Night hit like a threat.
The heat bled out of the air, replaced by a sharp, bone-deep chill. The suns were gone, and what little light remained came from scattered fires and flickering lamps.
Ejay huddled behind a half-collapsed wall, chewing on the corner of a stale granola bar he'd found in his bag. It tasted like cardboard and regret.
"Congratulations, hero," he muttered to himself. "Saved a girl, broke fate, got isekai'd into the worst slum in the multiverse. Real glow-up."
He stared at the dark city beyond the ruins. The air vibrated with distant shouts, metal clanging, and something that didn't sound human.
He didn't want to think about that last one.
He pulled the ring out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. The metal was cold now — just a ring, nothing more. But the power inside him hadn't gone away.
When he focused, he could feel it — the space around him flexing, a soft outline in his mind. Three meters. That was his world right now. A three-meter bubble. Anything beyond it was chaos.
He sighed. "Guess we start small."
He picked a loose chunk of rubble and tossed it into the air. For a split second, he imagined himself where it would land — willed the thought to be real.
And the world obeyed.
There was no sound, no flash, no build-up. One heartbeat he was standing still, the next he was where the rock hit.
Teleportation. Clean. Instant. Terrifying.
Ejay stumbled, disoriented. "Jesus— okay, that works. Definitely works."
He tried again, shorter this time. Step, focus, blink — new position. Every jump sent a cold rush through his body, like static crawling under his skin.
But it was exhausting. After a handful of jumps, his vision blurred. The spatial sense dimmed like a dying light bulb.
He dropped to one knee, clutching his head. "Yeah… okay. Power limit. Got it."
He was still catching his breath when he felt it.
A vibration — faint, irregular, like footsteps dragging through sand. It came from the street beyond the wall.
He froze, every nerve screaming.
Someone — or something — was coming.
He crouched low, peering through a gap in the bricks. A shape moved through the gloom, lurching and uneven. At first, it looked human. Then it turned its head.
And Ejay saw its face.
The skin was gray and stretched thin, the eyes sunken deep and empty. Its jaw hung slightly open, twitching. The body moved like it was being puppeted by broken strings.
Across its chest, a shattered symbol glowed faintly — the mark of a Soul Core.
Ejay's stomach dropped. "No way…"
He'd read about these things. Failed Sleepers. People who hadn't survived their First Nightmare. Their souls had cracked, leaving behind shells of madness and hunger.
And now one was walking straight toward him.
"Perfect," he whispered. "Can't even get a tutorial before the first boss fight."
The creature twitched, head jerking toward the sound of his voice.
Its mouth opened — too wide, too fast — and it screamed.
The sound tore through the night, raw and wrong, vibrating in his teeth. Ejay flinched back as it charged, limbs flailing, claws scraping against concrete.
He teleported without thinking. One blink, and he was five meters away, behind it. He spun, adrenaline surging.
The thing skidded to a halt, confused. Its head snapped back toward him, body twisting with unnatural speed.
Ejay's heart hammered. "Come on, come on…"
He grabbed a rusted metal rod off the ground and raised it like a bat. The creature lunged.
He swung. The impact rang through his arms, bone against metal. The creature stumbled, half its jaw hanging loose. It didn't even slow down.
"Okay! That's not working!"
He jumped again — another blink — appearing behind a pile of rubble. His chest burned. The world tilted. His vision blurred at the edges.
The failed Sleeper clawed through the wall, shrieking.
Ejay stumbled backward, gripping the rod tighter. "You're supposed to stay dead! That's literally your job!"
It lunged again. He dodged left — barely — and smashed the rod down on its spine. The metal bent. The creature shrieked, spinning with impossible speed.
Its hand caught his arm — cold, sharp, inhuman. Pain flared white-hot. Ejay screamed and teleported on instinct.
He reappeared several meters away, collapsing onto the ground. His left sleeve was shredded. Blood dripped down his arm.
The thing turned toward him, crawling now, faster on all fours.
His pulse thundered. Every instinct screamed to run. But something in him — that same reckless spark that had made him save the girl — refused.
He clenched his teeth, forcing his trembling hand around the metal rod.
"Fine," he growled. "Round two."
He focused. Not on escaping — on space. The air between him and the creature. The three meters that were his.
He felt it twist.
When the monster lunged, he didn't dodge. He swung through the air — and space itself bent.
The rod connected mid-blink, the world snapping back into place with a sound like tearing fabric. The impact sent a shockwave through his arm and shattered the creature's skull like glass.
It dropped. Twitching. Then still.
Ejay fell to his knees, panting, vision spinning. The world felt distant — his heartbeat echoing too loud in his ears.
He stared at the corpse, shaking. "You've gotta be kidding me…"
His whole body trembled. His lungs burned. He wanted to throw up.
But he was alive.
"Great," he rasped. "First day in hell, already committed murder. A+ start."
He sat there until the adrenaline faded, staring at the cracked pavement and the dead thing that used to be human.
Then, slowly, he laughed. It wasn't joy — it was hysteria wrapped in exhaustion.
"Guess I'm really here," he said quietly. "Guess this is real."
He looked down at his bloodstained hands and clenched them into fists. "Fine. If this world wants a fighter…"
He pushed himself up, eyes cold.
"I ain't gonna be a pussy"