I swallowed hard, pressing my palms together to stop the trembling. My body still felt too light and too numb, like I'd been scooped out and left half-empty.
The bus shook over uneven ground, the lights misbehaving every few seconds. The people around us had started to stir, some shifting uneasily, others sitting perfectly still, like they already knew what came next.
A man near the middle glanced toward the front window. His eyes were blank, yet he smiled. A woman beside him gripped her wrist, whispering to herself. A few others looked lost, confused, frightened, still trying to understand.
I guess I wasn't the only one new here.
I turned toward Theo, hoping for something or anything that sounded like reason. But he wasn't looking at me anymore. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, jaw tense.
The light caught on the scar near his temple, barely visible beneath his dark hair. For a moment, he looked almost human like someone carrying a story he didn't want to tell.
Then the bus slowed.
The sound of brakes scraped through the silence, followed by that same distorted voice from above.
"Arrival: The Blood Market."
The passengers rose. Some quickly, like they'd done this before; others hesitated, their confusion clinging to the air.
My breath caught. "Where are they going?"
Theo finally moved. He stood, straightened his jacket, and looked down at me. His expression stayed unreadable, but his voice was quieter now…almost reluctant.
"Follow me. I'll brief you," he said. "But after that, you're on your own."
I blinked, unsure if it was an offer or a warning.
The doors opened with a hiss, and red light poured in through the fog like liquid fire. The others stepped out first, one by one, disappearing into the glow.
Theo started forward, not looking back. But halfway down the aisle, he paused and said without turning—
"Stay close, Ari. The Market doesn't wait for the slow."
Then he vanished into the red mist.
My pulse thudded in my throat. I rose slowly, gripping the seat for balance. The air outside smelled like smoke and iron.
As I stepped off the bus, the ground beneath my feet shifted, warm and strange like standing on something alive.
That's when I realized it wasn't the road that moved.
It was the world itself.
The air hit me first.
Heavy. Metallic. Sweet in the most unsettling way.
It clung to my tongue and lungs like the aftertaste of something that had been alive too long.
I stepped out of the bus and froze.
The ground beneath my boots shimmered faintly… dark red and slick, as if painted over with diluted blood. Beyond that, everything about this world is chaos.
Stalls lined the crooked street, each glowing with its own sick light. Some flickered in gold, others in blue or crimson. The sellers… if that's what they were stood behind the tables, motionless, their eyes sharp and too bright. Their products… weren't normal.
Hearts pulsed in glass jars.
Memories hung like mist in sealed vials.
And somewhere, something that sounded like laughter rippled through the air, thin and distorted.
I felt my stomach twist. "What is this place?"
Theo didn't answer immediately. He adjusted his gloves, scanning the crowd like a man walking through a nightmare he'd already memorized.
"This," he said at last, "is where the living trade their worth and the dead buy their second chance."
I turned to him, heartbeat quickening. "That doesn't make any sense."
He gave a faint, humorless smile. "It's not supposed to. Not here."
A bell rang from somewhere deep within the maze of stalls, and everyone around us reacted instantly. Some ran, others hid, others just smiled and opened their palms, revealing coins that pulsed faintly like veins under skin.
Theo's eyes flicked toward me, sharp again. "Rule one, Ari… don't talk to the vendors first. They smell desperation."
I swallowed. "And rule two?"
"Don't bleed."
I didn't get the chance to ask why.
A figure stumbled from one of the alleys, screaming. His arm was missing, replaced by something, something mechanical that twitched and sparked like it was learning to move. A woman laughed from a nearby stall, tossing him a glowing coin that sank into his skin.
The man stopped screaming.
Then he smiled.
I stepped back instinctively, colliding with Theo's chest. He didn't move.
"They always test the newcomers," he murmured near my ear. "To see what they'll trade."
My pulse was pounding too fast, the strange air scraping against my throat. I wanted to ask what the test was, what I was supposed to do… but the words wouldn't come.
Theo finally turned to face me, his expression darkening. "You died heartbroken, didn't you?"
I froze. "How did you—"
He cut me off quietly. "Everyone remembers the moment they left the world. That's your anchor. Lose it, and the system eats you alive."
The way he said it was too calm, too precise… it made me realize something.
He'd been here before.
Before I could press, the ground trembled beneath us. The bell rang again, louder this time, echoing through the Market like a heartbeat. The air shimmered, and suddenly, words appeared in front of my eyes floating, glowing red:
"First Task: Survive the Trade.
Timer: 00:10:00"
My breath caught. "What does that mean?"
Theo's hand brushed mine briefly, firm but fleeting. "It means," he said, eyes locked on mine, "the game just started."
And then, like smoke pulled by wind, he was gone.
The crowd began to scatter when the timer appeared.
Ten minutes. That's all we had.
Some people ran toward the stalls. Others dropped to their knees, whispering prayers no one could hear. I just stood there paralyzed—watching as reality bent itself into something cruel.
The red mist thickened, and the voices rose.
"Come, darling," a woman's tone cooed from the left. Her stall shimmered with faint pink light, hearts floating in jars. "Trade what you can't carry anymore."