There was a lie humans often told themselves; the greatest lie.

All humans are born equal.

That was the delusion most wanted to believe, striving to become somebody else when in reality, they could be nobody but themselves. That wasn’t necessarily a weakness; the difference in natural skills, configuration and ability didn’t have to be a weakness.

However, Ian knew clearly where his strengths fell flat. A Guide couldn’t easily defeat a monster like this, estimated A-class, but its size gave the illusion of an S-class. The serpent’s limited movements lowered its level.

A Guide could exist without an Esper, but an Esper could not exist without their Guide. This limitation was the drawback of those who developed psychic abilities—what tethered them to the mundane world.

Espers, an important tool to civilization, were granted the highest priority. Guides, who did not need to coexist with Espers, were degraded for the sake of the other.

Ian once hated that he’d developed into a Guide, that his biology made him lesser. But wallowing in self-pity nailed him to place; any development he could make, he didn’t—and what a waste of time that was.

There were things only he could do; tools he could utilize.

Ian stared at the looming shadow as a wave of despair washed over him. Here, his inability choked him. Frustration burned in his limbs as he darted sideways, rolled to the ground and narrowly avoided the razor teeth.

“What the hell are you standing around for?!” He roared. A commanding voice erupted from his throat and demanded attention. “Are you waiting for your deaths?!”

The Guides, that had been staring at him shell-shocked, snapped out of their stupor. They brandished their weapons and attacked, not daring to escape after watching the tragedy that befell their comrade.

They weren’t soldiers; they weren’t primed to stand at the front lines. They were trained to be supports, proficient enough to survive in the Rift without becoming a hindrance.

At this moment, there was no time to pray for help.

Their expressions quickly changed as they charged. One leaped backward, raising a metal crossbow and closing one eye. They fell like volleys as the others slashed at the serpent every time it slammed down, leaving a few seconds for close combat.

Ian continued pivoting, spinning in the air and firing his gun at critical moments, but his energy rapidly depleted.

There were no signs of the monster’s core.

Destroying a core was the easiest method for either Guides or humans to kill a monster, while Esper’s had the ability to completely annihilate them.

They would either be eaten by the monster, or exhaust all their energy and then be eaten. The other Guides had neared him, all fighting together to combat the monster.

Ian stepped to the side, every muscle tensed as he prepared to dodge again.

Then, a pair of hands lightly pushed his back.

His movements stumbled as the monster opened his jaw, revealed the terrible mouth and rushed towards him. Ian managed to twist his body—meeting the guilty gaze of another Guide.

To save one, sometimes a sacrifice had to be made.

Only, the one sacrificed never expected it.

Further into the forest, Lucian finally broke through the clearing. His voice rang out, shouting a single name over and over like a mantra.

“Ian! Ian! Run, Ian, move! Please—!”

Ian couldn’t hear any of it.

“Ian—!”

His eyes rolled up, seeing the fleshy insides of the throat as it charged down. In a last attempt, he thrust the gun up, firing several shots. Saliva drenched his body, crumpled and squished in the convulsing walls as the wretched stench filled his nose.

The serpent’s mouth rumbled in pain with the shots, swallowing in an instant without chewing.

Ian cursed, curling his body as he pushed through the rolling throat, landing in a dark pit. Objects, soft and tender, pressed underneath, and small fragments clung to his skin and clothes.

He coughed, spitting as pain wracked his body and darkness surrounded.

Ian slowly looked around, his gaze adjusting slightly. Was this the serpent’s stomach?

If it was, he would have a certain amount of time before he was digested. His mind worked quickly, adapted to the situation and temporarily placed aside the betrayal.

There was a throbbing pain in his stomach, and he vaguely groped for any impaled objects but found nothing. His outfit slicked to his body, drowned in bodily fluids.

He resisted the urge to gag, ignoring the dull ache. The significance of pain had long dulled in the years. Pain, he could endure. Failure, he could not.

A glowing ember sparked in his peripheral and he froze, standing in the sea of juices and half-digested flesh. Ian focused his attention and he felt it—a small heartbeat, the pulse of life energy radiating from the monster’s core.

He trudged through the sludge, his vision blurring at the corners. It was underneath the mass sludge.

He didn’t hesitate, bending down as he shoved his arm into the warm, itching liquid. It lapped around him as he rummaged through various sensations, slipping through and under his fingers.

He bent deeper, palming the strange and flexible walls of flesh, leaning down as his cheek pressed against the dense liquid.

All his senses were overwhelmed, but his fingers twitched.

The tip grazed against a smooth, solid surface beating rapidly with energy.

Energy thrummed at the tip of his fingers, slowly trickling into his hand. Ian’s eyes widened slightly as he curled his hand, grasping at the thin strands that were leaking from the core.

He gasped, realization filling his dark stare. The energy was similar to the one found in an Esper—it could be controlled.

He thrust his other hand down, resisting the urge to retch as a floating hand drifted by his waist. Briefly, it clung to his belt as if desperate to hold onto life, before floating away.

The flow of energy wasn’t simple; he couldn’t get a good grasp on the surface of the core.

Ian took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air as his nose tingled with disgust at the stench, and he submerged himself completely in the liquid, placing both palms flat against the surface.

His eyes were tightly squeezed as he evoked chaos in the crystal, forcing the energy to explode, swirling like a tornado. The liquid around him bubbled and boiled, the scent of burning flesh slowly filling his surroundings.

The core continued to burn hotter, climbing to terrible, scorching heats as Ian felt his skin turn red and blistered.

Energy wounds were different—they were internal. Ian knew it, felt it when that Esper rejected his energy manipulation, how his insides burned. This was a level he’d never known; couldn’t have imagined.

Finally, it reached its peak—the core could no longer contain the manic energy. It shook, trembling lightly at first, before vibrating intensely.

The water crashed around, colliding with floating objects and rebounding through the air. Ian yanked his hands away, kicking his legs as he dove away.

His heart hammered wildly, beating through his ears as it filled the cavity of his mind. Faster, faster—!

He needed to be further away.

Behind, the core reached its highest vibration frequency before it erupted. Flesh splattered through the hole in the serpent’s stomach, chunks dropping into the lake as the body swayed once, then twice, and collapsed on the surface.

Ian felt his body being dragged with the torrent, spilling out of the hole. His entire body ached, pain etching in every cell to the point he couldn’t tell if he was in extreme pain or numbness.

The impact of the body on the lake caused water to surge out, pushing Ian along with various body parts and materials to the ground.

Lucian, who watched from the outside as the serpent’s movements grew sluggish, vaguely hearing the sound of boiling water in the depths of its stomach, rushed towards the flooded body.

When his skin made contact with the liquid, it burned as if he’d been splashed with hot water, but the burn did not impact his skin.

His lips pursed, confusion knitting his eyebrows. However, the confusion quickly dispersed as Ian gasped, coughing violently as his body rolled over, covered in small scratches.

There was a large wound in his stomach, bleeding profusely. Lucian hurriedly applied pressure, tearing his uniform to tightly wedge a wad of cloth.

“Ian,” he exhaled.

Ian could barely open his eyes, feeling hands lift his body. He stiffened, but couldn’t muster the energy to roll away. Power continued to simmer at his fingers, lightly beating in his veins like a distant flutter of steady wings.

The power to destroy a high-level monster.

The power to go beyond the assumed capabilities of a Guide.

His fingers twitched—out of excitement or fear, it remained unknown—and although entering a monster’s stomach to reach the core wouldn’t always be feasible—

—suddenly the darkness and fog that had long drifted over his chosen pathway parted, revealing a faraway sliver of light that ushered new hope into his life.

He allowed his consciousness to drift as his arm slumped, falling limp into the arms holding him.

He would likely not wake today, but tomorrow was another day.

‘I remember you.’

There he stood, gazing at the vast wide world. Before, he could only watch from a window, imprisoned by a glass plane called reality. Soon, that glass would shatter at his feet, revealing an open pathway where he could stand freely.

‘And I’ll return to you, all that you deserve.’