tightly to her and the machine, heart pounding.

  He could hear Evelyn laughing.

  Not nervous laughter.

  Joyful laughter.

  Then, abruptly,

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  Vale’s eyes snapped open wider as he looked past her.

  A cliff.

  “You didn’t know this was coming?!” he shouted.

  “Nope!” Evelyn replied cheerfully as the edge rushed toward them.

  Before Vale could even scream, the motorcycle launched off the cliff.

  They fell.

  Vale squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach lurched violently, the sensation of weightlessness twisting his insides. The motorcycle tilted midair as Evelyn adjusted its angle with practiced precision, allowing it to skim dangerously close to the cliff’s jagged edges,

  then they hit the ground.

  The impact was harsh but controlled, the suspension absorbing most of it as the motorcycle landed and continued forward without slowing.

  Vale did not let go.

  Not once.

  Evelyn merely rolled her eyes and accelerated.

  The rest of the ride passed in silence.

  Vale did not speak again.

  After nearly an hour, Evelyn finally slowed and brought the motorcycle to a stop. The engine cut out, leaving only the sound of wind and distant echoes.

  Vale immediately dismounted, ripping the helmet off and stumbling a few steps away. He patted himself down frantically, checking arms, legs, everything.

  He was intact.

  He turned to Evelyn, who was grinning at him unabashedly.

  “Look behind you,” she said, amusement clear in her voice.

  Vale turned.

  And froze.

  Before him stood the fracture.

  It tore through the landscape like a wound in reality itself, vast, jagged, and alive. Space around it warped unnaturally, shadows bending inward as if drawn to its core. A deep, oppressive presence radiated from it, ancient and alien, pressing against his senses even without touching atum.

  Vale’s breath caught.

  For the first time, he was seeing it with his own eyes.

  The gate to the abyss.

  Incredible.

  Vale stood motionless, mesmerized by the sight before him.

  Yet he did not step forward immediately.

  Instead, he turned to Evelyn, caution flickering across his face. She met his gaze with a calm smile and reached down to lock the motorcycle, the mechanism clicking softly in the background.

  “Go on,” she said lightly, waving him off. “I’ll wait here.”

  Vale swallowed hard.

  Then he turned back toward the fracture.

  It wasn’t large, not compared to the rifts he had seen depicted in reports or simulations. But there was something profoundly unsettling about it. Fracture was the only word that truly fit. It looked like a tear, like a crack in glass, except the glass was reality itself. The air around it shimmered faintly, edges warped as if the world had been damaged and never properly repaired.

  His eyes widened as he approached.

  Slowly, carefully, he extended a hand.

  His fingers brushed against the hovering shard.

  Nothing happened.

  No surge. No violent reaction. No collapse of space.

  Just as they had described, a fracture did not become a rift without warning.

  Vale exhaled and studied the broken fragment suspended in the air. It emitted a faint, unstable radiance, barely perceptible but unmistakable. If he had to guess, this was a first-rank fracture, the lowest classification possible.

  Harmless, relatively speaking.

  He observed it for several moments, curiosity overriding caution.

  Then he felt it.

  At first, he ignored the sensation.

  It was subtle, easy to dismiss as imagination or lingering nerves. But the feeling persisted, growing sharper, wronger. Something was moving inside him.

  No.

  Something was leaving him.

  Vale frowned and turned back toward Evelyn, ready to step away and report his observations. But before he could speak, the sensation intensified, chaotic, violent, utterly unrestrained.

  It felt like atum.

  But not controlled.

  Not shaped.

  This was raw, wild, like a storm tearing itself apart.

  His breath caught.

  Evelyn’s eyes went wide.

  She was running toward him.

  “Vale!”

  Pain exploded through his abdomen.

  Time slowed to a crawl.

  Vale twitched, his body attempting to react, but every movement only amplified the agony. It burned and tore at him from the inside, a deep, searing pain that robbed him of breath and thought alike.

  Blood spilled from his mouth, warm and metallic as it dripped down his chin. His vision blurred, the world tilting violently as his body began to shake, no longer under his control.

  He tried to move.

  He couldn’t.

  His muscles refused to obey, locking him in place as the pain continued to mount.

  Trembling, he lowered his gaze.

  His eyes widened in pure, primal terror.

  Memory struck him all at once.

  The academy.

  The golden statue of Dagon.

  That presence.

  That thing.

  Something had entered him that day.

  And now,

  Now he felt it tear its way out.

  With a sickening rupture, a massive claw burst forth from his stomach. It was easily the size of his forearm, jagged and monstrous, coated in fresh crimson blood that splattered onto the ground below.

  Vale’s mind raced.

  Instincts screamed at him, commands, strategies, desperate calculations for survival. Fight. Run. Call for help. Do something.

  But none of it mattered.

  His body would not respond.

  His thoughts fractured under the weight of shock and agony.

  All he managed to do was whisper a single word, his voice hoarse and broken.

  “…What?”