Chapter one... Broken system

A stench hung in the air—pungent, suffocating, and inexplicably familiar. It greeted me that day as if it had been waiting, seeping into my senses with an almost sentient persistence. And from that moment forward, it never truly left. Every day that followed carried its foul trace, a constant reminder of the moment everything changed.

But the noise… that was different. That only happened once.

The day the world split open.

I caught only a glimpse—just a second—but it was enough to sear itself into my mind. I struggle to describe what I saw, not because I lack the words, but because no words could ever be enough. It was as if something had forced itself into existence where there had been nothing before. Yet even "nothing" fails to capture it. Nothing would imply an absence, a void. But this… this was something far worse.

I had no time to comprehend the horror before me. Darkness swallowed everything, smothering thought, sight, and reason.

And then, the stench returned. The first thing I perceived in that oblivion. The first sign that I was still here.

You must be wondering how it all began. Sometimes, even I forget. But let's take a trip down the corridors of memory—down the path of a story that should never have been.

My eyes opened—just as they did every other cursed morning—though some days, I wished they wouldn't. This world was never one I wanted to wake up in. It wasn't the world my father had envisioned… or so my mother used to say. I had never met him. His absence was a story she clung to, a convenient fiction that she spun before she, too, was gone. Even if it never made much sense, I held onto it. Sometimes, belief was all a person had.

With a weary sigh, I rubbed my temples and forced myself upright. My so-called bed was a patchwork of scavenged metal scraps, with bits of foam strategically placed to spare the parts of my body most prone to aching. A luxury, all things considered. The kind of comfort few could afford in a place like this.

They called it The Barrens—the forsaken outskirts of Rosewood City. A dumping ground for the unwanted. The poor, the exiled, those society had deemed unworthy of a roof over their heads. I happened to fit into both categories. When my mother died, the house we had lived in was repossessed, as if my existence alone wasn't enough to justify staying. I was shuffled between reluctant relatives for a time, though the arrangement was never meant to last. Eventually, they found an excuse to be rid of me—accusing me of something unthinkable. Attempted murder. Framed, of course. But if you knew the bastard they claimed I tried to kill, you'd probably have considered it too.

I pushed the memory aside and made my way to the broken mirror propped against the wall. My reflection stared back at me—a frame so lean it barely passed for muscular. At this point, I wouldn't have minded being fat, but even the luxury of overindulgence was a dream far beyond my reach.

With another sigh, I stepped outside, letting the morning air settle against my skin. A short walk led me to the river nearby, one of the few blessings of The Barrens. If there was one thing even the forsaken could agree on, it was the value of clean water. No one dared pollute it—not out of respect, but necessity. The current ran clear, save for a faint brown tinge. Here, at least, I could find a moment's reprieve,

"Nice to see you up so early."

A soft, familiar voice drifted from behind me. A woman's voice. Good thing I was only almost completely naked.

I sighed, keeping my back to her. "You always know how to make the weirdest entrances."

"Not like I have much of a choice, considering where I sleep," I muttered, turning slightly—just in time to feel the warmth of slender, pale hands wrapping around me from behind. A quiet, knowing chuckle followed.

"Like that's ever stopped you."

Then, just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone, stepping out of the river with an air of effortless grace.

"Try not to be late," she called over her shoulder.

I exhaled a slow, weary breath. "Do I really have to go?" I asked, tugging off my underwear, though I was already submerged up to my chest.

"Yes, Caster, you do. It's important to him…" She paused just before vanishing behind the crumbling wall, her eerily calm smile lingering. "Besides, tomorrow's your birthday too. And you don't want to live and die alone, do you?"

That was Kaya—the only family I had, though defining what she was to me was another matter entirely. Sometimes, she felt like a mother. Other times, a sister. And then, there were the moments when… No. Best not to think about that.

I pulled myself from the water, drying off with my ever-faithful rag before slipping into a set of clean clothes—an uncommon luxury, but today was a special occasion. I even went as far as to retrieve my so-called "perfume," spritzing a little onto the essential areas.

That was when it happened.

A scent—sharp, pungent—cut through the air. It wasn't me. My perfume was cheap, but not that cheap. The problem wasn't just the odor itself. It was that… I couldn't place it. It smelled like nothing I had ever encountered before. And for some reason, it filled me with a creeping, unnatural dread.

A dread that only grew stronger by the second.