The engine hummed beneath me, low and steady.
Tokyo rushed past in streaks of light and shadow as my bike cut through empty streets, tires whispering against wet asphalt. Neon signs reflected off puddles like fractured mirrors. The city smelled of rain, oil, and electricity.
The helmet muted the world, turning everything distant—manageable.
Just get home, I told myself.
The wind pressed against my chest as I leaned into a turn, the bike responding smoothly, obediently. Every vibration traveled up through the frame, into my palms, into my bones.
Tonight felt finished.
Like the city itself was exhaling—
letting go.
I rolled into my apartment complex and killed the engine.
Silence rushed in.
The ticking of cooling metal. The distant hiss of rain. Somewhere far above, thunder murmured like an afterthought.
I parked, pulled off my helmet, and ran a hand through damp hair.
My body finally noticed how tired it was.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
I stepped in and pressed 11.
The doors closed.
The lift ascended smoothly, cables humming faintly behind the walls. My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored panel—eyes a little dull, shoulders heavy.
Just sleep, I thought.
Tomorrow matters.
Ding.
The doors opened to a quiet corridor.
White lights. Clean floors. The familiar smell of detergent and recycled air.
Home.
I unlocked my door, stepped inside, kicked my shoes off without looking, and walked straight to my room.
I didn't bother turning on the lights.
I dropped onto the bed face-first.
Sleep took me instantly—
not gently,
but like something had been waiting for it.
Ding—!
The sound ripped me out of darkness.
My eyes snapped open.
For a second, I didn't know where I was.
Then thunder rolled.
Rain streaked down the window, lightning flashing pale across the glass. The city outside flickered white, then dark again. Its reflection cut briefly across my face.
The doorbell rang again.
Once.
I groaned, dragging myself upright, head throbbing.
"…Coming…"
My foot nudged something on the floor.
Plastic scraped softly.
A small toy rolled into view.
One of RENYA's dinosaur toys.
I'd picked that one out because it was green—his favorite color.
I barely registered it.
I shuffled toward the door, palm brushing the wall for balance. My fingers wrapped around the knob—
SHKK—
Steel screamed past my face.
Pain exploded across my cheek.
Warm. Sharp.
Blood sprayed as I twisted on instinct, the blade burying itself deep into the wall behind me with a violent thud.
The door exploded inward.
Wood shattered.
The impact shoved me backward, my heels skidding across the narrow entryway.
Masked figures surged inside.
Black armor. Featureless masks.
Shadows clung to them like living things, swallowing the light.
Killers.
Assassins.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
For a moment—
my body didn't move.
Sound flattened.
The world narrowed to the masked figure in front of me, the blade still humming in the wall behind.
Move, my mind screamed.
Nothing happened.
A hand reached for me.
Too close.
Too real.
"What the hell is this?!" Panic slammed into me like a physical blow.
I ran.
I slammed my bedroom door shut and locked it just as something heavy smashed against the other side.
The room was small—barely three steps from door to bed.
The frame groaned violently.
My breath came in ragged gasps.
This isn't real.
This can't be real.
My palm slapped against the wall as I stumbled back—
Click.
A section of the wall slid open.
I froze.
My mind tried to understand.
Failed.
Weapons.
Not just weapons—
an arsenal.
Pistols arranged with military precision beside blades that looked centuries old.
Ammunition.
Grenades.
And things that shouldn't exist.
Devices I couldn't name. Angular. Organic. Some pulsed faintly with inner light.
My throat tightened.
Why here?
Why in my room?
My eyes locked on the center.
The Sword.
Long. Lean. Forged from something that wasn't quite metal. Neon blue-violet veins pulsed along the blade like trapped lightning. It hummed—a low resonance that vibrated in my teeth.
The air tasted like ozone.
Static crawled across my skin.
This wasn't a stash.
This wasn't mine. It never had been.
This wasn't protection. It was placement.
Someone had prepared my life without telling me.
It was a war I didn't know existed.
Someone had decided this before I ever had a choice.
And the sword felt like it had been waiting for me.
"…What are you supposed to be?" I whispered.
In my room… all this time?
The door cracked.
I grabbed a pistol and a handful of magazines.
Then froze.
"…I haven't done this before," I breathed.
My hands didn't move the way I expected them to.
The magazine slipped from my shaking fingers, clattering far too loud against the floor.
My ears rang.
Or maybe that was my pulse.
"…Damn it."
I picked it up, fingers shaking hard now. I knew how guns worked—videos, drills, movies—
Knowing wasn't doing. And doing wasn't coming.
My thumb fumbled. The weight felt wrong. Heavier than it should've been. The click I expected didn't come.
Footsteps slammed against the door.
"Just—just go in," I hissed, forcing the magazine up. My palm stung as it finally locked with a sharp, ugly snap.
No smooth motion.
No confidence.
Only panic—and seconds bleeding away.
Then my hand closed around the sword's hilt.
Nothing.
No surge. No strength.
Like it was waiting for permission—
not panic.
Not fear.
The veins brightened faintly—
then dimmed when I let go.
"I don't even know how to use this—!"
"No—damn it—just escape!"
My eyes caught a small button near the panel.
I slammed it.
The ceiling opened.
"Thank God."
I jumped, pulling myself into the shaft as the panel snapped shut beneath me.
The shaft was barely wide enough for my shoulders, stretching straight up into darkness.
Metal screamed.
They broke the door.
Bullets tore through the ceiling.
Concrete dust rained down, burning my eyes, filling my mouth with grit.
A blade stabbed upward, missing my leg by inches.
I crawled, shaking, heart hammering.
At the end, a hatch burst open.
Wind slammed into me as I crawled out, rain blinding, the city yawning dozens of floors below.
Rain hit my face.
I stepped onto a narrow steel beam running along the skyscraper's side.
It slanted downward toward the street, slick with rain.
The city yawned below.
"H-holy shit…"
One step wrong—and I was gone.
A knife hissed through the rain.
It clipped my shoulder.
I stumbled.
My foot slipped.
And then—
I fell.
"You bastards—!"
The world didn't tilt.
It fractured.
City lights stretched into neon strands, tearing apart like a broken dream.
This felt wrong—
not like drowning…
but like the world letting go of me.
White.
A blank stage.
No sound. No rain.
Just me.
Slipping into water had always felt like breathing for the first time.
This wasn't that.
Nothing special about me.
Everything fades.
Tears tore free.
"Why is this happening to me?"
If this was my fate—
it had terrible timing.
And it didn't care whether I was ready.
The wind ripped the scream out of my throat.
✦ End of Chapter 4 — Last Normal Night ✦