Chapter two: Terror and Darkness

Water dripped steadily from a pipe. The cries of the wounded echoed like ghosts. Somewhere in the distance, monsters roared in grim harmony. Footsteps—rapid, scattered, frantic—sounded as though he were lost in a marketplace of terror.

Uyi’s eyes flickered open. The weight pressing down on him made it hard to breathe. It was pitch dark. He tried to move, but his leg refused to follow. Trapped. Worse still, he had no idea where he was. Fear spread through him like ice.

Then came the growl. From above.

His breath seized, heart hammering. The sound was close—too close. Something was clawing at the concrete overhead, trying to break through.

How was he even alive after that explosion? And where were the others—Sara, and the old man? The scratching above only deepened the dread curling inside him.

The noise stopped. Dust and concrete fragments tumbled through a small crack, letting in a faint slice of light. The cramped hole was about four meters long. Uyi’s legs were wedged between iron bars. Gritting his teeth, he heaved with all his strength, but the bars refused to let go.

Then the opening darkened. A burning, bestial eye peered down at him.

He froze.

He had read about monsters, about the Rift, but had never truly believed he would see one. Now, one was staring back at him.

The creature dug furiously, its claws scraping at the concrete. The hole widened with every strike. Panic surged. Uyi thrashed, desperate to free himself. At last, the concrete above his leg cracked enough for him to slip it through.

Free at last. But not safe.

The monster’s snout now pressed through the opening, its sheer size confirming its monstrous scale. The claws tore further, stones raining down. The hole was growing fast.

Uyi scanned frantically. Behind him, the sound of dripping water came from a gap beneath a mound of rubble. With no choice, he crawled toward it. Jagged metal tore his skin as he squeezed into the tight passage.

The monster lunged, its jaws snapping through the widening hole. Folding his legs, Uyi narrowly avoided the bite. Another claw strike. The opening widened further.

He clawed his way through, bleeding and gasping, just as the roof above gave way entirely. The rubble collapsed in a violent crash.

And the beast followed.

Uyi tumbled into the gap, plummeting several meters. Pipes battered his body as he crashed downward before slamming into the cold, wet ground.

Darkness swallowed him.

When his eyes opened again, he was on his back, chest heaving. The air reeked of rust and damp. He pushed up weakly, only to collapse from the pain burning through his shoulder and ribs. Touching his head, his fingers met a sticky clot of blood.

Memories rushed back—the explosion, the monster. He shuddered. Were his friends alive?

The darkness pressed close, disorienting. He dared not call out; anything could be lurking here. He chose a direction blindly and forced himself to walk.

Each step was agony. His body screamed, ribs stabbing with every breath. Still, he pressed forward. For his friends. For survival.

Time blurred. He staggered for what felt like hours, pausing only to catch his breath before stumbling on again. Hunger gnawed at him. Thirst cracked his lips. But still, he walked.

Finally—light.

A faint glow glimmered ahead. Relief pushed him onward until he reached a metal door crusted with permafrost. A hatch sat in the center, its small window frozen over.

Uyi hesitated. Was the monster still nearby? Was this a trap? With no other option, he grasped the lever. At first it wouldn’t move. He slammed his fist against it again and again until, at last, it gave way.

The door creaked open.

Cold rushed in like a blade. Snowflakes bit at his skin as a howling wind swept through. Beyond lay nothing but endless white—an unforgiving wasteland of ice. His thin clothes offered no defense. Starvation or monsters behind him. The frozen unknown ahead.

He stepped forward. One step. Then another. The blizzard thickened until he could no longer see where he had come from, nor where he was going.

He had known hardship before. But never this.

“Where did it all go wrong?” he thought bitterly, as his body finally gave in. He collapsed into the snow, swallowed by the storm.

Elsewhere, a man trudged through the blizzard with his dog at his side. His gear was heavy and strange, a device glowing faintly at his belt. His companion resembled a dog in shape, but its frame was of metal, joints hissing with steam.

They pressed on for kilometers through the storm until the mechanical hound froze, sensors flaring. It barked—an electronic sound—and began to dig.

Beneath layers of snow, a boy’s dark skin emerged.

The man frowned. He almost turned away, until he noticed the boy’s shallow breaths. Alive. Barely.

“Well,” he muttered, hauling the limp form onto his back, “looks like the cargo can wait. Didn’t expect to find someone out here.”

The mechanical dog beeped in agreement.

Together, they turned back into the storm, carrying their unexpected burden toward safety.