Rain fell in an endless rhythm, a steady drip, drop against the shattered remains of a once-bustling district. It showed no signs of relenting.
A small boy, barely eight years of age, stood in the middle of the devastation.
His messy black hair clung to his drenched skin, strands sticking to his forehead in tangled clumps.
His youthful yet hollow face was streaked with dirt and ash, his fragile frame trembling under the weight of the downpour.
His eyes—dark brown, no, black—stared blankly at the wreckage that had once been his home, their depth betraying an emotion far too heavy for someone so young.
Buildings lay in ruins, charred skeletons of what were once homes and shops.
Flickering streetlights cast an eerie glow over the wet pavement, their neon signs shattered, sparks hissing against the rain.
A storm raged within him, emotions colliding and twisting into something unrecognizable.
Grief.
Fear.
Emptiness.
But above all, one feeling burned brighter than the rest.
Anger.
Tears carved silent paths down his cheeks, mixing with the rain—indistinguishable, yet heavy with the weight of loss.
And then, just like that—
He woke up.
'Just a dream...'
Talio exhaled, his breath misting in the cool night air.
The worn leather seat beneath him groaned slightly as he pushed himself upright.
The old train car he had been sleeping in rocked gently as it passed through a dimly lit district, neon lights from passing streets casting shifting shadows through the cracked windows.
He was no longer the frail child from his nightmares.
No, the boy from before was long gone. In his place sat a young man, tall—nearly six feet—with a lean, hardened frame shaped by years of struggle.
His arms, once scrawny and weak, were now lined with firm muscle, his shoulders broad yet wiry, built for endurance rather than brute strength.
His once-wild black hair was now tied into a short half ponytail/bun that fell above his shoulders, though several strands slipped loose, framing a sharp jawline and high cheekbones.
His light skin bore faint scars—faded remnants of battles fought and survived.
He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he gazed out at the cityscape rushing past.
'Eight years... I really need to stop having these dreams.'
Ah, but I seem to have forgotten something, haven't I? An introduction is in order.
Better late than never, I suppose.
I am the narrator of this tale, you could say. In fact, you might even call me the author of this little story. But that—well, that is a matter for another time.
For now, you may call me Basileus. Or Basil, if you prefer. Just think of me as another reader, yeah I know how can someone be an author, narrator and spectator all at once. All I can say is keep reading.
The train came to a slow stop at a station lit by artificial sunlight, casting a warm glow over the streets.
Talio stepped out onto the cracked pavement, boots pressing against rain-slick stone.
A light breeze carried the scent of fresh street food and the faint tang of oil, the sounds of the city filling the air.
This place was nothing like the district in his dreams.
There, the sky had wept, the rain washing over blackened ruins and smothering dying embers.
Here, the world was alive—thriving. Skyscrapers stretched into the heavens, their glass exteriors reflecting the golden hues of a setting sun.
Below, a network of alleyways and neon-lit streets wove through the city, filled with people moving about their lives.
Talio barely acknowledged any of it. The glow of the city did nothing to thaw the cold weight in his chest.
Shocking, I know. Who would've guessed that fancy lights and street food wouldn't magically fix his deeply ingrained trauma? Sigh... I really should not be criticizing my own story.
Talio feeling hunger starting to well up, put his hands in his pockets and started trying to feel the amount of money he had left by feeling the shape of the.
He had give or take five crowns and eighty some pars. This should be enough to by him a meal right?
'Man inflation can ruin lives'
For the sake of simplicity 1 crown is the same as 1 pound whilst 1 par is the same as 1 pence. That should make your lives easier.
Talio walked to the cheapest fast food restaurant he could find, driven by both his frugal nature and a lack of better options. He entered one with a faintly familiar name — McDaddy — but couldn't quite put his finger on where he'd heard it before.
He took a cautious sniff of the food in the air. In all honesty, it smelled surprisingly decent. Despite that, a vague sense of foreboding began to crawl up his spine.
He glanced around the room, hoping for salvation. But alas, all hope was lost when he realized the only things available were breakfast options.
Now this is a terrible feeling, walking into a restaurant and because your too early the only thing they sell is breakfast wraps. Don't worry brother I feel you.
In a sour mood, Talio accepted his fate. It was already too late to turn back now — and definitely not because his stomach was growling so loud it threatened to devour him from the inside out.
It was finally his turn to order. The receptionist gave him a bright smile and asked:
"What would you like to order?"
Talio looked the receptionist in the eyes... or at least, he hoped he was. Ever since that incident eight years ago, he hadn't been able to see faces clearly. In their place was a large, ominous X, as if his brain had manually censored their identities.
He didn't mind anymore. It was just his mind's way of shielding him from more suffering.
"Do you have any sweet chilli crispy wraps?"
The receptionist replied without missing a beat:
"We only have breakfast options."
Talio swore internally, keeping his expression neutral. He let out a sigh and said:
"Alright then... can I just have a breakfast wrap?"
"Okay… as a meal or on its own?"
"On its own, please."
"Would you like a drink?"
Talio's eye twitched slightly.
"No, on its own, please."
"Would you like to donate to charity? If so, how much?"
'Are these guys genuinely enjoying how many questions they're asking? Surely this isn't in their paycheck…'
"No, I would like the breakfast wrap on," — he emphasized the on — "its own, please and thank you."
"Alright! That'll be four crowns and ninety-nine — cash or card?"
"Cash."
As he answered, he pulled a five crown note from his pocket and handed it over. The receptionist beamed, took it, and handed him his receipt along with a single coin.
'They can't be serious. One par in change. These pricing strategies don't fool anyone — four crowns and ninety-nine par is basically five crowns. No way people think that tiny one par difference is significant.'
To be honest I would either tell the receptionist to keep the change or give it to charity. As they say every little counts am I right?
He walked to a seat near the counter and sat down. His receipt read: Order #003
All he had to do now was wait a literal decade for his fo—
"Number 003, your order is ready!"
Talio blinked.
He was visibly stunned.
How had the food come so fast?
...Alas life isn't fair...
This... this was a miracle.
Practically skipping to the counter, he thanked the receptionist, grabbed his food, and walked out.
He wandered a bit, taking in the scenery until he found a bench near the guild. He sat down, unwrapped the breakfast wrap, and took a slow, appreciative bite. As boredom settled in, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
With his eyes shut, his other senses sharpened. He started to eavesdrop on nearby conversations drifting out from around the guild.
Most of it was useless waffle. But one particular exchange caught his attention.
Voice Number 1 asked:
"So… are you gonna join the raid?"
Voice Number 2 replied with:
"The prize money just for clearing it is crazy huge. It's definitely swaying me."
The other voice asked:
"How much do you get?"
"Five-thousand crowns."
There was a pause. Voice 1 then said:
"That's not worth risking your life."
Voice 2 smiled — a slight, sinister curl to his lips, though Talio couldn't see it.
"There are about one hundred and fifty people applying so far. The raid allows for two-hundred spots. Everyone gets five-thousand crowns minimum, and some get even more. The guild said the total payout is around one million crowns. So... the fewer people that survive, the more prize money."
Talio leaned in, straining to catch more, but the rest of the conversation was too faint.
'Well… I am bored. Might as well. Free money too.'
Boredom kills so they say...