The elevator lurched once more, then slowly glided to a stop. A soft ding echoed through the small compartment. Jay and Nathan shared a look—equal parts relief and apprehension.
Jay swallowed, feeling his throat painfully dry. "Ready?"
Nathan gave a humorless chuckle. "Not even close. But let's do it anyway."
The doors slid open with a gentle hiss, revealing… nothing.
Nothing but darkness.
Jay blinked. His eyes strained, seeing only blackness that felt heavy, almost suffocating. "What the hell…?"
Nathan clicked on his flashlight. A bright cone of light cut through the gloom, revealing a cavernous space. The beam swept over cracked tiles and scattered debris, then up—up—to where a high ceiling was almost entirely swallowed by shadows.
Jay turned on his own light. Together, they traced the walls and saw why the place was so dark: massive sheets of thick, pitch-black fabric hung over enormous windows, blocking out everything beyond. It was as if the building had been carefully wrapped to keep the outside world from ever creeping in.
Nathan let out a long breath. "Feels like we're inside a giant coffin."
"Yeah," Jay agreed, voice tight. His nerves itched, that restless energy from the system urging him to move, to be cautious. "Only one way to find out where we really are."
Jay stepped forward, scanning the room. Dust floated in the air, disturbed by their movement, catching the light like drifting silver motes. A cold draft whispered past, carrying with it the faint scent of rust and old stone.
Then Jay's flashlight landed on one of the black drapes. It was pinned over a wide window that stretched almost from floor to ceiling. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the heavy fabric.
"Wait!" Nathan hissed, grabbing his arm. "What are you doing? You don't know what's out there!"
Jay hesitated, heart thundering. But something inside him—curiosity, stubbornness, maybe the thrill of having survived so much already—pushed him on.
"We have to know," he said quietly. "Where are we supposed to go if we stay blind?"
Before Nathan could argue again, Jay yanked the curtain aside.
Light exploded into the room.
Both of them staggered back, shielding their eyes. For a long moment, all Jay saw was white—brilliant, painful, after so long trapped underground. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.
Slowly, painfully, the glare faded, and the world came into focus.
What they saw made them both fall silent.
Outside stretched a city—vast and sprawling, nestled between low green hills. Towers of glass and steel rose in elegant spires, catching the first gold and pink rays of morning. Roads wound like silver ribbons through the streets, and distant rooftops glowed as though dusted with fire from the rising sun.
Nathan lowered his hand, a slow smile breaking across his face. "Jay… that's… incredible."
Jay exhaled, a laugh bubbling up despite everything. "It's beautiful. I almost forgot what the sky looked like."
"Yeah. A real sunrise." Nathan shook his head, grin widening. "Guess we survived hell just to step into heaven."
Jay leaned against the window frame, soaking it in. For a moment, they were just two young men again—no blood, no monsters, no powers—staring at a world that still held something bright and alive.
But deep down, they both knew this was only the beginning. And out there, beyond the glass, lay challenges neither of them could yet imagine.
As they stood by the vast window, savoring the sunrise, Jay let his eyes drift down—and stiffened. "Uh… Nathan. Look."
Nathan followed his gaze. Through breaks in the nearby buildings, they could see that they were astonishingly high up. The floor beneath their feet wasn't just another level—it was the very top floor of an enormous industrial tower perched on the side of a small mountain, just outside the main sprawl of the city.
"Well, shit," Nathan muttered. "That's gonna be a climb."
Jay gave a weak laugh. "Yeah. Beats fighting demons, though."
They found a stairwell tucked behind a rusted emergency door. The descent felt endless—floor after floor of cracked steps, peeling paint, and abandoned storage rooms. Sunlight filtered through shattered windows in golden beams, catching on swirling dust. Now and then, the building creaked ominously, and both of them would freeze, half-expecting another monster to lurch out of the shadows.
But nothing came.
They finally emerged through a battered steel door at the base of the tower. Outside, the fresh morning air rushed over them, cool and sweet compared to the stagnant gloom they'd left behind. The grassy slope of the mountain rolled gently down toward the city's edge. Beyond lay roads bustling with early traffic and people going about their lives—blissfully unaware of the nightmares hidden just a few stories above.
"Feels surreal, doesn't it?" Nathan said, taking a deep breath. "Like we've been dropped from a horror story straight into a painting."
Jay smiled, though his eyes were wary. "Yeah. And the painting's probably got more monsters lurking under the canvas."
Nathan snorted. "Optimistic as always."
They picked their way down the mountain, hopping over rusted fences and carefully squeezing through old security grilles that had long since lost their purpose. Birds flitted between gnarled trees, and the sun rose higher, burning away the last of the dawn mist.
At the bottom, they found themselves on a cracked asphalt road that led straight into the city's outer districts. The buildings here were a jumble of older stone structures and newer glass towers, with colorful signs and the chatter of street vendors already filling the air.
People bustled past—merchants hauling carts, armored security patrols on squat electric bikes, kids chasing each other through narrow alleys. For a moment, Jay and Nathan stood there, just taking it all in.
"Tomorrow morning?" Nathan asked at last, his voice lower.
Jay nodded. "Yeah. We go register at the Hunter Association. Make this… official. You'll meet me at my place?"
"Deal. Get some rest, try not to get killed overnight."
Jay cracked a grin. "Same to you, shadow boy."
Nathan gave him a mock salute, then disappeared into the throng, swallowed up by the vibrant life of the city.
Jay turned toward his own neighborhood. It was quieter here—low buildings with little gardens, worn cobblestone paths, and old street lamps that clicked off one by one as the sun fully claimed the sky.
When he reached his house, he let out a long breath. The front gate squealed as he pushed it open.
"Home," he murmured.
Inside, the little living room was empty. No sign of his older sister, who probably wouldn't be home until late from work. His grandfather's old slippers sat neatly by the door, but the old man must've gone out for his morning walk.
Jay headed straight for the bathroom. The hot water felt like heaven on his battered skin, washing away the grime, sweat, and dried demon blood. He leaned against the tile, eyes closed, letting himself believe—just for a moment—that everything was normal.
Afterward, he raided the kitchen, tossing together bread, eggs, and whatever else he could find. He devoured it like a man starving, which in a sense he was.
Finally, he collapsed onto his bed. The system window hovered faintly at the edge of his vision, a reminder of how everything had changed. But for now, Jay just smiled, closed his eyes, and drifted into the deepest, most peaceful sleep he'd had in years.