This novel is the work of Rhys Thomas. If you are reading this and it has not been published by Rhys Thomas, then this work has been stolen. Please report this to Amazon and me at email: [email protected]

(Wednesday. Date: 17-04-2463)

I squinted and stared blearily at the computer screen before me. On it was an endless spreadsheet consisting of names, phone numbers, contacts, and gifted-license numbers that went on for 134 pages.

Huffing an annoyed breath and ignoring the gossipy chatter all around me, I scrolled down the page. “Micah Dragon Slayer. Seriously, who the fuck changes their name to that… An Awakened and D-rank Gifted? Fuck! She’s higher than me,” I muttered. I scowled until my face hurt.

With a weary sigh, I leaned back in the chair in my office cubicle. I reached up, pulled loose my dark blue cotton tie, and ran a hand messily through my dark brown hair. Several phones in the office, including mine, suddenly chimed, notifying everyone that a gateway had opened. People were being summoned.

That my own phone had chimed meant I was being called to do the grunt work. Which basically meant I was to play baggage-bitch for a group going through.

I ignored my phone, knowing what it already was. Instead, I grabbed my headset and put it back on. Shoved my glasses back on too, as an afterthought. I got back to work and immediately groaned at the name I was calling.

The phone on the other end rang, and for a second I hoped upon hope that I could scream down the line at the immature fucker, one Harry Scrote. Tell him how privileged he really was.

Then the moment passed. “Yo, who tha fuck’s callin?” Hairy Scrote replied. He had a greasy, nasally accent, and I briefly wondered if he answered the phone like that when his mother was calling.

With a mental sigh, I pressed on. “Good evening, sir. My name is Rhys, and I’m ringing on behalf of Hunter Insurances. May I have a moment of your time?” There was a pause as I presumed the Gifted on the other end digested my words.

That was why I hated this place. They forced us to offer up our names as a way to draw attention away from those actually making their lives a living shit pit. The debtor blamed us because we passed the message along. But never the boss.

No one really wanted anything to do with having insurance of any kind unless they were already a part of a guild. In this man’s case, it was the Hunter Guild. Those who weren’t with the Hunter Guild tended to take out insurance with us, buy rights for Gateways, equipment, or get a loan for their own ventures.

For those who couldn’t repay the debt, a C- or D-ranked Gifted was usually dispatched to resolve the matter.

This individual I was ringing was actually current with his payments, though he had two more repayments to make of 500 credits each. And that was after borrowing 1500 credits from our sister company, Gate-Hunters Loans.

His profile claimed that he was actually quite skilled, despite being a low D-rank, and his gift was necromancy. “Uhhh...” Hairy Scrote replied intelligently.

“I assure you, sir, that this is nothing urgent. Just a simple update on the repayment plan you’ve set up,” I continued, answering the unspoken question.

“Yeah...Uh, right,” he answered finally. I could imagine his head bobbing back and forth as he said so. “So, what’s the update? I’m a busy man.”

I smiled slightly.

“We’ve had to extend the period of which you were to repay, is all. We are simply splitting your next two payments into four. You’ll have four 250-credit repayments to make instead of your previously agreed upon 500. Unfortunately, though, sir, this will drag your repayment plan into and beyond the thirty-day term you set up with our sister company. This will mean that come the end of your payments, the new term will already here. We would like to offer you a new contract at the end of the month.” I finished. Again there was silence. I honestly felt bad for the poor guy. He’s likely to be back for another loan come the end of his payment, like he had previously.

He was strong, much stronger than me. Unfortunately, he had fallen into a spiral of endless loans and only made enough to scrape by each month. I knew what it was like to be in debt, and the amount of rent I paid contributed heavily to that. Both for my own place and my parents’ apartment. However, I was in debt to the bank, instead of a corporate guild like the Hunters.

This man would remain a target until he either joined the guild or moved to another city. Given everyone’s distaste of necromancers, the first wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He could probably make enough credits to properly move, but well, that was on him.

“Um... Sir?” I asked when there was no response. I could hear a muffled throat clearing on the other end of the line. Picking up my pen I tapped it against my desk repeatedly.

“-Yes.”

“Would you like a new contract at the end of this month?”

“Yeeaah...” he replied slowly in a long exhale.

“Good. I’ll set the date for your inclusion next month. It’ll be just before your last payment is due. Will that be alright with you?” I smiled politely, like I was spraying a shower of daisies and sunshine out of my asshole.

“Yes,” he answered, this time more firmly. I began to wonder if knew any other words.

I had to forcibly remind myself that this man, if he ever met me outside, could crush my head with barely any effort. Then he’d probably make me his undead minion. I had heard some sick stories about what a few necromancers in the past did to the people they killed and raised afterwards.

“Good. Now can you please verify your license number for me?” I felt like a worker-drone.

“One moment,” came his response.

“Success, he does know something other than, ‘Yes’ or ‘Yeah’,” I muttered.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

I wondered idly if I would have the chance to eat something later on before Gateway carrying. Not that I really had much other than a few cheap tubes of bacon paste and iced fruit.

“Hello, you still there?” Hairy Scrote’s voice broke into my thoughts.

“Yes, Hairy I am. Do you have that number for me?”

“It’s D-A-G-H, 2-3-1-7-7-9,” he finished, and I compared it to the copy we had of his license on the spreadsheet. It actually read more like: D-rank. Awakened. Gifted. Hunter-temp. Two hundred thirty-one thousand, seven hundred seventy-nine.

This was his allocated number. At the time of his being bestowed a gift by the celestial Nezha’set of the tricked mind, he was that number in count. Gifts were for those deemed worthy, but how it was used was up to the individual.

Necromancers usually walked a dark and lonesome path for obvious reasons, but I didn’t see them as being inherently evil. It was no wonder they went mad and became people-killers when they were shunned by everyone for a gift they didn’t choose .

I finished up the call, killed the line, and finally snatched my phone from the drawer under my desk. I had two messages when I turned on the screen.

The first was from my sister. Hey, bro. Mom’s funeral is this Saturday. It's just us now. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind moving back in? Just for a bit. I could really use the company. Love, Kayla.

I read the short message with a sad smile. Since I had Awakened two years ago, I had been working endlessly to pay the medical bills for Mom and make enough to help Kayla out at the apartment. She was 16 years old and would graduate soon. She had a love of nature photography. Her room was filled to the brim with prints of her work.

She was all I had left now.

“That may not be a bad idea,” I mused to myself. The rent on my parents’ home was significantly higher, but I would no longer be paying two rent bills. After I fired off a quick affirmative reply to Kayla, I looked at the next text.

It simply read: Alert! Green gateway activity. Milton road. 8pm tonight.

With an audible sigh, I closed up my phone and leaned back. The office clock hung up on the far wall above the throng of worker-drones. It was a digital thing, and read 5:02 pm. Twenty-eight minutes and I’m out of here, I thought.

“Rhysy,” a sultry voice purred from behind me. At least I classified it as a purr, but it was mostly just her usual tone.

Blinking, I tilted my head back even further and found the lines manager looking down at me. I hated being called Rhysy as much as I hated being called ‘bag-bitch’ by the guildies.

“Yes, Tilda?”

Matilda had wavy shoulder-length, dark purple hair and deep purple eyes. Her full pink lips tilted up into a slight smile at my attention to her figure. Today she was stuffed into a white blouse and an open suit jacket, along with a pencil-thin black skirt that barely contained her black-stockinged legs and thick thighs.

As she moved her weight to her other high-heeled foot, I caught the barest glimpse of the strap leading from her stocking up to her garter belt. Which I had given to her several years ago..

We had been in a relationship, but broke up once she became Gifted. We reconnected after my dad’s death and my own awakening. She and I became even closer since I had started working here during daylight hours. “Were you summoned?” she asked me, and I smirked.

“Ah- since you’re asking, I guess it’s your group I’m carrying for?”

Her smile slipped. I knew she didn’t like how I was treated by the other Gifted, even other Awakened kept me at arms’ length. I was the lowest of the low.

Not everyone treated me like shit; in most cases, people just wanted to get their work done and go about their day.

“Yeah... You know you don’t have to…” she trailed off and I knew what she meant. It was mandatory for all Awakened and Gifted to attempt at least twenty-five gateways.

I kept signing back up. My count was somewhere around forty-three gateways attempted. ‘Attempted’ only meant that I had accompanied others as a support or carrier. My reasoning was simple: I needed money to protect the people I loved.

“You know why I do it, Tild. It’s all I really have, other than working here. Besides, a single mana crystal is literally worth half of what I’m paid here.” I said, and then thought to myself: It’s the only thing that feels real anymore. I looked back up at her. “Mom’s funeral is Saturday. Anniversary of the day the Red gate opened.” The very same day Dad was killed by the Gate-natives and I Awakened. “Want to come along?” I asked.

Her brows pinched together, and she bit her lip. “Ouch,” she murmured. “No, I can’t, sorry. I would... I... I really do care for you guys, but it’s just… I met someone.” She gave me a small half-smile and a shrug.

I nodded absently and swallowed as my gut churned.

I always regretted not attempting to reach out to Matilda after we broke up. She had been with a few of the men around the office, and others outside the office too. But this weirdly sounded serious. Swallowing again, I nodded like a fool. “Well… That’s… Good?” Clever, I told myself. “Is he good for you?” I added quickly.

She nodded just as quickly in response. “I think? I’m not sure, we’ll see how it goes.”

I sadly smiled at her.

“Want me to drop you at home?” Matilda asked, and I nodded again, feeling awkward.

“Sure, sounds good. At least I won’t have to take a train home then.”

Twenty-five minutes later, I stepped outside H.I. and looked across the sprawling metropolis of New Eden. So named because it was the first city where a Gateway opened.

Looking out, I saw the partial flicker of the Mana-Dome above. It covered the majority of the city. A spaceship breached the barrier and slowed its descent to dock with one of the many ports of the higher, richer, and inner districts of New Eden. And I wondered at it all.

Mana-Domes had popped up everywhere a first gate had opened. After the vanishing of our planet from the Sol-System and the reawakening in the Janus system one hundred years ago, Terra had been assaulted by numerous gateways that lead to other realms and dungeons.

Every time a gate opened, a percentage of those in the vicinity of the opening Awaken. They would become stronger, quicker, smarter, heal faster, and were far more deadly. If a gateway wasn’t breached and closed within seven days, it would reverse and spill its inhabitants out into our world. As well as changing the environment to the one on the other side of the gate.

Most gateways had to feed and leech off the Mana-Dome to stay active. The Red gateways didn’t follow this general rule, and could open outside a mana field..

After a solid year of fighting feebly against the gates way back when, Celestials sent by the All-Mother came down to bestow gifts straight out of a fantasy game to the worthy Awakened.

“By the Mother’s saggy tits, it’s warm out,” I muttered, and fanned myself after taking off my suit jacket.

Matilda walked past and waved me on, “You know you really shouldn’t blaspheme.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. What good has the Mother ever done for me?

Once home, I stripped bare and thumbed subconsciously at the burn scars that marred the left side of my ribcage. My place was boxy and plain, and almost had the vacant, abandoned look most ‘haunted houses’ did. I walked into my small bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror, or at least what I could see of myself standing on my tiptoes. I was thin and short, though I had some muscle and a good(ish) physique, I was what people would describe as scrawny. I thumbed my scars again and exited after having a quick wash.

Grabbing a gray t-shirt, my skinny cotton tracksuit bottoms, and my sneakers, I hopped into my living room and slouched onto the torn couch in front of my holographic television. “Alexi, switch the vid on for me, please,” I said and waited... and waited... “Fuck! I forgot I sold her,” I realized, grumbling at my decision for what was probably the fourteenth time since I sold my digital-companion two months ago. At least I’d gotten enough to pay the rent.

I finally turned the TV on and flicked to the news. The headlines scrolling along the bottom read: Two years since Red gate appeared this Saturday. Memorial service to be held at Eden’s parks.

It was still classed as a phenomenon. The gate had simply spun open, and decimated the entire neighbourhood. Monsters and Natives had come through and killed as many as they could. Then they simply left before a response could be made. The whole thing had apparently taken fifteen minutes.

My father’s death had been the last, and I was still certain they had gone out of their way to kill him.

Before that, the last time a Red gate opened was thirty years ago. It stayed open for seven long years. For all intents and purposes, Reds were a wholly different breed. I flicked through the channels once again. There were countless talk shows about the nature of the Celestials and the Mother. The talk show hosts still talked about responsibility and who was to blame for the Vanishing. Churches preached the greatness of their divine Mira’darana, the Celestial of a painted soul.

Another channel showed a Warrior Guilds advert, attempting to recruit more members for their ‘big’ push into the Purple Gates. They followed Furos’kyrn, the Celestial of the strengthened will.

I couldn’t give a shit about organized religion or their gods, but I partially believed in the Mother, at least enough to curse her name colorfully every chance I got.

For a time, I simply sat and stared at nothing. Eventually my watch beeped like the irritant it was. Forty minutes and a mag-train ride later, I stepped out onto Milton Road and paused at the sight of the giant green swirling vortex. It seemed like a tear in the fabric of reality as it distorted everything around it. Like a crack in the center of a mirror, it bent and fractured everything close by.

The Green classification was mainly quest-related. They usually had a challenge or a puzzle that needed solving while waves of beasts fought against your team. The max number of combatants for a Green gate was usually ten, and at least one D-rank or higher was always present.

The D-rank in this team was Matilda, a Knight class. The golden hilt of her great sword was shaped like a pair of spread wings welcoming the sun. The weapon hummed with a magical aura. She stood in an immaculate silvery-grey suit of full body armor; the face plate of her helmet raised. I could see the stern frown she held there for a moment.

That frown immediately softened for her counterpart, some finely dressed, blonde, princely-looking fucker with a bow. He was everything I was not: handsome with a good body and a bandoleer of blue mana crystals strapped around his waist like a flashy display. “He’s either D- or C-rank,” I muttered. Only those ranks of Gifted could combat a blue gateway and obtain the blue mana crystals.

“Hello everyone, your baggage carrier has arrived. Don’t mind the average Joe here, I’m simply slipping amongst you to carry your belongings,” I grumbled as I moved past, unnoticed by all.

“Hey, it’s the baggage bitch! You won’t find any treats in those bags of yours,” someone called at me. I half-expected Matilda to shout back a harsh response like she usually did, but she didn’t say anything. Too interested in the sparkling blue princess, no doubt.

I stared at the gate, ignoring those who had nothing better to do than hurl insults at me. y mind fogged and hazed as the world bent around it. Before I even noticed, twenty minutes had passed while I stood in a trance. I blinked several times as people began entering the gate. I, of course, was to carry up the rear, one of the three most dangerous positions in a group assault.

I knew I was only at the rear so that my death would warn the others in front of me. It kept me at a distance from the rest, for which I was grateful.

“Howard,” I heard Matilda voice crack like a whip at the front of the group after we walked for a while. “Get up here.” Her tone left no room for complaint. I knew Howard. He was a wizard whose speciality lay in inscriptions and making things go boom. He could cast three chants to Mira’s silken mound, then he was dry of Mana.

“What does it say?” I heard Melody, the group’s cleric, say sweetly. She was dressed in a gaudy white and bright red robe accented with rhinestones. Her red hair was tied back in a tight braid, revealing the light dashing of freckles across her nose, cheeks, and neck.

“By three. By three. By three,” Howard muttered loudly. “By three they went. By three they returned.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Prince said. He sneered at the wizard. “There will be three pathways ahead. Three must enter each.”

“Or it could mean that only three people can continue from here,” I muttered.

“Yeah, that’s a fair point,” someone close by replied. A few others nodded after the man repeated what I said. Tilda looked my way, shock written plainly across her face, as if she had forgotten until now that I was here. Her purple eyes lit up upon seeing me, though she looked guilty. Prince, on the other hand, looked like he was on the verge of forming a new asshole on his stupid face, he was pressing his lips together so hard.

His blue eyes flashed with anger as he sneered, “What does some poor Awakened know of hunting? I suggest you stick to your craft, bitch, and leave the Gifted to theirs.”

I shrugged and turned away from him, knowing that would just annoy him even further. Some of the others in the group shouted their opinions of me as well, and some shook their heads. Matilda never spoke a word. She simply looked away. Is this even your group anymore, Tilda? I thought.

As it happened, there were three branching passages. I saw His Princeliness smirk my direction, to which I cocked an eyebrow. “Alright, three for each! Tilda, take your two and head for the left passage. I’ll take mine and head straight. The others can go right,” Prince announced..

Matilda nodded at his commands. “Of course, Drake,” she replied. Her face was alight with her smile, and her eyes were hazy and glassy. How strange, I thought. I saw Melody and Howard furrowing their brows at how easily this ‘Drake’ took command.

They left me standing there, alone with a single torch and a pack full of pickaxes and shovels. I moved off to one side of the cavern by feeling along the wall until my fingers passed from rougher surfaces to smoother, colder ones. Dumping the bag at my feet, I retrieved a pick and got started on the wall. I retrieved a hand drill and foot long pike, with a hoop at it ends from my pack. Its purpose was simple, I needed somewhere to holster my torch after all.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard a sound like a distant cry coming from the passages. They distorted, echoed, and bounced around, so it was hard to discern which it came from. I swung the pickaxe at the deposit of dull Mana crystals on the wall, gradually chipping away chunks and stuffing them into the carry bag. These were practically worthless as they so numerous throughout New Eden, and dull crystals were only bought by the lower rankers. “At least I’ll make something from this, if I can’t have any proper mana crystals,” I said with a huff of air. I rubbed at the sweat coating my brow. “Though something tells me I probably won’t be making my fair share at all tonight.”

Sighing, I dropped the pickaxe and gathered up my chips to store them away. My requirement for being the baggage bitch in a gateway dive was three dull mana crystals. Sometimes I was paid up front and told to stay out of the way. Other times I wasn’t paid at all, and the group would only threaten me if I reported them to their license boards.

My musings were cut short as a menacingly low growl sent a shiver up my spine. Looking over my shoulders, I saw a massive white wolf. Its claws and teeth glinted as if they were metallic. The slit at the center of its head snapped open when it spotted me. A bright red bead in a void of blackness peered at me, then moved around in a searching roll.

Frozen, still in shock, my eyes darted about for anything useful I could use in my defense. Being Awakened meant I wasn’t completely helpless, even if I was weak. The average Awakened was four times stronger than the average human. Me, I was only twice more, which in and of itself was still something.

The wolf stepped fully into the central chamber of the cavern from the middle passage. “Why do I get the feeling they let this one through?” I growled deep inside my throat.

As if according to some unspoken signal, the wolf bounded forward, closing the gap so blindingly fast I barely saw it. I dropped my chips onto the ground and dove to the right, hurling myself bodily at my pack of equipment. I slammed into it at a roll. Not even a second later, the wolf shoulder-checked the wall, trying to halt its momentum. It came down on my dropped pickaxe, crushing the wooden haft.

Rolling to my side, I shot my hand into the pack as I moved. I pulled out the broken length of a longsword. It was a green-class item and cost me 300cs. I had bought the stupid thing last month, only for it to break the very same day against some weird blue-furred baboons with hands at the end of their tails and antennae where their eyes should’ve been. I was absolutely certain I’d been ripped off.

Now it was the only tool I had, other than a few pickaxes. Deciding it was better to utilise all I could, I grabbed one of those as well, to use in my off hand. The one I had used previously was now crushed as the wolf stomped towards me. Thick lines of drool dripped from its snarling jaws as it bared its teeth at me.

It was maybe six feet in height, and towered over me. With a growl, I bared my own teeth back. I may be incredibly weak by Awakened and Gifted standards, but that didn’t mean I was a coward. Lunging forward and closing the distance, I stabbed out with my long sword. The blunt broken end smacked into wolf’s side and skidded along its ribs as my momentum drove me forward. I slid with it, and brought the pickaxe in my other hand around in a mighty—by my standards—swing. With a simple toss of its head, I was thrown onto my back, the blade lost from my hand.

Then it was upon me, its face snapping toward my own. I leaned away with just enough distance that it didn’t engulf my head. The wolf bit deep into my neck and shoulder instead. With a scream of fright and pain, I flailed out, kicking beneath the bulk of its body. Each movement I made only caused the three-eyed wolf to sink its metallic teeth in even further. I was sure it would close its jaws entirely shut around my body.

The pickaxe, you damn fool! I screamed mentally at myself, cursing my stupidity for having forgotten about it. Somehow it had landed only inches from my hand. With a grunt of pain, I brought the pick around and feebly hit its side. That was enough to dig the pick a few inches deep between two of its ribs.

The wolf yelped and let go of me. I clamped a hand around my bleeding neck wound and scooted my ass backward. The monster snarled and looked straight through me, as if I were a nuisance that wouldn’t just die.

“Nice doggy,” I mumbled painfully. I shifted back as it prowled towards me. A menacing aura practically bled off the beast. The light from my torch on the wall flickered and wavered, as if the very air itself wanted to snuff out my light.

It was my only source of light in here, and, as if on cue, the light finally blinked out. My hand brushed against the pommel of my broken longsword. The light came back on.

“What the-” Then the wolf was before me, its jaws wide open, its tongue wiggling for a meal and its teeth stained in my blood.

I grabbed the sword in a reverse grip and brought it over my head. The light died again as I flicked forth with my arm, aiming at its face. Sweeping the blade in, I felt it catch as I was smashed into the ground.

Five long, sharp claws scored my side as I fell. Pain exploded through my shoulder as I was smacked roughly about, but I knew I would die if I didn’t act immediately.

After a moment, I got my feet under me, and still managed to maintain my hold onto the broken sword. I bodily checked the wolf with my wounded shoulder, then twisted the sword. We fell to the ground, with me straddling the creature’s belly. It slashed wildly at me with its claws, scoring me deeply in several places. It howled in pain as I twisted my sword again and shoved it deeper. Its paws sliced me up while I fumbled for its throat. Before I knew it, the wolf’s jaws were around my arm and it began to shake its head violently from side to side.

I screamed and stabbed the wolf as it tore my arm to shreds with those metallic teeth. Then my sweat-slick hand slid off the grip of the broken sword and I cursed as the wolf managed roll on top of me. It barked and gnashed, and spat out my arm as it went for my face again. I did the only thing I could do in that moment: I had to willingly shove my other arm into its mouth.

Biting back my cry of pain, I kicked out with my right leg and hit the blade still lodged in its side. The wolf yelped and slammed me into the ground, driving the air out of me. I coughed and managed to push and slide backwards until I was crouching. Then I rolled under my trapped arm, shrieking as the joint dislocated when I was wrenched back. By then I grabbed the sword, yanked it out of the wolf’s side and swept it around. I felt my arm pop, crack, and grind. With a hateful cry, I planted the broken end of my sword square in the fucker’s third rolling eye.

Suddenly it was over. The beast’s legs gave out as it flopped lifelessly atop of me, my arm still wedged in its jaws. Its heavy bulk pressed down on me. “No, no, no,” I hissed. I tried in vain to push against it, but I couldn’t. I was exhausted.

Within that moment, I thought back to my childhood. I liked watching old Earth shows. One show was called Tom and Jerry, and a character in it, a dog named Spike. I don’t know why, but the simple thought of that show, and that dog, and my shitty situation, made me laugh.

Much to my own stupidly bad luck, I heard a deep, belly-shaking growl and the clink of claws across the ground.

“Oh shit,” I wheezed. Then came a yelp, splattering sounds, and two distinct thumps.

“Rhys?” a voice called out, as the heavy sound of boots pounded into the central cavern.

“Why isn’t there a light in here?” another voice shouted in an annoyance.

“Look over there!” another shouted.

Blinking as I gasped for a breath of fresh air, I tried to reply. Nothing came out, only a gurgled sort of hiss escaped. Suddenly, I saw a light. It was yellow and orange, the glow reflecting against the ceiling of the cavern. The air rushed into me when the entire bulk of the wolf was lifted off and thrown to one side.

With that, I evacuated my lungs in a coughing fit. Rolling to one side, I curled up in agony. Awakened could heal wounds much faster than the average Joe. I, on the other hand, would likely not be walking away from this. Clenching my eyes shut to hold back the flood of pitiful tears, I turned away from my rescuers.

Hating—not the first time—how fucking weak I was.

It had to be Matilda, Melody, and Howard.

“Oh, Goddess!”

“He’s lost too much blood-”

“Just leave him-”

If I die now, I’ll miss the funeral. Does it matter? Kayla is strong and determined. If anyone can survive in a world as shitty as ours, it will be her. My thoughts were halted as warmth and lightness spread through my body. It broke through my moody and death-accepting haze. I heard a soft chant, beseeching Mira’darana to heal me. The warmth faltered as Melody finished her chant, as I knew it would.

Spells such as healing could only be used by the Gifted on the Gifted, it was just how it worked. It was how the classes were separated. Humanity was the low standard, then Awakened, and then the Gifted.

Awakenings were accidental, a result of gate openings. Gifted, though, were selected by the celestial gods. Hah, fuck the gods. Fuck. The. Mother. Fuck my shitty life...Blackness swept over me, finishing my statement for me. I floated in the abyss for a while. Now and then I caught glimpses of concerned and apologetic faces as I groaned inarticulately and cursed my rough treatment. The reverberating echo of the cavern disappeared completely, to be replaced by sounds I didn’t recognise at first.

The cavernous ceiling was there one minute, then stars filled a black sky the next. Blue and red lights reflected off the armor carrying me, highlighting the dents and claw marks furrowed into the steel suit. “Wha- cha doe,” I asked, my voice seemed oddly muffled. Then I passed out completely.

I awoke sometime later as the bright light of day crept through the curtain of a hospital room. “Well, at least this is a familiar sight,” I mumbled and blinked hard.

Sitting up with a soft, aching groan, I appraised myself of the wounds I was expecting to see. “Guess they managed to get me out of there. Wonder if they closed the gateway?” I blinked at the clock on the far wall, but couldn’t make out the time without my glasses. Soft snores broke through my concentration. Looking down, I saw Kayla slumped over my hospital bed, her light brown hair tied back. Drool smeared her cheek wetly as she moved. I poked at her head, smiling slightly. Kayla’s eyes snapped open, wide awake and aware; she had been a light sleeper ever since the Red gate had destroyed our family.

“Rhys?” she asked, her eyes misting.

“Hey Kay, I’m sorry I woke y-” I began, but I was interrupted when she crushed me in a hug.

“I- I thought I lost you, and I didn’t know what to do,” she said as she sniffled into my thinly-gowned chest.

This is an Awakened ward, I guessed. The IV solutions they used to heal Awakened injuries were essentially healing potions.. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll be alright, Kayla.”.

My sister was taller than me by a few inches even though she was younger than me by nine years. The doctors stated that my growth had halted once I’d Awakened. I would never, without being Gifted, gain more muscle or grow taller. Forever the skinny and short baggage runt, I thought bitterly. Kayla’s eyes were hazel like mine, but normal, Since the Red gate opening, I had red specks like glassy fragments glinting within my irises.

All those that Awakened had a part of their body change permanently to match the color of the gate that awoke them. Their pubic hair color could change, or their eyes, fingernails, or genitals. Matilda was a rare example: her eyes and hair both changed after a Purple Gateway sprang into existence in her neighbours’ backyard.

“Matilda called me and told me. She was worried I wouldn’t find out if she didn’t. You know how these places can be,” Kayla told me, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I replied. I did know. If you weren’t conscious and responsive, they could do what they liked with you until they were told otherwise.

“The doctors hooked you up, and you’ve been here since last night. They couldn’t completely repair your leg in one sitting though, so you’ll be on crutches until they can.”

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, “So, do you know if they closed the gateway or not?”

She shook her head. “No, they didn’t. From what the investigators could gather, the monster that attacked you came from a central passage or something. Some guy called Drake Sembrane came by to apologize.” She turned her face up to peer at me. “He came and left with Matilda. He didn’t seem particularly happy that I was here.”

I nodded and patted her back. “What time is it? Where are my glasses?” I asked. Kayla got up and turned her wrist around. A holo-screen appeared a few inches above her wrist phone.

“It’s... 10:34, Thursday,” she answered with a smirk at my look of disbelief. “What? It’s not my fault you’re still working with the old tech bro. You really need to upgrade.”

“Uh-huh. And how much is that upgrade costing you?” I frowned. She didn’t respond, but smiled sweetly at me instead. Taking the hint, I dropped it. “Well, let’s get out of here. I hate these places. You can help me get back to my place and pack my things.”

She looked at me curiously. “Why?”

“Why? Well I’m moving back home after all,” I said. It felt right. For the first time in a long time, I’d made a choice I was comfortable with making. The rest of the day sped by quickly after that. I checked out with a promise to return for more treatment. We packed up the things at my boxy apartment. I didn’t own much, so it was easy.

The crutches were a pain in the ass, and the fare I spent on a hover-taxi was ridiculous. However, the instant I walked through my parents’ front door I felt my aches and annoyance from the day leak out of me. I was left feeling warm and content Kayla waited on me hand and foot, to the point that I had to ask her to stop.

We spent the whole evening side by side, watching TV and old movies. “Hey Kayla,” I said as she snored against my arm, “Go to bed Kay, you’ve got school in the morning.”

“Don’t wanna,” she sleepily yawned.

“If you don’t, your poor, injured brother may just be foolish enough to carry you up to your room,” I warned.

“Ugh, fine.” She got up, kissed my forehead like Mom used to do. She slunk away. “Night, Rhys.”

“Night, Kay,” I replied. I blinked rapidly. “By the Mother’s shaven gate, do I miss my family,” I whispered with a sigh into the darkness, and wept quietly to my silent audience.

This novel is the work of Rhys Thomas. If you are reading this and it has not been published by Rhys Thomas, then this work has been stolen. Please report this to Amazon and me at email: [email protected]