Chapter 4: A Strange Morning
Richmond woke up to the soft hum of music still playing through his earphones. For a moment, he just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling of the small storage room. The faint morning light slipped through the gap under the door, painting a line across the floor.
"…Morning already?" he muttered, voice groggy. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, his joints popping one by one. "Ugh… back hurts. Note to self: concrete floors are not beds."
He sat up slowly, removing the earphones. The silence returned, heavy but somehow less oppressive than the night before. The events of yesterday felt distant now — like a half-remembered dream.
Green skies, roaring beasts, glowing vines… stadium silence. It all sounded like something out of a late-night anime marathon.
"…Maybe it really was just a crazy dream," he said to no one in particular, forcing a little laugh. "Yeah. I'll walk outside, and boom, traffic jam, neighbor yelling at someone for parking wrong, coffee smell in the air…"
He checked his phone. 36% battery. No service.
The silence stretched a little too long.
"…Okay, maybe not a dream," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
Still, the casual tone lingered in his movements. He opened his backpack, took out a granola bar, and munched while going through his stuff — rearranging gear, counting supplies, tapping his wrench against his palm like a habit. Anything to avoid actually processing the situation.
Then he heard it.
*Scratch… scratch… scratch…*
The sound came from the corridor outside the storage room. Slow. Weak. Familiar. Richmond froze mid-bite.
"…Oh no. Not again," he whispered.
He remembered hearing the same sound before drifting off — but he hadn't dared to check back then. Now, in the calm light of morning, it somehow sounded… less threatening. More like something dragging itself rather than stalking prey.
He stood, wrench in hand, and crept toward the door. Each scratch grew softer, weaker, like whatever was making it was running out of strength.
He exhaled slowly. "…It's probably just… wind. Or a raccoon. A really mutated raccoon."
He turned the handle and pulled the door open a crack.
Lying in the hallway was a creature — a cat. Or at least, something resembling one. It was the size of a mature housecat but leaner, with sleek dark fur streaked faintly with glowing veins. Two tails lay limply behind it, and one of its legs was bleeding, the wound half-seared as if by energy.
The cat lifted its head weakly, golden eyes locking onto his. For a split second, Richmond forgot to breathe.
"…You've got to be kidding me," he whispered. "A two-tailed cat?"
It gave a soft, rasping "mrrrow," more like a wheeze than a threat.
Any instinct to slam the door vanished. Instead, he crouched down cautiously. "…You're not about to jump at my face, right?"
No response. The cat simply lowered its head again, too weak to move.
---
Richmond wasn't a vet. He wasn't even a cat owner. But he wasn't about to let something bleed out at his doorstep either.
He dragged his backpack closer and pulled out his first aid kit. "Alright, buddy… or miss… whatever you are. Let's not die on me, okay?"
He approached slowly, letting it sniff his hand first. Surprisingly, it didn't hiss or lash out — it just stared at him with a strangely intelligent calm.
He tore open some gauze, cleaned the wound with bottled water, and wrapped the leg as best as he could. The cat flinched at first but didn't resist. Its tails twitched faintly, like it understood he wasn't a threat.
"There," he said softly. "Temporary fix. Don't expect miracles."
He offered it a bit of dried meat from his rations. The cat hesitated, then weakly licked at it. Richmond watched, a small smile creeping onto his face.
"…Guess we're both strays now."
---
After tending to the cat, Richmond finally stepped outside the storage room to survey the stadium properly in daylight. The halls were quiet, the growls from last night gone. The air, however, carried a faint metallic tang.
He wandered toward one of the lower tunnels — the direction where the vibrations had been strongest before. The cat followed him at a distance, limping slightly but refusing to be left behind. Every few steps, it paused to sniff the air, ears flicking.
"You're seriously following me?" he asked. The cat blinked slowly, like it was giving him permission to keep talking.
"…Right. Not weird at all."
The tunnel air grew cooler as he moved deeper. Light leaked in through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating something ahead.
A metallic growth.
It jutted out of the cracked concrete floor like a plant made of ore — shimmering with faint veins of energy, silver-blue and pulsing. The surrounding floor was scratched and stained, like multiple creatures had fought here recently. Broken claws. Tufts of fur. Blood.
Richmond knelt carefully, eyes wide. "…What in the world…"
He touched the air near it — a subtle hum vibrated against his palm. "This is… not natural. Not man-made either. It's like… the earth grew metal."
The cat limped closer, sniffed the air, and let out a soft, low sound — almost reverent. Richmond noticed faint marks on the alloy itself. Bite marks. Fresh ones.
"Wait… this is what you were fighting over?" he said slowly, looking at the cat. "Did you… eat this stuff?"
The cat tilted its head, then flicked both tails once. Richmond couldn't tell if it was answering or just being a cat.
Either way, curiosity lit up his eyes. He grabbed a piece of pipe and carefully chipped a small shard of the metallic growth off. The hum intensified slightly, then returned to normal.
"This… could be valuable. For research. Or… something," he muttered. "Man, if this is some kind of fantasy ore, I'm officially living in an isekai."
He slipped the shard into a wrapped cloth and tucked it into his bag. The cat continued to sniff around, its body trembling faintly as if sensing something else nearby.
That's when he felt it too.
A soft wave — almost imperceptible — brushed past him. Like standing at the edge of a massive engine's output. He looked up instinctively.
Through the tunnel opening, far off in the distance, the air shimmered faintly. A translucent dome shape flickered over a section of the city, barely visible against the tricolored sky.
"…What is that…" Richmond whispered.
The cat stared at it too, ears flat, tails twitching nervously.
The shimmer vanished after a few seconds, like it had never been there.
---
Richmond exhaled slowly, heart pounding. "Okay. Dome in the distance. Mysterious metal plants. Mutant cat with two tails. I officially take back the 'maybe it was a dream' theory."
He turned back toward the cat, who was now sitting neatly by the tunnel entrance, watching him with clear eyes.
"…You're coming with me, aren't you?"
The cat flicked its tails and gave a quiet, decisive "mrrp."
Richmond sighed. "Great. I've adopted a magical cat. Next thing you know, it's gonna start talking."
He adjusted his bag and started walking back toward the inner stadium. The cat limped after him, slower but determined.
Somewhere above, the strange dome flickered again — this time, just long enough for him to know it wasn't his imagination.
And for the first time since everything began, Richmond didn't feel entirely alone.