Arcadia City was alive in a way that felt almost cruel.
At night, the skyscrapers glittered like sharpened blades, slicing through the darkness. Neon advertisements painted the sky in bright blues and reds, flickering over the crowds that filled every street. Music poured out of open shops, street vendors shouted over one another, and school students in uniform walked home while complaining about tests.
But beneath all of that noise, there was always a low, steady hum—the kind of tension that never went away.
The tension of a city built beside a gate that could either give you a future… or take it away.
Kael Ardyn moved through the crowds quietly, his cracked backpack slung over one shoulder. Nobody paid him any attention, and he preferred it that way. His black hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered with it in days, and the fading bruises on his arms were a reminder of the part-time jobs he'd been forcing himself through.
He should have been in the university.
He should have been in the top class, bright and focused.
But today, instead of textbooks and lectures, he carried medical bills folded into his backpack.
Bills he could no longer pay.
Bills that were crushing him slowly.
He crossed the street, passing by a massive holographic billboard that showed a handsome young man in glowing armor, smiling confidently as a spirit beast floated behind him like a guardian angel.
"Join the Spirit Elite!" the billboard boomed.
"Enter the Veilworld and return with power!"
Kael looked away quickly.
Everything in Arcadia was like that—posters, screens, propaganda. They all screamed the same message:
Your value depends on the spirit you bond with.
But Kael knew reality better.
People died in the Veilworld.
People came back broken.
Some never came back at all.
He continued walking until he reached the steps of Arcadia General Hospital, the place he visited more than any other building in the city.
The sliding doors opened with a soft hiss. The smell of disinfectant rushed out immediately—cold, sharp, and exhausting. Kael knew this smell better than he wished he did.
He walked down the hallway, passing old men in wheelchairs, nurses rushing from room to room, and doctors frowning at holographic medical charts. The lights flickered occasionally. Hospitals in the outer ring didn't get the reliable power that the rich district had.
Room 402 was near the end of the hall.
Kael stopped in front of the door.
He always hesitated here. Not because he didn't want to see her, but because at any moment, the doctors could give him news he wasn't ready for.
He took a breath and stepped inside.
His mother lay on the bed, her face pale but her eyes soft. She was thinner than last month—her cheeks hollowed, her fingers delicate like paper. The oxygen mask beside her hissed weakly, reacting to every slow breath she took.
She turned her head.
"Kael…?"
He forced a smile. "Hey, Mom. I'm here."
"You came earlier than usual today."
"I finished work early," he lied smoothly.
She gave him a tired smile—the kind only a mother could give.
He walked to her bedside, arranging her pillows, adjusting her blanket. He worked carefully, almost like he feared she would break.
"Kael," she whispered. "Sit."
He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, trying to look relaxed.
"Did you eat today?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Kael."
He sighed. "I'll eat later."
She shook her head weakly. "A growing boy needs strength."
"I'm not a boy anymore," he said quietly.
Her gaze softened. "To me, you'll always be the little child who used to drag rocks home, saying they were treasure."
He chuckled. "I was five."
"You were ridiculous."
She smiled. "But you believed everything you touched could become valuable."
His smile faded slowly.
Her eyes began to drift toward the window.
From where she lay, she could see the faint glow of Veilgate Tower in the distance. Even from here, it looked immense—a colossal glass structure swirling with bands of radiant light.
They stared at it together for a moment.
"Kael…" she said softly, "one month."
He swallowed hard. "Yeah."
"In one month, you'll turn seventeen."
"Yeah."
"And then you'll… face the Gate."
He didn't answer.
She turned back to him, her eyes full of quiet fear.
"You're scared."
"A little."
"A little?" She tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough. Kael immediately poured water for her, but she waved him off gently.
"Kael," she whispered, "do you think I don't see how tired you are? You work two jobs. You barely sleep. You dropped out of the university…"
He froze.
"I didn't want to," he said in a low voice.
"You were always top of your class," she said softly. "The teachers loved you. They said you could become one of the brightest minds in Arcadia."
"That doesn't matter now."
"It does matter."
He clenched his fists tightly, staring at the floor.
"It's just school, Mom."
"It was your dream."
"It was a luxury," he corrected.
"You're my responsibility."
She reached out and touched his hand.
"You shouldn't have sacrificed your future for me."
"I didn't sacrifice anything," he said firmly.
He looked into her eyes—eyes he had inherited.
"You gave me everything," he whispered.
"Food even when you didn't eat. Clothes even when you had nothing. You carried me alone in this world."
His voice shook.
"If I can't take care of you now, what kind of child am I?"
Her eyes glistened with tears.
The lights flickered again, and the oxygen machine made a concerning sound. Kael adjusted it quickly, pressing the reset button the nurse had shown him. The machine stabilized.
"Kael," she whispered, "promise me something."
He held her hand gently. "Anything."
"When the day comes… don't run from the Gate."
He froze.
"Mom—"
"You want money for treatment, right?" she said. "You want a cure?"
"Yes."
"Then you need power," she said quietly.
"And power comes from the Veilworld."
He didn't answer.
"You're afraid of being veilless," she said softly.
Kael's body went still.
She knew.
Of course she knew.
The veilless were the lowest class of all.
People who:
Failed to bond with a spirit
Or were rejected by the Gate
Or were too scared to enter at all
People who came back broken.
People society treated as shadows.
He had seen them on the streets.
He had seen how people looked at them with pity… or disgust.
He didn't want that life.
Not when he needed to save her.
"It's okay to be afraid," his mother whispered.
"But don't let fear stop you from trying."
Her voice cracked.
"Your father faced the Gate too."
Kael's breath caught.
She rarely talked about his father.
"He was brave," she said softly. "Just like you."
"What happened to him?" Kael asked quietly.
She closed her eyes.
"That's a story for another day."
She tried to smile, but Kael could see the pain behind it. He didn't push further.
He opened the lunch box he brought—a simple meal of rice, vegetables, and a small piece of chicken.
Her eyes lit up.
"You cooked again?"
"Yeah."
She picked up a spoon and tasted the rice. She paused dramatically.
"Well?" Kael asked, bracing himself.
"It's not as bad as last time," she said proudly.
Kael groaned. "I'm improving."
"You're becoming dangerous," she teased. "Last time, the vegetables almost ran away."
He laughed… and for a moment, everything felt normal.
After she finished eating, Kael cleaned the container and helped her lie back down. Her breathing slowed as she drifted toward sleep.
"Kael…" she mumbled.
"Yes?"
"You'll do great."
He squeezed her hand gently. "Rest, Mom."
Her eyes finally closed.
Kael stood and walked to the window, looking out at the glittering city. The Veilgate Tower glowed like a second sun, pulsing rhythmically with power.
One month.
In one month, he would stand before that gate with thousands of other seventeen-year-olds.
In one month, he would either:
Gain a spirit
Gain power
And gain the chance to save his mother
Or he would join the countless who never made it back.
The thought twisted in his chest.
Kael placed his hand against the window, looking at the swirling light of the Gate.
"I'll make it," he whispered.
"I have to."
For her sake.
For their future.
For everything he had left.