Ryu, after nearly five minutes of theatrical groaning, muttering, and pointing out imaginary bruises on the fruit, finally wore down the vendor's patience.
"Fine, fine," the man snapped, flapping a hand at him. "Half-price for the ones about to go bad, but you take the whole bag."
Ryu lit up. "Deal!"
He did a tiny, triumphant hop. It was subtle enough that he could pretend it wasn't a hop if anyone pointed it out, and leaned over the crate the vendor dragged out. The fruits weren't great… but they weren't terrible either.
Ryu crouched down in front of them like he was judging rare artifacts. This shouldn't have been complicated. But it always was.
He held up an apple first.
If I bring this, Iyu's gonna say, 'Ryu, why do you always pick the ones that taste like wet sand?'
He could practically hear it already.
He set it down.
Then he reached out for an orange.
If I bring this, Dad's gonna sigh and say, 'Ryu… you know Iyu gets the peel smell everywhere. Your brother's gonna stink up the whole room again.'
Ryu grimaced. He didn't want to deal with either of those conversations. He swapped fruit back and forth between his hands as if one would magically start glowing to indicate the right choice.
Apple. Wrong.
Orange. Also wrong.
Apple. Still wrong.
Orange…
He paused, squinting at it like it personally offended him.
"I swear they're making this hard on purpose…"
He finally made a decision, or at least attempted to. But just as his fingers closed around one of the fruits, a wave of sound rolled across the market.
Clap!
Then another.
Then dozens.
Ryu blinked, straightened, following the crowd's gaze upward to see a faint ripple shimmering across the sky like heat above the sand. But instead of fading, it thickened, brightened, and curved downward.
It stretched across the horizon, bending, locking, solidifying into a massive dome of blue light. Hexagonal panels flared one after another, racing across the surface like a blooming flower until the entire village was wrapped in the glowing structure.
The crowd cheered.
"Part of the show!"
"Look at how bright it is, so pretty!"
"They're starting early this year!"
Ryu didn't clap.
He didn't smile.
He didn't even breathe for a moment.
His instincts clawed at him. Something in him recoiled. Not fear, but something sharper. A wrongness he felt deep in his spine. He dropped both fruits back to their crates.
Why does that feel… bad?
The blue dome pulsed again. Ryu didn't want to think about it. He spun around and ran, weaving through the crowd back toward where he'd left Iyu. He expected to see a small, annoyed brother tapping his foot and complaining that Ryu took too long.
But when he reached the aisle–
Iyu wasn't there.
Ryu stopped dead. His eyes scanned every face, every movement.
"Iyu?"
No reply.
His stomach twisted. Hard.
The dome glowed overhead, washing everything in a transparent blue.
The last traces of Ryu's carefree mask, the joking, the haggling, the silly celebration over fruit fell away. His posture shifted, shoulders tightening. His expression sharpened.
"Iyu… where did you go?"
And then he moved again, fast, cutting through bodies with a hunter's precision, eyes wide and searching. The market became a maze, and he pushed through it with one thought repeating like a drumbeat.
Find him.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Iyu was still locked onto the hooded man. Even with the marketplace alive, with merchants shouting over one another and musicians warming up drums for the evening rush, none of it reached him. His focus has narrowed into a tunnel pointed at that single figure that slipped between stalls.
The stranger's movements were wrong.
Too controlled.
Too measured.
Too familiar.
The way he pivoted his shoulders to avoid a passing cart…
The way he kept one arm pinned slightly inside the cloak as if hiding something…
The way his stride had the faintest rhythm of training…
Iyu's instincts tightened like a wire. Ryu always said he overthought things, but Iyu wasn't imagining this. After reading his file over and over again, he knew how Warhound moved. He'd studied it, memorized it, resented it.
And now he was seeing it.
He crept closer, breath shallow, waiting for the right angle to see the face hidden in the hood's shadow until–
The figure suddenly stopped. Froze. Slowly… mechanically… the hooded head tilted upward. Iyu's stomach dropped as he followed the gaze, watching as the sky shimmered.
Like a ripple across a pond, a soft blue wave arched over the rooftops, stretching outward in all directions before forming a massive, translucent dome. Gasps erupted around him.
Lines of glowing hexagons raced across the surface of the barrier, each one clicking into place like a puzzle assembling itself in midair. The light reflected in everyone's eyes, turning the crowd into a sea of blue-tinted silhouettes.
Iyu stared, stunned. Not at the air, but at the hooded figure. Because as the blue light washed over him, the figure changed. He wasn't Warhound. Not even close. A civilian tugging off his hood, revealing a confused older man with thinning hair and a tired scowl.
Iyu's posture deflated.
"Great," he muttered bitterly. "Waste of time."
Ryu would absolutely mock him for this. He could hear it already.
'Oooh, scary cloak! Wanna check behind every curtain too, detective?'
Iyu clenched his jaw. He refused to go back empty-handed. At least he'd bring something useful. He joined the crowd gathering where the barrier dipped closest to the street. A few kids were already poking it.
Adults were pushing against it cautiously. Some threw pebbles. Some pressed both hands against the glowing surface. Iyu got up and touched it.
It was… strange.
Not solid, not liquid. A semi-gel-like resistance that stiffened when he pushed harder, like pressing into something that became more resistant based on how much force you used. And underneath that strange consistency was a soft, low hum, almost like a heartbeat.
He pushed a dinger in hard. The barrier reacted instantly, tightening until it was immovable.
He pulled back, shaking his hand. No matter what he tried. Pressing, tapping, even flicking it with a small stone. It wouldn't let anything pass through. Around him, conversations buzzed.
"It's part of the festival, right?"
"I've never seen something like this before…"
"Maybe the elder planned a new show?"
"Who would even build something this big?"
Iyu listened closely, but there were no answers. Just confusion. Even the locals didn't know what this was. A small pulse of pride warmed him, it was pretty useless but still information, real evidence. Enough to justify why he left Ryu alone for a few minutes.
"Good," he murmured to himself. "At least this time he cant–"
A distant sound cut him off. At first, it blended with the festival murmurs.
Then it sharpened.
One scream. High, panicked.
Then another.
And another.
A rapid swell of shouts built behind him. The crowd shifted, subtly at first, like people adjusting positions. Then suddenly, violently. The cluster of curious villagers dissolved into chaos as a wave of bodies surged forward, pushing in one direction.
A stampede.
Festival-goers tripped over baskets and stools. Vendors shielded their displays, shouting in confusion. A musician stumbled, his drum rolling away as getting crushed underfoot. Iyu staggered back as a man slammed into him shoulder-first.
"What's happening?!" he shouted, but no one heard him. People weren't running toward something, they were running away. Fear twisted the air around him, thick and urgent. And in that terrifying motion, Iyu realized something far worse.
Ryu was nowhere in sight.
Iyu fought just to stay upright. The crowd was no longer a crowd, but a living wave, shoving, crushing, sweeping him whenever it wanted. A shoulder slammed into his back. Another person nearly toppled onto him.
He stumbled, his sandals scraping on the packed dirt, the roar of panicked voices drowning out every thought he tried to hold on to. He reached for anything he could anchor himself to.
His hands found a pole from one of the vendor stands. For a heartbeat it held. Then a heavy body crashed onto it.
Crack.
The pole snapped in half like a dry twig, sending a jolt of splinters into his palm. Iyu gasped, tightening his grip on the ruined piece as if determination alone would stop him from being swallowed whole by the stampede.
The world blurred. Dust stung his eyes. A stranger's arm shoved across his shoulder, forcing his head down. He tried to lift it, tried to break through the noise and scream the one name that mattered.
"Ry–!"
But an elbow slammed into his jaw, snapping his teeth together and cutting off his voice before it could even form. Pain flashed white in his vision. His knees buckled. His breath hitched in panic.
He was going to fall.
If he fell, he wouldn't get back up.
Just as he started to pitch forward, a hand pushed through the chaos toward him.
"Grab on!" A voice shouted out.
Iyu didn't think. He seized it.
He felt a sharp pull, firm enough to drag him out of the crushing bodies. He was pulled sideways into a narrow gap between two stone buildings, a space distant from the chaos unfolding.
The noise softened into an echoing roar. The air was clearer. Solid walls pressed around them instead of frantic people. Iyu staggered, catching himself on one knee, breath trembling.
He wiped at his eyes and looked up. The boy who had saved him stood only a step away. He was older, taller, maybe Ryu's age, with dark red hair mussed as if he had been running too.
His clothes were travel-worn, dust streaking the sleeves, but his eyes were sharp, alert, not frozen with fear like so many outside. "You okay?" the boy asked, kneeling slightly to meet Iyu's gaze.
Iyu nodded slowly, swallowing against the ache in his jaw. "I… think so. Thank you." The boy offered a small smile. "Didn't want to watch you get crushed." Despite the chaos outside, despite his shaking hands, Iyu almost felt safe hearing his words.
"What's happening out there?" Iyu asked, voice tight. The older boy shook his head. "No idea. I was looking around the market and suddenly everyone started running. Like something scared the whole place at once."
Iyu peered toward the alley's entrance, where shadows of people stampeded past in panicked waves. His chest tightened at the thought of Ryu and Ikra being somewhere out there.
He couldn't stay here. He couldn't stay safe while they were still in danger. "We need to see," Iyu said, forcing the tremble out of his voice. "We can't stay down here." The boy nodded immediately, as if he had been thinking the same thing.
"Higher ground," he agreed, "Somewhere we can look without getting trampled. If we can see the center of the panic, maybe we'll understand what started it." Iyu hesitated. He didn't know this person, didn't trust him. But the alternative was going back into the chaos alone.
He nodded.
They made their way to the nearest building with an outdoor staircase. The older boy led the way, scanning every shadow, every sound. Iyu followed, still shaken but recovering enough to question the stranger.
"What were you doing in the market?"
"Passing through."
"What for?"
"Food."
"How long were you here?"
"A couple hours.
The replies were honest but curt. Controlled, like someone who was used to being cautious. They reached the landing before the last flight when Iyu pressed again.
"So where are you from?"
The older boy stopped abruptly. Iyu nearly walked into him. "You're asking a lot of questions to someone who just saved you from getting crushed." the boy said quietly and firmly. "And you haven't even told me your name."
Iyu froze. Right. He hadn't. Embarrassment crept up his face. "...Iyu," he muttered. Then louder, trying to sound composed, "I'm Iyu." The boy studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Pheo."
Now that formalities were out of the way, his voice softened. Not much, but just enough to sound almost patient. "Look, with everything going on down there, we're going to have to work together. You don't have to trust me completely. But don't make it harder than it already is."
Iyu sighed and lowered his gaze. "...Alright."
"Good," Pheo said. "Then let's move."
When they reached the rooftop, the world felt wrong. Not loud, not chaotic, just wrong. The silence that wrapped around them wasn't comforting or peaceful. It was the kind that rang in the ears, the kind that made your skin prickle because it felt forced.
Iyu noticed it first.
"...The noise stopped," he murmured.
His voice sounded small in the open air, nearly swallowed by the faint vibration of the blue dome far overhead. The faint buzz of its light crawled along the edges of the sky like static.
Pheo didn't answer. He took slow steps toward the railing, shoulders tense. Iyu followed but immediately ran into a problem he was long familiar with, his height. He jumped once. Then twice. His fingers barely hooked the top edge.
"Why'd they make these things so tall?" he grumbled, jumping again. On the next jump, he caught just a flash of torn cloth below before dropping back down with an irritated huff. Pheo leaned forward, bracing his hands on the railing, and looked over. The sight hit him like a hammer to the chest.
The street below was a massacre. Stalls split open, tables overturned, baskets crushed underfoot. The bright festival colors smeared into the sand like spilled paint. Decorations that had hung from poles now lay shredded like fabric caught in a storm.
And the bodies.
The bodies were the worst part.
Some collapsed where they had fallen. Others were thrown across the marketplace as if something had flung them aside without slowing down. Some had wounds too deep, too violent to be anything but deliberate.
Pheo's breath stuttered.
His vision swam, and suddenly the sane wasn't sand, the stalls weren't stalls, and the bodies weren't strangers. The caverns rose around him in a suffocating rush. The metallic smell of blood, the echo of dripping water, the line of corpses left behind by Warhound's slaughter.
He saw himself walking through the tunnels again. Barefoot, the faces of hopeless kids surrounding him as they constantly struck the ground. When he had to continue even when his muscles screamed not to, all to survive.
His chest tightened.
The roar of the crowd below warped into the memory of distant screams. The blue dome's hum turned into Beam's steady, heavy breathing.
Then pain.
A solid punch to his arm. Small, but earnest. He gasped and jerked back to the present, nearly stumbling. "HEY!" Iyu snapped. "I've been asking you! What do you see? Why aren't you saying anything?!"
Pheo blinked at him. The nightmare peeled away layer by layer. Iyu was still hopping, still too short to see anything over the railing, his face twisted with frustration. "Come on!" he barked. "I can't see from down here!"
Pheo inhaled to steady himself. His throat felt too tight. He turned back toward the sight, but this time forced his gaze to remain clinical. Scanning patterns, distances, not the bodies themselves.
"I'm… not sure yet," he said quietly. "But whatever did that… hasn't left."
Iyu froze. Pheo took a step away from the railing and subtly guided Iyu back with him.
"And if we're not careful," he continued, voice low, "we'll be next."
That landed harder than he expected. Iyu's bravado flickered. He swallowed, eyes darting to the stairway, then back to Pheo. "What do we do now?" the younger boy asked, barely above a whisper.
"We stay off the streets," Pheo answered immediately. "We stay higher up. Somewhere we can barricade if we have to. And we move fast." He gave one last glance over the edge. Something below shifted, but he couldn't make out what it was. Only that it wasn't human.
He stepped back again.
"This wasn't an accident," he said. "And whatever caused it is still down there." The dome shuddered with a faint, unsettling pulse, sealing the village like a trap. Iyu exhaled shakily. "So… we're stuck here with it?"
Pheo tightened his grip on Iyu's wrist. "For now," he said. "But we're not dying on this village." Above them, the shimmering barrier flickered in the afternoon sun. Below them, something moved again.
And the village, once alive with noise and color, seemed to exhale into something more darker.