The Man Behind the Veil

Asahi blinked once, as if the sight before him meant nothing at all.

“Yume?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. “How did you get here?”

Yume stared at him across the fractured hallway. The light from the Veil behind him painted half his face in hues of ghostly silver and crimson. But he looked less like the quiet artist she remembered and more like someone who had seen too many endings.

“We should be asking you that,” she said, keeping one hand protectively in front of Ren.

Asahi’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. I just… woke up here. I’ve been trying to find a way out. When I saw the breach, I thought – maybe someone survived.”

Yume didn’t answer right away.

There was something too perfect about his confusion. Too measured. But now wasn’t the time.

She nodded stiffly. “Come with us. We’re trying to find Haruto.”

At that, something flickered across Asahi’s expression – barely visible. A twitch in the corner of his eye. Then it was gone.

“Of course, lets go!” he said.

They turned around and made their way back into the darkened halls, leaving the yawning wound in reality behind. Ren took the lead this time, navigating the facility with a strange kind of instinct. Twice they were forced to duck into hidden shafts as guards passed.

The deeper they went, the more unnatural the walls became. The lines of the architecture began to blur and twist. Static hummed faintly from the vents. Yume had the uncanny feeling that they were not crawling through ducts, but veins.

Eventually, Ren stopped. He pointed towards a grated panel ahead. Through it, they saw a small corridor branching into a single room. Faded letters glowed above the reinforced door.

SUBJECT 0

Yume’s breath caught.

She pushed the panel open and dropped silently to the floor, followed by Ren. Asahi landed last.

Yume approached the door and tried prying the door open. Nothing.

Ren tried next but the panel sparked.

Finally, before Ren could bring out his ink-tendrils, Asahi stepped forward. The panel lit up and the door hissed open with a soft shudder.

Yume turned sharply. “What…?”

“Let’s go! We don’t have time!” Asahi said again, too quickly this time.

She said nothing, but her hand tightened around Ren.

They entered.

The room was bathed in a soft, flickering blue. Machines lined the walls, many broken or dormant. In the center stood a large containment tube filled with a slow-churning fluid. Inside, was Haruto, suspended and unmoving.

Yume gasped.

He was curled slightly, arms folded across his chest. Scars marked his torso. His eyes were closed, hair floating weightlessly around him like ink in water.

Ren rushed forward, slamming his hand against the glass.

“Wait,” Asahi said. “We shouldn’t –“

But Ren was already moving.

He raised one hand and the fluid inside shimmered before the entire tube dissolved into dust.

Haruto collapsed forward, limp and gasping. Yume caught him before he hit the ground.

“Haruto,” she whispered, brushing the wet strands from his face.

His eyes fluttered open slowly.

“Yume?” he croaked.

She nodded, barely holding back tears. “I’m here. We’re all here. We found you.”

Ren crouched beside them, silent but wide-eyes. Haruto looked at him with relief.

Then his gaze shifted past them.

To Asahi.

A long pause follows.

Asahi smiled. “I’m glad you’re safe…”

Haruto sat up slightly, his body still trembling. For a moment, his eyes flickered between Yume and Ren. He blinked. Once. Twice. Confusion flickered and then, clarity.

A flicker of pain crossed his face as a flood of memory surged forward.

Yume reached for his arm. “Haruto… it’s alright. You’re safe now. We’re going to get out of here.”

“No,” Haruto said. “Asahi?”

He turned to Yume. “What is he doing here?”

Yume froze. “What do you mean?”

Haruto closed his eyes for a second. “I remember everything now.”

Flash.

A flickering memory – he was drowning again and again. In fluid. In time. Each loop ending in failure. A red sky. A crumbling city. A girl’s blood on his hands.

Flash.

He was younger, bound to a hospital bed. Needles in his spine. Dr. Yukawa murmuring something behind mirrored glass. “He remembers everything…”

Flash.

A pair of white boots stepping into the breach. A name repeated until it lost its meaning. A painting of a woman who shouldn’t have existed.

“The day I claimed I was kidnapped,” he said slowly. “I wasn’t. I lied to you.”

Asahi inhaled sharply.

“I was taken, yes. But not by enemies. Not exactly. It was my own group. To stand up against the Order. Aoi was also there.”

He paused before continuing.

“The ritual… was all a lie,” Haruto said. “At least, partly. Aoi wasn’t killed. It was to test a theory. It was all staged.”

“What theory? What’s going on?” Yume whispered.

Haruto’s voice was a whisper now. “That if Asahi Ishikawa was truly the Sovereign, the Order’s men would stop following us around. That their eyes would finally turn away from me.”

“And they did,” he added bitterly. “They stopped watching. That was the proof.”

Yume turned slowly to look at Asahi.

He didn’t flinch. Just stood there, listening before finally tilting his head. Something unreadable moved behind his eyes.

And then he smiled.