“What the Hell is happening?!!” Mine shouted, his head spinning as Addai sprinted through the chaos.

“There are Imps controlling humans’ minds, turning them into freaks!” Addai yelled back, narrowly dodging a mischief spell crackling through the air.

Mine tried to look back, but he saw a mess of piled human corpses and red in what was once a calm wagon. His mind refused to believe it was real. The more he felt the smells and heat around him – as well as Addai’s pulsing adrenaline – his brain admitted the harsh reality.

Addai was agile and fast, something Mine couldn’t imagine. His body weaved effortlessly through the chaos, dodging flailing limbs and leaping over fallen bodies. He cut through the frenzied crowd of mind-controlled humans, snarling Imps, and corpses with an almost unnatural ease, his every motion as sharp as his eyes. Mine couldn’t help but clutch into Addai’s shirt a bit more.

The sharp crack of shattering glass split the air as Addai barreled through the carriage door. However, he didn’t stop. There was no time to look back—only forward, where more mind-controlled bodies lurched toward him under the Imps' command.

Then, without warning, the windows of the new carriage exploded. Shielding Mine with his own body, Addai ignored the glass shards piercing his skin and continued to run. The Imps howled their shrill and maddening laughter. They rejoiced at the sight of Addai’s wounds and his curses. The more he spat his rage, the louder they shrieked in amusement.

 Mine barely lifted his head, enough to glance over Addai’s shoulder—only to see the glint of a speeding bullet slicing through the chaos, heading straight for them. The bullet then flickered into a ray with acidic sharpness. It was, actually, a spell.

Mine wriggled uncomfortably in Addai’s arms, who grabbed him more to avoid his fall. Annoyed, Addai argued, “Stop moving!”

But Mine made his way to wrap his arms around Addai’s neck, “Watch out, dumbass!!” He argued back.

Mine’s skin glimmered and glowing patterns surfaced across his arms and hands. When his hair faintly glowed, a mana shield formed on his forearm, deflecting the bullet spell before it could strike their backs. The recoil slightly burned Mine’s forearm, but he didn’t care. Not only did the recoil burn something in Mine, but the dense air they had just cut through had specks of miasma traces, which caused Mine to cough and cover his nose.

“Cough cough! Where are we heading to?” Mine asked mid coughs.

“To the commander’s wagon. We’re too far from the ground and any wrong move could kill all of us in a heartbeat,” Addai replied, placing a hand on Mine’s head. “Hide on my shoulder. Avoid breathing the miasma.”

The run was now bumpy. Stepping onto the uneven surface – half-soft, half-hard – Addai finally reached the next wagon’s door and slammed it shut behind him. It was calmer, and there were only a few scattered bodies on the floor and seats. Gasping for air, he carefully placed Mine on the floor. Then, he raised his chin, checking if he was contaminated with miasma, but he wasn’t.

“Alright, now…” Addai took Mine’s hand, “Let’s keep moving. This wagon isn’t safe either.”

“Hm,” Mine nodded, rubbing his eyes.

The purplish filter still disturbed his vision and created a remarkable contrast with the swirling miasma dust in the air. Luckily, no Imp was found ahead. However, just as they reached the wagon’s door, Mine felt an odd, cold breeze brush against his neck.

The core, it whistled. Mine turned back to see who– or what it was, but nothing could be found except for the same wagon they were in.

The core is close. Take it. You must, it whispered, now closer to Mine’s ears. Mine dazed. His head was light, and the weird, unsettling voice was clear enough, so, he kept listening. It’s a curse. Break it. Take it.

 “Hey, is everything alright?” Addai called, patting Mine’s cheeks.

Back from the odd dazing, Mine felt his body again and, annoyed, looked at Addai, “I’m okay. It was just a headache.”

"Hm, I hope so," Addai said, continuing to walk while holding Mine’s hand.

Marching forward, Mine felt his head buzzing again and the voice engulfed his senses. His limbs faltered as if they'd been dislocated, but he was sure everything was in its right place. His back hurt– no, it burned.

Slowing his steps, Mine heard an increasing, acute buzzing. Then, suddenly a light beam almost blinded them, followed by a loud cracking sound bursting their ears. The previous wagon fell from the ferry, bending the current wagon they were.

“Shit!” Addai cursed and tightened the grip on Mine’s hand.

They ran to the wagon’s door, but it was regrettably closed. Addai forced his way in, but the door didn’t even flinch. However, it was enough to get the attention of whoever was in the other carriage.

“Jesus!” a voice inside the other wagon exclaimed. "You two are clean! Enter!" the person unlocked the door.

Mine almost couldn't get through because his legs gave out, and Addai had to grab him. The wagon seemed safe, though the Imps outside reminded them of the situation they were in as well as the bent railway.

The person who opened the door locked it again with a strange device. “It’s a temporary safety measure I did. We use this little guy here to lock violent patients’ rooms,” he explained, adjusting the device that sealed the door. “Ah! I’m Nakamura, a humble doctor. If you need any assistance, I’m glad to help,” he grinned, dark circles from the lack of sleep telling him his lifestyle was a mess.

“Thank you, Mister,” Addai bowed.

Their surroundings were no better than the previous wagons, but at least some people were still alive—barely. Some were scared, while others sat in shock, clutching bloodstained fabric against their gruesome bruises. With the last wagon on the verge of collapse and the next one infested with Imps, the survivors were trapped. Not everybody was a warrior, or skilled in magic like Mine and Addai. But they alone wouldn’t be enough—they could easily be outnumbered by the Imps. It was risky and reckless.

They had nowhere to go.

Mine sat on an empty seat, wondering how they’d go through the next wagon safely when the same sharp headache struck again. This time, it wasn’t just his head—it felt like his hands were on fire.

You must act. Now!! The same voice from earlier screamed in Mine’s mind, repeating over and over.

Gradually, it became louder and more disturbing. His thoughts fractured, and his mind no longer worked—he sank into agony once more. With each word, a pain in a different place. It was as if they were tearing him from the inside out, eliminating every layer of the body, from the dermis to the organs.

Suddenly, the voice stopped. His surroundings became strangely peaceful, and Mine only heard two voices.

“What’s going on?!” Mr. Nakamura worried, and the remaining survivors started panicking.

“Are you okay?” Addai asked, placing his hands on Mine’s cheeks. His appearance wasn't good. Mine was pale and had darker spots under his eyes, maybe due to the exposition of the miasma in the past wagon. Addai slowly lifted his friend’s face and Mine slightly nodded affirmatively. “You’re a bad liar,” he scoffed. “Stay with Mr. Nakamura and the others, I’ll clear the next wagon.”

Mine, coming back from his agonizing daze, frowned his nose, “Alone?” he asked.

“As if you’d be useful in this state,” Addai reprimanded, but his tone wasn’t stern. “Stay. I’m tough, don’t worry–”

“AHHHH!!!” A woman screamed.

The Imps from the next wagon were breaking the windows with their claws. Some of them, using humans’ skins, howled maniacally at the frightened people, staining the glass with red. Mr. Nakamura, holding a pipe, slammed one of the Imps’ heads, crushing their skull.

“RUN EVERYBODY!” Mr. Nakamura yelled.

Chaos consumed the once-tense wagon. Imps dragged the weaker ones outside, tossing their battered bodies aside, while others fought desperately with whatever they could grab. Bloodstained every surface and the thick miasma dust burned skin and choked the air. Running was futile—whether Imp or human, something would crush you.

Addai shielded Mine with his body when an Imp attempted to slash and drag him outside as it did to the others. Mine wasn’t responding, all he did was daze and groan in pain. Then Addai took another hit. He hissed as fresh blood dripped to the floor, his back searing with agony. Mine slowly lifted his head, looking at Addai’s agonized face, he was sweating and biting his lips, muting his painful screams while he shielded Mine. Addai bit his lower lips so much they bled, and one blood drop lazily traveled Mine’s cheek and chin until hitting the wagon’s floor.

When the drop hit the floor, everything around Mine stopped. Suddenly, he was sober. The once purple filter gradually turned into pure gold, just like Golden Hour. He raised a hand and brushed the blood from Addai’s lips, loosening the biting with his thumb.

Let’s be one, little Chronos, the voice from earlier whispered as if it tried to seduce him.

Something tore through Mine’s back, splitting his skin as if he were shedding a cocoon. A thin, glowing veil spread over his shoulders, and a sudden breeze sent his hair drifting, weightless as if submerged underwater. His face tingled, his hands burned, and his body felt strangely light.

Then he stood. His once peach-colored skin cracked and flaked away, peeling like thick, dried gouache paint.