Chapter 1
The old door slammed open, hitting the wall with a dull bang. Elise stood in the doorway, eyes blazing with anger but I saw the fear underneath clearly enough.
"Ethan, don't do this!" she snapped, her small fists clenched tightly at her sides. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her real feelings.
I swallowed, keeping my gaze locked firmly on my boots as I tightened the laces. I hated seeing her like this, frightened, desperate but what choice did I have? One thing I'd learned the hard way was that you never turned down work. Especially not now.
Even as a D-rank hunter, scraping by on whatever scraps the Guilds threw my way, the pay was still leagues better than working some mundane job.
I pulled harder, laces biting into my fingers as I forced the knot tight. "Believe me, El, if I had any choice, I wouldn't take this job." My voice came out quieter than I'd intended. I didn't dare look up, afraid she'd see just how scared I really was.
"Money doesn't matter!" Elise stepped forward, voice cracking. "We can get by! Please, Ethan."
Before I could answer, she rushed forward, burying her face against my shoulder. Her hair brushed against my neck, her quiet sobs shaking against me. The ache in my chest grew unbearable, sharper than any wound I'd ever taken in the rifts.
Slowly, gently, I pushed her away, brushing the tangled strands of hair from her tear-streaked face. Her wide eyes searched mine, desperate for something, anything, to convince me to stay.
But I couldn't.
"One day you'll understand," I murmured softly. "I'm doing this for us. This job is the best chance we've had in months. We need this."
"We don't need anything! I don't need to go to school!" Elise half-shouted, voice raw. "I can get a job too, I can help!"
I sighed, frustration burning in my chest as I stood up, gesturing around our cramped apartment. Peeling wallpaper, flickering bulbs and the constant stench of mildew.
"This is exactly why you're going to school," I snapped, harsher than I meant. The exhaustion was finally catching up to me, fraying my patience. "I promised Mom I'd take care of you, and I'm not breaking that promise. This job, it's our chance to get out of this hole. You deserve better than this, Elise."
She stared back, jaw tight, eyes fierce but watering.
I stepped forward, forcing a smile as I ruffled her hair. She swiped at my hand with a frustrated huff, but even a D-ranker like me had reflexes faster than an ordinary twelve-year-old. She missed, and I pulled back, the corners of my lips quirking upward despite myself.
She pouted, the defiance melting away into a shaky, reluctant smile. For a moment, the tension between us eased.
"It's okay, El," I said gently. "You know I love you. I'm doing this for both of us. I want your first day of high school to be somewhere decent, somewhere you'll have real opportunities, not stuck here."
She wiped at a stray tear, cheeks flushed as she finally nodded. "I love you too, you big dummy."
I reached for my battered coat hanging by the door, pulling it over my shoulders and made my way to the exit.
Hand resting on the doorknob, I glanced back once more. Elise stood there quietly, eyes too old for her age, face round and scrunched up like she was desperately trying not to cry.
I gave her a faint smile and winked.
"It's just another Wednesday."
Then I stepped out into the cold morning, pulling the door shut behind me.
The morning air bit sharply into my skin as I stepped onto the busy street. Cars and pedestrians flooded the city, a chaotic mess I barely registered anymore. Neon billboards flashed overhead, promoting guild raids and hunts like they were everyday tourist attractions. Maybe they were, now.
I shoved my hands deep into my jacket pockets, pulling out my battered headphones. The moment the music filled my ears, the noise and chaos vanished. I walked on autopilot, barely conscious of the short trip to the train station.
One bitter and lukewarm instant coffee later and I was there.
The rift loomed on the horizon. A deep crimson scar splitting reality itself. Soldiers surrounded the perimeter, their guns reflecting the morning sunlight. Even from this distance, the air around the rift shimmered, distorted, as though reality itself was fraying at the edges.
An B-rank rift.
I paused, staring silently at the tear. People like me didn't walk away from B-rank rifts. But I didn't have the luxury of turning back.
A soldier stepped forward, hand raised firmly. "Halt."
Without a word, I pulled my Hunter's License from my jacket and flashed it at him. His eyes flicked over it quickly, and his expression softened with something that might've been pity. He stepped aside.
"Good luck," he muttered quietly.
I nodded once, forcing my feet forward. Luck wouldn't be enough.
Twenty hunters stood gathered near the rift, armored from head to toe. Their enchanted vests and exosuits gleamed in the pale dawn, weapons hanging confidently at their sides. I felt hopelessly out of place in my worn jeans, battered jacket, and secondhand boots.
At the front stood John. A massive greatsword hung from his back and a towering shield strapped securely to his left arm. His eyes caught mine, and he motioned me over with a casual wave.
I quickly pulled my headphones down, shoving them into my pocket, and approached.
"Alright, everyone's here," John's voice boomed clearly across the group. Hunters immediately moved closer, forming a tight semicircle. "For those who don't know me, I'm John, A-rank tank. I'll be leading this raid."
Nobody spoke. They knew exactly who he was.
John continued, his voice steady and calm. "As you know, this rift started at D-rank, but it's grown unstable. Alpha Team is already inside, clearing the rift. We're going in after to gather ores and eliminate stragglers."
He gave a few quick instructions, breaking us into teams. Then he turned, looking down at me with a hint of concern in his eyes.
"Ethan," he said quietly, nodding a greeting.
"Morning, John," I replied, forcing my voice to stay steady.
John hesitated, then leaned in, lowering his voice. "Look, kid, I'm gonna be straight with you. I pulled strings to get you here. You needed the money, and I owed your old man that much."
He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking toward the rift. "But this job? It's beyond your pay grade. You're carrying gear and ores. Nothing else. Stay out of trouble, stay alive. Got it?"
I nodded once, firmly. "Understood. I won't let you down."
John studied me, a small smile playing on his lips. Then he clapped me firmly on the shoulder, lightly for him, painfully heavy for me.
"Mia, bring the contract," he called out.
A short, sharp-eyed woman approached swiftly, shoving a stack of papers into my hands. I glanced quickly through them, already familiar with most the terms:
• Follow all Feathers Guild orders without question.
• Flat fee of $75,000.
• Death compensation: $250,000 to next of kin.
I signed without hesitation. The money didn't matter as much as the last clause. Elise would be safe, at least financially, if anything happened.
"All set?" Mia asked brusquely.
I handed the papers back, nodding grimly. "All set."
John moved toward the rift, gazing deeply into its shifting, unnatural depths, as if listening to something we couldn't hear.
"Alright," he called, turning back to the group. "Stay sharp, stick together, and above all—do not panic."
"Yes, sir," we replied in unison.
John nodded once, turned, and stepped calmly through the tear. The shimmering red swallowed him whole.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I drew in a slow, steady breath, trying to keep calm. "Just another Wednesday," I whispered.
A soft vibration pulled me from my thoughts. My phone buzzed gently, a final message blinking across the screen:
Elise: Come home safe dummy.
My throat tightened painfully, a small smile tugging at my lips as I typed my reply:
Me: Always do. See you soon.
Pocketing my phone, I stared one last time into the shifting red void ahead. No turning back now.
Then I stepped forward into darkness, and the rift swallowed me whole.
Chapter 2
A split second of darkness and then my boots landed firmly on solid ground.
I opened my eyes, scanning the cavern around us. Cold, damp stone walls glistened beneath the faint torchlight left behind by Alpha Team. The air hung thick, stale with rot and moisture. Ahead, a wide tunnel twisted deeper into darkness, illuminated only by dying embers. Shadows flickered ominously, dancing like living things along the jagged walls.
Something wet landed on my cheek, jolting me from my thoughts. I glanced upward. Jagged stones loomed overhead, poised like stone teeth ready to close around us.
"Alright, you know the drill," John's voice rumbled, echoing sharply through the cavern. "Darren, Till—take point. Don't let a single one of these undead bastards through."
Two large men stepped forward, heavily armored and carrying shields nearly as tall as themselves. Clearly, they were the muscle. Clearly, they belonged here. I clenched my jaw, shaking off the familiar surge of inadequacy.
Then, my eyes caught a familiar figure standing by the supply packs stacked against the cavern wall.
Alex.
A knot of tension loosened in my chest. I approached him with a relieved grin.
"Didn't realize you were on this one," I said, extending my hand.
Alex turned, blinking once before a broad smile split his face. "G'day, Ethan! Been a long while, hasn't it? How you holding up?"
We shook hands firmly, his grip still painfully strong. I hid a wince, forcing a casual shrug. "Been alright," I lied. "You just up and vanished, ya bastard."
He chuckled, releasing my hand. "Life happens, man. Got a kid now. Not exactly eager to spend every day dodging claws and skills anymore, if you get me."
A kid. I froze, a cold dread stabbing into my chest.
His wife, the mother of that kid, was my ex.
I forced a neutral expression, swallowing back the sudden dryness in my throat. "Congrats," I managed, my voice carefully even.
He studied my face, seeing right through the act. "Come on, Ethan. It's been years." He punched my shoulder lightly, smiling faintly.
I rolled my eyes, exhaling sharply. "Yeah, yeah. What dragged you back to the hunter grind, then?"
His smile faded slightly, eyes darkening. "Money. What else?"
I nodded slowly, my gaze dropping to the packs at our feet. "This what we're hauling?"
Alex hefted one onto his shoulder with a grunt, straps creaking under the weight. "Yup. Another porter's here, too. Shouldn't be too rough."
Footsteps sounded behind us as someone approached right on queue. "Hey guys," a gruff voice broke in. "Here to help carry shit."
Alex and I exchanged a quick glance, amusement tugging at the corners of our lips.
"Good stuff," I replied, tightening my own pack. "I'm Ethan." I jerked my chin toward Alex. "And this funny-looking guy's Alex."
The newcomer snorted a laugh, securing a heavy pack on his back. He rolled his shoulders once, stretching out muscles that looked far stronger than mine. "Bert."
Before any of us could continue, John's commanding voice cut across the cavern once more.
"Enough chatter. We're moving out. Stay alert."
I adjusted the heavy pack on my back, nerves settling coldly in my gut as we stepped forward.
The darkness ahead felt hungry, oppressive. And I had the sinking feeling it wasn't just ores we'd be finding down there.
Hours passed, blending together into a monotonous blur. The tunnel twisted endlessly ahead, winding deeper into the earth like the guts of some massive beast. The further we descended, the worse things got, shattered weapons lay discarded, bones scattered across the cold stone floor, and remnants of armor and flesh left rotting. The heavy stench of blood and decay was overwhelming, sticking to my throat and clinging to my clothes.
The undead here… they were different.
Normal rift undead still resembled monsters—goblins, shadow wolves, steel-jaw monkeys—but not these. These looked human, disturbingly so. Empty eyes stared from rotting, gaunt faces. Torn flesh clung loosely to bones, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. It felt wrong, like looking at something you weren't meant to see.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, forcing myself forward. Alex, Bert, and I stayed at the rear of the group, silently keeping pace.
Finally, we stepped into a wider cavern, and John raised one armored hand sharply.
"Stop," he called, voice echoing softly through the chamber. "This looks like the sub-boss room."
Relief surged through me instantly. I dropped the heavy pack onto the cold stone floor, nearly collapsing beside it as the weight left my shoulders. Sweat streamed down my face, stinging my eyes. My legs shook uncontrollably, muscles burning with exhaustion.
Alex flopped down next to me, grinning despite his own fatigue. "You really need to put some muscle on that lanky frame, Ethan."
I glared at him weakly. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, meathead."
Bert watched us, a quiet grin spreading across his face. "You two known each other long?"
"A few years now," I managed, breathing heavily. "We did the Hunter's Course together."
Bert chuckled softly, eyes distant. "Ah, I remember mine. Good times."
I snorted bitterly. "It wasn't good times."
The Hunter's Course sucked—especially when your Awakening gave you a skill that only worked when you were halfway to dead already.
Alex smirked at Bert, curiosity in his gaze. "Say, Bert. How old are you? Can't quite place it—thirty?"
Bert laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Sure. Let's just say I'm thirty."
I scoffed, studying his grizzled features. "Don't be stupid, Alex. He's at least fifty."
Silence.
Bert's laughter stopped abruptly, and he turned slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto me with sudden intensity.
"You realize I'm B-rank, right?" His tone was far too casual.
A nervous laugh slipped from my throat. I glanced at Alex for support, but the bastard was smirking, enjoying every second.
"I—uh…"
Bert burst into laughter again, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Relax, kid. You should've seen your face."
Alex stood up, slapping my shoulder as he went. "Don't get too spooked, Ethan. You do realize we're in an A-rank rift, right?"
I muttered under my breath, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Bert offered me a calloused hand, easily hauling me upright. "You're a tall one, though, aren't ya."
"Mom always said I had to eat my veggies," I replied dryly.
He snorted. "Looks like you skipped the meat, though. Nothing but skin and bones."
"Ouch," I winced, searching for a comeback. My mind blanked. Bert might've been shorter, but he looked like he could snap me in half without even trying.
So I fell back on my favorite defense. "Whatever. You're ugly."
He chuckled again, shaking his head.
Alex snorted. "Sorry, Ethan. You're clearly the only ugly one here."
I shot him a betrayed glare. "Whose side are you on?"
"Come on," Alex grinned, unfazed. "Let's get these packs sorted."
I sighed, reaching reluctantly toward my bag.
Then—
Click.
I froze.
The sound was sharp, unnatural, echoing clearly down the tunnel.
"What was that?" I whispered sharply.
Bert frowned, glancing toward the dark passage. "What?"
I closed my eyes, focusing intently. The noise came again, louder now.
Click. Click. Click.
"That," I said urgently. "Tell me you hear it."
Before either of them could answer, a scream cut through the cavern.
My head snapped around in time to see one of the lookouts collapse to the ground, blood spilling beneath him. The clicking intensified, almost deafening, as something emerged from the shadows.
A twisted, human-like figure crawled into the torchlight, moving too fast, limbs bent grotesquely. Empty eye sockets locked onto me, mouth stretched wide in a silent, hungry scream.
And then it lunged straight toward me.
Chapter 3
The undead barreled straight at me.
Me, the weakest hunter here. Why? I had no clue, and definitely no time to figure it out.
Its clicking filled the cavern, sharp and relentless, echoing painfully in my ears. My body locked up, heart slamming painfully against my ribs.
Shouts erupted around me, weapons drawn, hunters scrambling into action but none of it mattered.
It lunged.
I froze.
Too fast. Too wrong. I couldn't track it, let alone defend myself.
A single stupid thought flickered through my mind:
At least El will get a big payout.
The thing's jaws unhinged grotesquely, aiming straight for my throat.
Then something wrapped around me. A strange, twisting sensation pulled me from reality. For an instant, I was nowhere at all. Then, just as abruptly, I was standing on the other side of the cavern, gasping for air, heart hammering wildly.
A blur of metal replaced me.
John.
His massive shield slammed into the undead's torso with a bone-crunching impact, throwing the creature violently across the chamber. It hit the stone floor hard, skidding backward, limbs flailing wildly before it twisted itself upright, snapping back to all fours.
Now, twenty fully armed hunters stood between it and me. My breath came in ragged gulps, body trembling as I finally got a good look at it.
It looked human. Horribly, impossibly human.
Its limbs were bent at unnatural angles, movements jerky and wrong. Its face was stretched into something nightmarish, jaws too wide, eyes hollow pits of darkness. My pulse surged, blood roaring in my ears as I struggled not to lose it entirely.
The undead let out a guttural shriek, then launched itself at John, blurring across the cavern floor.
John didn't even flinch.
His stance tightened, eyes narrowing as a small, grim smile flickered across his lips. The creature smashed into his shield, pushing him back several inches. My heart dropped into my stomach. John, an S-ranker, a literal mountain, shouldn't move an inch—yet he'd been forced back.
But John didn't look worried.
In a single, perfect motion, he drew his blade and cleaved downward. The undead jerked away instinctively, too late. Steel bit deep into rotten flesh, slicing cleanly through bone. An arm hit the cavern floor with a sickening squelch.
The undead stumbled back, clicking frantically, its severed limb twitching uselessly.
John didn't give it a chance.
He slammed his sword hard against his shield, metal ringing sharply through the cavern, then charged. His body blurred, moving impossibly fast.
Steel Charge.
I'd seen him use it before, but never this close. He struck the undead like a missile, driving his sword straight through its chest. The creature shuddered violently, jaws clicking helplessly. Its twitching limbs fell still, and John raised his shield, slamming its heavy edge down onto the undead's skull, crushing it instantly.
The clicking finally stopped.
But then it started again, louder, echoing from deeper in the darkness ahead.
John turned sharply to us, face grim. "Dammit. Everyone, get ready!"
I sucked in a breath, palms slick with sweat, fear coiling tight in my gut. If one undead had almost killed me, what about the rest? I was completely out of my depth, drowning in fear.
I reached inside my jacket, fingers gripping the worn handle of my dagger. The blade was chipped, the leather worn, but it felt solid in my hand, molded perfectly to my grip.
It was the only thing I had left to rely on now.
A gift from my father on my eighth birthday. Five years ago now. With the weapon firm in my grasp, my nerves steadied, at least a little.
Then the first undead charged into the cavern, followed quickly by more. Dozens of clicking, writhing nightmares poured in, crawling and lunging toward us.
John, Darren, and Till moved instantly, forming a solid wall at the mouth of the tunnel. Shields raised, weapons drawn. They were unflinching mountains facing the rising tide of horrors. The other hunters surged forward in a tight formation, deploying skills, screaming orders, fighting desperately against the sudden chaos.
I was lost.
What could I possibly do here? Every single person around me, hunter or undead, vastly outclassed me. I stumbled back, gripping my dagger until my knuckles turned white. My back slammed into cold, slick stone.
A scream pierced through the battle, high and sharp.
My head snapped toward the sound, dagger raised on instinct.
A young woman collapsed to the cavern floor. Her short sword clattered uselessly away, blood pooling from deep wounds along her arm. Her wide eyes met mine for an instant, terrified and pleading, before glazing over in agony.
An undead stood above her, its twisted jaw buried deep in her neck.
My stomach lurched violently, bile rising to choke my throat. The creature slowly raised its head, flesh torn and dripping, human-like eyes turning slowly locking directly onto me.
My hand trembled violently. I gritted my teeth, gripping my dagger tighter, trying desperately not to vomit.
The undead pulled back from the woman's ruined body, stretching its twisted limbs, then dropping slowly onto all fours. It cocked its head, watching me curiously, mockingly.
Then it lunged, faster than my eyes could follow.
My muscles seized. No John this time, no shield to hide behind. Nothing but me, my dagger, and the certainty that I was about to die.
The creature crashed into me, slamming me brutally against the cavern wall. Pain exploded through my skull my vision blurring sharply. Its jaws clamped down, catching only steel as my dagger lodged between its teeth in a last ditch attempt. Blood and saliva dripped hotly onto my skin. Its rancid breath filled my nose, choking me.
Before I could react, its grotesque arm lashed out, smashing into my shoulder and sending me sprawling across the stone floor. Agony surged through me, blinding, overwhelming, until my skill ignited.
Adrenaline. Energy. A desperate, useless surge of resistance too little, too late.
I rolled upright, dagger clenched desperately in my shaking hand. The undead lunged again, jaws unhinging impossibly wide.
I raised my free arm, shielding my throat, and slashed upward blindly.
Somehow my blade sank deep into its shoulder.
It didn't even slow down.
Its teeth sank into my forearm instead, tearing flesh and scraping bone. Hot, searing pain engulfed me. My skill burned through my veins, trying to stem the damage, pushing me beyond limits I'd never tested. But it wasn't enough.
Desperation flooded me. I ripped my dagger free, stabbing wildly into its side, its chest, anything I could reach.
The creature released my arm and grabbed my body with both twisted hands, smashing me into the ground.
Again.
And again.
My vision swam, darkness creeping into the edges. The dagger slipped from numb fingers, clattering uselessly across stone. I heard the wet thud as my skull hit stone again. Blood ran freely from my head, my skin slick and sticky.
My skill burned hotter, desperately clawing at consciousness, forcing me to hold on but I was slipping.
The undead finally stopped, standing over my broken body. Its distorted jaw opened wide, teeth poised above my throat.
Thoughts of El flashed through my mind, painfully clear. If I died now, she'd be alone. Truly alone.
I couldn't let that happen.
No matter what.
I dug deeper into myself, forcing my pathetic skill past every boundary, every limitation. Something tore through me, primal and raw, no speed, no strength, just desperate, furious determination.
I gasped for air. Rotten breath washed over my face, thick and choking. Blood dripped from its open mouth onto my skin. Teeth grazed my throat.
My hand searched wildly along the stone, clawing, reaching. Where—where the hell was it?
The undead clicked once, jaw tightening. I flailed desperately, legs kicking, fingers digging frantically through blood and gravel.
Its teeth pressed harder, puncturing skin.
Then my fingers brushed cold steel.
My dagger.
I snatched it up, grip tightening fiercely. In a surge of wild desperation, I jerked my arm upward, blade flashing in the dim cavern light.
Steel met flesh, sinking deep into the creature's neck.
It shuddered, convulsing violently. Warm blood spattered my face, my hands. I stabbed again and again, screaming hoarsely with each strike.
The undead let out a choked, gurgling cry. It clawed weakly at my chest, limbs spasming, movements slowing.
Then it collapsed, going completely still.
I lay there, gasping, trembling, covered in blood and barely alive.
But alive, nonetheless.
For now.