The night breeze chilled the sweat on Kenta's body. Before his brain could process the danger, the errant was already on him, black claws tearing through the air toward his head.
In a blind reflex, Kenta crossed his arms in front of his face. The impact wasn't a strike — it was a blunt, crushing blow. The force threw him like a rag for several meters, and a sharp agony exploded in his right shoulder, dislocated by the charge.
With a muffled groan, he popped the bone back into place, the wave of nausea that followed almost knocking him out.
When his vision stopped spinning, what he saw was worse. Mikael.
The boy was frozen, feet rooted to the ground, eyes wide with pure terror.
The errant, a silhouette full of twisted intent and hunger, noticed the easy prey and turned toward him.
"Shit!" Kenta spat.
Ignoring the throbbing pain, he pulled the backpack off his shoulders and stomped so hard the muscles in his leg burned.
He closed the distance in an instant, grabbed Mikael by the waist and threw the unresponsive boy over his shoulders. The extra weight nearly toppled him, stealing all the momentum he had built.
The errant was less than a meter away. The stench of death and hatred flooded his nostrils.
Kenta drew a deep breath into his lungs, feeling his body ignite. His blood flowed like a raging river, concentrating on his right leg. His tendons were like steel cables.
"Shit! Work this time, body!" he growled to himself.
The exact moment his right foot flattened against the ground, he exploded forward. Not like a man running — but like a projectile being fired, leaving behind nothing but wind and a bewildered creature.
As Kenta sprinted, the streetlights flickered chaotically, lighting the empty street. His breathing was a ragged bellows, and his entire body begged for mercy—especially the lower half, where a stabbing pain throbbed at every step.
Mikael, limp over his shoulders, sank into a nightmare. It took Kenta's desperate shout to rip him out of the trance.
"MIKAEL!"
The boy's eyes focused, and the horrifying reality imposed itself. "You didn't tell me there were monsters!" he shouted, voice trembling.
Kenta didn't answer. He saved every drop of air for running, but the sound of fast dragging steps was closing in. Seconds crawled, the lights continued flickering, and the street remained terrifyingly empty.
The errant reached his back. Kenta tried the same trick again, stomping hard. This time, an electric shock of pain ran through his body. Three hundred meters of sprinting and superhuman bursts had turned his muscles into concrete. Mikael, feeling the stiffness, exclaimed:
"Put me down!"
Kenta ignored him. He knew it was a death sentence. The errant's claws, living shadows, hissed close to his heels. In a third desperate attempt, Kenta felt something burst inside his chest. Blood gushed from his nose, his legs locked, and both of them fell, rolling across the asphalt. Mikael saw his friend on the ground and pulled his backpack off to try helping him.
"GET UP!" Mikael shouted, shaking his friend's body.
"Run."
The word echoed in Mikael's mind, bringing back the memory of the dream. He clenched his fists, a cauldron of anger and fear overflowing inside him as he faced the creature. There was no time. The claws slashed past his face, leaving a thin cut on his nose. A second attack came, and Mikael, inexperienced, formed a clumsy guard. It was a movement that, for a normal human, meant death.
"NO!!!" Kenta screamed with everything he had.
In Kenta's mind, only a bitter and sad doubt remained. 'My friend is going to die… all because I'm…' A hot tear slid from his eye. 'Weak?'
The pain was replaced by shock as a sudden glow burst from Mikael's fist. A wave of energy repelled the errant's killing strike.
"What the—?" Mikael mumbled, confused.
On his wrist, a mark appeared — a circle crossed by a blade. The wave didn't hurt the errant, but it enraged it. Desperate, Mikael spotted a metal bar in the trash. He grabbed it, taking a trembling, unstable fighting stance.
Kenta, seeing his friend's suicidal determination, felt a slicing agony in his chest. That world wasn't a fairy tale.
"GET OUT OF THERE, IDIOT!" he shouted, trying to stand on gelatinous legs.
The errant attacked with a lateral slash. Mikael readied for the block, but the strike stopped in the air. The monster smiled with its macabre teeth and, in a lightning-fast movement, launched a powerful feint from the left.
'He… feinted?'
The thought echoed in Mikael's head the moment the claw struck his ribs. The impact threw him against a house wall. He blacked out the instant he hit it.
Seeing that, Kenta fought against his own body. His legs were destroyed, his nose bleeding, his heart pounding like a war drum. The fear wasn't of his own death — but his friend's.
"COME AT ME, YOU FUCKING ERRANT!"
The shout came from a terrified boy. The errant advanced, the amulet in Mikael's backpack split in half, and a sudden breeze sliced the air. Rushing footsteps echoed, and Nari appeared like a storm, her spear thrusting with brutal force. The monster's arm exploded into black mist under the pressure.
'Thank God…' A final look of relief shone in Kenta's eyes before unconsciousness took him.
Nari looked back at her fallen brother. "You really are useless, huh, brother." She turned to the errant, spear raised. "Come on, you little shit."
The errant lunged. Nari grounded her feet, left arm extended, right arm pulling the spear back. A deep breath, ether concentrated in her hip and arm—and then the motion. A precise thrust, generating a gust that pierced the errant completely. The monster's body disintegrated into particles in the air.
Nari scanned the area. Mikael, slumped against the wall. Kenta, unconscious on the ground.
"Shit."
Some time later, Mikael woke up. Disoriented, he looked around, searching for the nightmare, but he was on a comfortable couch. Kenta and Nari's house. He lifted a hand to his face and felt the bandage on his nose. When he tried to move, a stab of pain in his abdomen made him recoil. He lifted his shirt: his ribs were wrapped.
The front door opened. A tall man with an imposing build, long messy red hair, walked in carrying a sack over his shoulder. His eyes fell on Mikael, then locked onto the mark on his wrist.
"Well, look at what an interesting thing we have here."