The wind blew through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blood and dust. Even after the collapse of the illusory realm, the entire district remained unstable, like a fragile, fragmented painting on the verge of falling apart.
Ethan stepped over the rubble, the soles of his boots crunching against broken glass. He still held his weapon, but his expression was languid, as if this chaos were just another day at the office."Really curious how the Chief will write this report… 'Two agents stormed the illusory rift and accidentally lost an entire block.'"
Karl's face remained serious, scanning the surroundings. Just as they were about to leave, a faint coughing sound echoed from nearby.
The two exchanged a glance, then followed the sound. Among the rubble, a man, covered in bruises and blood, huddled in a corner. Dust and grime nearly made him blend into the ruins. His eyes were wide with terror, and he instinctively recoiled when he saw them.
"Don't be afraid." Ethan raised his weapon with one hand, signaling safety, though his tone still carried teasing sarcasm. "Relax, today I only plan to kill time, not people."
The man's pupils flickered slightly as he recognized their insignias. "You… you're from the Bureau?"
"Yes." Karl crouched down, handing him a bottle of purifier. "How are you still alive? Almost no one survives inside the illusory realm."
The man's throat moved as he shakily took the bottle, voice hoarse."I… I saw him."
Ethan raised an eyebrow."'Him'? If you mean God, I should warn you—I've met his hellish incarnations before."
The man shook his head, breathing rapidly, forcing out the words:"A… young man in a black trench coat. He wasn't consumed by the illusion… he walked out of the rift, like… he didn't belong to the dead at all."
The air tightened instantly.
Karl's heart skipped a beat. He whispered:"Ethan, the person he's describing—"
"I know," Ethan interrupted, a faint, knowing smile curling at his lips. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
The man continued trembling."I saw him with my own eyes… standing in the nightmare mist, back to me. He whispered something, I couldn't hear it clearly… only remember the last words—'Ethan.'"
At that moment, Ethan froze.
The wind howled, as if even the air deliberately hushed itself.
Karl immediately grabbed the survivor's shoulders, urgency in his voice."Are you sure you didn't see wrong? Was he human, or a nightmare?"
The man's eyes glazed over, sweat beading on his forehead."I… I don't know. But I remember… his eyes weren't like the dead, nor like the living."
Ethan exhaled lightly, relighting a cigarette. The smoke shrouded the complex gleam in his eyes."Looks like the tombstone I placed for my old friend… was purely decorative."
The survivor looked at him, trembling."You know him?!"
"Know him?" Ethan blew a smoke ring, his tone casual."Better than anyone. He even personally left a hole in me back then."
Karl was momentarily speechless. He could feel the biting sarcasm in Ethan's tone, yet behind the veil of smoke, his eyes were grave—almost bleeding seriousness.
The survivor's voice grew weaker."What I'm saying… is true… he's not dead…"
Before he could finish, his body slumped, fainting completely.
Karl caught him, looking up at Ethan."We have to verify this. If he's really alive…"
"Then my death was just a starter," Ethan sneered, extinguishing his cigarette. "And the main course… is still to come."
The wind circled among the ruins, whispering.
The shadow of a friend had finally left the first tangible trace between death and nightmare.