The enforcer shoved Ren aside and turned to the terrified woman and child, barking at them to get lost. Moments ter, he and the bearded thug disappeared from the square, hauling their containers with them.

  The crowd remained silent. The air hung heavy with unspoken tension. Ren could feel their stares—some filled with sympathy, others with quiet bme, as if it was his fault they had all been put at risk. Most, however, simply looked away, unwilling to get involved.

  Kazik rushed over, his face pale with fear and anger.

  "Are you insane?! They could’ve killed you!" he hissed, gncing around nervously.

  Ren wiped the blood from his cheek. "I couldn’t just stand there... not when something like that happens."

  Kazik gritted his teeth. "I know... I’m sick of it too. But if we keep shing out like this, they’ll finish us off. Next time, they won’t stop at a punch. They’ll shoot you."

  Ren clenched his trembling fists and nodded, the bitter weight of helplessness sinking into his chest. Kazik sighed.

  "Come on. Let’s clean you up. I’ll share my water with you."

  Soon, Ren was crouched by a bucket, holding a dented metal cup. His ration had been cut—probably out of fear from the young worker at the stand—but it was enough. A few sips eased his thirst. He used the rest to wash his face. The cold water dulled the sting on his bruised cheek. He cleaned the split corner of his mouth, where a thin trickle of blood still lingered. The icy water offered momentary relief, but it couldn’t reach the deeper pain lodged in his chest.

  For a second, his reflection stared back at him in the rippling water: a pale face, wide eyes filled with shame, rage, and... fear. The same look he’d worn that day. He tried to shove the memory away, but it was too te. The dam broke.

  That day.

  The memory smmed into him with vivid, merciless force.

  It had been a year ago—back when the world had only begun to understand the horror of the Gates. That evening, a strange greenish aurora had split the sky over the city. Ren had stood on the doorstep next to his father, looking up.

  "What is that?" he had asked, voice trembling. His father only pulled him close, having no answer.

  Then the ground shook. A sound like thunder echoed in the distance. His mother ran out, clutching little Hania by the hand. The girl was already crying. Their mother wrapped herself around her protectively. The air reeked of ozone, like lightning had struck nearby.

  Down the street, a glowing vertical crack hovered above the pavement—shimmering with eerie violet and green light. A Gate. From within came a sound not meant for this world—a chorus of guttural growls, yered and wrong. People screamed. Panic erupted.

  The first creature fell through. It had sleek bck skin, walked on two limbs, but looked like something between a man and a starving wolf. Its yellow eyes scanned the chaos hungrily. More monsters poured out behind it.

  The first pounced on a fleeing woman. Her scream ripped through the air as cws tore into her back. Blood spttered across the pavement. Chaos exploded. A neighbor charged in with an axe but didn’t get the chance to swing—it took a second creature mere moments to bring him down.

  "Inside! Now!" Ren’s father shouted, pushing him toward the front door. Their mother turned too, dragging Hania.

  The family burst into the hallway of their old building, smming the door behind them. Ren’s heart pounded like a drum. Only their ragged breathing and Hania’s sobs filled the dim corridor.

  "Daddy, what is it?" Hania whimpered.

  Their father didn’t have time to answer. A massive blow rattled the doorframe. Then another—the door broke off its hinges with a deafening crack, sending a cloud of dust inside. A beast stood in the doorway, lips curled into a cruel grin.

  "Run!" their father bellowed, stepping between the monster and his family.

  Ren, his mother, and Hania backed away. The bck figure lunged. A flurry of movement—and cws sshed into their father’s side. His scream echoed through the stairwell.

  "Nooo!" their mother cried, but he was already falling, blood pooling beneath him.

  The beast raised its bloodied maw and charged. Their mother yanked Ren and Hania toward the stairs.

  "To the roof, go!" she gasped, but halted halfway up. A crash of gss above—another creature had broken in from a window upstairs, blocking their path.

  She scanned the hallway in desperation. There—a window on the nding. Without hesitation, she ran to it and threw it open.

  "Ren, take Hania!" she shouted, lifting the girl. "Get out! Now!"

  "I’m not leaving you!" Ren cried.

  "Jump!" she screamed, then shoved them both out just as the monsters reached the stairs.

  They tumbled from the first floor onto a pile of debris. Ren’s breath left him in a gasp. Pain shot through his arm. Hania whimpered, but she was mostly unharmed thanks to his shield.

  He struggled upright, his mind a blur. Inside, screams—his mother’s voice—echoed. Then Hania pulled free and bolted.

  "Mama!" she cried, rounding the building toward the street.

  "Hania, stop!" Ren shouted, chasing after her, ignoring the searing pain.

  He reached the intersection seconds behind her—and froze.

  The Gate still glowed in the street, surrounded by fallen civilians and soldiers who had come too te. Two monsters were retreating into it, each carrying their prey. One held the limp body of their mother. The other dragged a struggling bundle—Hania!

  She must have reached their mother first—he saw her tiny fists pounding against the beast’s leg. The monster grabbed her like a rag doll. She screamed and kicked, filing in terror.

  "Mom! Hania!" Ren ran toward them, screaming until his throat burned.

  He sprinted over broken ground, heart smming. Just a few more steps—he could see Hania’s eyes, brimming with tears, her hand reaching out...

  Something smmed into him from the side. A third beast. It tackled him, defending the others. He saw a blur of bck, then pain exploded across his face. Cws tore through his skin.

  Ren hit the ground hard. He tried to crawl, to reach out—but his body gave out. Through a haze of blood, he saw the monsters step into the Gate, his mother and sister in their grasp.

  Then—a fsh. The Gate vanished.

  Silence fell. Only the distant wail of sirens lingered.

  Ren colpsed fully, life draining from him with each drop of blood. He wanted to scream, to run, to fight—but the world faded into bck.

  A hand shook him.

  "Ren... Ren! Can you hear me?" Kazik’s voice. He stood close, worry etched across his face. "You zoned out. I’ve been calling you."

  Ren blinked. He was still by the water bucket in the square. Most people had dispersed. His cheek throbbed where the enforcer had struck him. The taste of blood and dust coated his tongue.

  "Sorry," he muttered, still half-lost. He wiped his face and realized his eyes were wet. He lowered his head, angry at himself for slipping like that.

  Kazik didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned in and whispered, "Something’s happening. People are talking. Another Gate opened st night—out near the old suburbs."

  Ren’s heart skipped a beat.

  "They sent a team this morning, but... the word is, they didn’t come back. Now the Council’s calling a meeting. They’re asking for volunteers."

  "Volunteers?" Ren echoed, tension creeping into his voice. "They want to send regur people into a Gate? What about the army? The Gatekeepers?"

  Kazik scoffed. "Gatekeepers... like they care about us. Supposedly this one’s worse than normal. They already lost soldiers in there. Don’t want to lose more."

  He lowered his voice further. "Easier to send people like us. The ones who don’t matter. If we die, who cares?"

  Ren said nothing. Images of his mother and sister, vanishing into the Gate, burned in his mind. He clenched the pendant in his pocket so hard it cut into his skin.

  Kazik kept talking. "Meeting’s tomorrow at noon by the mess hall. Council reps will be there. Probably promising extra rations or something. And if no one volunteers..."

  He didn’t need to finish. They both knew what came next.

  "They’ll pick someone. And call it volunteering."