Chapter 12 — Dislocation
1191 Words
They did not stop after the fight.
The corridor stretched ahead of them, quiet except for the faint echo of their footsteps. A thin blue mist still lingered in the air, but it no longer pressed against them like before. It had become something passive—almost natural—like a part of the environment rather than a force acting upon it.
96 walked ahead. His steps were steady, his breathing even, as though nothing had happened.
Leong followed closely behind. His own breathing had yet to settle, but his gaze remained fixed on 96’s back.
Something about it felt wrong.
Too controlled. Too normal.
“Are you really fine?” Leong asked quietly.
There was no answer.
96 continued forward without hesitation. One step. Two.
On the third, his body faltered.
Then he collapsed.
Without warning.
“96!”
Leong rushed forward and caught him, lowering him to the ground. There was still breath—barely—but it was shallow and unstable.
The dagger slipped from 96’s hand and struck the floor with a faint metallic sound.
Leong didn’t hesitate. There was no time to think.
He lifted 96 onto his back and kept moving.
The corridor began to change as they advanced. The walls were no longer intact; cracks spread across their surfaces, and the structure itself felt unstable, as if whatever order once held it together was gradually breaking down.
Ahead, a door appeared.
It wasn’t a reinforced gate or a prison barrier—just a simple door, unmarked and unguarded. No lock. No number.
It stood there in silence, as though it had been waiting.
Leong slowed for only a moment before pushing it open.
There was no sound.
The motion felt unnaturally light, as if the space beyond did not belong to the same world.
The moment he stepped through, everything shifted.
The light changed. The air grew colder. For a brief instant, even his footsteps seemed to vanish—before returning, hollow and distant.
Leong took another step—
And froze.
The corridor was gone.
So was the prison.
In its place stood an entire fractured landscape.
Broken buildings rose and overlapped in impossible ways. Collapsed floors hung suspended in midair, while leaning structures intersected with one another at unnatural angles. It resembled a city—but one that had been dismantled and crudely reassembled.
Layer upon layer stretched into the distance. Some sections floated. Others ended abruptly in empty space.
And yet nothing collapsed.
Something unseen held it all together.
The blue mist was thinner here, but it spread farther, drifting across the entire city like a permanent haze.
Leong remained at the threshold for a moment, his breathing slowing as he took it in.
“…What is this place?”
No answer came.
But he already understood.
This was still Earth—
And yet it was not the world he knew.
It felt like a city that had been separated from reality itself.
A place that should not exist.
He glanced down at 96. Still unconscious. Still barely breathing.
Leong stepped forward, fully entering the city.
The sound of his foot hitting the ground echoed outward, stretching unnaturally through the empty space.
Behind him, the door closed.
Silently.
There was no way back.
Leong didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to.
This wasn’t another level.
This was another world.
⸻
A cold wind moved through the ruins.
Leong quickly searched for shelter and slipped into a half-collapsed structure. He lowered 96 into the shadows and remained still, listening.
Time passed.
Then came footsteps.
Measured. Deliberate.
Not wandering—searching.
“This area’s clear.”
“Perimeter stable.”
“What about the target?”
“Not located yet.”
A brief pause.
“Priority?”
“The highest.”
“Capture Lin Liang.”
The air seemed to tighten.
“Confirmed target—one of the remaining three teachers capable of creating God.”
“Do not engage other factions.”
“This zone is unstable.”
“Focus on the objective.”
“And Annie?”
A slight shift in tone followed.
“She already has one.”
“But she’s still searching for another.”
The footsteps faded into the distance.
Silence returned.
Leong exhaled slowly, only then realizing his hands were damp with sweat.
Lin Liang.
The name settled heavily in his mind.
⸻
Elsewhere, on a fractured platform high above the ruins—
Wind moved through the blue mist.
Annie stood still, calm and composed, as if nothing in this world could disturb her.
“She behaved well today,” she said softly.
Her tone was gentle.
No one responded.
“She came to class that day,” Annie continued. “You were all fighting over her.”
She turned her head slightly.
“You were the one who brought her back.”
A pause.
“Zini.”
A woman stepped forward. Her breathing was uneven, but her gaze remained steady.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I was.”
“I appreciate that,” Annie replied. “If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t be here.”
Silence lingered for a moment—
Then Zini spoke.
“…Annie.”
Her voice tightened, but she did not retreat.
“She’s not your daughter.”
The air froze.
“You shouldn’t trust her.”
“She can’t create God.”
Her expression flickered, unstable yet resolute.
“That’s not something humans can do. It’s a gift. Something chosen—”
The force struck before she could finish.
Zini was slammed into the ground.
The surface cracked beneath her.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Annie stood over her, looking down.
Her expression remained unchanged.
“Zini,” she said softly.
“What did you just say?”
The pressure increased.
Zini clenched her teeth.
“She’s not—”
The force tightened.
Bones strained under the weight.
“You’re slandering her.”
Annie’s voice was calm.
Not questioning.
Certain.
She leaned closer.
“Do you think I’m something to be fooled?”
A brief pause.
“Do you still see me as your sister?”
Zini’s eyes trembled.
Not from pain—
But from doubt.
The pressure eased slightly, but did not disappear.
Annie straightened.
“Say that again,” she said softly,
“And I’ll turn you into nourishment.”
There was no emotion in her voice.
Only certainty.
She stepped back.
The pressure vanished.
Then she turned, facing the broken city below.
Her tone softened once more.
“She is my daughter.”
“Every part of her.”
“Inside and out.”
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
“She said she can create God.”
A pause.
“And I believe her.”
No one spoke.
No one argued.
Because here
Her belief defined reality.
In the shadows, Leong slowly raised his head.
Something in his expression had changed.
He didn’t know who those people were.
But he understood one thing.
This world was not his.
And he
Was already being hunted.
The wind moved again.
The blue mist drifted through the ruins.
The city remained silent.
But the hunt Had already begun.
- Writer
