taliyas-stories24

[taliyas-stories24]

[taliyas-stories24]

Chapter 3 of the twenty one pilots inspired story I'm writing!

Again give me any advice / criticisms / kudos

Title: Fractured Path

Words: 5,081

Genre: Dystopian Fiction

TW: Control, paranoia, memory loss

As Caius left his quarters that morning, he kept his gaze low, feeling the weight of the Veil’s presence even in the quiet spaces between buildings. The fragments of his nightmare clung to him, sharp and vivid. His knuckles still ached, a reminder of the mirror he’d shattered just hours ago. He could still picture his face scattered across the floor in jagged pieces.

Walking through the city, he became acutely aware of the glances people threw his way—quick, furtive looks that seemed to follow him in clusters. Guards stationed at each corner watched him with a peculiar intensity, their eyes lingering a second too long. There was an edge to everything now, a sense that something had shifted beneath the surface.

As he turned down a narrow alleyway, Caius heard footsteps behind him. He tensed, resisting the urge to look back, but the feeling prickled up his spine until he couldn’t ignore it. When he finally stole a glance, he saw nothing but an empty street.

Continuing on, he suddenly felt a hand brush his arm. Startled, he jerked to the side, but it was just a street vendor passing him a small, crumpled piece of cloth along with a whispered, "For luck." Caius’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but the vendor’s face held a practiced calm. Caius pocketed the cloth and walked on without a word, his heart pounding against his ribs.

When he was a safe distance away, he glanced around and unfolded the cloth. Inside was a tightly folded slip of paper, with neat but small handwriting scrawled across it:

"Things aren’t always what they seem, Caius. Be wary of the shadows that walk beside you."

He felt a strange, icy chill creep through him, but before he could process the note, his phone vibrated sharply in his pocket. The guard on the line informed him he’d be due for an early evaluation—a routine procedure, they called it, though Caius knew better than to think it routine. The evaluation would mean hours under the Veil’s scrutiny, with no room for mistakes.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Even the buildings seemed to close in, their windows dark and blank, as if concealing hundreds of unseen eyes.

Turning a corner, he nearly ran into another guard—someone he vaguely recognized. She seemed out of place, her gaze furtive as she glanced both ways before looking at him. Her voice dropped low as she whispered, “They’re watching you closely, Caius. Just… be careful.” She cast him one last look, as if considering whether to say more, then disappeared back into the crowd before he could ask her anything.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of unease, his senses sharpening with every step he took.

Later, as he walked back through the city’s alleys, his mind replaying the cryptic note and the guard’s warning, he felt an odd blankness settle over him. Time seemed to stutter, each second stretching and then collapsing in on itself, and when he finally came to his senses, he was no longer sure where he was. The street was unfamiliar, the people around him strangers, and his hands—he looked down to find a slip of fabric clutched in his palm, though he couldn’t remember picking it up.

He shivered, pushing the fabric into his pocket and quickly walking away. The whisper from the note echoed in his mind: “Be wary of the shadows that walk beside you.”

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was right at his heels, following just out of sight.

Caius stared at the slip of fabric in his hand, its tattered edges catching faint streetlight. He could still see the deep green stitching—an odd, quiet defiance that seemed to pulse against his skin. He swallowed, nerves tightening as he recalled the guard’s suspicious tone earlier. The Veil didn’t take kindly to secrets.

Without a second thought, he looked around and slipped the fabric into the depths of a trash barrel, covering it hastily with scraps and rubble. A strange, inexplicable heaviness filled his chest, like he’d just buried a piece of himself along with it. But he forced himself to shake off the feeling and continued walking.

The further he went, the harder it became to focus, his steps slowing as a dark, murky sensation washed over him. His vision began to blur, and a prickling sensation spread across his hands, the skin darkening as if shadowed from within. Caius clenched his fists, jaw tightening as he tried to will it away, but the darkness seemed to grow stronger, overtaking his limbs, his mind, until everything dimmed.

When his awareness returned, he found himself standing at a street corner, looking out across a quiet square with no memory of how he got there. He blinked, his mind disoriented, as if he’d been asleep with his eyes open. His fists unclenched slowly, and he felt something cold trickling down his arm—a faint smear of black streaking from his wrist, fading into his skin.

He shivered, fear twisting in his gut as he glanced around, half-expecting someone to approach, someone who might have seen whatever had just happened. But the streets were empty, and no one was watching. Only the deep silence of the city surrounded him.

Caius felt a sudden chill in the stillness of the night air. The quiet streets stretched out before him, bathed in a faint, cold glow from the streetlights. A faint sound—a soft rustling of fabric—pulled his attention to the shadows ahead.

Nimara appeared, stepping forward with an unsettling grace, her dark coat blending into the night as if she were part of it. Her expression was unreadable, her gaze cutting through the dimness to settle directly on him. He instinctively straightened, trying to clear his mind of the haze that had settled over him.

“Quite late for a stroll, Caius,” she said softly, her voice slipping through the quiet like a whisper. There was an eerie calmness to her tone, a lightness that suggested neither threat nor kindness, just an unsettling neutrality. “What brings you out here?”

Caius opened his mouth to answer, but the words died in his throat. He wasn’t sure how to respond—he could hardly explain why he was here himself. He felt her gaze sharpen, her eyes taking in every detail: his stiff stance, the dried streak of black along his wrist.

She took a step closer, reaching out, her fingers brushing his hand with a touch that was both light and precise. “You look… disoriented,” she observed, tilting her head slightly. “As if you’ve been wandering through shadows.”

“I—” Caius’s voice cracked, and he forced himself to clear his throat. “I just needed some air,” he said, though the excuse felt feeble even to him. “Nothing more.”

“Is that so?” Nimara’s lips curved in a small smile, unreadable. Her gaze drifted over him, lingering briefly on the edge of his sleeve, where he’d tried to cover the faint trace of black. Her fingers grazed his wrist again, almost as if inspecting, before she let her hand fall. “You know… wandering alone, without purpose, can lead to… distractions.”

She stepped back, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Best to remember that the Veil sees and guides all things here, Caius. We wouldn’t want anyone getting lost in those shadows.”

Her words were spoken lightly, but a chill traced down his spine, her reminder lingering like a threat wrapped in silk.

“Right,” he said, giving a slow nod, his voice quieter. “Of course.”

Nimara’s gaze softened, if only slightly, and she leaned closer, her tone dropping to a murmur. “The Veil offers clarity, strength… security. Something I think you’d benefit from,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She lingered a moment more, then straightened, a trace of something calculating glinting in her eyes.

“Be sure to rest,” she said simply, her gaze locking with his for one last, weighted moment. Then, just as quietly as she’d appeared, she turned, her figure slipping back into the shadows, leaving Caius alone with only the thin chill of her words pressing down around him.

Caius sat alone in his quarters, his mind heavy with the unsettling feeling Nimara had left behind. The room was eerily silent, and he found himself staring at the chipped paint on the walls, lost in thought. Just as he started to drift, an image flashed in his mind—a brief, searing memory.

He was back in the field outside the fracture, surrounded by bodies. The smell of ash and cold metal filled his senses as he looked down to find his hands stained red, and black. He remembered crouching over one of the fallen, a flicker of recognition in their glassy eyes just before they faded. This person—who were they to him? The memory fractured, scattering like smoke, leaving Caius with only a hollow feeling and unanswered questions.

Blinking, he realized his hands were gripping the sides of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were bone-white. He took a shaky breath, trying to shake off the echo of the vision. But just as he did, his gaze fell on something sticking out from under his cot—a small, tattered notebook he’d never seen before. It was dog-eared, its cover worn smooth, as if it had been handled often.

Slowly, he reached for it, feeling a strange familiarity as his fingers brushed the cover. Opening it, he found pages filled with rough sketches, erratic scribbles, and symbols he recognized from the abandoned town. Circles crossed with X’s, arrows pointing into nothingness, and phrases like “They are watching” scrawled in an almost desperate hand.

Each page was like a glimpse into a mind spiraling, consumed by an unknown force. But the handwriting was his own, unmistakably. Caius felt his pulse quicken. He had no memory of writing any of it.

As Caius sat on the floor, thumbing through the worn pages, a slow dread settled over him. The scrawled words seemed like fragments of thoughts half-formed, trailing off as if the writer—himself, he reminded himself with a shiver—had forgotten what they’d been trying to say.

He flipped to a page near the back, and there, the words were clearer: “They control what you see, what you remember. The shadows know.”

A chill ran down his spine. The shadows know? It was a phrase he couldn’t recall ever thinking, yet here it was, written in his own hand, seeping with desperation. The longer he stared at it, the less it made sense, and yet...it felt true, somehow.

The next page was filled with circles—dark, heavy circles drawn over and over in black ink, growing messier with each pass, as if he’d tried to erase whatever was at the center. For a moment, he thought he could almost remember drawing them. A sensation washed over him, a kind of fevered urgency, his hand gripping the pen as he frantically worked. But the memory faded before he could grasp it.

“The shadows know.” The words rang in his head, louder now, refusing to leave him.

Caius slammed the notebook shut, his heart hammering. He stumbled to his feet, crossing the room and shoving the notebook deep into his desk drawer, as if hiding it would bury whatever was scratching at his mind. He stared at the drawer for a long moment, half-expecting the notebook to burst open and reveal the truth he’d been so close to touching.

But the room was still. The only sounds were his unsteady breaths and the quiet hum of the city beyond his walls. He took a steadying breath, willing the unease to settle, but it lingered like a shadow, refusing to let him go.

Caius couldn't sleep. The remnants of the strange memory, the journal's cryptic sketches, and the words "The shadows know" kept replaying in his mind. Restless, he found himself pacing his quarters, the strange urgency gnawing at him, pulling him back to the notebook he’d just hidden. Against his better judgment, he opened the drawer and pulled it out, flipping through the pages one by one, searching for… something. Anything that might make sense of the chaos in his mind.

Then he saw it, scrawled at the edge of a page filled with cryptic shapes and frantic sketches: "Follow the dusk."

The phrase felt charged, almost like a whisper planted in his head. Follow the dusk. It seemed ridiculous, like a piece of poetry left unfinished, but something about it tugged at him, as if he already knew what it meant, buried somewhere beneath his confusion. The phrase looped through his mind, and he found himself moving, getting dressed, pulling on his coat, as if on autopilot.

He stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air, and glanced up at the faint glow from the distant lights of the city. But his eyes were drawn west, toward the horizon where the last traces of dusk had faded hours before. Follow the dusk.

Turning from the city lights, he headed west, out through winding alleys and darkened streets, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together. The words felt like a clue left for him alone—a way out, perhaps, hidden in plain sight.

Before he knew it, he was approaching the city's outer limits, the walls looming like a boundary between worlds. Taking one last glance back at the sleeping city, he slipped through a narrow passage in the wall, into the open expanse beyond. The fracture stretched out before him, dark and endless, and he felt something strange in his chest—a sense of freedom mingled with fear.

Caius moved slowly, tracing his steps through the fracture, his senses on high alert in the heavy silence around him. He walked among toppled buildings and narrow paths, the cold wind carrying faint echoes from somewhere deeper within the fracture. His steps faltered as his eyes landed on something half-buried under the rubble.

He crouched down, pushing aside chunks of stone, revealing a strange symbol etched into the base of a weathered pillar. It was the insignia of the Veil—a hollow circle with a line splitting it cleanly in two. The line bled downward, like a crack in stone, and seemed to stare back at him, unwavering. It was unmistakable: the Veil had marked this place.

He couldn’t understand why it was here, beyond the city’s reach. This far from the gates, he thought he was alone. But seeing this mark gave him a sinking feeling, as if he were still under the Veil’s watchful gaze even now.

A chill crept up his spine, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. The symbol felt alive, taunting him, reminding him of the control he had never fully escaped. He brushed his fingers over the carving, almost expecting to feel a pulse beneath his hand. He pulled back, unnerved, the weight of the Veil’s presence as tangible as the chill in the air.

He stood, forcing himself to turn away, but the image burned into his memory.

As Caius left the symbol behind, he felt a strange weight pressing on him. The chill clung to his skin, spreading up his arms like frost. It wasn’t immediate—at first, it was just an uneasy feeling in his gut, an inkling he couldn’t shake. Each step away from the symbol felt like sinking into an unseen current, pulling him deeper, slowing his movements as if some force was holding him back. The air was dense, thick with an unnatural silence.

The further he walked, the stranger everything became. Shadows seemed to stretch out from the ruins around him, shifting when he wasn’t looking, slipping into the corners of his vision. His hands began to tingle, a faint numbness creeping up his wrists and into his arms. He looked down, and though the lighting was dim, he could see it—the blackness seeping back across his skin, faint but unmistakable.

He clenched his fists, as if the force of his grip could somehow hold back whatever was rising within him. But the tingling only grew worse, like ice working its way through his veins. He rubbed his hands along his arms, willing the sensation to go away, but his skin was darkening in patches. It spread with a slow, deliberate crawl, inky tendrils stretching upward.

He stopped, breathing heavily, his heart pounding against his ribs. His mind was screaming at him to turn back, to find a way to reverse whatever was happening, but his body refused to obey. It was as if an invisible hand had wrapped around him, tugging him forward against his will. Every instinct told him that he should leave, that he was venturing too far, but his feet kept moving.

The darkness tightened around his hands, crawling up to his elbows, his shoulders, cold as iron and just as unyielding. His heartbeat slowed, his thoughts hazing over as if a thick fog had settled in his mind. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but his surroundings were already shifting, blurring at the edges.

Then, a pulse—a faint echo at first, deep in his chest, growing stronger with each passing second. The rhythm was familiar, but not his own. It wasn’t his heart, and yet, it thudded inside him, a dark, relentless beat. He staggered, clutching his head as a voice—barely more than a whisper—brushed the edges of his mind.

Images flickered through his head: glimpses of moments he didn’t recognize, but felt an unsettling familiarity with. Desolate landscapes, shadowed figures watching him, people turning away in fear. His breath caught as he saw himself, standing among the shadows, cloaked in darkness, eyes gleaming with an unnatural glow. It was him—but it wasn’t.

Another wave of cold washed over him, harsher this time, forcing him down onto one knee. His vision wavered, his focus blurring as the darkness in his skin thickened, crawling up his neck. He clenched his jaw, fighting against the suffocating grip tightening around his chest. He needed to breathe, to force the pressure away, but each gasp only drew the cold deeper, solidifying its hold over him.

His fingers twitched, as if they weren’t his own. He raised his hand slowly, his vision fixed on the blackness that coated his skin like a second layer. It was spreading over him, hollowing him out, and with it came a terrifying numbness—a stillness that wasn’t peace, but emptiness. He tried to force his arm down, to look away, but his body resisted, held firm by some unseen force, like he was an observer in his own skin.

Caius barely registered Nimara’s approach, his senses dulled by the cold stillness gripping him. She appeared suddenly, her steps silent and measured, her expression composed, almost serene as she looked him over.

“Caius,” she said, her voice low and unwavering, carrying a calm authority. He felt a strange unease at how unbothered she seemed by his state, but he could hardly form a thought, let alone words. Nimara placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and her touch somehow broke through the haze, grounding him enough to see her face clearly.

“This…” she murmured, almost to herself, her gaze drifting to the darkness coiling over his skin. “This is what we are trying to protect you from.”

“What…?” His voice was barely a rasp, and his mind struggled to process her words. Her statement lingered in his mind, a lifeline he clung to in his disorientation.

“It’s the darkness beyond the Veil,” she said, her tone soft but measured, calculated. “It can consume anyone if left unchecked. That’s why we need to return to the city—to make sure it doesn’t take hold of you.” Her hand tightened just slightly on his shoulder. “You understand, don’t you? The city is your safeguard. We are here to protect you.”

Caius’s brow furrowed as he took in her words. She spoke with a confidence that was oddly reassuring, a calm certainty that hinted at some greater truth he couldn’t fully grasp. But something felt off, a distant voice within him that couldn’t reconcile the comfort of her words with the cold emptiness clinging to his skin. Still, he forced himself to focus on the logic of what she was saying.

“Fine,” he murmured, his voice strained, yielding to her presence and the steadiness she offered. “Take me back.”

Nimara’s lips curved into a faint smile, her expression controlled yet warm, as if she had expected nothing less. “Good,” she replied, her tone gentle, as though she were reassuring him. She shifted slightly, guiding him forward with a hand still on his shoulder.

“Come now,” she said, her tone coaxing, “the Veil will know what to do.”

He followed her, his steps heavy, fighting the lingering chill that clung to his skin. Nimara moved beside him, calm and unhurried, her presence a strangely steadying force, even if he couldn’t fully trust her words. But as he walked with her, the doubts continued to nag at him, whispering quietly under the surface of his thoughts, their murmur lost in the silence of the empty streets.

The journey back to the city was a blur for Caius, his senses dulled by a strange heaviness that clung to his skin. Nimara stayed beside him, guiding him with a steady, unhurried pace. Each step seemed to blend into the next, a relentless march that pulled him closer to the Veil's walls, yet something inside him rebelled, scratching at the edges of his mind.

As they approached the gates, Nimara released her grip on his shoulder, her expression still calm and composed. Caius couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness spreading within him, the sense that something dark lurked beneath his own skin, biding its time. His gaze drifted to the towering walls, the familiar sight stirring a flicker of hesitation in him. He thought back to the abandoned town, the silent eyes of those who hid within the shadows there, and a hint of doubt gnawed at his resolve.

“Stay close,” Nimara instructed, her voice soft but firm. She spoke as though she could sense the fracture in his will, her eyes scanning his face as if searching for signs of disobedience.

They passed through the main gates, and Caius noticed the guards eyeing him with a mix of confusion and suspicion. He stiffened, forcing his face into a mask of indifference, brushing off their scrutiny with a tense nod. The blackness on his skin had retreated, but the sensation of it lingered, like a memory he couldn’t shake.

Nimara led him through a series of winding streets, navigating narrow alleyways that seemed intentionally out of sight. Caius kept his gaze down, avoiding the curious glances of passing citizens, his thoughts still tangled in the strange emptiness that had begun gnawing at him. Every step toward the Veil’s tower felt like a weight pressing him deeper into the city’s heart, as if the very walls were closing in around him.

They soon reached the Veil’s tower—a stark, looming structure that cut into the sky, dark against the fading dusk. Its exterior was shadowed, its surface polished to a near mirror-like sheen that reflected the city lights in strange, fragmented patterns. The sight was unsettling; each distorted reflection felt like a warped version of the reality he knew.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of cold metal and sterile surfaces. Nimara guided him into an empty room, its walls bare except for a small, dark window high up near the ceiling. Caius stood rigid, watching as she moved with quiet purpose, securing the door behind them.

“This place… it’s where we protect you,” she said in a low, steady tone. “It’s where we can shield you from what you’re feeling.”

He hesitated, glancing down at his hands again, half-expecting the blackness to resurface. But his skin remained clear, if unnaturally pale. “Protect… me?” His voice came out strained, rough as he tried to make sense of her words.

“Yes.” Nimara met his gaze, a trace of sympathy softening her features. “It’s the Veil’s purpose to keep you safe from this darkness that claws at you. But it only works if you stay close, if you trust in us.”

He wanted to look away, but her eyes held him, a strange calmness radiating from her that seemed to reach through his inner turmoil, if only for a moment. The urge to resist faded, replaced by a weary acceptance, and he nodded.

Caius was led into a sterile, dimly lit room within the Veil’s tower. The walls were bare, and the only furniture was a metal chair bolted to the floor in the center of the room, facing a table. Across from him, in the shadowed half of the room, stood Nimara, her arms crossed, her eyes cold and assessing. Two guards flanked the doorway, silent and imposing.

He sat down reluctantly, feeling the weight of the silence and Nimara’s watchful gaze.

“Caius,” she began, her voice eerily calm, “your latest excursion raises…concerns.”

Caius didn’t respond, but he felt his pulse quicken. She noticed the slight twitch in his jaw and allowed herself a thin smile.

“Tell me about the town,” she continued. “I assume you saw the remains, perhaps even some lingering survivors. I want details.”

He hesitated. His mind was a maze of half-remembered images and fractured moments—the people he’d seen, the warning Ryker had given, the strange feeling that had overtaken him in the Fracture. But now, under Nimara’s intense scrutiny, the memories felt foggy, less real.

“It was mostly deserted,” he said finally, keeping his voice steady. “Some remnants of the old town. Nothing else stood out.”

Nimara narrowed her eyes. “So, you’re telling me there was nothing unusual? No…interactions?”

Caius shook his head, careful to keep his expression neutral. “I avoided people,” he replied. “That’s all.”

She studied him, her silence heavy. Then, with an almost theatrical movement, she pulled something from her coat pocket and placed it on the table between them. It was a scrap of fabric, one he recognized immediately—the tattered piece of clothing he’d seen on one of the bodies. His stomach dropped as he remembered discarding it in fear of the Veil’s reach.

“It’s strange,” she said, her tone calculating, “how a patrol that was supposed to be routine yielded this…evidence.” Her fingers brushed over the fabric with a kind of detached interest. “Care to explain?”

Caius felt his mind race, scrambling to piece together an answer. “It must have caught on my uniform,” he said, keeping his voice low, “from one of the bodies.”

Nimara’s gaze stayed locked on him, sharp as a knife. “Your loyalty to the Veil is paramount, Caius. We’ve done everything to keep you and this city safe from what lurks beyond the walls. From the darkness.”

Her words wrapped around him, and for a brief moment, he felt a stirring of doubt. Was the Veil truly protecting him from something worse, something uncontrollable within himself? Or was she manipulating him, feeding his fear to keep him in line?

She leaned forward, her voice a near whisper. “Do you feel it even now?”

He swallowed, the darkness pulsing beneath his skin like a secret he couldn’t bury.

“Tomorrow,” she continued, straightening up, “you’ll report directly to the High Council. They’ve taken a…special interest in you.”

The guards moved to his sides, signaling it was time to go. As they led him from the room, Nimara’s words lingered, stirring unease in him like a splinter beneath the surface. She knew something—perhaps more than he did—and he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever came next would push him deeper into a world where trust was a dangerous luxury.

As the guards escorted Caius down the dimly lit corridor, he felt a familiar surge—an instinct he couldn’t quite place but that burned hotly beneath his skin. Without warning, his body moved on its own accord. He twisted to his left, throwing a sharp elbow into the nearest guard’s neck. The man crumpled soundlessly to the floor. The second guard barely had time to react before Caius had him in a chokehold, carefully lowering him until he, too, lay still.

For a breathless moment, Caius waited, listening for any hint of alarm. But the corridor remained silent, empty as he checked his surroundings. His hands, now stained with the unconscious guards’ sweat, trembled, the darkness he’d just suppressed creeping in again, whispering its influence. He shook it off, moving quickly and quietly back toward the direction of the council chambers.

A faint sound—a low, pulsing hum—caught his attention from a side corridor he hadn’t noticed before. Following it, he crept down the narrow hall, feeling the weight of secrecy thick in the air. The hum grew louder as he neared a heavy metal door, its surface marked with the Veil’s ominous sigil, painted in stark crimson.

Through a small slit in the door, Caius peered inside. His heart raced as he took in the scene. Members of the Veil, dressed in ceremonial robes, stood in a circular formation, all facing inward. At the center of their circle was an object unlike anything he’d seen before—a metal, horned device that pulsed with a strange, unsettling light.

One of the leaders, cloaked in black and with hands raised, began chanting, his words merging with the humming from the object. The others joined in, their voices weaving together into a single force, resonating in a way that made the air itself seem to vibrate. The device began to shift and emit a faint glow, its horns crackling with energy, as if pulling something intangible from the room. The light seemed to reach toward each member, wrapping around them like tendrils, binding them in silent servitude.

A flicker of dread crept up Caius’s spine as he realized the device’s purpose. It wasn’t just an object; it was a tool of control. The ritual was drawing on something within the members, reinforcing their bond to the Veil, as if erasing any chance of independent thought. For a split second, he felt that same pull, a tightening in his chest, but it slipped away, the darkness within him flaring defensively.

He clenched his fists, steadying himself as he watched in horror. Whatever secrets the Veil kept, they ran deeper than he could have imagined, and if they discovered he’d seen this, he might never escape.

[taliyas-stories24]

Chapter 2 of the new story I've been working on is here! And if ya don't know, I'm a new writer (just started)

Give me suggestions/ criticisms / kudos is appreciated ♥️

This story is twenty one pilots inspired so there are similar concepts and such.

Title: Fractured Path

Genre: Dystopian Fiction

Words: 6,802

TW: Unreality, Control, Death, Violence

The path back to Noxus stretched out before Caius, winding through the desolate landscape of the Fracture. With each step, the blackness that had taken hold of his skin began to recede, slowly dissolving back into his veins. It left a strange, hollow ache in its place, as though the darkness had been another part of him, now ripped away.

The gates of Noxus loomed ahead, cold and unyielding, towering above the fractured earth. As he approached, the guards stationed at the entrance caught sight of him and exchanged uneasy glances. They were trained to notice everything, and Caius’s disheveled appearance—his exhausted, haunted look—was impossible to miss.

“Caius, what happened out there?” one of them asked, stepping forward, his hand hovering near his weapon.

Caius didn’t answer immediately, his mind still spinning from the encounter. The silence stretched, and he could feel their stares growing more pointed, more concerned.

“Didn’t go as planned,” he managed finally, his voice barely audible. He didn’t know how to explain it—didn’t know if he even should. “Just… need to get home.”

The guard placed a hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of camaraderie that Caius barely registered. “Come on, I’ll help you,” he said, guiding Caius through the gates.

A few steps inside, another guard approached, stepping into their path. His presence commanded attention, and Caius recognized him immediately: Talrik, a high-ranking enforcer whose eyes seemed to pierce right through a person. There was no warmth, no camaraderie in his gaze.

“Caius,” Talrik said, voice clipped, “I’ve been instructed to bring you to the Veil.”

The air shifted, and a chill ran down Caius’s spine. The moment of reprieve vanished, and the weight of those words pressed on him like iron. He looked to Talrik, caught between defiance and fear, then glanced back at the guard who’d been helping him. The guard’s hand slipped from his shoulder, and his expression shifted, the concern dimming into something unreadable.

“It’s urgent,” Talrik added, his tone making it clear that there was no room for resistance.

Caius’s pulse quickened as Talrik’s words sank in. Every instinct told him to pull away, to melt into the familiar shadows of the city’s narrow alleys, but Talrik’s steely gaze held him in place. There was no escape, not this time.

He followed the guard through winding corridors, the weight of the mission pressing down on him with every step. The emblems of Noxus—the raven perched atop a crooked tower—loomed on every wall, constant reminders of the power he served. He kept his eyes ahead, though flashes of his journey replayed in his mind: the desolate stretch of the Fracture, the remnants of a long-abandoned town, and the people he’d encountered there.

Finally, Talrik stopped before a set of wide iron doors. He glanced back at Caius, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “They’ll be expecting a report,” he said, voice low.

Caius nodded, steeling himself as Talrik pushed open the doors, revealing the Veil’s shadowed chamber. It was lit only by the pale, flickering glow of suspended crystals, casting ghostly shadows that crept along the walls. At the far end of the room, cloaked figures sat in the darkness, their faces obscured beneath deep hoods. Though he couldn’t see them clearly, Caius felt the weight of their gaze pressing into him, intense and expectant.

“Caius,” one of them intoned, voice smooth and unwavering. “You’ve returned. Report on the mission.”

Caius cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. “I made it to the Fracture, as ordered,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady despite the memory of the encounter. “I came across… a settlement. People still living there. They attacked me, but I handled it.”

Another voice cut through the silence, sharper this time. “Were they... troublesome?”

“Nothing I couldn’t manage,” he said, keeping his tone clipped. He forced himself not to mention the man in the town, the one with the strange emblem. The memory of his words echoed faintly in Caius’s mind, a puzzle he couldn’t quite piece together.

The Veil was silent for a moment, and he could feel their gazes shifting amongst themselves. “We’ll need you to return tomorrow,” a figure to his left finally spoke. “Retrieve the bodies of those you encountered. Examine the area again. Report your findings.”

The council’s order pressed heavily on him, but he nodded, keeping his face expressionless. “Understood.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Without another word, Caius turned and made his way out of the chamber, the weight of the encounter settling in his bones. Tomorrow, he would return to the town and face the scene he’d left behind—a task that left a hollow feeling in his chest.

The city’s chill night air bit at Caius’s skin as he made his way through the winding alleys back to his quarters. The meeting with the Veil lingered in his mind, their words twisting like threads, making him uneasy. He felt strangely drained, and his vision blurred briefly as he passed through a narrow street, trying to shake off the dark energy still clinging to him from the Fracture.

He turned a corner and collided with someone—a figure bundled in a heavy cloak, their face obscured beneath the hood. Caius steadied himself, giving a curt nod, but the person merely dipped their head and continued on without a word. The encounter lasted only a second, and Caius brushed it off, continuing on his way.

Finally, he reached his quarters, shutting the door behind him and breathing a sigh of relief. Exhaustion pulled at him, the events of the day weighing down on his mind. He removed his uniform jacket, draping it over the back of a chair, and sank onto the bed.

As he ran a hand through his hair, something brushed against his side. Frowning, Caius reached into his pocket and felt a folded piece of paper. He didn’t remember putting anything there. 

As Caius unfolded the small piece of paper, he saw what looked like an ordinary message, hastily written, yet oddly innocuous:

"nexT market deliverY arrives On tHursday. Expect delaYs. secure All Goods pRomptly UpoN arrival. proceEd WIth cAuTion due to reCent weatHer.”

he frowned. It seemed like nothing more than a mundane set of instructions or notes from a trader. But as he read it over, something about the words felt… off.

He scanned it more carefully, letting his eyes glide over each word, looking for any pattern. His gaze snagged on the capital letters, scattered almost randomly throughout the note. They spelled out a hidden message:

"THEY ARE WATCHING YOU."

His pulse quickened. He turned the note over, searching for more.

Sure enough, He saw more instructions.

"cOllect aLL SiGns by The eNtrance and Follow up With main OffIce. New procEdureS are required. tHank you for your patience."

“FOLLOW THE SIGNS”

Caius’s pulse quickened as he stared down at the note. The front side held that strange instruction about the market delivery and delays, but the hidden message, "THEY ARE WATCHING YOU," lingered, chilling him. He flipped the paper over again, his hands unsteady. “FOLLOW THE SIGNS” 

His mind raced, questions spiraling in all directions. Signs? What signs? And who was watching him? Was this some kind of test, a trick set up by the Veil, to see if he’d betray them somehow? His eyes darted around the small room, as if he could sense eyes on him already, hidden within the shadows.

Caius folded the note, shoving it deep into his pocket, his mind heavy with suspicion and the weight of the unknown message. He replayed the encounter in his mind—the hooded stranger who had bumped into him, slipping the note without a word. It had seemed like nothing at the time, but now, a dark sense of purpose lingered over that brief exchange.

His instincts urged him to destroy the note, but a stubborn curiosity held him back. He needed to understand the meaning of the words, and the faint voice in the back of his mind whispered that he might not have a choice but to follow them.

As Caius left his quarters, an uneasiness gnawed at him. The chill of the night felt sharper than usual, and as he moved through the narrow, dimly lit streets, he noticed shadows flickering in his periphery—figures lingering just out of sight. He squinted, picking out the shape of a cloaked figure standing half-hidden in an alley across from him, head lowered as if trying not to be seen but failing.

His pulse quickened. Without a second thought, he started after the figure, keeping his steps quiet. The figure slipped down the alley and disappeared around a corner. Caius quickened his pace, his eyes locked on the shadowy outline that darted in and out of view ahead. Just as he was closing in, the stranger suddenly vanished. Caius cursed under his breath, sprinting forward until he reached the spot where the figure had been.

He stopped short, his gaze catching on something odd: a large sign posted against the crumbling wall of a construction zone, lit faintly by a dim streetlamp. The sign was marked with a bold, downward-facing arrow. Caius frowned, glancing around, unsure what to make of it. But as his eyes followed the arrow downward, the ground beneath him shifted.

Suddenly, he plunged through an unseen trapdoor, falling into darkness before landing hard on his feet. The impact jarred his bones, but he managed to keep his balance, quickly steadying himself. The air was thick and damp, carrying a musty smell, and when his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized he was in a narrow, sewer-like tunnel. Faint echoes reverberated through the space, hinting at a maze of passages branching off in every direction.

He scanned the walls and his gaze caught on a symbol just ahead: a large X within a circle, crudely painted in dark ink. The sight of it sent a shiver down his spine. It was the same symbol he’d glimpsed on the man in the abandoned town. Caius clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the cryptic note in his pocket, the hidden message echoing in his mind.

“Follow the signs.”

Caius took a step back, heart racing, his instincts screaming that he needed to prepare for a fight. The tunnel seemed to close in on him, the darkness pressing closer as a flurry of movement caught his eye. Figures rushed out of the shadows, charging toward him with speed and purpose.

Before he could react, they surrounded him—four individuals, their faces obscured by hoods and masks, their bodies lithe and agile. They moved with practiced precision, closing the space between them and Caius in an instant. He tensed, ready to defend himself, but they didn’t attack. Instead, they began inspecting him, their hands reaching out to examine his skin, their gazes locking onto his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Caius barked, jerking back instinctively, confusion coursing through him. He felt vulnerable and exposed as they moved closer, their intentions unclear. He couldn’t sense any weapons on them, but the sudden invasion of his personal space set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Hold still!” one of them commanded sharply, a woman with fierce green eyes peering through the shadows of her mask.

Caius hesitated, caught between the urge to fight back and a deeper instinct that kept him rooted in place. He glanced around, noticing the symbol he’d seen earlier etched into the walls, a reminder of the threat lingering just beneath the surface.

“Please, we’re not here to harm you,” a man said, his voice low and reassuring, as he stepped forward. He had tousled dark hair and a presence that commanded attention. “We’re just checking to make sure you’re clear.”

Clear? The word echoed in his mind, but before he could question them further, the woman crouched down, her fingers brushing against his skin. She met his gaze, her expression serious. “You’re safe.”

Caius’s confusion only deepened. “What do you mean?”

With a nod of confirmation from the others, the man who had spoken first stepped back. “We’re the ones you were meant to find. I’m Ryker, and this is Kira, Kael, and Alec,” he gestured to the others in turn, a hint of a smile breaking through his mask.

“Alec?” Caius repeated, piecing together the name with the figure he had encountered in the Fracture. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“We’re trying to help you,” Kira said, her tone softening as she straightened up. “But we need you to trust us.”

Caius opened his mouth to respond, but the echoes of the tunnel and the weight of their watchful gazes pressed against him, leaving him grappling with uncertainty.

Caius took a step back, still grappling with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. “You expect me to just follow you?” he said, crossing his arms defiantly, though a part of him was intrigued.

Ryker nodded, his expression earnest. “We know this is sudden, but we can help you. You’ve already taken the first step. The note you received—someone out there is looking out for you.”

Caius’s heart raced. “How do you know about the note?”

Kira stepped forward, her voice steady. “Because it means you have doubts about the Veil. You’ve been given a glimpse of something deeper, and we can help you understand it. The Veil has been watching you closely, and not in the way you think. You need to know the truth.”

Caius hesitated, his instincts clashing against a growing sense of curiosity. He had always been taught that the Veil protected him, that they were his guardians against the darkness within him. Yet, here were these strangers, urging him to follow, promising answers he hadn’t known he sought.

“What if you’re leading me into a trap?” he asked, unease creeping back into his voice.

“Then you’ll fight your way out,” Kael replied with a small smirk. “But if we wanted to hurt you, we wouldn’t have wasted our time trying to convince you to come with us. We would have just taken you. Trust us.”

Caius’s mind raced. He thought of the events in the Fracture, the feeling of something lurking just beneath his skin. It felt like a shadow, creeping closer, and yet—there was something about their sincerity that made him pause. Perhaps following them would give him answers, perhaps it would help him understand the darkness he feared was growing inside him.

“Alright,” he said finally, tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “I’ll follow you.”

“Good choice,” Ryker said, relief flooding his voice. “Stick close. We have a long way to go.”

With that, the group moved deeper into the tunnels, their footsteps echoing off the damp walls. Caius found himself at the center of a tight formation, the flickering light from their small lantern illuminating their determined expressions. The further they ventured, the more he felt the weight of the Veil’s protection receding, leaving a disconcerting mixture of fear and anticipation in its wake.

“Keep your eyes open,” Kira instructed as they navigated the labyrinthine passages. “And trust your instincts.”

Caius nodded, taking a deep breath as they pressed onward, the shadows dancing around them as they disappeared into the unknown.

After what felt like an eternity winding through the narrow, damp tunnels, Caius finally emerged into the light, blinking against the brightness that flooded his senses. The group stepped out into the ruins of the abandoned town he had stumbled upon earlier, but something was different this time.

As he surveyed the landscape, his breath caught in his throat. Where there had been silence and desolation, life now thrived amidst the crumbling structures. Makeshift homes dotted the remnants of buildings, and the sounds of laughter and conversation echoed through the air. Families moved about, children played, and makeshift gardens flourished in the rubble.

Caius stood frozen for a moment, trying to comprehend what he was witnessing. He remembered the emptiness of the place during his last visit—the eerie quiet that had enveloped him. Now, vibrant life breathed through the streets, painting a stark contrast against the backdrop of decay.

“Where did all these people come from?” he murmured, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“They were always here,” Kira replied softly, catching the hint of confusion in his voice. “They just kept to the shadows, hidden from the Veil’s watchful gaze. They know what’s at stake.”

Caius took a tentative step forward, his heart pounding. “But how… how did they survive?” The question hung in the air, laden with doubt. Had he really been so blind to the truth of this place? Or had the Veil obscured his vision, keeping him unaware of the lives around him?

As he moved further into the town, he caught glimpses of families sharing meals, people trading goods, and a community thriving against all odds. The realization hit him like a wave: he had been an enforcer for the Veil, a force that had kept these people hidden and oppressed.

“It’s like a different world,” he whispered, the weight of his past actions crashing down on him.

“Welcome to the Fracture,” Ryker said, pride evident in his voice. “This is where we fight back, where we build something new from the ashes of the old.”

Caius’s mind raced, a tangle of emotions spiraling within him. The lives he had taken, the innocents who had suffered—he felt the crushing burden of it all. He hadn’t known; he hadn’t seen.

“Stay close,” Alec said, his tone firm yet encouraging. “There’s much for you to learn here, but for now, we need to find our people.”

As they moved through the town, Caius couldn’t shake the sense of impending change. He was standing on the precipice of a revelation, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was beginning to question everything he had ever believed about the Veil and the darkness that had seemed so threatening.

The group weaved through the bustling streets, the atmosphere alive with energy. Caius struggled to absorb it all—the vibrant colors of fabric strung between buildings, the mingling scents of cooking food, and the lively chatter of voices echoing off the cracked walls. It felt surreal, like stepping into another realm entirely.

“Over here,” Kira gestured, leading them toward a large, open space where several people had gathered. It appeared to be a marketplace of sorts, filled with various stalls made from salvaged materials. The lively haggling and exchange of goods created a rhythm that pulsed through the air.

Caius was struck by a sense of wonder mingled with trepidation. He couldn’t help but wonder what life was like for these people, living in defiance of the Veil’s authority. Were they really safe here? Did they know the risks involved in standing against the very force that had once seemed invincible to him?

“Look,” Kael pointed to a stall where an elderly woman was skillfully weaving baskets from reeds. “That’s Miriam. She can help you understand how we’ve survived here.”

As they approached, the woman looked up, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “Ah, newcomers! You’ve brought fresh faces to our little town!” Her voice was bright and welcoming, a stark contrast to the grim reality Caius had always known.

Caius couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of her spirit breaking through his uncertainty. “How long have you been here?” he asked, his curiosity bubbling to the surface.

Miriam chuckled, her hands never stopping their work. “Longer than the Veil thinks. We’ve had to hide, but that doesn’t mean we’ve lost hope. We find ways to survive, to keep our community alive.”

“Survive?” Caius echoed, a knot tightening in his stomach. “But it’s dangerous to live like this, isn’t it?”

“Dangerous? Yes. But what’s more dangerous is living in fear, being blind to the truth. Here, we’re not just surviving; we’re reclaiming our lives,” she replied, her voice imbued with conviction.

Before he could respond, Ryker clapped Caius on the back. “You’ll learn to navigate this place. It’s not just about staying hidden. It’s about building connections, fighting for what’s right.”

As they moved deeper into the marketplace, Caius observed the people around him. He noticed an older man sharing stories with a group of children, a woman bartering for fresh produce, and neighbors helping one another carry heavy loads. The simple acts of kindness painted a picture of resilience and unity he had never witnessed before.

“What’s our next move?” Caius asked, feeling a sense of belonging wash over him despite his lingering doubts.

Alec turned to him, his expression serious. “We need to gather intel. The Veil is more vigilant than ever. If they catch wind of what we’re building here, they won’t hesitate to strike.”

Caius nodded, the weight of their mission settling over him. This was a world apart from the one he had known, and though uncertainty still gnawed at him, a flicker of hope began to take root in his heart. 

As Caius adjusted to the bustling atmosphere of the marketplace, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket, the jarring sound breaking through the warmth of the moment. He glanced at the screen and saw it was a call from one of the guards back at the city.

Before he could answer, Ryker leaned in, his expression suddenly serious. “Shh! Everyone, quiet!” he urged, his voice low but firm. The lively chatter around them faded, and the townspeople exchanged worried glances. “Caius, don’t mention this place. If they find out, we could all be in danger.”

Caius felt a knot of anxiety form in his stomach, but he nodded, trying to project confidence. “I got this,” he whispered back, raising the phone to his ear.

“Caius?” the guard’s voice came through, laced with suspicion. “You’re out there already? What’s going on?”

“I made an early trip out to the Fracture,” Caius replied, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I’m on my way to retrieve the bodies from my last mission.”

“Bodies? You sure you’re clear to be out there alone?” the guard questioned, the tone of his voice hinting at doubt.

“I’ve got it under control,” Caius insisted, the words tumbling out more confidently than he felt. “I’ll report back once I’ve completed the mission.”

“Alright,” the guard said slowly, still sounding skeptical. “But I’ll pass this along to the Veil. Just… be careful out there.”

Caius ended the call, the tension in his chest coiling tighter. He looked at Ryker, who was scanning the surroundings, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Did he buy it?” Ryker asked quietly.

“Maybe,” Caius replied, running a hand through his hair. “He didn’t press too hard, but he sounded suspicious.”

“Good enough for now,” Ryker said, taking a deep breath. “Alright, everyone, you know what to do! Hide!” He turned to the townspeople, who had already started to retreat into the shadows of nearby structures, their expressions a mix of fear and determination.

Caius felt a surge of urgency. “What do I do now?” he asked, glancing back at Ryker.

“Complete your mission,” Ryker instructed, his voice low but steady. “We’ll be in contact soon, but for now, we can’t risk the Veil learning about this place. Stay safe, Caius.”

With that, the group dispersed, melting into the shadows of the marketplace, leaving Caius standing alone in the midst of the chaos. The reality of his situation weighed heavily on him, As he stepped back into the fading light of the day, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was at a crossroads.

Caius moved cautiously along the narrow path leading out of the bustling town, his mind racing with the weight of what lay ahead. Each step felt heavier than the last as he mentally prepared for the grim task of retrieving the bodies he had left behind. The weight of his past hung over him, a dark cloud that refused to dissipate.

But as he walked, something else began to draw his attention. He glanced down at his hands, and his stomach dropped. The creeping blackness was returning, slowly snaking its way up his fingers, seeping into his skin like ink spreading across a page. Panic surged within him, threatening to drown out the determination he had just felt.

“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath, stopping in his tracks. He rubbed his hands against his clothing, hoping to wipe away the darkness, but it only seemed to deepen, spreading further with every frantic movement.

He looked around, half-expecting someone to emerge from the shadows and explain what was happening to him. But the path was empty, the town behind him a silent witness to his growing dread.

Caius took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. He couldn’t afford to let this consume him, not now, not when he was so close to uncovering the truth. He forced himself to keep walking, his heart racing with each step as he fought against the encroaching darkness.

As he moved deeper into the woods bordering the Fracture, he tried to focus on the mission at hand. He would retrieve the bodies and report back; that was his only priority. But with every passing moment, the blackness coiled tighter around his wrists, creeping toward his arms.

Suddenly, he stumbled upon a clearing. The ground was marked with disturbed earth, and he could see the outlines of where he had fought earlier. The memories surged back—faces filled with terror, the sudden rush of adrenaline as he fought for his life. Guilt gnawed at him, sharp and relentless.

He knelt down to examine the area, hoping to distract himself from the unsettling transformation occurring in his body. But as he inspected the ground, he noticed something that made his breath hitch in his throat. The dirt was dark, almost black, where he had taken lives, and the imagery sent a wave of nausea through him.

“Get it together,” he muttered, forcing himself to stand. “This is just part of the job.”

But even as he said it, the words felt hollow. He glanced at his hands again, now fully black, the color a stark contrast against the dirt and greenery surrounding him.

“No,” he whispered to himself, backing away from the clearing. He needed to regain control before the Veil—or whatever else was influencing him—could take hold again.

Caius steeled himself as he stepped into the clearing, the air heavy with the remnants of conflict. He began his search through the bodies scattered across the ground, each one a grim reminder of the violence he had been a part of. The blackness creeping up his arms seemed to pulse in time with the dread settling in his stomach, an ominous presence that wrapped around him tighter with each passing moment.

He knelt beside the first body, a man dressed in a tattered coat that had once been vibrant—a deep crimson now dulled to a muddy brown. The man’s face was obscured by dirt and blood, but Caius recognized the insignia stitched onto the fabric, a circle enclosing an arrow pointing upward, a symbol of rebellion against the Veil. It was a detail he had only seen in whispers and rumors, a mark of defiance. The sight sent a chill down his spine.

He turned to the next body, a woman whose clothing was a patchwork of colors, each piece telling a story of survival. Her sleeves were frayed, and her trousers bore the marks of battle, yet she wore a bright yellow sash that stood out against the muted tones, a symbol of hope amidst the horror. Though he couldn’t quite place why it struck him so deeply.

“Why did it have to come to this?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

As he sifted through the remnants of the confrontation, he found scattered items: a leather-bound journal, its pages crinkled and torn, a small wooden toy that seemed to have belonged to a child, and a necklace adorned with a charm in the shape of a sun—a token of warmth in this desolate scene. Each discovery tugged at the corners of his conscience, amplifying the guilt that gnawed at him.

But it was the growing darkness on his skin that drew his focus. With every item he touched, the blackness surged, creeping up his arms like vines, constricting and suffocating. It was as if each memory connected to the lives he had taken was feeding into this dark manifestation. The contrast between the colorful rebellion attire and his encroaching blackness made him feel increasingly isolated, a stark reminder of the line he had crossed.

Suddenly, a glimmer caught his eye, and he turned to find a small, silver pendant lying in the dirt, shimmering in the fading light. He reached for it, the moment he touched it sending a jolt through him, intensifying the dark sensation that enveloped him. It was the same sun symbol he had seen on the necklace of the woman before him, and he felt an inexplicable connection to it, as though it was calling out to him from beyond the grave.

“No,” he grunted, forcing himself to release the pendant, to pull back from the dark pull it exerted. “I can’t let this happen.”

He turned away from the bodies, breathing heavily as the blackness on his skin writhed with a life of its own, consuming him in its shadow. He couldn’t linger here any longer; he had to finish the mission and return to the city, away from the reminders of the rebellion’s sacrifices.

As Caius turned from the bodies, a cold numbness began to seep through him, deeper than before, spreading from the darkened skin up his arms and into his chest. His heartbeat slowed, his breathing leveled, and soon the dull throb of guilt faded into nothingness. He felt himself slipping, his mind drifting away, sinking into a hazy void.

His limbs moved on their own, bending down to lift the bodies with precise, mechanical motions. Each one was slung over his shoulder or dragged without regard, the faces and lives of the fallen rebels becoming indistinct shapes in his vision. His hands no longer trembled as he touched the vivid sashes and worn patches, and the symbols of the rebellion—the emblems of their cause—meant nothing to him now. They were just fabric and leather, weight to be carried back, nothing more.

He began his return journey to the city in a daze, the barren landscape slipping past in muted tones, the light dimming as if veiled in shadow. The faint traces of grief, guilt, and doubt that had gnawed at him only moments before were silenced, replaced by a heavy calm that left him hollow, detached. It was as though he had become a vessel, simply carrying out orders, his mind empty of purpose beyond this single task.

By the time he reached the city gates, his steps were measured, his gaze blank, his senses dulled to everything but the completion of his mission. He moved with the unwavering obedience of one utterly resigned to his purpose, emotion drained, with only the shadow within him guiding his path.

The city gates loomed just ahead, their towering iron bars casting long shadows over the ground. Caius felt the weight of the bodies pulling on his shoulders, yet he moved with a force that wasn't his own. His arms and legs seemed to act out of compulsion rather than intention, each step rigid and mechanical. He paused just before crossing into the city, glancing down at his hands to see the blackness now almost reaching his elbows, coiling around his skin like chains.

Without a thought, his hands reached up to the high collar of his coat, pulling it tighter to obscure the darkness creeping up his neck. He slipped his fingers into his pocket and produced a pair of tinted glasses, sliding them over his eyes to mask the unnatural glow he knew was still there. Each movement was precise, controlled, and cold, with no hesitation or faltering. He felt like a marionette, tugged along by invisible strings, powerless to resist.

As he entered the gates, the guards looked up, eyes narrowing at his stiff posture and dark glasses. One of them frowned, his gaze lingering on Caius a moment too long.

"You all right, Caius?" the guard asked, a hint of concern threading through his tone.

Caius felt a rush of irritation surge up, fierce and unbidden. “I’m fine,” he snapped, voice sharp and final, cutting off any further questions. The guard’s expression shifted, confusion flickering before he nodded and let him pass without another word.

As Caius entered the inner reaches of the city, he veered toward the quiet, deserted loading dock behind the enforcement facility, where bodies from the Fracture were to be dropped off for examination. His movements were still disconnected, his mind fogged and heavy as he followed the steps drilled into him.

He laid each body down in a row, lining them up as protocol demanded, their forms unnaturally still against the stark, concrete floor. The pale yellow armbands and sashes some of them wore—the marks of rebellion—stood out against the dull grays of the facility, a final defiance even in death. For a fleeting moment, he felt a strange urge to reach out and cover the sashes, as though hiding them would lessen the weight of his guilt, but his hands refused to obey.

A pair of officers approached, glancing over the bodies, but they barely acknowledged Caius, focused instead on their task. With each passing second, he felt a gnawing pull in his chest, a desire to turn away, but he stood rigid, unable to move, caught between his orders and an unspoken reluctance to see the lifeless faces.

One of the officers looked up at him briefly, noting his uncharacteristically distant gaze. “You can go, Caius. We’ll take it from here.”

He nodded mechanically, his face expressionless as he turned, leaving the bodies and the weight of the moment behind, but not the growing shadow that clung to him as he walked away.

Inside the city, he walked with purpose, his mind fogged and detached, a hollow shell carrying out orders. He slipped down the alleyways and back streets, avoiding curious eyes until he reached the quiet isolation of his quarters. The door clicked shut behind him, and he felt a heavy, suffocating silence settle over the room. Slowly, as if surfacing from a deep, dark pool, he began to regain some semblance of control.

A wave of exhaustion hit him as he looked down at his hands, the blackness fading but leaving his skin tinged with a dull, ashen hue. His body felt foreign, like an untrustworthy stranger. He moved toward the mirror hanging above his dresser, the familiar sight of it somehow jarring. His own reflection stared back, a haunted version of himself, eyes hidden behind the glasses, face drawn and pale.

Tentatively, he removed the glasses, and a glint of faint orange lingered in his eyes, unsettling in its brightness. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t escape the twisted, darkened version of himself staring back. It was as if he was trapped on the other side of the glass, the reflection, his real self, and he’s just the shadow.

Thoughts tangled and fragmented in his mind, a constant inner storm battering against his resolve. He clenched his fists, breathing shallow, feeling the weight of guilt, rage, and fear all twisted together, like vines constricting his chest. The reflection grinned back at him, cold and mocking, its expression laced with a cruelty that clawed at his mind, dragging him down.

"You're weak," the face in the mirror seemed to whisper, though its lips did not move. "No one can see this darkness but you. No one can help you but yourself. But do you even want to be saved?"

The question echoed, a taunt that spiraled into his thoughts. He hated that voice, hated the way it spoke to his deepest doubts, twisting them into brutal truths. His fists trembled, the intensity of it too much to bear. With a sudden, desperate fury, he slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering it with a sharp, explosive crack.

Fragments of glass fell around him, shards scattering like broken pieces of his mind. He stared at his bloodied knuckles, breath ragged, the fractured pieces of his own face staring back at him from the floor. Each piece showed a different version of himself, eyes filled with fear, rage, regret—all the parts he fought to keep hidden, now exposed and jagged, reflecting back his inner turmoil.

He slumped to the floor, surrounded by the wreckage, feeling as shattered as the mirror itself. 

Caius got up, went outside to get some air. He moved through the darkened alleys of the city, his steps soundless but heavy, as though some unseen force pressed down on him, urging him forward. Shadows clung to his limbs, wrapping around his arms and legs like living vines, thickening until his skin was nothing but an abyssal black.

A faint sound caught his ear—a shuffling footstep. He turned sharply, eyes narrowing as a figure stumbled from a side street. The person’s face was hidden in shadow, but he could feel their eyes on him, watching, judging. The sense of being seen, being vulnerable, sent a spike of anger and fear through his chest.

"Who are you?" Caius's voice felt distant, echoing back to him from somewhere deep and hollow. The figure didn’t answer. Instead, they hesitated, a tremor of movement betraying their unease.

“Stay back!” he warned, his voice rough, barely recognizable to himself. The figure froze, a hand lifting as though to calm him, but the gesture only made his paranoia surge.

“Stop... watching me,” he muttered under his breath, but the tension, the piercing weight of those unseen eyes, twisted his insides. Before he could think, his hand moved, a swift, brutal motion, blade drawn and plunged forward. The figure crumpled silently at his feet, and Caius staggered back, horrified, as a dark pool began to spread across the ground.

But he wasn’t alone anymore. A small crowd gathered at the mouth of the alley, faces blurred but unmistakably shocked, accusing. Caius could feel their eyes, the fear in their expressions, the whispers that built into a hum.

The darkness thickened around him, winding up his neck, close, suffocating. He took a step back, hands raised in warning, but his voice was a fractured shout: “Get back! I said stay back!”

They didn’t move, their figures blending with the shadows until only the glint of their eyes remained. Caius drew his weapon, feeling his pulse race as he brandished it toward the onlookers. “I’ll do it—just leave me alone!” he screamed, but his voice sounded wrong, twisted. He could feel his own breath echoing in the darkness, louder and louder—

Caius’s eyes snapped open. He was back on the floor of his quarters, surrounded by shards of glass, the nightmare dissipating like smoke. His hands were trembling, his heart racing.

Caius sat up slowly, his body aching from where he’d slumped on the hard floor. The room felt cold, shadows stretching long in the dim light. He glanced at his hands, half-expecting to see the darkness crawling across his skin, but they were clean. Only faint streaks of dried blood remained on his knuckles from breaking the mirror.

Shards littered the floor around him, catching the dull gleam of morning creeping in through the window. Each shard still held fragments of his reflection—small, distorted versions of himself looking back with a mixture of fear, anger, and something he didn’t want to recognize. He clenched his fists, fighting the tremor that persisted even in the quiet.

A slow, deep breath. He needed to be steady; he needed control. These dreams, this… darkness—they were getting worse. And the worst part was that he didn’t know if it was something within him, festering, or something trying to consume him from the outside.

With effort, Caius rose to his feet, carefully stepping over the broken glass. In the silence, a faint sound reached him—the low murmur of voices outside, the city beginning to stir with life. He forced himself to stand straight, to let his face settle into a mask of calm.

The mirror was broken, but he could still pull himself together.

Turning away from the mess, he made his way to the door, sparing only one last glance at the shattered glass on the floor. Tomorrow, he would be back on the streets. Back under the Veil’s watchful eye. But today, he could try to keep his own.

With a hard exhale, Caius opened the door and stepped out, his mind still haunted by the fractured reflections of himself left behind.

[taliyas-stories24]

Hi everyone, I'm a new writer. Here's a first copy of a chapter I wrote. Please give me any advice / criticisms / kudos! 💜

Title: Fractured Path

Genre: Dystopian Fiction

Words: 4,857

Chapter 1

The clang of steel boots echoed off the cold stone walls as Caius Drex marched through the narrow, gray corridor. He barely glanced at the towering gates of the city, his thoughts too heavy to settle on anything for long. The walls of Noxus, rising above him like an unbroken barrier between the Inner Sanctum and the endless, scorched plains of the Fracture, loomed overhead. They were meant to protect, to keep out the chaos of the world beyond. But to Caius, they felt more like a cage.

He’d been here many times before, patrolling the border between the two worlds. The Inner Sanctum, where order reigned, and the Fracture, the wasteland that stretched out beyond the walls. The trench, they called it. A place for the outcasts, the forgotten, and the rebellious. The Veil, the ruling authority in Noxus, painted the Fracture as a lawless land where only the desperate and dangerous lived. Caius had never ventured beyond the walls. He hadn’t needed to.

He felt the weight of his uniform, the black enforcer’s coat draped over his shoulders, the insignia of The Veil gleaming on his chest. His life had always been simple—follow orders, keep the peace, and silence those who disturbed it. But lately, there had been a nagging feeling, a shift just beneath the surface of his mind. He couldn’t place it, but there were moments where his thoughts slipped, where control seemed distant, as if something—or someone—was pulling the strings.

Caius quickened his pace. The sense of unease crept through his body like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. Not now. Not when there were people depending on him to keep the peace. To maintain order.

His earpiece crackled to life. "Drex, status report?" The voice of Ravik, one of the Revenants of the Veil, was sharp and to the point.

"Nothing to report," Caius replied, his voice steady. He cast a glance at the line of guards stationed near the gate. They stood like statues, barely moving, their eyes trained on the gate.

"Good," Ravik said. "Keep it that way."

The transmission cut out, and Caius felt the knot in his chest tighten again. It wasn’t Ravik’s words—it was the silence that followed. The silence always made it worse.

He made his way through the narrow streets of the Inner Sanctum, past the identical gray buildings that lined the roads like tombstones. Every citizen he passed kept their heads down, moving with purpose, avoiding eye contact. The streets were always clean, orderly, just as the Veil demanded. Caius found it oddly comforting. As long as everyone followed the rules, nothing would change. No surprises, no chaos.

Yet beneath that comfort, there was something else. Something darker.

He rounded a corner and came to a stop in front of the towering structure that dominated the center of the Inner Sanctum. The Nexus, the heart of Noxus. It stood like a monolith, its black spires piercing the sky, casting long shadows over the city. It was from here that the Veil maintained control, issuing decrees, watching over every citizen. Keeping order.

Caius took a deep breath, his eyes lingering on the building for a moment longer than usual. He felt a chill creep up his spine. There was no reason for it, no cause. Just the cold, distant sensation that something wasn’t right. Something inside him, or perhaps outside him, was shifting.

He turned away from the Nexus and continued his patrol. Whatever it was, it would pass. He had a job to do, and there was no time for doubt.

Caius continued his patrol through the narrow streets, his mind wandering despite his efforts to keep focused. His hands gripped the straps of his uniform tightly, the familiar pressure grounding him, but only just. The Revenants—the elite enforcers of The Veil—had been making their presence more felt lately, and that meant more eyes on him. More eyes on everyone. The Revenants were faceless, hooded figures, their black armor gleaming in the dim light of the Inner Sanctum. They rarely spoke, and when they did, it was with quiet authority, their words carrying the weight of The Veil behind them.

Today, they were out in force. Caius had seen at least three patrols by the time he’d made it to the Nexus square. They moved in perfect synchrony, a shadowy presence against the rigid order of Noxus. He couldn’t help but feel a slight chill whenever they passed.

The square itself was a stark contrast to the lifeless buildings surrounding it—wide, open, but always desolate. People moved quickly through it, heads down, never lingering longer than they had to. The towering spires of the Nexus dominated the space, its black steel exterior casting an oppressive shadow over everything. The air felt thinner here, heavy with the weight of unseen power.

Caius noticed something unusual today, though. As he crossed the square, a small group had gathered near the eastern edge, just by one of the observation towers. Crowds were rare, and curiosity tugged at him. He veered off his usual path and headed toward the gathering, his fingers brushing the sidearm strapped to his belt out of habit.

The people were murmuring in low voices, casting quick, nervous glances at one another. Caius pushed his way to the front, and there, on the ground, was the source of their attention—a faded, tattered piece of cloth, scrawled with a symbol he’d never seen before. It wasn’t the emblem of The Veil. It wasn’t anything he recognized.

He crouched down, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. The symbol was crude, hastily drawn in dark red ink. Two intersecting lines forming a rough “X,” with a circle around it. There was something about it that stirred something deep inside him, a flicker of recognition that he couldn’t place.

“What is this?” Caius muttered, mostly to himself.

Before he could think too long on it, a low, gravelly voice cut through the crowd. “Step away.”

Caius stood up, turning to face the speaker. Ravik, one of the Revenants, was standing a few feet away, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the crowd. His face was obscured by the black mask all Revenants wore, but his piercing eyes were visible through the narrow slits. He wasn’t alone; two other Revenants flanked him, their black armor gleaming under the cold light of the square.

Ravik stepped forward, his eyes locking onto Caius. “You’re out of line, Drex.”

“I didn’t—” Caius began, but Ravik silenced him with a single raised hand.

“The Veil will handle this,” Ravik said, his voice low but commanding. “There’s nothing for you here.”

Caius swallowed, the tension in the air thickening. It wasn’t Ravik’s words—it was the silence that followed. The silence always made it worse.

The Revenants moved quickly. Ravik bent down, retrieving the cloth and folding it neatly, tucking it into his coat. The crowd began to disperse as if on command, people hurrying away with their heads down, eager to distance themselves from whatever had just happened.

Caius lingered a moment longer, watching as Ravik and the others disappeared back toward the Nexus with the mysterious cloth in hand. There was something more to this. Something they weren’t telling him.

As he turned to leave, a voice caught his ear. Low, barely audible, but there.

“The Fracture is rising.”

Caius whipped his head around, his eyes scanning the thinning crowd. But whoever had whispered those words had already vanished into the sea of gray-clad citizens.

He stood there for a moment, frozen. The Fracture—the wasteland beyond the walls of Noxus. The place of the forgotten, the rebels, the outcasts. He had heard rumors of unrest out there, whispered conversations in dark corners about those who defied The Veil. But it had always seemed distant, irrelevant. A problem for the Revenants to deal with, not him.

Yet something about that whispered phrase gnawed at him.

The Fracture is rising.

With a final glance toward the Nexus, Caius turned and resumed his patrol, the strange symbol and the whispered warning echoing in his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was changing, something was shifting beneath the surface of Noxus. And he had no idea how close he was to being pulled into the heart of it.

The cold hum of the Nexus’ corridors always set Caius on edge, but today it felt different—more oppressive, more sinister. He had been summoned by one of the upper officers, the request sudden and without explanation. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called in for a direct mission, but the tension in the air was thicker than usual.

As Caius entered the chamber, he noticed the same cold steel and minimalism that defined the whole structure. The Veil didn’t believe in unnecessary comforts. In the center of the room stood Korvath, one of the high-ranking officers within The Veil. His imposing frame cast a shadow over the room, his face expressionless as always. Caius felt a shiver of unease run down his spine. Korvath wasn’t a man who summoned people lightly.

"You're needed in the Fracture," Korvath said, his voice as sharp as the air in the Nexus. "A disturbance has been detected near the East Ridge."

Caius frowned, trying to keep his expression neutral. "What kind of disturbance?"

Korvath didn’t answer immediately, his dark eyes unreadable. "That's not your concern," he said finally, his tone brooking no argument. "You are to find out who or what is behind it. A small group, perhaps. Handle it discreetly. We can't afford any attention being drawn to this."

The ambiguity unsettled him, but Caius nodded, knowing better than to question the orders of someone like Korvath. There was no room for debate. He wasn’t sure why he was being sent into the Fracture; he had never been beyond the walls before. But the way Korvath had phrased it—it was more than just curiosity driving him now. Something was wrong.

"Understood," Caius replied, his voice steady, though his mind raced with uncertainty.

Korvath turned his back to him, signaling the end of the conversation. "Report back when the mission is complete."

Without another word, Caius left the chamber. His pulse quickened. A mission outside the walls. He’d always been told how dangerous the Fracture was, how nothing but chaos and rebellion existed beyond the safety of the Inner Sanctum. But today, he would see for himself.

The gates of Noxus loomed before him, their immense size and cold, reinforced steel serving as a reminder of the divide between the order of the city and the chaos beyond. Caius stood in the shadow of the gates, feeling their weight not just physically, but symbolically. The Revenants guarded the perimeter as always, their faceless masks hiding any hint of emotion as they nodded for the gates to open.

Caius swallowed hard as he watched the gates part, revealing the sprawling wasteland of the Fracture. It stretched out endlessly, a barren, desolate landscape of crumbled buildings, scorched earth, and jagged cliffs. The wind howled as it rushed through the open space, carrying with it a biting cold that stung his skin.

Steeling himself, Caius took his first step outside the walls.

The ground beneath him felt different—uneven, unwelcoming. He could feel the weight of the air, heavier, more oppressive. It was as though the world itself beyond the city was resisting him.

After walking for several minutes, Caius glanced down at his hands. At first, he thought it was just the shadow of the overcast sky playing tricks on him, but there was no mistaking it. The edges of his fingers were darkening, as though a shadow was creeping up his skin.

His breath caught in his throat. He flexed his hands, watching as the black hue slowly crawled up his arms, seeping into his skin like ink spreading through water. It wasn’t like bruising—it was deeper, something more invasive. The veins in his arms darkened as well, their network standing out starkly against the increasingly blackened skin.

He wiped his hand over his mouth, feeling the unfamiliar chill as the color continued to shift. His skin—his body—was changing, reacting to something beyond the walls of Noxus.

But what?

The thought gnawed at him as he pressed forward. The transformation didn’t hurt, exactly, but it made him feel... disconnected, like part of him was slipping away. His breathing quickened, panic clawing at the edges of his mind, but he forced it down. This wasn’t the time to lose control. He had a mission to complete.

The East Ridge wasn’t far now. The jagged cliffs that surrounded the Fracture rose in the distance, cutting into the sky like the teeth of some ancient beast. Caius kept his focus ahead, trying to ignore the creeping blackness slowly consuming his hands and forearms.

The mission. Focus on the mission.

But the more he walked, the harder it became to ignore the growing sense of dread. His skin continued to darken, the shadow spreading further up his body, inch by inch. And with it came a faint whisper in the back of his mind, a voice he couldn’t quite make out. It was distant, like an echo in an empty room, yet it felt... familiar.

As the walls of Noxus faded behind him, so too did the warmth. The Fracture was cold, not just in temperature but in the very air, as if the land itself rejected his presence. It was as though he was being swallowed by something far greater than just the wasteland outside the walls.

Caius stopped, breathing heavy in the desolate expanse of the Fracture. The wind whipped around him, a hollow, biting gust that only made the silence more oppressive. He looked down at his hands again. The blackness had crept further—up his wrists, swirling like smoke under his skin, sinking deeper with each passing second.

Panic surged through him. He scrubbed at his forearm, hard, trying to wipe away the darkness as if it were dirt, something that could be erased. His fingers scraped against his skin, pressing harder until it almost hurt, but the blackness remained—stubborn, unmoving, as though it had always been there.

“No,” Caius muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the wind. He rubbed harder, frantic now, trying again and again. His hand moved up to his wrist, clawing at the inky tendrils that curled just beneath the surface, but it was no use. The black wouldn’t fade, wouldn’t smudge—it only deepened, crawling up his arm like it had a life of its own.

His heart raced as the panic clawed its way through him. What was happening to him? He pressed his thumb into the skin, grinding it into his flesh in desperation, but all that did was leave an aching bruise. The blackness remained, indifferent to his struggle.

Caius dropped his arm, staring at it in disbelief. The cold from the Fracture had settled in his bones now, and his skin felt strange, distant, like it wasn’t his anymore.

He clenched his fists, fighting the growing fear in his chest, but no matter how much he rubbed, no matter how hard he tried, the black remained—silent, creeping, a shadow that had already taken hold.

Caius stopped for a moment, glancing back at the city, now a distant silhouette on the horizon. He flexed his fingers again, watching the blackness twist and crawl beneath his skin. He had never felt more isolated than he did now, standing at the threshold of something unknown.

He took a deep breath, turning his back to the city and walking further into the Fracture, the unsettling transformation continuing to creep along his body.

Caius stumbled forward, his breath quickening as the blackness continued to spread up his arms. The wind picked up, howling through the jagged ruins of the Fracture, making the barren landscape feel even more desolate. He couldn’t shake the sensation creeping over him—the feeling that something was wrong, not just with his skin, but deep inside him.

A crackling noise cut through the wind. Caius stopped, his head snapping up. In the distance, something moved, a flash of motion between the shattered remains of a building. His instincts kicked in before he could think—he ducked behind a crumbling wall, crouching low, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

He wasn’t alone out here.

His heart raced, and his pulse pounded in his ears. The mission was supposed to be simple—observe, report. But now, the stillness of the Fracture felt like a trap. His muscles tensed, ready to bolt if necessary. Then, a shadow moved again—closer this time. Whoever it was, they were approaching fast.

Caius shifted, drawing his sidearm and peering around the edge of the wall. In the distance, through the dust and debris, he could make out the vague shape of three figures moving toward him. They were swift, deliberate, their movements precise.

He gritted his teeth, his finger hovering over the trigger. But then something strange happened.

His vision flickered.

For a moment, the world seemed to blur, and the figures ahead moved in slow motion, as though reality itself had distorted. The blackness on his skin pulsed, and a cold, eerie calm washed over him. His body moved before his mind could catch up, his limbs guided by something that wasn’t his own will.

Caius leaped out from behind the wall, fluid and unnaturally graceful, his mind protesting but his body acting on its own accord. The figures noticed him too late—by the time they raised their weapons, Caius was already closing in.

His arm shot forward, the sidearm discharging with a crack. One of the figures went down, collapsing in a heap as a spray of blood painted the broken stone behind them. Caius felt nothing—no remorse, no hesitation—just a cold detachment as he turned toward the others.

The second figure lunged at him, a blade flashing in their hand. Caius ducked beneath the swing, moving with an agility he didn’t recognize. His body was faster, sharper, reacting before his mind could process the threat. He spun, driving his elbow into the attacker's ribs with bone-crushing force. There was a sickening crack as the figure dropped, their body limp.

The third figure hesitated, clearly shaken by what they had just witnessed. Caius’ vision flickered again, and suddenly, he was in front of them, his arm snapping forward like a viper. His hand gripped the figure’s throat with a strength that wasn’t his own, lifting them off the ground with ease. They struggled, gasping, but Caius held firm, his grip tightening.

His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind felt strangely distant, as though he were watching himself from afar. The world had narrowed into sharp clarity, every sound, every movement amplified. He felt a surge of raw power flooding his veins, the cold blackness spreading faster up his arms, across his chest.

“Stop,” the figure gasped, clawing at his arm, their voice choked with panic.

But Caius didn’t. He squeezed harder, watching as the life drained from the figure’s eyes. Then, with a final flick of his wrist, he tossed the body aside like it weighed nothing.

Silence settled over the wasteland again.

Caius stood there, chest heaving, his fists clenched at his sides. The blackness had reached his neck now, dark tendrils twisting beneath his skin. He looked down at his hands, blood spattered across them, his heart racing—but not from fear.

For the briefest of moments, something inside him reveled in the power he’d just unleashed. The cold detachment, the effortless strength, the way his body had moved with precision, almost inhuman. It felt like he had become something more.

But then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling began to fade. His vision cleared, and he felt his knees buckle slightly, the exhaustion catching up to him. The bodies lay motionless on the ground around him, and the reality of what he’d done hit him like a wave.

He staggered back, his chest tightening. What had just happened? How had he moved like that? He wiped his hands on his uniform, trying to rid himself of the blood, but it was no use. His mind whirled with confusion, with fear.

The blackness still lingered on his skin, a constant reminder that something had changed. Something inside him had awakened, and whatever it was, it wasn’t under his control.

Caius moved through the wasteland like a shadow, his mind still reeling from what had just happened. The cold wind howled around him, carrying with it the scent of decay and dust, but his focus remained on the distant shapes ahead—the crumbling remnants of what once might have been a town. Abandoned structures dotted the horizon, their skeletal forms silhouetted against the gray sky.

The further he walked, the more the weight of the Fracture pressed down on him. Every step seemed to drag him deeper into its bleakness. His skin still tingled, the blackness swirling beneath it, crawling up his arms, wrapping around his chest like invisible chains. His fingers twitched, his muscles still thrumming with the strange power that had overtaken him during the fight. But now, with no immediate threat, the sensation was suffocating.

He needed to stop, to think, to understand what was happening to him.

The town appeared before him as he crossed a broken, crumbling road. The buildings were small, their roofs collapsed, windows shattered and doorways yawning wide. The once thriving community had long since been claimed by the wasteland. No life stirred here, no signs of recent activity. It was a graveyard, a forgotten piece of the Fracture.

Caius approached the nearest building, a house, its door hanging by a single rusted hinge. He pushed it open with a creak, the noise unnaturally loud in the stillness. Dust filled the air inside, swirling around him as he stepped in. The house was in ruin—furniture overturned, walls cracked and peeling, debris scattered across the floor. Yet, it was strangely untouched, as though no one had dared to enter since it had been abandoned.

His eyes scanned the room as he walked deeper into the house, his boots crunching over broken glass and rubble. There was an eerie silence here, the kind that felt thick, like the place itself was holding its breath.

In the corner, half-hidden behind a collapsed cabinet, Caius spotted a mirror—broken and caked with grime, but still intact enough to catch his reflection. He approached it slowly, almost reluctantly, as though afraid of what he might see. The room felt colder, the shadows longer, as he stood before it.

The mirror was cracked down the middle, distorting his reflection, but even through the dirt and damage, he could see it. The blackness.

It had spread. His neck was streaked with inky tendrils, the veins dark and pronounced, snaking upward from his chest. His arms, once a pale gray from the dust of the Fracture, were now almost entirely blackened, as though the shadow beneath his skin had consumed them. He raised a hand slowly, watching the black veins pulse faintly beneath the surface, his fingers trembling.

But it wasn’t just the blackness.

His eyes.

He leaned closer to the mirror, his breath fogging the glass. His eyes were glowing. A dull, burning orange light radiated from his pupils, flickering like embers caught in a breeze. They seemed alive, crackling with some kind of energy, the same energy that had surged through him during the fight. It was unnatural, alien—not him.

He staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The blackness, the glow—it was as though something else was living inside him, taking control. His heart raced as his reflection stared back at him, hollow, haunted. He didn’t recognize himself anymore.

“What... what is this?” Caius whispered, his voice barely audible in the abandoned house.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He had heard stories of people affected by the Fracture—twisted, warped—but this felt different. The power coursing through him was not just a byproduct of the wasteland. It was something else. Something more insidious.

He stumbled back toward the door, his eyes still locked on the reflection in the mirror, the glowing orange irises glaring back at him through the cracked glass. He could feel the darkness beneath his skin, tightening its grip, like it was alive—like it had a purpose.

The air in the house felt heavy, suffocating, and Caius needed to get out. He tore his gaze from the mirror, pushing through the debris and back into the open air, his mind in turmoil. Whatever had taken hold of him was growing stronger, and for the first time, he felt a deep, gnawing fear that he wasn’t in control anymore.

Caius moved cautiously through the abandoned town, the oppressive silence weighing heavily in the air. Each footfall echoed against the crumbling structures, and the shadows cast by the derelict buildings felt as if they were alive, looming and watching him. He felt exposed, the cold wind biting at his skin.

Then, in a flash of movement, he caught sight of a figure just beyond the edge of his vision. Caius turned, adrenaline surging as he raised his weapon, ready to confront whatever threat loomed in the shadows. The man stepped forward into the light, tall and rugged, his presence commanding. His unkempt hair and beard framed a weathered face marked by scars, but it was the symbol on his uniform that caught Caius's attention—a circle with an X drawn through it.

The man’s eyes locked onto Caius, and in that instant, the air crackled with tension. Without a word, the two stood frozen, each assessing the other, both aware of the silent struggle between them.

Suddenly, Caius felt a surge within him, the darkness creeping back, the familiar pull of power rising beneath his skin. His vision blurred, and the orange glow ignited in his eyes, illuminating the space around him. The man’s expression shifted, concern etching deeper into his features.

Caius’s body moved against his will, the darkness urging him to strike. He lunged forward, aiming for the man with a wild swing, but at the last moment, the man sidestepped, avoiding the attack. He caught Caius’s arm with surprising strength, twisting it behind his back.

“Fight it!” the man shouted, urgency lining his voice. “Don’t let it take control!”

Caius struggled against the grip, feeling the energy inside him surge, almost overwhelming. He gasped, the tension rising as he fought to regain control. The man didn’t relent; instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small vial.

“Hold on!” the man urged, moving quickly to force the vial to Caius’s lips. “Just breathe!”

Before Caius could protest, the man pressed the vial against his mouth, the bitter liquid spilling over his lips. He swallowed reflexively, choking on the taste, but almost immediately, a strange warmth spread through him, battling against the darkness that clawed at his consciousness.

Slowly, the orange glow in his eyes began to fade, the world around him sharpening into focus. The disorientation lifted, and he stumbled back as the grip on him loosened, allowing him to regain his footing. Breathing heavily, he looked up at the man.

“What did you do?” Caius gasped, confusion and urgency mingling in his voice.

The man studied him intently, the concern in his eyes softening. “Just a temporary remedy,” he replied, his tone steady but urgent. “You need to get back to Noxus immediately—before they realize what’s happened.”

Caius blinked, still grappling with the remnants of energy thrumming in his veins. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

“Names don’t matter right now,” the man interrupted, his gaze unwavering. “What matters is that you can’t stay here. Trust me. They are not what they seem, and you need to get back before they find out what happened.”

Caius felt a sense of urgency in the man’s words, and for a moment, fear coursed through him. “What do you know?”

“More than I’d like,” the man replied cryptically, glancing around as if he feared being seen. “Get back to the city. Come back to the Fracture without them knowing, and I promise I’ll explain everything.”

Caius hesitated, wrestling with the weight of the man’s warning. But there was a gravity in his tone, a hint of truth that sparked something within him. He nodded slowly, determination creeping in. “I’ll go back.”

“Good,” the man said, his voice steady. “Just remember, trust your instincts. Stay low, keep your head down. You have to be careful.”

With a final nod, Caius turned, heart pounding as he moved swiftly through the desolate streets, the urgency of the moment propelling him forward. The darkness still lingered beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the battle he had fought—and of the fight that lay ahead. The encounter had left him shaken, but he felt a flicker of resolve igniting within him. Whatever had happened, he would uncover the truth, and he would find a way to reclaim his own power.