Chapter 23

The desert. Countless missions in the sands, but each time it felt like a new trial. The sand, hot and cruel, stretched to the horizon, as if part of something sinister. The wind hit my face, and it no longer mattered how many kilometers we'd driven or how long we'd been traveling. Everything here was the same—silence, deaf and hostile. At this distance, nothing could be heard except the low growl of the car's engine and the sound of sand. In such a vehicle, every sound felt like an alien intrusion into the void.

Jane sat beside me, gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if she herself didn't believe we were heading there. I saw her profile: tense facial lines, slightly pursed lips. She didn't speak, didn't ask questions. We both knew talking here was pointless. The desert doesn't like conversations. It swallows words as it swallows everything living. Everything had already been said and discussed.

I didn't like this place. Honestly, I hated it. Places where people vanish, where old maps lose their power, where even the sun feels hostile. The City in the Mist. No one has seen it in its entirety. No one has returned from there with clear eyes or explained what happens there. Many tried. But they disappeared. Vanished, like thousands of others who ventured into this hell. In the desert, there was only one path—and it was deadly.

Jane talked about her father. He was an important figure, but she didn't specify what happened to him. I only knew he'd disappeared here a month ago. She remained loyal to him, even if others didn't understand why she kept searching. She couldn't live without trying. But I… I knew the chances of finding him were almost nil. And yet, I went with her. Why? My head hurts? What am I…

Blinking, I snapped out of it. Everything was gone.

The car jolted on every bump. I felt the weapons strapped to the floor and seats, as if they were reminding me of the past. There was a feeling I might not return, and it was familiar. We were both in danger. The more I thought, the less I believed in luck. Let me go, and I'll end up back in those memories, in these sands, where everything is a vile picture of death and fear.

We drove a few more kilometers. The car, though new and upgraded, moved as if it were part of this unnatural world. All modifications were made to survive the desert. Only they kept us alive.

As we approached the Anomalous Zone, everything around seemed to freeze. The atmosphere thickened, the air grew heavy, as if decades of events were compressed into this moment. A zone where nothing can be changed. A zone where memories vanish. Words, words, and more words. I'm sick of it. Too many loud words.

There it was—the City in the Mist. The silhouettes of buildings, once a city, were now just vague shapes in the darkness. We kept moving, but I knew going further was pointless. The void consumed everything. And yet, I heard Jane whisper softly:

"This is just the beginning." - Whatever.

Ten minutes later, we stopped at the edge of what was once a city. It wasn't fully visible, and I knew this was only the start. The fog before us wasn't ordinary. It was something else. Perhaps alive. The city drowned in this gray void, like a mirage vanishing at first glance. Only Jane and I were here, amidst it all. Others who tried to reach this place disappeared. The zone devoured them like a predator. The outline of a perfect circle, where the city began, was under my feet.

I got out of the car and stepped onto the ground. The air here was different from the desert's—no harshness or emptiness I feared. There was something inhuman here. The sand under my nails remained hot, but it no longer mattered. The darkness poisoned everything within its reach. With each step, breathing became harder. The pressure on my chest grew, the fog pulling me into its embrace. This place was an anomaly. Even my heightened senses couldn't pierce through this fog.

Jane didn't move. I turned and saw her sitting in the car, motionless, without emotion. She just stared ahead, where the city vanished into the fog that had swallowed her father. She said nothing, asked nothing.

I walked forward, into this city, into these ruins, onto this graveyard of the past. The closer I got, the more I felt the fog clinging to me, pulling me deeper. There were almost no sounds. Only the noise under my feet—like the sand wasn't sand but a conductor of sound. It seemed the entire city was alive, its breathing audible in every crack between the buildings' walls. Entering the city, I immediately realized this place wasn't just abandoned. It was dead, yet somehow alive. Something moved in the debris of the buildings. We saw silhouettes—shadows of what was once life. It was an ominous foreboding, a shadow following us, giving no peace. The anomalies affected us, not letting go of our minds or bodies. A strange influence I overcame by channeling energy into my head. Dangerous, but there was no choice.

"Where to?" The fog here wasn't as dense, and Jane, holding her rifle, carefully scanned the surroundings.

"To the center," she replied shortly and headed straight down the street of old ruins. The buildings around us resembled ancient remnants of houses. Ordinary, not even mud-brick. Just houses, but there were no sounds of wind or our steps. The fog, swirling at our feet, consumed everything. Even the sun, trying to illuminate this place, couldn't break through the realm of shadows and mist.

I followed her, feeling the fog wrap around us more tightly. We walked down a ruined street past fragments of buildings, once homes, now empty shells. They didn't resemble architecture but rather bones, skeletons of an ancient city buried here long ago. Stone walls, slanted roofs, broken windows—everything looked like remnants stripped of meaning yet still standing. One thing was strange: despite the destruction, everything seemed preserved as it was when the city was alive. As if the fog kept it in this state.

I tried to listen, to catch any sound breaking the tomb-like silence. But nothing. The wind, if there was any, made no rustle. Even our steps didn't echo. The fog swallowed them. I could only see us sinking deeper into this world.

"Are you sure this is what you need?" I asked, not particularly worried, just out of curiosity, holding back my sarcasm. "You realize we could get lost here, and your father's long gone?"

Jane didn't answer, didn't turn around. She kept walking, as if every step was planned in advance, as if she knew this place better than I did. Her figure faded into the fog, but she didn't lose confidence or stray from the path. How strange…

A few minutes later, we stood before a massive building—clearly important and central to this city. It was dark, its outlines barely visible in the fog, but it was a true wall. Jagged, damaged by time, but not completely destroyed. It seemed the entire city gravitated toward this place, as if everything was focused here, where the answer might lie.

Jane approached a massive door of old, cracked metal, covered in rust. She didn't stop, didn't slow down. She simply walked up and felt for the handle in the shadows. It didn't work at first, but the door yielded with an unpleasant creak, opening a crack.

And so, we found ourselves in another world. A world where time and space no longer existed. Ugh, getting philosophical with this strange girl.

Passing through the door, we entered a vast hall. There were no windows, no light. Only a faint glimmer pierced through the fog. I looked around. The hall was enormous, its walls stretching into infinity, dissolving into the mist. But in the center, right before us, stood a massive spiral staircase. Its contours barely emerged in the dim light, starting from a platform and ascending, disappearing into the mystical darkness. This wasn't just a structure—something else, something I'd never seen.

I couldn't tear my eyes from the staircase. My thoughts swirled around it. It was too vast to fit within this building. Very interesting. There was something unexplored, alluring, leading into the unknown in this spiral. The sense of exploration that had haunted me since childhood was at its peak. Everything around seemed fascinating.

"We have to go up," Jane said. Her voice was quiet but confident. She didn't look back at me. As if she knew what to do. And she moved forward.

Climbing was unbearably heavy. The spiral staircase wound upward, and with each step, it grew darker. I didn't understand how it could be so long, stretching into black nothingness, but Jane kept going, never stopping. She moved as if she knew no fatigue or doubt.

She had to keep going. And I had to follow. Strange that I…

When we finally reached the top after an hour, we faced a void. A huge hole in the wall of the room we'd entered led into the fog. No windows, no openings, except this hole. And there—fog, through which my gaze couldn't penetrate.

"The entrance," Jane said shortly and removed her gear with the weapons. To my questioning look, she averted her eyes and explained, "Weapons don't work properly there; they might jam."

"And how will you defend yourself?" I asked, not understanding why she'd brought them in the first place.

"With this," she replied. Her nails lengthened, becoming like daggers, her eyes turned yellow, her mouth filled with fangs, and her ears sharpened. A strange and unnatural sight, but not the worst I'd seen.

"Then, ladies first," I gestured toward the entrance.

It was time to find out what happened to Jane's father and why I was here.

The sweet smell grew stronger.