"I have to find Father… I need to know why they weren't there to save her. I mean... they were just at home this morning before I went to school, and so was Rinka. All I've ever wanted was a quiet life, nothing exciting or fast. Go to college, find a wife, and live and die, like everyone else, but I've lost the person closest to me, how am I supposed to live normally now.
He took off down the street, leaving the quiet grave behind, Rinka resting in fragile peace.
"Splotch—splotch—splotch."
His footsteps splashed across the rain-slick pavement, but the sound was drowned beneath the weight in his chest. Each step carried him forward, yet the ache of loss clung tighter than ever.
"sniffle"
Every corner, every shadowed street, pulled him forward.
???: ["It was you."]
Vael: ["hm?—"]
The sudden voice tore into his skull, the headache surging back like a curse.
Vael: ["Aghh - Where are you, bastard?! Were you the one who killed my sister?!"]
And then, as if summoned by his rage, the figure appeared again—emerging from the rain. The same presence that had haunted the school hall now stood before him, silent and daunting.
???: [Who knows..]
The figure spoke with a cruel edge. He knew what happened to Rinka. And he wanted Vael to feel every second of it.
He knew even if he wasn't the culprit, he definitely played some part.
Vael: ["Tell me what happened to my sister"] - His voice filled with rage.
???: ["----"]
Vael: ["ANSWER ME YOU SON OF A BITCH"]
His rage actively growing under the silent mockery of the dark figure. He lunges towards him, throwing a blindly directed punch, aiming for his right cheek, trying his best to take out the supposed culprit.
But before his punch could land, a thread whipped out from the top of the figure's head, striking him square in the chest. The force knocked him back, like a push he's never felt before. His breath tore from his lungs as he hit the pavement. His glove scraped against the ground, useless.
Vael: ["Gah—! What… what is this power…?"]
It was the same as the thread he'd seen back in the school bathroom. Vael forced himself up, with his chest screaming with pain. The pulse hit his head again, sharp and splitting, but this time it wasn't just pain. He could feel it. A thread, right above his head, felt just like a small pin barely poking the middle of his scalp, and it was warm.
His chest tightened. It wasn't his choice to summon it, and it writhed like it wanted to break free. When he tried to move, the thread twitched, pulling against him, resisting like some wild beast on a leash.
Vael: ["Wh-what… is this…?"]
Every attempt to guide it only made the thread thrash harder, slipping free like it had a will of its own. It was tied to him, as if it were another limb, yet it moved with anger and recklessness — not by his command, but by his emotions.
Clinging to the thread above him felt like clutching a rabbit's foot, a desperate charm against something he couldn't control, hoping it would move in his favour.
And then, suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation in the back of his mind; for a split second, he felt the thread. He threw his hand towards the figure, almost as if to orchestrate the thread to bend from his will.
Vael noticed his subconscious will would move and form the thread like a video game.
The thread, in a dashing, jagged manner, shot towards the figure, shooting into the pavement just barely missing him.
"dammit - so close.."
The figure stood still, unfazed by the strike.
???: ["Not bad… for a child playing with fire."]
Vael: ["Playing with fire? What the hell are the things above our heads, and what part do you play in Rinka's death?"]
???: ["You're asking the wrong questions. Threads don't kill people… people do."]
He took a slow step forward, and the second his other foot touched the pavement, he vanished..
"Where is he?!?"
The figure appeared behind him, almost like he had teleported, and then he spoke.
???: ["But maybe losing her was what you needed. Look at you now—already lashing out, like a cornered animal."]
Vael: ["tch"]
He turned around, lunged again, swinging his fist. The thread above him jerked and moved with his fist like a chained whip, but the figure didn't even flinch—he raised a hand, almost with no effort, he swiped his hand to the right, and his own thread slashed outward and slammed into his side, leaving a searing sensation on his skin.
The thread slammed into him, and he coughed up blood as he grabbed his side.
"aghh... it hurts.."
???: ["Enough. I've seen what I needed to see."]
Vael, coughing as he forced himself up, glared at him with rage and fury, trying his best to muster up what he felt above his head like before, it was still there, but it wouldn't attack like it did before.
The figure tilted his head, smirking.
The figure's thread shimmered, then slowly retracted, dissolving back into the shadows around him. He no longer pressed the attack, just stood there, studying Vael's next moves like a lab specimen.
???: ["You're reckless… untrained, but the thread answered you. That alone makes you unlike any normal civilian. I look forward to seeing what kind of Will Weaver you become."]
Vael staggered to his feet, blood on his lip.
"Will... Weaver?"
???: ["Rinka's death was no accident, boy, don't be mistaken. But you're asking the wrong questions. If you want answers… ask your father why he hides from his own threads."]
Vael froze.
"How does he know my dad?"
Vael: ["What the hell does my father have to do with this?"]
???: ["Seek him, you'll find out soon enough."]
Vael: ["Don't run away from me motherfucker! You know what happened to Rinka—tell me!"]
With that, the figure stepped back into the rain, his outline blurring until only the storm remained.
Vael: ["No! Come back and face me!!"]
Vael sank back to his knees in desperation. He could still feel his skin burning.
And just like that, the world as he knew it ultimately flipped upside down in just one day.
Vael: ["I won't… I can't stay powerless. Not anymore."] - Clutching his shirt.
The thread above him was still, as if it were sleeping, yet he still had little to no idea of what it was or where it came from.
Vael: ["Threads… mine… theirs… what does that even mean?"]
For a moment, he just stood there, listening to the rain, feeling the thread pulse above him. It was dangerous, uncontrollable, but also his will.
"---"
Then, he gathered his strength, and with a deep breath, Vael started moving again. Every step toward his father's office felt heavier than the last, but each was a step toward answers—toward understanding what everything that had happened truly meant.
The storm wasn't just outside. It was inside him too, and he had no choice but to walk. straight into it.
Vael: ["I'll find the truth… no matter what it takes."]
----
Step by step, he made his way to his father's office, the place where the meeting was meant to take place, in hopes that he would be there.
Vael: ["Father… please, be there…"]
He skidded around the corner and saw the office building looming ahead. The windows glowed faintly, but the warmth inside felt impossibly far away from the storm raging inside him. Vael's fingers trembled as he reached for the door handle. He imagined walking in, seeing his father safe, Rinka still alive, everything ordinary again.
Vael: ["It has to be… it has to be…"]
He pushed the glass door leading into the building. Sprinting up the stairs, through the halls, and towards his office.
Vael pushed his father's office door open, the hinges screaming, and the air inside was still, too still—like the room hadn't been touched in years. Dust floated in the pale lamplight, settling over bookshelves that should've been busy, papers that should've been scattered.
His father's office. Empty.
Looking around, there's not a soul in sight. The scraping sound echoed down the empty hallway. As he arrived at his father's office, he opened the door with a look of hope mixed with panic, but the office beyond was dark except for a single desk lamp, papers lay scattered, and the chair behind the desk was tipped over.
Vael froze, eyes darting around the room. Shadows seemed to crawl across the walls.
Vael: ["Father…?"]
No answer. Noone.
"mmmmmm"
Just the humming from the lights, the rain against the windows, and the single desk that seemed to fill the empty room.
Then… movement
A thin thread shimmered in the dim light, writhing like it had a mind of its own. It pulsed with an intent that made Vael's stomach tighten. It wasn't his thread, and it wasn't Rinka's.
Before he could step forward, the thread darted toward him and vanished into the shadows.
Vael: [Hello??"]
"---"
Vael: [Dammit! He's not here!"]
Looking for anyone and anything that would give him any information.
He circled the desk, checked the chair, the corners—everywhere he looked, nothing. The silence felt staged, like the room itself was hiding something from him.
"Bam!"
Vael: [aghh!"]
Slamming on the empty desk, he left behind.
---
".... Why aren't you here?"