Outer Heliodor
Valemont Dukedom
September 21st
2060
It's been three days since Ishmael left his apartment. He had reached Low Second Ascension after encountering his fair share of Incursions, and the city, it was no longer a city.
It was a fracture pretending to still function.
Some buildings stood, while others collapsed, Blood and corpses littered the streets and abandoned vehicles were a common sight.
The air felt heavier the deeper Ishmael walked.
Not pressure.
Presence.
Something watching without eyes.
Ishmael moved steadily. A backpack containing things he scavenged was strapped to his back.
Step by step.
Katana resting lightly at his waist.
His expression unchanged.
Cold Grey eyes scanning everything without urgency.
Just awareness.
"…The whole world really did go to shit."
His Spirit Core answered him from inside his chest.
Not pain.
Not warning.
Just a reaction.
A reminder
Like something inside him had learned the rhythm of this broken world.
He exhaled once.
"…Guess I'll see what's left of it."
And kept walking.
——————
The closer Ishmael got to the border of the Valemont Dukedom and the Bane Dukedom the quieter it became.
Not safer.
Just…emptier.
The usual noise of chaos, screams, crashes, distant fighting, faded into something dull and stretched. Like sound itself was being pulled toward a single point.
"That's not normal," Ishmael said calmly
He slowed his steps.
His eyes scanned the street.
Abandoned vehicles.
Shattered glass.
No bodies.
That was the strange part.
There should have been bodies.
Instead, there was nothing.
A faint pulse brushed against his chest.
Not his.
Something ahead.
Calling.
Responding.
Ishmael exhaled slowly.
"Guess that's the direction."
He turned the corner.
And stopped.
The world ahead…was wrong.
Space itself looked distorted.
Like heat rising off asphalt, but colder. Heavier. The air bent inward toward a single point in the middle of the street.
A tear. A literal tear in space. The one you'd see in a video game. Gates as they call it.
A circular distortion, a rift about three meters tall, flickering between existence and absence. Edges unstable. The space around it cracking faintly like glass under pressure.
And around it—
Nothing.
No movement.
No people.
Just silence.
"Haaaa….of course"
"So that's a gate."
The system flickered instantly.
[Ascension Zone Detected]
[Classification: Unstable — Early / Forced Manifestation]
[Recommended Action: Avoid]
Ishmael stared at it.
"…yeah, too late for that"
The pull grew stronger.
Both physical and Instinctual.
The same feeling as before.
Like something inside him was reacting.
Curious.
Or answering.
He stepped closer.
The ground beneath his feet felt…lighter.
Like gravity wasn't fully committed anymore.
"…this is definitely a bad idea."
He kept walking.
A sound broke the silence.
A low, wet shift.
Ishmael's eyes snapped to the side.
Something moved.
Not from the gate.
From the shadows nearby.
A figure stepped out slowly.
Then another.
Then three more.
Incursions.
But a little different from the first one he encountered.
Their bodies were warped but fully stabilized. Metal didn't just fuse with flesh….it became flesh.
Their movement weren't instinctive anymore but more Controlled.
More than the one he fought before.
The system flickered again.
[Incursion Detected]
[Type: Mid- Second Ascension]
[Threat Level: Moderate]
"Stronger too and it seems like they're guarding it."
The nearest one tilted its head.
Then—
They all moved at once.
Fast.
Ishmael stepped forward.
No hesitation.
Katana drawn.
CLANG.
First strike met metal.
He adjusted instantly.
Different from before.
Stronger.
Heavier.
The Incursion pushed back harder.
Its arm reshaped slightly—metal enlarging, reinforcing.
Ishmael slid back half a step.
"…yeah, you're not the same."
Another one attacked from the side.
He twisted, blade coated in silver energy cutting across its torso.
This time—
It cut.
Not clean.
But enough.
The creature staggered.
"…better."
The Spirit Energy in his core responded again.
Reinforcing him.
He didn't force it.
He guided it.
Slash.
Block.
Turn.
The fight escalated quickly.
Three against one.
No wasted movement.
No room to breathe.
One caught his arm.
Another slammed into his side.
Pain flared.
He gritted his teeth.
"…still annoying."
He stepped back sharply.
Breathing heavier now.
The Incursions regrouped.
Not mindless.
They were learning.
Adjusting spacing.
Angles.
"…great. Smarter too."
One rushed him head-on.
Ishmael lowered his stance.
The Spirit Energy in his core flared wildly as he coated both his blade and his legs.
He took a step forward, vanishing from the creature's view for a split second. And that was enough.
Split.
The first Incursion froze.
Then collapsed. Efficiently decapitated.
Seeing this the others hesitated.
Just for a second.
Ishmael didn't waste it.
He stepped in again.
Second strike.
Then third.
Messy.
Imperfect.
But enough.
The last one lunged wildly.
No coordination now.
He sidestepped.
Cut clean through its neck.
Silence returned.
Ishmael stood still for a moment.
Breathing steadying.
Blood on his sleeve.
Katana lowered.
"…I'm getting used to this."
The system flickered again.
[Multiple Incursions Eliminated]
[Spirit Energy Absorbed]
He exhaled.
"Good to know."
Then—
He looked back at the gate.
It pulsed once.
Stronger now.
The distortion widened slightly.
Something moved inside it.
Not clearly.
But enough to feel.
Ishmael's eyes narrowed.
"Is something coming through?" He muttered curiously
The air grew heavier.
The pull stronger.
His instincts screamed two things at once:
Leave.
Step closer.
The gate reacted.
The distortion sharpened.
The space inside it darkened—
Then something pressed against the other side.
A silhouette.
Large.
Unclear.
Watching.
Ishmael stopped.
"Yeah. That's not something I fight right now."
For once—
He listened to his instincts.
He stepped back.
Then turned.
"Home first."
Behind him—
The gate pulsed again.
Wider.
Stronger.
Then it sucked him in, vanishing without a trace.