Arthur froze in horror as he faced the grotesque beast before him. Its segmented mouth opened with a sickening crack, its whip-like tongue snapping in the air as it hungrily sought its prey. The only thought in his mind was run.

Without hesitation, he turned and bolted. His legs carried him back to the rooftop’s edge, and without thinking, he leaped off for a second time.

“It’s fine. Ghosts can fly... right?” Arthur muttered to himself, his voice trembling. Panic surged as the wind rushed past him. “Why am I not flying?”

He hit the ground with a heavy thud, his body sprawled on the pavement. The pain he expected never came, but neither did the surreal sensation of phasing through the ground as he had before.

Arthur scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off as dread took hold. “Don’t tell me... all those ghostly powers are useless during this hellish night.”

The Fallen above sniffed the air, its head snapping toward him with an almost mechanical twitch. With a guttural growl, it leaped off the building, its heavy, malformed limbs crashing onto the pavement behind him.

Arthur didn’t wait for it to strike. He ran. His heart, though it no longer beat, felt like it might explode as he sprinted down the darkened street. He couldn’t die. Not now. Not with that angel—that monster—in possession of his body.

The Fallen followed, its movements clunky and erratic. It barreled forward like a predator drunk on its own hunger, crashing into walls and buildings as it tried to follow Arthur’s frantic turns.

Arthur risked a glance over his shoulder and barked a nervous laugh. “Blind and stupid. That thing’s got nothing on me.”

But even as he joked, his chest tightened. He wasn’t sure where he was going—only that he had to keep moving. The blood rain soaked the ground, turning the streets into crimson mirrors that reflected the monstrous sky above.

“Hey, dummy! Over here!” a sharp voice cut through the chaos.

Arthur’s head snapped toward the sound. A girl stood at the end of an alley, her short purple hair gleaming under the unnatural light of the blood moon. Her vivid orange eyes locked on him, and she waved him over with urgency.

“Eliza?” Arthur shouted, disbelief mingling with hope as he dashed toward her, the Fallen roaring behind him.

Eliza smirked, turning on her heel as she began to run. “You’re lucky I found you, idiot. Now move your ass!”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice. He followed her, dodging debris and weaving through the chaotic streets as the Fallen thundered after them. Its blind rage and clumsy movements were the only things keeping them alive.

“I’ll explain everything later,” Eliza shouted over her shoulder, her voice steady despite the chaos. “Just keep up, Arthur!”

For the first time since he had leaped off that rooftop, Arthur felt a flicker of hope. He wasn’t alone—not entirely.

“Down here! It can’t follow us!” Eliza shouted, her voice echoing through the night like a lifeline. She pointed to an open sewer grate, barely visible through the blood-soaked rain.

Arthur hesitated for only a second before following her lead. Eliza vaulted into the darkness below with practiced ease, vanishing into the shadows. Arthur stumbled toward the grate, his pulse racing—not that it mattered anymore. He barely had time to brace himself as the Fallen’s guttural roar thundered behind him.

The moment his feet hit the ladder, a wet, slithering snap filled the air. The creature’s whip-like tongue lashed toward him, slicing through the rain like a blade. Arthur flinched as it slammed into the ground inches from his head, the impact shaking the grate and sending shards of concrete scattering.

“Move!” Eliza’s voice rang out from below.

Arthur scrambled downward, his hands slipping on the cold, slimy rungs of the ladder. The Fallen snarled above, its segmented mouth snapping open with a sickening crack. Its tongue lashed again, striking the edge of the grate with terrifying force. Sparks erupted as metal bent under the impact, the sewer trembling around him.

Arthur’s foot slipped, and he nearly lost his grip. “Damn it!” he hissed, clutching the ladder as his breath came in shallow gasps. The creature’s tongue shot past him again, narrowly missing his shoulder and slamming into the sewer wall. Chunks of brick rained down, pelting him as he climbed lower.

“Eliza!” he yelled. “It’s still trying to—”

“I know!” she shouted from the ground. “Just get down here, quick!”

Arthur dropped the last few feet, his boots splashing into ankle-deep, murky water. He barely had time to catch his breath before the Fallen roared again, its tongue thrashing wildly at the opening above. The slick appendage smashed against the metal ladder, each strike bending them further inward. The sewer shook with every blow.

The stench of the sewer hit Arthur like a wall, a rancid mix of decay and filth that made his stomach churn. He stumbled back, gagging, as Eliza grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the tunnel.

“Stay back!” she snapped. “It’s blind, but it can still smell us.”

The Fallen above growled, its frustration echoing like a storm. Its tongue lashed one final time, stabbing through the grate and slamming into the ground where Arthur had just stood. The force sent a spray of foul water into the air, drenching them both. Arthur staggered, his heart pounding as the creature’s tongue writhed mere inches from his feet.

The Fallen let out a deafening screech, its frustration palpable. It slammed its claws against the edge of the grate, sending chunks of concrete raining down, but its massive frame prevented it from squeezing into the opening. The tunnel vibrated under its rage, but the creature remained trapped above.

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Arthur leaned against the sewer wall, gasping for breath. “It… it can’t get in, right?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Eliza smirked grimly, wiping the water from her face. “Not unless it shrinks a few sizes. But don’t get comfortable—it doesn’t need to. If we don’t move fast, it’ll call for others.”

Arthur’s stomach dropped at the thought. He glanced back up at the grate, where the creature’s grotesque mouth opened and closed, emitting an eerie, guttural clicking sound as it sniffed the air. Its tongue slithered back into the darkness, coiling like a serpent preparing to strike again.

“Let’s go,” Eliza said, her tone brooking no argument. She grabbed Arthur’s wrist and tugged him further into the sewer. The dim light of the blood moon disappeared as they descended into the tunnel’s oppressive darkness, the sound of the Fallen’s enraged howls fading behind them.

As they moved deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels, the suffocating darkness closed in around them. The faint echoes of dripping water and their own footsteps seemed to stretch endlessly, amplifying the oppressive silence. Arthur couldn’t shake the feeling that the nightmare wasn’t over. No, this was just the beginning.

Eliza’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and blunt. “So, tell me—how did you die? Or, to be exact, how did you kill yourself?”

Arthur stumbled slightly at the question, caught off guard. “W-what? How did you know?”

She shot him a sidelong glance, her orange eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. “You smell like mint. All of us who tried to end it, only to have those angelic bastards steal our bodies, smell like it. A few normal ghosts are hiding down here, but you’re definitely not one of them.”

Arthur swallowed hard, glancing down at his feet as they sloshed through the murky water. “I… I jumped off the school roof,” he said quietly, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.

Eliza let out a dry, sad laugh. “That’s brutal. You would’ve scarred all those carolers for life. Then again, my method wasn’t much better.”

Arthur hesitated, then asked cautiously, “How long… I mean, how long have you been like this? I didn’t even notice you’d been replaced.”

“Two weeks,” Eliza said, her tone flat. “Not surprised you didn’t notice—no one else did. Not my parents, not my friends. Why would some random guy I barely know?”

Arthur flinched at her bluntness but pressed on. “How did you remember my name, then? I doubt even the guys who used me as a punching bag remember it.”

Eliza glanced at him, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “We did that group project together a few weeks ago, remember? All my friends felt bad I got stuck with you. Joke’s on them—you actually pulled your weight. That A brought my mediocre grade up nicely.”

Arthur gave a small, self-conscious laugh. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

They fell into a brief, uneasy silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps splashing through the filthy water. Finally, Eliza spoke again, her voice tinged with anger. “So, which of the Ten Commandments got you? Mine called themselves Devotiel, the Archangel of Worship.”

Arthur frowned. “He said his name was Veritas, the Archangel of Truth. What are the Ten Commandments, anyway?”

Eliza’s expression darkened, her fists clenching at her sides. “A bunch of angelic assholes. They go around convincing people to kill themselves so they can steal their bodies. Apparently, they even mess with people’s lives—stirring up tragedies, making things worse—just to push us over the edge. Real saints, huh?”

Arthur’s chest tightened as Veritas’s mocking grin flashed through his mind, the angel’s cruel words echoing like a curse. “Aren’t angels supposed to be kind and loving?” he asked softly, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Eliza let out a hollow laugh, the sound bouncing off the tunnel walls with a bitterness that cut deeper than the cold air. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But nope. They’re worse than devils—more depraved, more manipulative. At least devils don’t pretend to be something they’re not.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Are demons real too?”

Eliza sighed, her footsteps splashing softly through the murky water. “Not in the way you’d imagine. No horns, no fiery pits. But these ‘angels’... they’re not the traditional kind either. They come from somewhere called the Abyss. A whole other world. Lucky for us, that’s a problem for the living.” She paused, glancing back at him. “Down here, the only thing we have to worry about are the Fallen.”

Arthur shivered at the memory of the monstrous creature that had hunted him. “How many of us are there?”

Eliza held up her hand, ticking off on her fingers. “Let’s see… including you and me? Five. One other guy who had his body stolen by an angel—he’s a bit of a nutcase, but most of what he says checks out. Then there are two lost souls—both girls. You’ll know one of them.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks, staring at her in shock. His heart—or whatever ghostly imitation of it he had—sank. “Who?”

Eliza didn’t answer directly, her expression softening just slightly. “You’ll see soon enough,” she said, leading him further into the dark.

They eventually reached a rusted metal door tucked away in the sewer’s labyrinthine depths. Eliza pushed it open, revealing a surprisingly cozy hideout hidden in the belly of the city.

“Hey, guys!” she called out. “I brought us a new friend. He’s just like me and the nutcase.”

Arthur stepped inside, his eyes widening. The room was small but welcoming, a strange juxtaposition against the grim reality outside. Bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with manga and novels. A battered TV sat on a rickety stand, hooked up to a collection of gaming consoles that looked like they had been salvaged from the living world. The faint hum of electricity filled the air, though Arthur couldn’t fathom where the power came from. Small bedrooms branched off from the main area—personal spaces for people who didn’t need to sleep but still craved a semblance of normalcy.

The first person Arthur noticed was a man leaning against the wall, engrossed in a webnovel on his phone titled Cycle of Fate. He looked to be in his late forties, his violet eyes shadowed by deep, tired bags. His black hair was streaked with white at the tips, and a neatly trimmed stubble lined his jaw. He wore a black suit and red tie, an outfit that gave him an air of someone who had once been meticulous and professional. Now, he carried the same faint minty scent that clung to Eliza—a mark of the stolen.

The second figure was a young woman lounging on a couch, a manga open in her lap. She looked to be in her late twenties, with orange hair tied into a loose ponytail. Small freckles dotted her cheeks, and square glasses perched on her nose, framing hazel eyes that flicked back and forth across the pages. She wore a flowing orange sundress that seemed out of place in the sewer’s gloom, but the warmth of her presence softened the sharp edges of the room.

Arthur’s breath caught when his gaze landed on the last figure. His heart—or whatever semblance of it remained—ached as recognition slammed into him like a freight train.

She wore the same school uniform as him and Eliza, her brunette hair long and braided neatly over one shoulder. Her blue eyes were an ocean of conflicting emotions—sadness, longing, and a flicker of joy that ignited when they met his.

“Emelia,” Arthur whispered.

Before he could say another word, she crossed the room in a blur, throwing her arms around him. He froze for a moment, stunned, before his own arms wrapped around her. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks as he clung to her, his voice cracking as he murmured her name over and over.

Her voice was soft, trembling with emotion. “Arthur… I’ve missed you so much.”

Eliza stood off to the side, watching silently. For once, she said nothing, giving them this moment of reunion amidst the chaos of their new reality.