The journey is what matters more than the destination itself.
Apparently, to Lucid, for many, the journey is worth more than the destination itself.
He had read the quote a thousand times, printed across classroom posters, survival handbooks, even the academy's walls. But every time, he felt the same bitter amusement rise in his chest.
"How do they even come up with this crap…"
'How are they getting more creative with these quotes..'
After all that, it seemed like Lucid and his group had managed to defy fate itself, even if it seemed no less than a struggle for survival and a duty to save 'mankind.' It was a long, arduous journey, but worth it in the end.
'But hey, better be alive than dead…'
So, when asked the question, if the journey was more worth than the destination itself to Lucid, he didn't give it as much as a single thought. It was clear to him. Why struggle so hard for something not even guaranteed? It was too much of a hassle.
'The destination was worth by a thousand times. I could go through this journey a million times and still feel any less about it.'
'For, after all, comparing saving the world and battling my way for survival, being shunned, losing a friend—saving the world is a sweet destination if you ask me.'
'That and balancing these treacherous expeditions and my school life is one hell of a task too.'
However, he didn't have the luxury to dwell on those thoughts and recollections right now. He wasn't an Enlightened, so, of all people in his cohort, he had to put in the most effort to prepare for whatever hardship awaited them that week. Thinking about it, he couldn't help but feel a faint tinge of anxiety. After every assessment and training session, a single thought lingered stubbornly at the back of his mind:
'What if I'm not prepared enough?'
'That week.'
"Well, whether I'm prepared or not, I'll die anyway… so there's no point in worrying," he muttered to himself, walking past the school corridors, while others looked at him weirdly as if he was talking to himself.
It was an absurd statement, one that clashed with the gravity of the situation, but it was true. If he wasn't prepared, he would die. If he was prepared but his cohort wasn't, the result would be the same. And if he refused to participate... death would still come for him.
With that thought, a dull ache stirred at the side of his stomach as he entered his dorm, pain that was more like his anxiety. As he sat beneath the cracked ceiling of the academy dorm, fingers brushing the faint purple bruise spreading across his ribs, Lucid couldn't help but think otherwise.
"Hnnngh…" he groaned quietly while moving to his mirror.
His reflection in the window looked pale, exhausted. The veins beneath his skin pulsed faintly, tainted with a dull violet hue like usual—it was slowly eating him from within. What he saw was the same as always, only this time, it had grown larger. A deep purple blotch pulsed beneath his skin, spreading from his waist all the way up to his ribcage.
"Damn it… if I hadn't been cursed with this ailment, I'd never have signed up for this in the first place!"
The Day of Calamity
On a hill, two figures stood waiting as the sun began to set. The sky burned orange—it was the golden hour, but anxiety still lingered. The girl beside him looked uneasy, her hands and shoulders trembling slightly.
They were assigned to patrol outside the perimeter, just in front of the rift, in case any abominations slipped past the group in the rift that would try to escape. That was Lucid's only job now, ever since their leader and the others had grown stronger.
He didn't mind it. After all their exhausting expeditions, he was always the one who seemed closest to death.
The red-haired girl glanced at him, noticing his oddly calm expression.
"Hey, for someone who's not an Enlightened, you sure are calm, Lucid."
He heard her, but his eyes remained fixed on the rift—a terrifying yet strangely beautiful sight. It looked like a crack in the very fabric of time, shards of light and shadow reflecting fragments of reality like glass, mid-air.
"Well," he said quietly, "I've been in too many life-and-death situations by now. Just standing outside a rift between hell and earth feels… normal now."
The girl let out a soft chuckle. His words sounded ridiculous, yet she knew they were true. She had seen first-hand how many times he'd barely escaped those abominable creatures.
"How's the… thing holding up? You know…"
Lucid finally turned his gaze toward her. Of course, he knew what she meant. How could he not?
"Worse," he admitted.
She lowered her eyes as the last of the sunlight faded. The sun had fully set.
"But I won't be a hindrance," he added.
"Don't worry, Kaori."
"You're so full of shit, Lucid." She smiled faintly.
At the rift's edge, just as four figures emerged. Weapons drawn, they seemed tired and battered except for the one leading. One of them walked a certain way with confidence, while the three others managed awkward steps, dismissing his weapon into a flicker of light. Not just anyone—the leader, Renji, seemed visibly agitated and concerned. Of course, Lucid, being his longtime friend, naturally picked up on this long since they exited the rift they had come from.
"How did it go?" Kaori asked, eyes bright.
Renji, the leader, looked confident on the surface, but Lucid caught a trace of worry behind it—something he had never seen in him before.
"Smooth enough."
'Smooth for you?!' Lucid thought.
"Things have drifted farther from our plan. The twisted monsters and abominations are coming to Earth," Renji continued. "There are too many rifts to contain them."
"We did our best, but we're six against an army of monsters."
The others bowed their heads, exhausted and despondent, except for a certain pink-haired girl who stared at Lucid as if he were the cause of all this. He could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of his face, and he knew who it was.
"But there is hope," he continued.
'Why is he lying?' Lucid thought.
"We've located a deity in this vast ocean of hell. I can only imagine it's the cause of this, as it radiates strong fate particles. So the plan changes."
"In two hours, Earth will be engulfed in hell. The military stands no chance, the media and the people are unaware, and people will die."
Renji turned toward the rift.
"What I ask is this: don't focus on the monsters. Ignore them. Let them be."
Lucid opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. Who was he to be a hero? What could he possibly have done differently?
"We need to kill the deity. We need to kill it, whatever it is."
"I've seen it, and it's not beyond us. I believe in all of you." He smiled, then looked at Lucid with a smirk. "Still sleeping on duty, huh?"
Lucid rubbed his eyes. "I wasn't asleep."
"He was," Kaori muttered, shaken but trying to mask her voice with humour.
The leader let the murmurs between the group die down and raised his voice.
"Everyone. My dearest comrades and friends," he began, letting his gaze linger briefly on Lucid. "Today, we confirmed the source of the apocalypse. In two hours, the world will be engulfed in hell. We've fought hard; we've lost friends, dreams, and normalcy, but we haven't lost our resolve. I'm proud of all of you. Rest well for these two hours. For in this evening… we will reclaim our future, our livelihoods, and our destiny. Even if we fall, we shall fall with bright smiles on our faces."
A spark of morale rekindled across the group, Kaori, the red-haired girl, included.
Lucid watched him for a moment before turning away—only to find himself face to face with a familiar, ever-so-dreadful person. He couldn't tell why she bore such ill feelings towards him, but now it had become the norm. Her pink-gray hair fluttered as she crossed her arms, giving him a look of pure disdain.
"Oh... hey," Lucid said awkwardly.
"Hello."
She didn't look away, staring deep into his eyes as if holding eye contact was her only task at hand. Her gaze made him feel weirdly anxious, even. Like she could peer through the deepest part of his soul.
"Why don't you give a speech yourself, Lucid?" she smiled sadistically.
'Oh great, what is it this time?' Lucid looked down out of discontent. Her passive-aggressiveness was always a part of her daily routine when it came to him, but now it seemed to be more pronounced than ever.
'If anything, I don't know if you can consider that passive-aggressiveness anymore.'
"I wonder when you'll finally stand up for the group instead of tagging along," she said coldly.
"Don't get me wrong—our leader may be your friend, but he carries more than you ever will. You are borderline useless. Why are you so desperate to fight with us as an ordinary human?"
'Why are you asking that even though you already know....'
"Aika, this is the last time we'll be seeing each other," Lucid said quietly. "Instead of fighting like we always do… why don't we work together this time?"
She let out a sharp scoff, crossing her arms.
"You? Work with me? Hah, keep dreaming."
Her glare cut deep, her words sharper still. "Just go die already. You'll never become an Enlightened."
She turned away, humming faintly to herself as she walked toward the others, not even sparing him a final glance.
"Well, it's not like we'll be seeing each other again after this, even if we win. Good luck, Aika." Lucid muttered under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked off in the opposite direction.
The Eve of Calamity
Buildings collapsed. The world had been enveloped in a crimson-red color. The final battle was underway. Twisted creatures ran around the town, devouring people and destroying buildings and vehicles.
Renji was nowhere to be seen. The group had scattered across the city as rifts continued to spawn everywhere—streets, alleys, the very heart of the town. The news blared from broken screens, repeating the same line over and over: "New incidents emerging across the country—" Kaori, the red-haired girl, lay unconscious, cradled over Lucid's shoulders.
"We have to fall back!" Lucid shouted. "We can try again—"
But there was nowhere left to retreat to. Home was already gone.
He set Kaori down onto Aika's shoulders. Aika sliced through the chaos with a venomous laugh.
"Suits you, Lucid. Just know this: all of this? It's your fault—"
"I don't care. Just get her to safety!" he snapped, cutting her off.
They ran. Behind them, the rifts belched forth endless waves of twisted creatures, each fissure widening as if hungry. If things had looked hopeless before, they looked worse now.
Lucid stayed at the rear, holding the line so the others could escape.
His handgun, what he'd switched to after his automatic rifle had emptied, clicked dry. Empty.
Ten grotesque beasts lunged at him, barreling and crawling over one another in savage frenzy. He spat onto the dust-choked ground; blood trickled from a gash on his forehead, clouding one eye. Vision blurred, but he didn't slow.
Fueled by frustration and sheer will, he thrust his hand into his back pocket.
"Come on… something heavy…"
He pulled out a small spherical object that looked like a grenade. He readied himself, teeth gritted, and snarled,
"Die!"
He ripped the pin free. The monsters closed in. For a moment, he stood there, grenade in hand, eyes squeezed shut as a dangerous thought flickered across his mind:
Should I just—?
Time was running out. Desperation flared, and he hurled the grenade forward, pouring every scrap of will into the throw.
At that moment, the world split open.
A thunderous blast rocked the ground, flames consuming the field ahead. Smoke billowed up in columns. When it cleared, only scorched rubble and dismembered limbs remained. The monsters were gone—obliterated.
Lucid exhaled sharply, chest rising and falling in pained rhythm. He wiped the blood from his face with a trembling hand, the metallic taste lingering in his mouth.
"Did I... do all that?" he wondered briefly, staring at the destruction.
For a moment, he feared—what if a civilian had been caught in that blast?
But the thought faded as his knees carried him forward through the smoke.
"Doesn't matter. My group… they're safe. That's what counts."
He dashed right, sprinting over broken concrete and splintered glass, sliding beneath the remains of a collapsed overpass. What used to be his favorite convenience store stood twisted in rubble.
No time to think.
Lucid turned sharply, slammed open a nearby door, and threw his body into it, shutting it hard behind him. He immediately began barricading it—pushing a table, a chest of drawers, even an overturned vending machine to fortify his last stand.
His breath was ragged, the adrenaline high starting to fade—but the battle wasn't over.
Not yet.
Lucid sprinted down the corridor, his lungs burning, legs screaming with every step. The air reeked of smoke and blood. Gunfire cracked in the distance. The walls blurred past him—he couldn't tell if it was from the speed or the tears stinging his eyes.
They were just ahead. He could hear them. The team. His so-called friends.
Just a little further.
"There!"
A door at the end, slightly ajar, glowing with the faint promise of escape. Safety. A second chance.
Lucid reached out, every fiber of his being stretching toward that light.
And then—
He got shoved.
A sharp force hit his chest. His balance shattered.
He stumbled and fell.
His back slammed into the cold floor. Pain exploded through his limbs, dull and spreading.
"Wh-What…?!" he gasped, blinking up at the figure standing over him.
Aika.
Her face stared down at him, not with emptiness.
Her expression was unreadable. Arms were crossed.
She seemed cold and distant.
"This is where it ends, Lucid."
Her voice was calm—too calm, almost practiced.
"We can't afford to carry you anymore."
Lucid's breath caught. His hands pushed weakly against the floor.
"What… what are you doing? We're almost there, I—"
"You've always hesitated," she cut in.
"You freeze when things get hard. You look for exits instead of standing your ground."
Lucid's heart was pounding.
"That's not true," he whispered. "I—I fight—I'm here, aren't I?"
"You fight when it's convenient, and you run when it matters."
Something in her tone broke. Just slightly. But she didn't let it show.
"This… this is mercy."
Lucid opened his mouth to argue—but pain bloomed in his arms, his legs. A deep, cold ache.
He couldn't move.
He was paralyzed.
"What… what did you do…?"
"I used the suppressor on you," she replied, almost mechanically. "You should've known we were prepared for this."
Lucid's thoughts spiraled.
She planned this.
No… they planned for this.
"Aika… why?" he said, voice cracking. "I've known you since we were kids—Kaori, the others—they'll come back. They won't let this—"
"Kaori doesn't know," she said, looking away. "She wouldn't have approved. But the others… agreed it was time."
Lucid stared at her, a hollow wind ripping through his chest.
"Is this what I was to you? Dead weight?"
"You were, for lack of a better word, a liability."
Her voice shook now.
"I hated watching you stall. You always waited for someone else to make the first move. As useful as you were, I grew sick of you. And now, since the apocalypse is here, I might as well speed things up."
She paused, a tear falling down her chin.
"You… y… you don't even—"
Her eyes flicked down for just a moment. She took a deep breath and recomposed herself.
"This is kinder than letting you die screaming later," she said coldly.
She turned toward the door.
"No… wait—please—" Lucid's voice cracked into a sob. "Don't leave me—"
"I'm sorry… okay… I'm sorry!!!!!" he pleaded in desperation, tears falling down his cheeks.
The door clicked shut behind her.
There was only silence.
Lucid lay there, frozen, the last warmth of her presence fading like embers snuffed out.
They left me.
She left me.
Even after everything…
Then a form of darkness moved with a suffocating presence.
At first, it was a shadow. Then a writhing mass.
It was a black, shapeless, hungry mass.
Despair itself.
It surged forward, and Lucid's breath caught in his throat. His limbs screamed to move, but they were still stone.
It wrapped around his chest.Pierced his skin.Ripped through his defenses like paper.
This is it.
This is what I was worth to them.
As the black mass swallowed him whole, dragging him into nothing, Lucid's mind splintered.
The last thing he felt before his consciousness got swept away.
Was Regret.
[ You are dead. ]
'Huh...'
He heard a faint, soft voice call out to him.
[ Do you wish to try again? ]
'What is this?'
It echoed in his mind once again as he was floating in the dark void.
[ Do you wish to try again? ]
"No, fuck off. Let me just die."
[ Are you sure? ]
He thought once again about the betrayal, about how he never even had a chance to become an Enlightened.
It's so unfair.
But that's the world. Survival of the fucking fittest, or whatever you may call it.
"Yes."
[ Beginning termination of one's soul. ]
As he heard that, he let loose, giving in to the endless black abyss surrounding him. Was he dead or alive? He couldn't tell. But one thing was for sure—it absolutely hurt. Pain flared up within him as piece by piece his legs broke off into bright glowing cubes.
Great, I can't even die in peace…
Pieces of his thoughts started to collapse into one another. He was starting to forget and lose sensations.
Am I dying?
But a bitter thoughts lingered regardless. Tearing inside away inside his head.
'Why me? What have I done to deserve death?'
'Why do they get to walk away?'
'I haven't hurt a single soul.'
'Yet I am the one who dies?'
'Because I'm a coward?'
'A weakling?'
'Just because I didn't awaken as an Enlightened?'
What the fuck even are they?!'
'No… I can't let it end like this.'
'Please, God, anyone… give me one last chance…'
With every ounce of his last remaining strength, he screamed into the void:
"I want to live!!!"
[ Termination procedure on halt. ]
"Yes… I want to… try again!!!"
[ Error… ]
[ Request granted by higher authority… ]
[ Required Trial time: Infinity ]
[ Trial Rank: Divine ]
Wha… what is this…
His body started to rebuild itself, block by block, as if he was a puzzle piece.
[ Beginning transportation ]
His mind fell unconscious, and darkness remained.
[ M̸a̷y̶ y̴o̷u̵r̸ j̴o̷u̶r̶n̸e̶y̷ l̴e̷a̶d̵ y̸o̴u̶ t̶o̸w̶a̴r̶d̶s̴ E̷n̵l̵i̵g̸h̴t̵e̶n̵m̷e̷n̶t̷ ███████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ]