Kaito woke up on the floor of his small dwelling. The wood beneath him was cold and rough. He did not remember walking home. The last thing he recalled was the alleyway, the red light, and the heat in his veins. He sat up slowly, checking his hands. The black veins were gone. The skin looked normal, pale and worn from labor. But the memory of the rage remained. It sat in the back of his mind like a dormant volcano. He stood up and walked to the window. The gray light of the barrier filtered through the dirty glass. The city was quiet, but it was the quiet of a held breath.
Kaito said: "I need to know what happened."
He dressed in his work clothes, covering his arms completely. He stepped out into the corridor of the tenement building. The air smelled of stale water and boiled roots. Neighbors were already moving about, heading to the mines. Their faces were blank, devoid of emotion. Kaito descended the stairs and exited into the street. The plaza from yesterday was cordoned off. Crimson Shade Unit soldiers stood around the perimeter, blocking access. Civilians gathered at the edges, whispering in hushed tones. Kaito moved closer, keeping his head down.
A woman next to him spoke to her companion: "They said the blood did not vanish."
The companion replied: "What do you mean?"
The woman said: "When the cannon hit him, the blood turned to crystal. It fell like snow. Red snow."
Kaito froze. He looked at the ground near the platform. There were scattered shards of red crystal embedded in the stone pavement. They glowed faintly. The soldiers were sweeping them up carefully, treating them like hazardous waste. This was not normal. Human blood did not crystallize. Only the energy from the mines did. This meant the man's life force was tied directly to the kingdom's power source. The King was not just killing dissenters. He was harvesting them.
Kaito thought: "The barrier eats us literally."
He turned away from the plaza. He had a destination. The executed man lived in the Lower Slums, sector seven. Kaito had seen him before. They had never spoken, but they had exchanged nods in the bread lines. The man's name was Jiro. Kaito did not know why he felt drawn to Jiro's home. It was an instinct, a pull similar to the rage he felt yesterday. He walked through the winding streets of the lower district. The buildings here were leaning, supported by rusted metal beams. The barrier felt lower here, pressing down on the roofs.
Kaito arrived at Jiro's building. It was a crumbling structure of concrete and corrugated iron. The door to Jiro's room was locked. Kaito looked around. No one was watching. He kicked the lock gently. It was old and rusted. It gave way with a soft click. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. The room was small and empty. A mattress lay on the floor. A single cup sat on a crate. There was nothing of value here. Poverty was absolute.
Kaito said: "Where would you hide it?"
He began to search. He checked under the mattress. Nothing. He checked inside the cup. Nothing. He knelt on the floor and tapped the wooden planks. One sound was hollow. He used a knife from his belt to pry the plank up. Beneath the floorboards, there was a small cavity. Inside lay a black notebook. It was wrapped in oilcloth to protect it from dampness. Kaito picked it up. It felt heavy. He sat on the mattress and opened the cover. The pages were filled with handwritten notes. The handwriting was shaky, written in haste.
Kaito thought: "This is it. This is the truth."
He turned to the first page. The date was from three years ago. The entries detailed the movement of troops, the location of secret prisons, and the flow of energy from the people to the palace. It was evidence. It was enough to bring down the government if anyone believed it. But the first entry caught his eye. It was written in bold, dark ink. The letters were pressed hard into the paper, as if the writer was angry.
Kaito read the line aloud: "The King is not human."
A chill ran down Kaito's spine. The words seemed to vibrate on the page. He looked around the room, expecting someone to appear. The silence remained. He turned the page to read more, but the door behind him creaked. Kaito snapped the book shut and shoved it inside his jacket. He stood up slowly, turning to face the entrance. A shadow stood in the doorway. It was not a soldier. It was a girl. She wore a ragged cloak and held a knife. Her eyes were sharp, assessing the threat.
The girl asked: "Who are you?"
Kaito said: "I am a friend of Jiro."
The girl stepped into the light. She looked young, perhaps sixteen. Her hair was cut short, practical for hiding. She did not lower the knife.
The girl said: "Jiro had no friends. He had only contacts."
Kaito said: "Then I am a contact."
The girl looked at the floor where the plank was lifted. She knew he had found something. She lowered the knife slightly, but her muscles remained tense.
The girl said: "If you have the book, you are dead. They will hunt you."
Kaito said: "They are already hunting everyone."
The girl stepped closer. She looked at his jacket, where the shape of the book was visible.
The girl said: "My name is Yuna. Jiro told me to protect that book if he died."
Kaito said: "He is dead. And I have it."
Yuna sheathed the knife. She walked to the window and peeked through the cracks in the shutters.
Yuna said: "The Crimson Shade is sweeping the sector. They know someone came here."
Kaito asked: "How do they know?"
Yuna said: "They always know. There are spies in the walls."
Kaito felt the heat rise in his veins again. The red light flickered at the edge of his vision. He gripped the book tighter. The rage was not fear. It was power. It told him he could fight. It told him he could break the walls.
Kaito said: "Let them come."
Yuna turned to look at him. She saw the change in his eyes. The pupils were slit-like, glowing faintly silver.
Yuna asked: "What are you?"
Kaito did not answer. He could not explain what he was becoming. He only knew that the book in his jacket was burning hot against his chest. The first line of the diary echoed in his mind. The King is not human. If the King was not human, then the barrier was not a shield. It was a containment unit. And Kaito was the key that could unlock it.
Yuna said: "We have to move. Now."
Kaito nodded. He followed her to the back of the room. She pushed aside a heavy wardrobe, revealing a hole in the wall. It led to the sewer tunnels beneath the city. The smell was foul, but it was safe. Kaito paused at the edge of the hole. He looked back at the empty room. This was the last moment of his old life. Once he entered the tunnels, he was a fugitive. He was a target. He was something else.
Kaito thought: "There is no going back."
He stepped into the hole. Yuna followed him, pulling the wardrobe back into place. The darkness of the tunnels swallowed them. Above them, the boots of the Crimson Shade Unit marched down the street. They kicked open the door to the room seconds later. They found it empty. But on the floor, a single shard of red crystal glowed where Kaito had stood. It pulsed once, then faded. The hunt had begun.