The train rumbled like a tired lung dragging breath through steel rails, cutting north toward the Rift frontier.
Kai Alaric Vogel sat in the last seat of the second-class car, hunched in his patched coat, thumb drifting down the screen of his cracked phone.
The novel's prose was dense—some old pre-collapse epic about a soldier who forgets his name in a war no one remembers—but he liked the quiet of reading. Stories had a beginning, middle, and end. They followed rules and offered closure, unlike real life.
"Bro," said a voice way too loud for this early hour. "Did you seriously bring Annihilation Verses: Blood Static Edition again?"
Kai sighed and didn't look up. "It's not Blood Static. That one's banned."
"Ohhh, so this is the censored version. Criminal, tragic, and weak," Emil Kovac declared, his voice dripping with mock outrage.
Emil was a wiry boy, kinetic energy packed into every joint like he might explode if he ever stood still.
Today, he wore a tattered bomber jacket adorned with spray-painted sigils from a dozen youth factions. Most meant nothing, but some meant trouble.
"You're going to die a virgin surrounded by dusty books, Kai," Emil continued, flipping over the phone to see the cover. "No offense."
"None taken," Kai muttered, snatching it back.
"You're still a loser, though," Emil shot back, grinning.
A thump interrupted their banter—someone vaulting into the seat across from Kai.
"Heyyyy Kai," sang a girl with a lopsided grin and mismatched socks—one striped, one decorated with tiny cartoon bombs. "If I died in a Rift breach, would you cry?"
"Don't tempt me," Kai replied dryly, trying to suppress a smile.
She giggled, undeterred. Yona Hirschfeld was a blur of randomness and noise, known for smuggling glitter into secured zones and once replacing the school psychologist's water with neon jelly.
"Seriously, though," Yona said, leaning closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I mean, I'd totally haunt you. Imagine me, floating around, making your life a living nightmare."
"Sounds like a typical Tuesday," Kai said, rolling his eyes.
Just then, two more girls joined the group, each bringing their own unique energy.
Aria Demetz walked like she expected the world to part for her, and it often did. With sharp features and sharper eyes, she was officially head of Wolfram's youth delegation and had kept everyone alive during last year's food riot. People followed her because she spoke like every word mattered.
"Yona, you'd probably just make him buy you snacks," Aria said, crossing her arms with a smirk. "And Kai would be too nice to say no."
"Exactly!" Yona exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "I'd be the ghost with the most snacks!"
The last to arrive was Lani Okafor, her soft laughter filling the space as she adjusted her hoodie sleeves, which were a bit too long.
She always hummed tunes from a different decade, and her presence was like a warm hug. "Guys, I swear, if Yona haunts Kai, I'm totally joining her. We can be the Snack Ghosts."
"Perfect! We'll scare him into feeding us," Yona said, winking at Kai.
"Great plan, but I'm not buying you anything if you're a ghost," Kai shot back, trying to keep a straight face.
"Aw, come on! What's a little haunting without snacks?" Yona pouted, but her grin betrayed her.
Lani chimed in, "I could translate the ghostly demands into something more reasonable. Like, 'Please provide us with popcorn and soda, or we shall haunt your dreams.'"
"Now that's a haunting I'd actually consider," Kai said, chuckling.
The car settled into a lazy noise as the train curved through the ash-fogged valleys of the Black Forest Exclusion Zone. The girls chatted animatedly—Yona joking about haunted vending machines, Lani playing translator for an argument Aria was having with a conductor in Swiss German, and Emil trying to set up a prank in plain sight.
"Honestly, I think the vending machines are just misunderstood," Yona said, her eyes wide with mock seriousness. "They're just trying to express themselves through snacks."
"Right, because a bag of chips is definitely a form of art," Emil replied, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, don't knock it! It's all about perspective," Yona insisted, waving a hand dramatically. "You have to look deeper."
"Deep like the bottom of a vending machine?" Kai quipped, and the group erupted in laughter.
As the train chugged along, Kai kept his eyes on his screen, but he didn't ask them to leave.
They were loud, weird, alive, and he liked them. In this moment, surrounded by friends and laughter, he felt a warmth that made the harsh world outside seem a little less daunting.
The noise wrapped around him like a familiar blanket, and for now, that was enough.
The train dropped them at a platform encased in high glass walls and scanning drones.
Welcome to the Wolfram Institute.
Students spilled out into biometric queues under the watchful eyes of patrol bots and masked guards. The forest loomed in the background—black-branched and still, as if holding its breath.
From afar, the Institute resembled a fortress carved into the edge of the woods. Its squat towers were utilitarian, reinforced with alloy plates and old monastery stone, giving it a stark, imposing presence.
Inside, the corridors were clean but felt off—like a hospital built by soldiers. Fluorescent lights buzzed unevenly.
Kai's schedule included Behavior Analysis, Resource Survival, Gene Theory, and "Adjustments & Resilience," which was code for mandatory psyche checks. All students had them, but Kai had them twice a week.
As he made his way to Dr. Lorentz's office, he felt the weight of the place pressing down on him. The psychologist—a kindly, balding man with worry lines etched into his forehead—smiled when he saw Kai. "Any more dreams about fire, Kai?"
Kai didn't answer. He stared at a fleck of rust on the filing cabinet, wishing he could disappear into it.
"Night terrors are normal after trauma. You were very young when it happened, yes? I know it's hard to talk about, but—"
"I don't dream," Kai said flatly. It was mostly true. When he did, they weren't his dreams.
Dr. Lorentz's gaze softened, but Kai could see the concern bubbling beneath. "That's okay, too. Just remember, you can talk to me about anything."
Kai nodded, but the words felt heavy in the air. He left the office feeling heavier than he went in, as if the walls had closed in around him. Outside, his friends were waiting.
Yona waved a candy in front of him with a grin. "Here. Sugar helps post-therapy depression. Scientifically proven by me."
"Where'd you even get this?" Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Contraband drawer. Fourth-floor air duct. It's fine," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Kai took the candy, grateful for the distraction.
They wandered the grounds before curfew. Even with patrols, Wolfram allowed "open-hour recreation" to give the illusion of freedom.
The group took the long path—down near the inner fence, where armored trees grew in crooked spirals and warning signs in four languages cautioned against crossing.
Yona skipped stones across a bio-filter pond. Aria was engrossed in her device, reading updates on Rift wave flux. Lani handed Kai one earbud without asking and played some old-world jazz. Emil was off to the side, trying to catch a camo-lizard for a bet.
For a moment, it felt almost normal.
Laughter mingled with the soft rustle of leaves, and the weight of the Institute faded into the background.
Then they passed a security panel flickering at the edge of the zone. Kai's head snapped toward it, a flicker pulsing behind his eyes.
He stopped walking.
The others didn't notice, or pretended not to. His vision blurred for half a second. A silhouette against the forest line. Antlers? Claws?
Gone.
Was it a memory?
"Hey, Kai! You coming?" Emil called, breaking the spell.
Kai shook his head, trying to clear the lingering image. "Yeah, just... give me a second."
"Don't get lost in your thoughts again," Yona teased, skipping back to him. "We need you to keep the snack supply up. You're our designated candy distributor now."
"Right, because that's a life goal," Kai replied, forcing a smile.
As they continued down the path, the unease settled in his chest like a stone. He glanced back at the flickering panel, but it was just a panel again.
Nothing more.
The laughter of his friends pulled him back, but the shadow lingered in the corner of his mind.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Lani asked softly, noticing his hesitation.
"Yeah, just tired," he said, shrugging it off. "Let's keep moving."
First came a deep, low siren, followed by flickering red lights. A synthesized voice echoed across the Institute:
"Code Vanta-3. Rift signature breach. Secure locations. Execute Evac Protocols."
Students froze mid-step. Emil instinctively grabbed Lani's hand. Aria snapped into command mode, guiding nearby first-years toward reinforced shelter zones.
Kai stood still, the hum in his bones returning. This wasn't fear or memory—it was a calling.
The breach didn't follow the usual pattern. Instead of localized containment, the entire west sector darkened. A shimmer broke through the treeline—a rippling shape of shifting bones and tendrils crawling sideways into real space.
A creature.
It resembled a deer stripped of skin, with a second jaw hanging from its neck. It blinked in four directions and sniffed at the fence.
Then it stepped through—as if the barrier didn't exist.
Panic erupted. The creature struck a scout drone, shrieking like metal being flayed. Soldiers opened fire, but the bullets bent mid-air. The creature lashed out, chaos spreading like wildfire.
The students ran.
Kai ran too, but the world tilted. Something ancient stirred in his spine, heat pouring through his ribcage. Veins glowed blue for an instant, and he fell, clutching his skull.
Pain surged—not just pain, but a rewriting.
"You belong," a voice resonated, not spoken but carved within him.
He lifted his head. The creature loomed above him.
Then something leapt from his body—no, from within it. A jagged burst of parasitic tendrils erupted outward, catching the beast mid-lunge. They shredded it, gene by gene, devouring its essence.
Then they sank back into him.
Kai gasped, feeling everything shift.
He saw through different eyes, felt muscles that weren't his own. Looking down, he saw his arm halfway mutated—laced in translucent bone-plate, faintly pulsing.
"Mutation Identified. Neural Symbiosis: Stage One."
What's happening to my body!? Static filled his mind.
Cameras blinked. A drone pivoted, lens focusing on him—his face, his form. He was caught.
I need to get out of here! But he didn't wait.
He turned and ran into the darkening forest as the Rift pulsed again behind him, the sound echoing like a heartbeat. The trees loomed, shadows stretching as he plunged deeper into the unknown, adrenaline surging through him.
With each step, he felt the creature's remnants within him, a strange connection binding them together. The forest whispered secrets, and he could almost hear them.
Kai pushed through the underbrush, the panic of the Institute fading behind him, replaced by a new urgency. Whatever was happening, he had to find out what it meant.