Morning came quietly.
Zack woke beneath the open sky, cold grass pressing against his back. For a moment, he didn't move.
He stared at the pale clouds drifting overhead, watching them pass as if they belonged to someone else's life.
He sat up slowly, joints aching, and reached for the sword resting beside him.
Excalibur.
The name surfaced without effort.
Everything else remained empty.
Zack stood, dusting himself off, and began walking.
He didn't know how long he wandered. Hours, maybe more.
Forest gave way to roads, and roads slowly turned into worn stone paths. His stomach twisted with hunger, but he ignored it, pushing forward without a destination.
Eventually, the city appeared.
Tall walls. Crowded streets. Noise.
Zack stepped inside the city like a stranger entering someone else's memory.
The smells hit first — food, smoke, oil, metal. People brushed past him without a glance. Conversations overlapped, loud and fast, none of them meant for him.
He reached into his pocket and felt something cold.
Coins.
Old ones. Gold and silver pieces etched with unfamiliar symbols.
A restaurant caught his attention. Small. Cheap-looking.
Inside, he placed the coins on the counter. The worker stared at them for a long moment, confused, before hesitantly taking one.
Moments later, Zack sat on a bench outside with a rice ball in his hand.
It was the only thing he could afford.
The first bite had no taste at all.
The second wasn't any better.
"This sucks…"
He pulled the rice ball away from his mouth and looked at it.
"I don't know what I was expecting. At least it'll keep me from starving."
Zack sighed and continued eating, bite after slow bite. His eyes drifted toward the old buildings surrounding the street.
Their worn designs held his attention for a moment—until sudden movement broke his focus.
A man with his face covered darted through the crowd, shoving people aside as if he'd committed a crime.
Zack's gaze caught on a silver ring flashing on the runner's hand, shaped like the letter S.
He frowned, then quickly shook his head. It wasn't his problem to worry about.
The crowd thinned, but Zack remained on the bench.
A strange unease settled in his chest. From a distance, he noticed a young man moving through the street, stopping people one by one, as if asking questions.
Zack didn't know what he was looking for, yet curiosity stirred.
Before long, the young man stood in front of him.
Grey hair. Piercing black eyes.
A grey scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.
There was something unsettling about him — a weight that matched the feeling creeping over Zack.
"Excuse me, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course. Let's see what you've got," Zack replied coldly.
"Did you see a man who looked suspicious?"
"Suspicious to what point?"
"He was wearing a strange ring on his hand. The cashier from the restaurant over there said you've been sitting here for a while — you must've noticed something, right?"
"Actually… yeah. A while ago I saw someone running, like he was being chased. He went that way." Zack pointed toward the left path of the district.
"Thanks, man. Sorry for the interruption."
Zack didn't respond. He stayed seated, watching the strange boy disappear into the crowd.
Eventually, he stood and decided to. continue wandering.
He passed a park filled with life — children playing, people walking, families spread out on blankets.
This part of the city felt warmer than the districts he'd crossed before. Still, he didn't stop.
He didn't know where he was going.
He just kept moving.
While Zack drifted through the city without purpose, the grey-haired boy followed one with absolute focus.
He found himself in a district he had never entered before.
The streets were empty. Trash bins lay overturned, and the buildings felt old and lifeless, their designs unfamiliar and dull.
Then he saw him.
The man who had stolen his money.
The silver ring was unmistakable.
The man noticed him and ran.
" You aren't going anywhere this time " Ray shouted.
This time, he didn't hesitate.
He chased him through the poorer districts of Emblema City until the man slipped into a narrow alley.
Ray followed and emerged before an abandoned storehouse. Without thinking, he stepped inside.
Darkness swallowed the room. Wooden crates were stacked unevenly around him.
The door slammed shut.
A voice rose from the shadows.
"So you still want your money, huh?"
Ray clenched his fists.
"You asshole. I worked hard for that money. If you don't give it back, I'll make you regret it."
Silence followed.
Then the lights went out.
Ray's heart raced. The air felt crowded. He wasn't alone.
Something hard struck the back of his head.
Pain exploded.
He collapsed to the ground, warm blood soaking beneath him.
As his vision faded, laughter echoed through the darkness — low, cruel, and close.
Then everything went black.