Morning came with a cold wind.
Kaze woke before the others, eyes opening to a pale sky washed in gray. The campfire had burned down to glowing embers. For a moment he lay still, listening.
The world felt… quiet.
Not peaceful.
Empty.
He sat up slowly, frowning. Ever since yesterday's fight with the cloaked cultist, his senses had been sharper. Too sharp. The silence pressing against his ears wasn't normal wilderness silence. It was the kind that made the air feel hollow.
Like something important was missing.
"You feel it too, don't you?"
Kaze turned. Lira was awake, sitting cross-legged and tightening the straps on her boots. Her usual playful expression was gone, replaced by a thin crease between her brows.
"Yeah," Kaze admitted. "It's weird."
One of their companions stirred nearby.
"What's weird?"
Lira gestured vaguely at the horizon.
"Everything. The air's different."
Kaze stood and looked ahead. Beyond the rolling hills, a massive city rose from the land like a jagged scar. Its walls were dark stone, towering and severe. No banners flew from its towers. No shining temples crowned its skyline.
It looked… abandoned.
But as the morning mist thinned, movement became visible. People streamed in and out of the gates. Smoke curled from chimneys. Life thrived within those walls.
And yet the emptiness remained.
"That's our destination?" Lira muttered.
Kaze grinned. "Looks fun."
She stared at him. "You think everything looks fun."
"And I'm usually right."
The road toward the city grew busier as they approached. Travelers walked with their heads down, conversations hushed. Even the merchants' wagons rolled more quietly, wheels creaking in subdued rhythm.
When Kaze crossed an invisible threshold a few miles from the gates, his breath caught.
The pressure hit him instantly.
Or rather—the lack of it.
His soul core pulsed in confusion. The familiar background presence he'd grown used to since awakening his power—the subtle connection to the world's spiritual flow—had vanished.
It was like stepping into a room with no air.
He staggered slightly.
"Kaze?" Lira grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?"
"The energy…" he whispered. "It's gone."
She went pale. "So it's true."
"What is?"
Lira hesitated. "I've heard stories. A city that exists outside the blessings of gods and demons. A place cut off from higher powers."
Kaze blinked. "That's possible?"
"No one knows how," she said quietly. "Some say the city rejected the gods. Others say the gods abandoned it."
As they resumed walking, Kaze tested his power. His will still responded, but it felt muted, like shouting through thick glass. The gauntlets on his arms were heavy and silent.
For the first time since awakening his abilities, he felt… restrained.
Excitement sparked in his chest.
"This place is amazing," he said.
Lira groaned. "You're impossible."
The gates loomed overhead, carved with symbols worn smooth by time. Guards in dark armor watched incoming travelers with sharp, tired eyes.
One stepped forward as Kaze's group approached.
"State your business."
"Adventurers," Lira answered smoothly, flashing their guild insignia. "Looking for work."
The guard studied them for a long moment, gaze lingering on Kaze's gauntlets.
"You'll find plenty," he said finally. "This city eats the unprepared. Try not to be among them."
With that cryptic warning, he waved them through.
Inside, the city was alive—but wrong.
Buildings leaned at odd angles, architecture layered from different eras. The streets were crowded, yet conversations stayed low and urgent. There were no shrines. No statues of gods. No visible signs of worship anywhere.
Kaze's skin prickled.
"It's like everyone's holding their breath," he murmured.
Lira nodded. "Welcome to Null City."
They made their way toward the adventurers' guild, a squat stone structure reinforced with iron beams. The moment they stepped inside, the oppressive feeling intensified.
Kaze nearly winced.
The guild hall buzzed with activity, but the spiritual emptiness was suffocating.
Adventurers sat at long tables, weapons close at hand. Every face looked hardened.
A scarred woman behind the counter glanced up.
"Registration or request?"
"Work," Lira replied. "Something that pays well."
The woman snorted. "Everything here pays well. Because everything here is deadly."
She slid a parchment across the counter.
"Monsters have been appearing in the lower districts. Creatures that shouldn't exist in a godless zone. We need them cleared."
Kaze leaned over the parchment. The sketch depicted twisted shapes—humanoid silhouettes warped into unnatural forms.
"Spiritual monsters?" he asked.
"That's the problem," the woman said grimly. "They shouldn't be able to manifest here. And yet they are."
Kaze felt a thrill run through him.
"We'll take it."
Lira sighed. "Of course we will."
The lower districts were darker, the streets narrower. Shadows clung to every corner. The air smelled stale, like something long sealed away.
They found the first monster in an abandoned alley.
It unfolded from the darkness like a nightmare given shape—limbs too long, face a blank smear. Its presence scraped against Kaze's senses, wrong in a way he couldn't describe.
It screamed without sound and lunged.
Kaze met it head-on.
His fist connected with its torso—and passed halfway through before resistance slammed into his arm. The gauntlets flared faintly, struggling against the city's suppression.
The monster shrieked, recoiling.
"It's phasing!" one of their companions shouted.
Kaze adjusted instinctively. He focused inward, drawing on pure will instead of ambient energy. His next strike was heavier, anchored in his soul.
The gauntlets pulsed.
This time his punch landed solidly. The creature shattered like glass, dissolving into drifting fragments of darkness.
Silence fell.
Kaze stared at his hands.
Even here—even in a place that rejected higher powers—his will alone was enough.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Okay," he said. "I like this city."
Lira shook her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "You would."
As they moved deeper into the district, more monsters emerged. Each fight pushed Kaze to rely less on borrowed energy and more on his own core strength.
And with every victory, something inside him grew sharper.
Cleaner.
By the time they returned to the guild hall at dusk, exhausted but triumphant, Kaze felt… refined.
Like steel hammered into shape.
The scarred woman accepted their report with a curt nod.
"You handled yourselves well," she said. "Most newcomers don't last a day."
Kaze leaned against the counter. "What are those things?"
Her expression darkened.
"That," she said quietly, "is the question that's going to decide whether this city survives the year."
That night, as the city settled into uneasy sleep, Kaze lay awake staring at the ceiling of their rented room.
The emptiness pressed in from all sides.
But beneath it, he sensed something else.
A whisper.
Faint. Distant. Rising from deep below the city.
His gauntlets stirred in response.
Kaze sat up slowly, heart racing.
Somewhere beneath Null City, something ancient was waking.
And it was calling to him.
He grinned into the darkness.
"Guess tomorrow's gonna be busy."