Jennifer tightened the straps on her light leather armor, running her fingers over the iron reinforcements covering the vital areas of her chest, groin, neck, and shoulders. The gauntlets—dark leather with iron plating on the knuckles—fit snugly, their weight almost negligible, yet reassuring.

Satisfied, she turned to leave the armory room. As the door creaked open, Marcy’s voice called from outside.

“Well, don’t you look the part,” Marcy said, her arms crossed as she leaned casually against the wall.

Jennifer stepped through the doorway, giving her armor one final adjustment. “Feels... different. But it’ll work.”

“It’ll have to,” Marcy replied with a faint smirk, holding out a folded map and a reinforced leather bag. “Here. You’re going to need these.”

Jennifer took the items, unfolding the map first. “What’s this?”

“Map of the country,” Marcy explained, tapping the paper with her finger. “Those circles? Gates. The darker the shade, the worse the danger. And trust me, you’re not ready for the dark ones.”

Jennifer’s eyes lingered on the map, her gaze locking on the blue circle a short distance away from the city. “This one is the weakest? I'm guessing it has the lizards?”

“Yes” Marcy said, her tone skeptical. “It should be manageable for you. Just don’t get cocky. A ‘blue gate’ can still kill you if you’re careless.”

Jennifer folded the map and tucked it into the bag, glancing at the sturdy leather and the iron-lined drawstring. “And this? What’s it for?”

“Lizard heads,” Marcy said. "That’s what you’re bringing back as proof.”

Jennifer slung the bag over her shoulder, her expression neutral. “It expands I'm guessing.”

Marcy chuckled. “Yes.”

"Got it."

Jennifer moved toward the exit, but Marcy’s voice stopped her.

“Hey,” she said, her tone serious now. “You’ve got the gear, and you’ve got the map, but don’t think that makes you invincible.”

Jennifer glanced over her shoulder. “Don't worry. I’m not an idiot.”

“Good. Because idiots don’t last long out there.”

Jennifer gave her a curt nod and pushed open the door. The crisp air hit her face as she stepped outside, the sound of the door clanging shut echoing behind her.

“Time to get started,” she muttered, folding the map and tucking it away.

Stepping outside, Jennifer scanned the active street. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows against the weathered stone buildings.

She found a spot near the corner of the monster slayer building, leaning back against the cool wall, arms crossed.

The first few minutes passed uneventfully. She fiddled with the straps of her bag, checked the gauntlets on her hands, and adjusted her armor. Across the street, a pair of workers loaded crates into a rickety cart, their laughter carrying faintly on the breeze.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Jennifer’s gaze drifted up to the sky, watching as thin clouds crawled lazily across the horizon. The sun dipped lower, and the air grew cooler. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her patience beginning to fray.

Thirty minutes. Still no sign of anyone.

Jennifer kicked a loose stone, watching it tumble across the stairs before settling in a crack.

“Screw this,” she muttered, her voice cutting through the silence.

Jennifer tightened the bag’s strap across her shoulder and pushed herself off the wall. If her supposed partner couldn’t bother to show up, then she’d do this on her own.

Back at her apartment, Jennifer pushed open the heavy wooden door, its iron hinges groaning as if protesting her return. The small space greeted her with its familiar chill, the faint scent of damp wood and lingering ash from the communal fireplace below filling the air. She hung her cloak on the hook by the door and crossed the room to the corner where her weathered chest rested.

Kneeling, she ran her hand over the iron-bound lid before flipping it open. Beneath a layer of folded cloth, a leather pouch sat tucked away. She untied it, counting the coins within. It wasn’t much—just enough to cover immediate expenses. She tied the pouch to her belt, grabbed her cloak again, and fastened it snugly. Without sparing a glance back, she stepped into the corridor, her boots echoing faintly as she left the house.

She made her way towards the transportation center.

Drivers stood by their vehicles—some horse-drawn, others motorized—shouting their destinations to passersby.

Jennifer’s eyes scanned the rows of vehicles until they landed on a battered open-air carriage at the edge of the square. The iron plating on its sides bore scratches and dents.

The driver leaned lazily against the carriage, a pipe clenched between his teeth. He eyed her approach with casual indifference, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

“The nearest blue gate,” she said simply, coming to a stop a few feet away.

The driver raised an eyebrow, removing the pipe from his mouth. “By yourself?”

“How much?” Jennifer asked, ignoring his tone.

He shrugged, sizing her up. “Sixty. Hazard pay.”

*Fucking ridicoulous.*

“Forty,” she countered.

“Fifty, and I’m not waiting around if you don’t come back,” he said, his smirk deepening.

“Fine.”

He straightened, tossing his pipe into a brazier nearby. “Climb in.”

Jennifer stepped into the carriage, the leather seat creaking under her weight. Soon after the carriage started moving.

The city quickly faded behind them, giving way to endless stretches of cracked earth. The soil was dry and brittle, the jagged lines running across it like veins of a lifeless corpse. Sparse tufts of withered grass clung to the cracks, their pale yellow color a stark contrast to the dull, ashen grey of the ground. Occasionally, stunted shrubs, gnarled and leafless, jutted from the earth like skeletal fingers reaching toward the sky.

Jennifer leaned back, her fingers absently brushing each other as the landscape grew bleaker with every passing mile.

There was jagged shadows over the fractured terrain. What little life there was seemed muted and struggling, as though the land itself was suffocating under some unseen weight.

“You see that?” the driver said, breaking the silence. He nodded toward the horizon, where the world seemed to twist unnaturally. Jennifer squinted, spotting the faint outline of the gate region.

The ground ahead shifted in color to a deeper, more lifeless blue. Tiny shimmering particles floated upward, glinting faintly like embers escaping from unseen fires. The air seemed to ripple there, as though reality itself was bending and straining.

“This is as far as I go,” the driver said as he pulled the carriage to a stop. “You want me to wait? It’ll cost you sixty an hour.”

Jennifer climbed down, the dry soil crunching beneath her boots. “No need,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag.

“Suit yourself.” The driver gave her a brief nod before turning the carriage around.

She stood there for a moment, taking in the sight before her. The boundary between the normal world and the gate land was almost tangible, a line where the air seemed to shift.

Reaching out, she brushed her fingers through the invisible divide. One side felt warm and gritty; the other was cool and smooth, like glass.

Jennifer took a steadying breath and stepped forward. The chill hit her immediately, wrapping around her like a vice.

The air carried a faint metallic tang, sharp and unnatural. She turned back briefly, seeing the normal landscape behind her, warm and familiar.

Ahead, the red sandy terrain stretched endlessly, surreal and otherworldly. Bubbles of green liquid floated just above the ground, casting warped reflections that twisted and shimmered in the pale light.