Aiden kept his head low, shoulders tense as he blended into the flow of Hunters waiting near the checkpoint. His pulse pounded, but he forced himself to move naturally—just another no-name D-Tier here for a job. No sudden movements, no hesitation.

But his thoughts raced.

Why the hell is Reiss here?

B-Rank Hunters didn’t waste their time on D-Tier Rifts. They had bigger hunts, higher-paying jobs. For someone like Reiss—weakest of the Kain family, but still leagues above Aiden—to be here at some random clearance job? It didn’t make sense.

Was he here for something? Someone?

Aiden clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder. Reiss hadn’t seen him. He was still caught up in conversation with another Hunter, too preoccupied to scan the crowd.

Good. Keep moving.

He stepped forward. The handler barely looked up as he checked Aiden’s wristband.

“Solo entry?”

“Yeah,” Aiden said, voice steady.

The man grunted, scanned his device, then nodded. “Clear. Gate’s open.”

Aiden exhaled, stepping forward.

The Rift loomed ahead, an unstable mass of swirling blue energy, humming faintly as it pulsed. The air around it buzzed with static, sending a faint vibration through Aiden’s bones.

He hesitated.

This was it.

His first Rift alone.

No backup. No team. No one to save him if things went wrong.

His fingers curled at his sides. Good. That’s the point.

Aiden stepped through.

And everything changed.

The moment Aiden crossed the threshold, the world tilted.

A rush of pressure slammed against his chest—like stepping into deep water, sound muffled, the air heavier than it should be. The hum of the Rift faded, replaced by silence.

Then—light.

Not the eerie, flickering blue glow of most Rifts. Not the sickly, unnatural colors of an anomaly. This light was different.

It stretched across the sky in jagged fractures, like cracks in a darkened dome, casting shifting silver beams over the landscape. As if something had once broken through this world, and the wounds had never fully healed.

Aiden’s boots landed on smooth, slate-colored stone. Not dirt. Not rubble.

A city.

Or what was left of one.

Towering structures stretched into the sky, their surfaces marred with deep scars. Some leaned at unnatural angles, frozen mid-collapse, like time had failed to finish its job. The buildings weren’t just ruins. **They were wreckage—**as if something had torn through them long ago.

Pools of still water dotted the streets, reflecting the fractured sky, but they weren’t normal. The reflections rippled even when undisturbed, shifting between different images—sometimes mirroring the sky, sometimes showing things that weren’t there.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Aiden’s breath slowed.

This isn’t normal.

He had seen plenty of Rift-generated environments in training footage. They didn’t have places like this.

The air carried a strange weight, pressing against his skin—not in a suffocating way, but like something was watching. Waiting.

Aiden’s fingers twitched toward his knife.

Nothing in his vision. No warnings. No directives.

Just silence.

The deeper he walked into the ruins, the heavier that silence became.

No creatures. No movement.

Not even the distant skittering of low-tier Rift beasts.

That was wrong.

Even low-level Rifts had wildlife—corrupted creatures that wandered the terrain, waiting to attack any unprepared Hunter. But this place was dead.

His boots echoed against the stone, the only sound breaking the stillness. He passed beneath the arch of a shattered bridge, his eyes scanning every shadow, every reflection in the water.

Nothing.

Then, he saw it.

A structure at the heart of the ruins.

Not a building.

A temple.

Its massive stone entrance loomed ahead, partially collapsed, its doors cracked open just slightly—like something had forced its way inside. The architecture was different from the ruins around it. Older. Heavier. Like it had been here long before the rest of the city had fallen.

Aiden’s pulse quickened.

Something was in there.

His vision flickered. For a brief second, he thought he saw something shift in the darkness beyond the entrance—too fast, too vague to confirm.

Then—

A low, distant pulse.

Not a sound. A feeling.

Like a second heartbeat beneath his own.

Aiden exhaled slowly.

He wasn’t alone.

Without a word, he stepped into the temple’s shadowed entrance.

And the Rift swallowed him whole.

Aiden exhaled, steadying his stance.

The temple ruins stretched ahead, cold and hollow. The distant pulse—that strange, second heartbeat—was getting stronger. Not inside him. Ahead.

Something was here.

The silence pressed down, heavier than before. He should’ve run into something by now—a stray beast, a scavenger, even some wandering low-tier Rift creatures.

But there was nothing.

Not until now.

A sharp metal scrape echoed through the chamber.

Aiden’s grip tightened on his knife.

There. Movement.

A shadow peeled from the rubble—small, hunched, fast.

A creature skittered into the dim light. Then another. And another.

Aiden’s stomach twisted. These weren’t Rift-spawned beasts.

They were humanoids—short, twisted figures wrapped in patchwork armor, their skin a sickly gray-green. Some carried rusted weapons, others gripped crude jagged blades. Not quite goblins, not quite something else.

Ruin Dwellers.

Aiden had read about them—low-intelligence, pack creatures that took over abandoned Rifts, scavenging whatever they could. Weak alone. Dangerous in numbers.

And there were a lot of them.

One of the creatures tilted its head, nostrils flaring. Then its jagged teeth pulled into a snarl.

It knew.

It knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.

Aiden didn’t wait. He lunged.

His vision flared—golden fire erupting in his sight, futures flickering before him.

Now. Dodge left. Counter. Block high. Step back. Sidestep.

For the first time—his body moved with the visions.

The first Ruin Dweller swung its rusted blade. Aiden ducked before it even completed the motion, his footwork sliding him just out of reach.

His knife flashed upward. A shallow cut across the throat. Not deep enough.

The creature shrieked. Another lunged from the side.

Aiden saw it coming before it even stepped forward. He pivoted—twisting just enough to let the attack graze past him.

Another strike.

His arm moved without hesitation.

His blade buried itself into the creature’s chest.

It spasmed. Aiden kicked it off his knife.

He was keeping up.

The batting cages paid off after all.

Two more charged at once.

His golden vision split into dozens of paths—some ending in him dodging too slow, others in him getting overwhelmed.

Only one path survived.

Aiden lunged straight into them.

The first swung a jagged axe—too slow. Aiden caught its wrist, twisting. The weapon flew free. His knife slashed upward, tearing through flesh.

The second snarled—its crude spear stabbing forward.

Aiden stepped into its range, twisting sideways. The tip of the spear scraped past his ribs—pain flared, but not enough to stop him.

His free hand clamped onto its throat.

Then he slammed it to the ground.

A sharp crack.

The Ruin Dweller went still.

Aiden stepped back, panting.

His body wasn’t lagging behind his visions anymore.

Before, he could see the perfect path, but he was too slow to follow it. Now? His body was catching up.

The Ruin Dwellers hesitated.

For the first time, they weren’t sure they could win.

Then a deep, guttural roar shook the ruins.

Aiden’s breath hitched.

The warband leader.

The Ruin Dwellers scattered—moving aside as something huge stepped into the chamber.

It was taller than the rest, wrapped in heavy metal scraps and scavenged armor. Its jagged blade was twice the size of Aiden. One burning crimson eye glowed from beneath its crude metal helm.

It let out a deep, echoing growl.

Aiden rolled his shoulders.

Alright.

Time for the real fight.