The blade sliced through empty air, and the world seemed to stand still, as if helplessly waiting for the sword to allow it to move. There was a tragic beauty in its stillness, a fleeting moment of control.
Invia had often watched his father train with a sword as a child, subconsciously dissecting each sharp movement. Those memories let him gauge the swordsmanship of the Harmonics battling Entropy beasts below.
"A bunch of noobs…" Invia whispered, his striking light grey eyes heavy with disappointment.
He wasn't supposed to be here. Rifts weren't a place for those like him, the few unfortunate souls left without a Resonance.
But he didn't care. Lately, the craving had grown louder, seeping through his daily life like water through a fractured dam. And since he was already here when the Rift formed, he wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Below, steel clashed with matter in an uneven rhythm.
The air trembled with the Rift's discordant hum, a jagged tear in reality spilling Entropy beasts like ink from a broken quill. Two Harmonics danced a doomed ballet, their swords flashing in futile arcs against the writhing chaos.
"Probably still in lower Physical Realms. This Rift is too much for them."
Invia leaned over the rooftop railings, his sharp eyes analyzing their movements. The craving gnawed at him, a hunger for something—not the blade, not the fight, but something deeper, undefined, clawing at his soul.
The first swordsman moved with rigid discipline, his strikes clean but predictable, ticking like a broken clock. His Resonance flared impressively, even if only for a moment.
The second moved like she was trying to impress someone. Her footwork was flashy, her grip too loose, too confident. Every slash asked for applause instead of aiming for the kill.
The creatures were ugly, pulsing things—half muscle, half shriek. Their movements defied clean lines, never telegraphed, never fair. Two smaller beasts zigzagged through debris, their jagged claws dragging sparks from broken stone. A larger one, more distinct, lingered in the Rift's shadowed light, as if it knew exactly when to strike.
The man's sword carved a crescent through the air, a move much more impressive than his earlier ones.
Invia raised an eyebrow. "Huh? A slash-focused one?"
It felled the smaller beasts, their forms dissolving into ash, but the effort left him exposed.
Invia frowned. "And now he's dead."
He was.
The larger beast didn't roar—it simply appeared, collapsing distance like time had skipped a frame. Its jaws clamped over the swordsman's shoulder and half his chest. Yet his sword arm rose, defiant to the last in a futile effort.
The woman screamed, her voice raw with loss—perhaps they were comrades, lovers, or strangers bound by the Rift's cruelty. Her blade flared with faint Resonance, a fleeting surge, as if her soul stretched beyond its limits. She lunged, slashing wildly, her sword igniting with a borrowed spark of will. For a heartbeat, the beast recoiled, as if her defiance rewrote the rules.
But Entropy cared not for heart.
A jagged claw tore through her side, lifting her like a ragdoll. She fell, her sword clattering uselessly, her eyes fixed on the sky, searching for meaning in the stars.
Invia watched the sword slip from her hand. A sudden wave of sadness hit him, a fleeting promise extinguished.
"Foolish," he whispered, barely audible over the Rift's drone. "But at least they felt it. That spark. That something."
He stood, the silver sword necklace at his throat glinting faintly. He took one last look at the scene—the swordsmen, the beast, the Rift. It felt like a simulation glitching into something too real, and he wasn't in it.
"Well," he murmured. "Better move before I start chasing shadows."
He slipped down the fire escape, its rusted rungs groaning under his weight. The city sprawled before him, a jagged skyline of half-abandoned towers and flickering lights, scarred by three years of chaos.
Three years ago, the world had fractured. Rifts—tears in reality—had clawed open across Earth, the same day a third of its people vanished. Cities emptied, economies crumbled, and whispers of "the Shattering" spread like wildfire. No one knew where the lost went, but the Rifts remained, spitting monsters mostly Harmonics could face.
Invia's father, Renald, had changed that day—rarely home, always on "business trips." Invia wasn't fooled. He'd seen the calluses on Renald's hands, the way his eyes scanned the dark. His father was fighting, wielding a sword like it was part of his soul.
The streets were a maze of barricades and shadows, the air thick with fear. Sirens wailed, a constant hymn since the Rifts began. People huddled behind concrete barriers, their murmurs carrying dread: "Another Rift… Combat Harmonics won't keep up at this rate…"
Invia's jaw tightened. He moved quickly, sticking to alleys where streetlights flickered like dying stars. The Rift's hum faded, but its pressure lingered, heavy against his chest, as if the world held its breath.
Rose's apartment was a few blocks away, a crumbling unit where survivors clung to routine. As he turned a corner, a pale, wrong light flickered across the sky—the Rift's echo casting the city in a ghostly hue. Invia's steps faltered, his instincts screaming of something bigger approaching, but he shook it off. Not my fight. Not my world.
He pushed open the apartment door, its hinges creaking like a warning. Rose sat at a small table, folding laundry under a single bulb's frail glow. Her face, lined with worry, softened when she saw him.
She noted the familiar sharp lines of his face, the dark fringe of his black hair, and those too-perceptive light grey eyes that seemed to see more than he ever let on.
"Invia. Out near the Rifts again?"
"Just watching, Mom. And I was already there when it formed. Nothing else to do." He leaned against the window frame.
Rose's hands stilled, clutching a worn shirt. "Watching's dangerous. What if one of those things notices you?" Her voice was firm, a mother's plea.
"I'm careful," he said, forcing a half-smile. "Besides, it's not like I'm one of them. No Resonance, no trouble, right?"
"Even so, accidents happen." Rose's voice softened to a whisper. "Why do you keep risking it? Every time you leave, I worry I'll never see you again."
Invia's jaw tightened. "I'm sorry, Mom," he murmured, his gaze falling to the worn floor. "It's just... I'm tired of watching. Everyone else, they have their Resonance, their purpose. I feel like I'm stuck outside, looking in at a world that's moving on without me." His voice was low, raw with a frustration he rarely showed.
The Rift's screeches buzzed faintly through the walls, unsteady, like a heartbeat skipping.
"What about me?" Rose said, her eyes narrowing with mock indignation. "I'm still here, and I haven't got a Resonance—not before the Shattering, when barely anyone had it, and not now, when everyone seems to."
Invia smirked suddenly, a spark of warmth cutting through his frustration. "That's good, Mom. Means you don't have to risk anything, and I don't have to worry about you." His tone was teasing, but his eyes held quiet sincerity.
"Hello?!" Rose's voice rose, her hands on her hips, eyes wide with mock disbelief. "Aren't you a little too shameless?"
Invia laughed, the sound bright and unexpected. Rose's stern facade cracked, and she laughed too, warm and familiar, pulling him back to simpler days.
His laughter softened, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said, raw but honest. "The craving's been worse lately." His voice wavered, frustration seeping through.
Rose's smile faded, her eyes softening. She crossed the room in two steps, wrapping him in a steady embrace. "You're enough, Invia," she whispered, her voice firm yet tender. "Harmonic or not, you're my son. That's what matters. Whatever's pulling you, we'll figure it out. Together."
He leaned into her hug, the warmth grounding him, even as the ache lingered. He wanted to believe her, to let her words anchor him to this fragile life.
But even in the quiet embrace, the city outside refused to be ignored. A faint tremor ran through the floor, barely noticeable at first, but enough to make the single bulb above them flicker. The Rift's hum, usually a distant drone, seemed to deepen.
Rose pulled back slightly, her gaze flicking towards the window.
A sudden flare of light spilled through the window, the Rift's glow surging unnaturally bright, casting jagged, dancing shadows across her face and widened eyes.
A terrible shriek shook the city. Invia turned towards the window, eyes going wide with horror.
A figure emerged from the rift's glow, right into the city's air, humanoid yet utterly wrong. Even from a distance, its massive details were clear.
Its face, a distorted mask, held too many eyes, gleaming like shattered stars. The air warped around it, streets cracking, shadows bending.
Rose's grip on his arm tightened, her face drained of color. "Invia, what is that?" Her voice quaked, raw with terror. "It's not like the others. It… looks human."
"Th—that shouldn't exist, not here, not in the middle of the city" Invia stuttered, his voice taut with dread. "It's making chaos just by being there. A Tyrant?"
The Tyrant's gaze swept the city, cold and unyielding. Above its outstretched hand, a dark orb formed, a sphere of Chaos that pulsed with despair, growing in size with each passing second. Rose's breath caught, her hand trembling. "It'll destroy us," she said. "The whole city."
Invia's chest tightened. His fingers brushed the sword necklace, useless against this horror. 'Where are the stronger Harmonics? The rift's been there for a while'
The orb's weight crushed his resolve, promising nothingness. He wanted to act, but he could not, powerless against such a beast.
Suddenly, thunder cracked, sharp and blinding. Lightning tore from the sky, a searing bolt striking the Tyrant's chest. The beast staggered, its scream splitting the night. The orb wavered, but its form held.
A man stood in the air, the space around him slithering with snakes reminiscent of gold.
"Everyone, evacuate!" he shouted, his voice a storm's fury. He held his hand in a throwing motion, and a spear made of pure lightning materialized in it. A heartbeat later, it suddenly grew twice in size, crackling with condensed destructive power.
A figure below him, hooded and cloaked in shadow, raised a hand and the air thrummed with unseen force. The Lightning Harmonic's spear grew twice its size again, now dwarfing the sky.
The spear launched, a blazing lance of lightning that consumed both the Tyrant and the orb. Light and shadow clashed, erupting in a cataclysmic explosion.
The blast intensified, a final surge that ripped through the city, shaking their apartment to its foundations.
Invia instinctively pulled Rose down, sheltering her as glass from the window frame shattered inward and the roar of collapsing buildings drowned out everything.
But, when the deafening tremor finally subsided, and the dust began to settle, a new, horrifying sound cut through the ringing silence: the snarl of an Entropy beast.
Invia looked up, his eyes widening. Standing in the gaping hole where their window had been, was a creature he had seen too many times – A Shatterling.
One of the weakest Entropy beasts, with multiple limbs ending in razor-sharp claws, its eyes glowing with malevolent green light. It had clearly been flung through the Rift by the blast, landing squarely in their apartment.
Invia met the beast's unblinking gaze, the heavy weight of his lack of Resonance crushing him.
"No..." he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, as the creature lunged.