Volume 2 – Chapter 1: Fractured Dawn

[April 24 – 6:00 AM]

At dawn, the city seemed otherworldly. It was more than the way the silence seemed so knifey, the air so punctured, heavier, with some left unsaid thing. It was the sense that we weren’t just running anymore. We were being hunted.

I lean against the cold concrete wall of the derelict building, feeling bone tired. It had been a longnight — rich with the murmurs of motion, listless calls of too-close, too-focused. Sleep had been impossible.

Rika was next to me, knees pulled to her chest, her eyes darting through the broken window to the street. Some strands played with her face but she didn’t seem to mind; her hair was a little messy. She’d been too focused, too aware. I could feel it in her muscles, even without looking.

Finally, she spoke in a low voice with a bit of bite to it. “How long can we run?”

More leaden than it had any right to feel, the question lingered between us. I knew what she was really asking.

I rubbed my face once, hoping to draw away whatever heavy thing draped over me. “So until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Rika tilted her head a little, looking me over. “And when we do?”

I had no answer. Because what if the truth was worse than not knowing? What if knowing was also dooming us?

She shook her head and sighed. “I don’t like this, Kaito. “I don’t like being in the dark about who is following us and why they’re following us and what they expect us to do next.”

“Neither do I.” My fists curled. “But we are not going to solve the problem sitting here.”

There was a crackling, which split the quiet air — crisp and you’ll furtive, as if a radio irruption the static. Both of us froze.

The ancient, pinch-me phone we’d stolen from a convenience store days earlier vibrated. A single message. Untraceable number.

I paused, then unlocked it. A short, cryptic message flashed across the screen.

"Eclipse units mobilizing. Stay out of open areas. They are watching. The choice is coming. Make it count."

My stomach twisted.

Rika read the message from behind me, leaning forward. I felt her tense beside me. “Eclipse units,” she grunted. “It’s them, isn’t it?”

I nodded slowly. “It has to be.”

Her grip tightened on the knife tp her belt. We had already known that we had been watched.” But this? This was different. This was confirmation.

I turned to her. “We need to move.”

She gasped, but didn’t argue. Sneaking out of the ruined building, we slinked along the shadows, our footsteps deliberate and mute. The city was still—too still.

For a moment, we walked in silence. And then, softly, Rika said, “Do you think we’ll ever stop running?”

I wanted to lie. I wanted to persuade her that it would be as simple as ‘yes’; that one day we would wake up and it would all be over.’ But I couldn’t.

Instead I did something I had never done. I took her hand and I reached out.

She stilled, startled for a flash. But she didn’t pull away.

I held her fingers gently between mine. “We have to believe we will.”

She looked at me then, actually looked at me, and I could see something shift in her face. The jagged edges dulled, but only slightly.

“I don’t want to lose you, Kaito,” she said quietly.

The words sat heavy, heavier than I had expected.

“You cannot,” I said, and before I had time to overthink it, I leaned in.

So did she.

The kiss was brief, tentative — but genuine. Letting the light shine in the chaos of these days. A quiet promise.

She didn’t fully pull back when we separated. Her forehead resting on mine for a few seconds, we both just breathing.

Slowly, she cared for him until finally she said, gently, “We have to figure this out.”

I nodded. “Together.”

The city might be waking up, but there wouldn’t be any rest for us.

No turning back.

[April 24 – 7:30 AM]

We picked our way through the remnants of the district, keeping to the buildings, evading open streets. Every shadow felt like a menace. Every distant sound turned my heart to ice.

Rika was there, with me, in her quiet but correct way. I felt as if we had been running forever, that the weight of all the days that came before was sewn into our bones.

“We need food,” she murmured. “And water.”

I knew she was right. We could not continue like this, on adrenaline and fear alone. The basic concept of me searching around the area of me for stuff useful There were convenience stores, but most had long since been looted.

“Let’s see if the old hotel on the east side is open,” I said. “There may still be supplies left over.”

Rika hesitated but nodded. “Fine. But we don’t stay long.”

We crept down paper-thin alleys, sticking to the narrow lanes between fallen buildings. The hotel was only a few blocks away, but every step felt like a risk.

The entrance had partially collapsed, such that debris blocked half the doorway. We slipped in and picked our way through the dusty lobby.

The air was stale and unbreathed for years. Furniture was turned over, shards of glass sparkling on the floor. I rummaged through the reception desk, yanking drawers open. Nothing useful.

Rika approached the bar area, rummaging through the leftovers. And after a brief pause, she made a muffled, triumphant sound and hoisted up a bottle of water.

“It’s something,” she said.

I followed her gaze to the shelves. There were some cans of food, expired ages ago, but still in factory-sealed cans. Good enough.

Then, as I was looking back, there was a flash of something in the corner of my eye. A movement. A shadow.

I tensed. “Rika.”

She looked up, immediately looking where I looked.

And then the lightest of footfall.

We weren’t alone.

Tension tightened in my chest like a spring. My hand clasped around my weapon, but I kept it holstered for now, my eyes roaming across the darkened grounds of the station.

Then—another sound. This time, closer.

Rika leaned against the counter and fought to keep her breath at bay. I could feel the adrenaline surging through her as it was surging through me.”

In the far corner of the room, an outline materialized.

For a moment we all just froze in place.

Then the stranger said, “You don’t have much time,” in a voice that combined some kind of meaning that couldn’t be read.

My grip tightened. “Who are you?”

The figure didn’t answer. They simply slipped forward at a crawl.

And then another.

I sensed Rika moving alongside me, muscles coiling, ready to strike.

It was a 3D chest run right up with a heavy encroachment.

Whatever happened afterward — this was the point of no return.