Neutralization (2)

The city…

Well, more specifically—East City of District #1.

That's where I was born. Where I've lived my whole life.

The ancient empires and monarchies that once carved up Elyndor? Gone. Dissolved long ago into dust and myth. What remains is a single continent under one name: Elyndor.

But even unity brings division. Elyndor is split into 128 Districts—each like a self-contained nation. Some rich. Some poor. Some just… forgotten.

Each district holds four cities: North, South, West… and East.

East City is the worst of them all.

Nobody wants to come here. Not unless they're desperate. Or stupid. Or both.

Rotten infrastructure. Corrupt systems. Rotten people. Rotten everything. Even the air feels tired of hanging around.

As Vess and I walk the cracked streets toward our assignment, we pass an alley. A man is getting mugged by four others. His voice is hoarse from screaming—then silent when he notices us.

Our eyes meet. He's not begging for help. He's begging for meaning. His life wasn't worth much, but the last crumpled bills in his hand? That was survival. Without them, death would come slow. I could see it in his face.

We said nothing.

We did nothing.

It's not our job. And we can't afford to waste time.

---

Facility 12 sits just outside city limits. Tucked into the edge of the forest like something the city wanted to forget. They say it used to belong to the P-Association—the ones who poked at distortions like they were toys.

Reports say people go missing here.

I say if you're stupid enough to wander into a P-Association site alone, you get what you deserve.

The building is quiet. Too quiet. We step through shattered glass doors into a world left behind—long, narrow corridors lit by dying fluorescent lights that stutter like an anxious heartbeat.

I keep my stance tight. Every muscle coiled like a spring. Sword sheathed but ready.

Vess?

Vess looks like he's out for a walk.

"Damn," he mutters, arms stretched behind his head like we're on a Sunday stroll. "My first mission with a Grade 2 Neutralizer, and it's dead quiet? What a letdown."

I don't respond. He keeps talking.

"I mean, I get it. We're supposed to 'scout' or whatever. But how am I supposed to prove myself if there's nothing to slice up?"

He grins, cocky. But his eyes flick toward me. Measuring. Like he's waiting for me to say he's got potential.

I don't give him the satisfaction.

"Better quiet than crawling with distortion," I say.

Vess scoffs, then chuckles—low and sharp. "Tch. Spoken like a man who's seen too much. Or just old."

---

We search the facility for nearly an hour.

Empty hallways. Smashed lab equipment. Broken capsules, rusted restraints. Rooms where experiments happened. Rooms where mistakes happened.

No windows.

Still, the air grows colder the deeper we go. Not like winter cold. Not like air conditioning.

Wrong cold. The kind that hums against your bones. The kind that doesn't make sense.

"You feel that?" Vess finally asks, voice lower now.

"I do," I reply. "And the unnatural usually means distortion."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps.

Vess and I freeze.

It's not ours. We're side by side. And there's no one else listed on the contract.

The steps echo from just beyond the hallway corner.

Vess grips his daggers. They gleam even in the stuttering light—ornate, expensive, probably custom-forged. Typical.

I draw my old, battered sword. Reliable. Heavy. Familiar.

The steps grow louder.

Not fast. Not slow. But steady.

Like whatever's around the corner knows we're here.

Like it wants us to wait.

Vess mutters under his breath, more to himself than me. "...Okay. This is fine. We've got this. Just another freak show."

But his bravado slips. I catch the twitch in his jaw. The way his eyes refuse to look at the dark corner ahead for too long.

The footsteps echoed closer.

Vess grinned. "About damn time. I was getting bored. Thought I'd get to stab something already."

"Be quiet," I whispered. "Listen."

Silence followed.

Not the kind of silence that comes naturally—this was suffocating. Pressed against the walls of the corridor like it had weight. Like it was watching.

Vess turned his head. "...Huh. What was I saying?"

"What?"

He paused. "I thought I said something else just now."

"You said you wanted to stab something."

"I did?" He blinked. "Weird. Feels like I've been here a while."

"It's only been an hour."

"No. I mean... longer."

The flickering lights slowed. Then stopped. A low hum began vibrating through the walls. A heartbeat that wasn't ours.

I looked down the hallway again. Nothing.

But it felt like something was still approaching—closer, then gone. Like time itself was pulsing backward.

Vess gripped his daggers tighter. His bravado was slipping. "I think I saw something in the corner of my eye."

"There's nothing there," I said. Even as I said it, my tongue felt thick. My voice sounded… distant.

And then—

The hallway stretched. Subtle, at first. Then longer. Too long. Too dark.

We hadn't moved, but it felt like we'd walked miles.

A cold breeze. But there were no windows. No vents.

I turned to Vess.

He was staring at me.

"…Your eyes," he said slowly. "They're... different."

"What?"

He didn't answer.

...?