Jian dragged Nansich over the cracked pavement, weaving through rubble and scorched debris. The ground quaked beneath them every few seconds, like something ancient and massive stirred beneath the city’s skin. Smoke coiled through the sky, ash settling on their hair and skin.
Broken glass crunched beneath their feet. A car, overturned and on fire, crackled just a few steps away. Jian didn’t even flinch.
"Do you have your phone with you?" he asked sharply over his shoulder, breath short.
Nansich, still half-dragged and stumbling, blinked. "Yeah, duh. Why?"
He fished the device out of his pocket and held it up, grinning despite the chaos. "It’s the newest model T-phone. Isn’t it awesome? I had to beg my grandpa so much to buy—"
Jian snatched it out of his hand before he could finish.
"Hey!" Nansich stumbled, scowling. "At least say thank—"
But Jian wasn’t listening. He’d already dialed, fingers steady despite everything. The number was etched into his memory—he didn’t need to look.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times...
Then: click.
A burst of noise exploded into his ear—people screaming, alarms wailing, metal clashing, distant blasts thudding like heartbeats of a dying world.
"Bian," Jian breathed.
Through the noise, he heard it: Bian’s voice, half-mumbled, half-panicked.
"...it’s too late... they’re already here... fuck... I was supposed to replace you before that..."
Jian’s grip on the phone tightened. "Bian!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise. "Answer me!"
A pause. Then the mumbling stopped.
"It’s all your fault!!!" Bian shrieked, voice cracking with something deeper than anger—madness? Regret? Jian couldn’t tell anymore.
"Shut up and listen!" Jian roared. Nansich flinched beside him.
On the other end, silence fell. Just the faint sound of people running, the static of distant destruction.
Jian’s voice softened slightly, strained but urgent. "Where are you right now? I’ll come get you."
"I-in..." Bian stammered. "In the city..."
Jian’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding together. His heart thudded against his ribs.
"Then just get out of the city," he said. "Wait for me. I’ll come get Grandpa."
Another pause.
"...It won’t be easy now," Bian said, voice low, almost... guilty?
Jian’s patience snapped.
"What the hell do you mean?" he shouted, his voice raw. "Do you even see what’s going on? Our fucking world is being destroyed—what the hell do you even want from me?!"
"What do you want?!" Jian screamed into the phone, voice raw and cracking at the edges.
Nansich, a few paces away, stopped moving. His gaze locked onto Jian’s back—eyes wide, his breath caught. Something in Jian’s voice wasn’t just anger. It was pain.
But Jian didn’t even glance at him. His entire being was focused on the voice coming through the battered phone.
"Bian..." he muttered, voice shaking. "I’ll give you anything you want."
He squeezed the device tighter, fingers digging into its sleek surface. Tiny microfractures spiderwebbed across the screen. He didn’t notice.
"You want my blood?" he whispered hoarsely. "Fine. I’ll give it to you."
Memories surged up like bile—of being strapped down, helpless, cold metal pressed to his skin. Of tubes drawing out his blood, again and again. Of the sharp sting as long needles sank into his bones. Of that prison cell. The sterile scent. The soft, constant beep of machines.
"You want my bone marrow?" Jian rasped. "Take it. I don’t care. Just give me Grandpa back."
A heavy silence followed.
Nansich slowly stepped closer, watching his face—watching the torment unfolding there with unnerving focus.
Then Bian’s voice returned, laced with venom. "Then I want that stone pendant. The one you always carried in your youth. I want it."
Jian froze.
That stone.
It wasn’t just a keepsake. It was everything—a remnant of a promise, of a past long lost. A reminder of what mattered. A secret only he knew.
"I hid it," Jian said slowly. "Its at our school. I can’t exactly get to it now."
"I want it now!! where did you hide it huh!" Bian shrieked
Jian gritted his teeth. "its at the store room in my archery practice room. I don’t have the time to go back and get it for you. I swear if you give me grandpa I will get it after this shit is over. please.."
"no!" Bian’s voice exploding through the phone like a thunderclap. "Stone for Grandpa!"
Jian clenched his jaw, bile rising up his throat.
"Bian," he growled, low and furious. "The world is ending. If you don’t get out of the city now, you’re screwed just like the rest of us. What do you think is going to happen when those aliens descend? Do you really think your little psychotic plans matter anymore?!"
There was a beat of silence.
Then Bian cursed loudly—frantic, guttural. Jian heard shuffling, the crash of something breaking, and Bian muttering darkly under his breath.
"I have my ways," Bian finally snapped. "Just get me the stone."
Click.
The call ended.
Jian stared at the phone for a moment longer, until the fractured screen dimmed and went black.
He was shaking. Not from fear—but from frustration. Rage. Desperation.
The bastard had made him drag himself all the way into the city through hell and ash—only to dangle his grandfather’s life for another price.
Now he had to go back. All for that damned stone.
There was no time. Bian was unstable. Jian couldn’t trust his grandfather’s life to someone like him.
He spun around—and locked eyes with Nansich.
The boy hadn’t moved. His gaze lingered on Jian’s face with an odd intensity, as though trying to see through him. As if trying to uncover something beneath the skin, in the cracks of Jian’s fury.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jian snapped, his voice rough.
He tossed the phone toward him, not caring if it shattered.
"Lead the way," he snarled. "We’re catching that bastard."
He didn’t wait to see if Nansich followed.
His eyes were already fixed ahead—burning with the weight of fury, fear, and a promise he refused to break.
He would get Grandpa back.
Even if he had to burn this whole city down to do it.
Nansich gazed at the cracked phone and then at the boy he had known all his life.
"what the fuck is wrong with you. Come." Jian shouted sharply glaring back.
Nansich peered at the young man’s peerless face that was contoured in fury. But that was not what made him double take again and again. It was the green gem like thing that was encrusted in between his eyebrows. ’maybe its.. just debris embedded in his skin.. shit he really should get it checked in the hospital..’