(Cael's POV)
Man… going through that portal felt like… a breeze.
Literally.
It was like getting sucked into some magical world — bunnies hopping around, fresh green grass, full Studio Ghibli vibes.
Was this that cool afterlife they promise once you get pancaked by a truck in an anime?
Well… no.
It was more like a slap in the face by God's own hand.
I fell. And not just any fall — a full potato sack moment, face-first into cracked dry dirt.
Dead trees. Heavy fog. Whole "end-of-the-world-but-with-creepy-music" aesthetic.
And the nutjob?
He landed like a superhero. Of course.
"The Intermediary!"
He threw his arms out like he was unveiling paradise.
"Welcome to the realm beyond the physical… and just before the end of all existence. This is the reflection of the earthly world!"
His voice had that mystical, melodic weight. Almost convinced me.
But holy hell… this place was ugly.
"Hmm… what a shithole," I said.
No point in faking excitement when you've already been spiritually steamrolled.
He just laughed and offered me a hand as I sat up, covered in dust and stripped of all dignity.
"Yeah… the swamp's a mess. But don't worry, just five hundred thousand kilometers and we'll hit the first bit of civilization!"
"…What?!"
This dude's nuts. Half a million? I don't even have shoes, self-esteem, or enough energy to swallow the taste of death in my mouth.
"What? Think I can't make it?" he asked, all offended like a kid defending their crayon drawing.
Then he freaking melted the ground with a guitar.
"Dude… if you told me you were a Transformer, I'd believe you."
I raised my hands, totally surrendered.
You gonna argue with a guy like that? Yeah, not me.
He grinned, all cocky, and held his hand out again — like some twisted prince charming who'd set a kingdom on fire just to watch it burn.
"Nope!" I stepped back.
"What, you wanna die out here? In your current state, you'd croak like a roach in a microwave."
Roach in a microwave? This guy was on another level…
I looked around.
The fog was biting the air. Thick. Sticky. Like it wanted to swallow me whole.
The darkness wasn't just lack of light — it was the presence of wrong.
Everything screamed "you're screwed" with a demonic accent.
Wrong energy. Like a horror B-movie with way too high a budget for my liking.
Afraid?
I was at hardcore mode, complete with internal soundtrack and a puckered butthole.
"What's out here, anyway?"
My question echoed into the fog like a haunted sigh.
And right there — it hit me.
I was neck-deep in a cosmic blender.
"Everything," he said casually.
"Monsters birthed from the rotten desires of the enlightened, tortured souls of bastard humans, demonic shadows… and self-righteous gods. Like the one that nearly deleted you from existence."
"…That many?"
I grabbed his hand like it was the last strap before the soul-shredder.
Either that or I'd become top-shelf spiritual ham.
"Shit, then get me the hell outta here!"
"Relax, relax!" he chuckled.
The bastard laughed at my suffering like I was a stand-up routine.
"You're with one of the fifteen Superior Guardians, man. I'm crazy powerful."
Then he closed his hand around mine and took a single step—
And we were airborne.
No effort.
No run-up.
No jump.
He just rose.
Like gravity quit its job.
"…Whoa."
One, two, a hundred… two hundred meters in the air.
My shoe flew off. Literally.
Dropped like, "Peace out, bro — it's all uphill from here."
"You… fly?"
"Every halfway-rational being does. Even you."
And then, the son of a bitch let go.
Just like that.
For a second, there was nothing but void.
Wind tearing my face off, stomach rising like an elevator to hell, and that one classic thought:
"Welp. I'm a statistic now."
But then… I didn't fall.
I… floated.
I just hung there in midair like physics called in sick just to screw with me.
"What the fuck…?"
Below me, a suffocating vastness — fog swallowing the world as far as the eye could see.
Dead, twisted trees like skeletons crawling out of their own graves.
Like old men at the bank, but with more attitude.
Silence.
Terrifying. Beautiful. Post-apocalyptic.
"One of the beauties of this world!" he yelled, floating beside me like it was a sunny park day in the apocalypse.
Flying son of a bitch.
Lemon-haired menace.
What else did this lunatic have planned for the stray soul he accidentally reeled in?
All I wanted was to make some cash.
Pay some bills.
Eat a decent pastel at the Saturday market…
Now I'm here.
Floating in a fever dream.
Trying not to die in creatively fucked-up ways.
"So tell me… why the hell did you bring me here?"
"I'm taking you to the Council! I want you to… become a Guardian!"
That evil little grin spread across his face — the kind that screams "this is gonna go horribly wrong."
"I just need confirmation!"
"Guardian? Wait—what? Why?!"
"You'll understand!" he said, flipping his hair like a shampoo commercial and — yeah — winked at me.
"Let's go!" — and blasted off like a damn missile, all giddy.
And me?
Shit… I followed him.
Even wanting to roundhouse-kick that lunatic… I followed.
Guardian? Are you insane?
I don't want a job where death is part of the daily grind.
Soon as I'm out of this madness, I'm opening a secondhand furniture shop.
Selling torn couches.
Living the chill life.
Inner peace. Low expectations.
But getting out?
That was just a dream.
I blinked — once, twice —
And there I was, face to face with a massive city.
Belo Horizonte looked like a dump compared to this.
The walls had to be at least a hundred meters tall.
"Welcome to the First District! City of Qedmaton!"
He looked at me sideways, expecting awe.
But all I could think was:
"What kind of dumbass name is that?"