No Light
Chapter 1
No Light
"Well, I'll be damned," Ethan mumbled ever so softly, his gaze shifting between the vast, blue skies of June and the concrete jungle burning hot and heavy beneath it that was his hometown. As for why such a common sight caused him to be in disbelief… the answer was rather simple, really: just ten seconds ago, he was far off into the future, twenty-six years to be precise, where the blue sky was ashen and red, and the concrete jungles were literal concrete jungles, and where the songs of the buzzing city could no longer be heard, taken over by the growls and howls and roars of beasts and monsters and creatures beyond conscience.
"I told you, did I not?" a soft voice dragged his attention away from the newfound reality. By his side, entirely invisible to the slew of folk passing by him as though he were a ghost, a tiny, fairy-like creature floated, its wings swiftly fluttering. Ethan met it just a month ago, and it made him promises that he was certain it could not keep and was merely trying to stave him off from killing it. He played along, largely out of boredom as, by that point in the future, he trusted random fairies more than other people, but to his complete shock, it fulfilled that promise. The promise of bringing him back home.
"Shit, you really did," he said, sucking in a cold breath.
"You need not seem so shocked!" the little creature seemed wholly offended at Ethan's lack of faith in it.
"Been a minute since I faked things," he said. "Any chance you'll tell me how you did it?"
"No." the creature replied quickly.
"Alright. Not like it matters. Then again, you might have simply drugged me and I'm imagining all this while you're harvesting my beautiful body."
"Haah," the creature rolled its eyes–something it did often during their brief journey together–but didn't dwell on the comment. "You will come to realise soon enough that all this is real. How long it takes you is a matter of your intelligence."
"It's gonna take decades, then. I'm not a very clever man, you see."
"You have survived longer than most–you are still quite clever."
"You're making me blush over here. But it's really real," Ethan's voice cracked for a moment, his eyes growing teary. He thought he'd never see any of it again–not the paved streets with no cracks or massive, rotting corpses of monsters, not the trains of people rushing about everyday life like busy bees, as though nothing else in the world mattered. Not the fuss and huff of life, as life was all but drained from the world in the distant future.
"You may thank me now! Ah, but your thanks is not enough! As you promised, you must allow me to settle inside of you and live there from now on!"
"Yeah, sure, nest your way away," he said. "Just don't suck me dry yet."
"I won't suck you dry! I want you to live and grow and become stronger! If you do, so will I!"
"And then you can come out of hiding 'cause whoever you pissed off getting me here won't pose us a threat?"
"..."
"Wow, I was just shooting blindly there, to think I scored a headshot. Anyway, this was obviously before the descent. There aren't any traces of mana or magic, no observing Nyhili, no tamed or bedevilled. The question is, how far before the descent. Hey, excuse me. What date is it today?"
"..." the woman he asked looked at him strangely and sped past him.
"Yo, my man, can you tell me what date it is today?"
"..." The man kept his head down and went onward.
"Hey, my good woman, could you tell me what date it is?"
"..." the woman–
"SOMEBODY TELL ME THE DATE, GODDAMMIT!"
"..." somebodies went on their merry ways.
"... don't say a word," Ethan grunted through his teeth, looking around and spotting a nearby electronics store. The fairy creature laughed freely as it followed, flying quickly over to him and sitting on his shoulder as he plastered his head toward the window, eventually managing to squeeze out some information from a TV playing the news in the corner. "Fifth of May, 2024. Shit, you couldn't have brought me back a bit further?"
"You are quite a demanding sort, are you not?"
"I mean, no. But the Descent is literally two days from now."
"Two days is enough to prepare."
"Two years, maybe. Two days is nothing. You have absolutely no idea how out of shape I was at this point in time. My first few years following the Descent were quite a tale of rat-like behaviour and vomiting repeatedly after long runs."
"Not my problem."
"Right. Of course not." Ethan slid back into the shade, taking a moment to gather himself. He was wearing a set-standard summer outfit–a cheap, white T-shirt and blue shorts. Gone was the body he spent decades building, replaced by an odd mixture of a slightly protruding belly in combination with slim limbs. Though he couldn't recall precisely why he was standing in front of his apartment building in the middle of the scalding day, it didn't particularly matter. As such, he retreated into one of the nearby apartment complexes–a towering behemoth housing just over two hundred people–and walked up all eight flights of stairs as the elevator was 'closed down for maintenance'--and has been for the six months prior.
The fairy creature followed along in silence, curiously observing the world around it. On their way up, they passed an elderly man who grunted something and nodded toward Ethan, with the latter nodding back. Naturally, he didn't recognise the man–he was shocked he remembered where the entrance to his apartment even was considering how long it had been.
Reaching the eighth floor, he spotted the doors reading 'Flynn' and headed over, taking out a key from his pocket, unlocking the doors, and entering a short hallway. The sound of the TV singing caused him to pause for a moment as a flood of memories rushed back into his mind. He remembered something that he had lost on the day of the Descent, something that he spent a lifetime forgetting.
First doors to his right were flung open as a tiny girl came racing out–she couldn't have been taller than four feet, wearing a cute, frilly summer dress, her golden locks sprawling to half her back, glistening. She smiled as she saw him but only for a moment, her green eyes immediately glaring at him angrily.
"You didn't get ice cream!" her voice was the final straw, and tears began pouring out of him. "E-eh? Ethan? What's wrong? Don't cry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell! I–I don't need ice cream!" the young girl ran over and began tapping him lightly, worried. Soon enough, she started crying too. "I'm so sorry! Please, please don't be mad! I'm sorry!" recollecting himself, he quickly wiped the tears, bent over, and pulled her up into his arms, hugging her tightly.
"I ain't angry kiddo," he spoke softly and warmly. "I'll never be angry with you, okay? Don't cry. It's alright. I just came back for a moment because I missed you too much. I'll go get us that ice cream now."
"Can… can I come, too?" she asked after a moment, wiping her eyes.
"Of course," he replied, hoisting her up on his shoulders. He stood rather tall, six-three, and Layla always loved riding him. According to her, she felt like a proper world ruler because of how tall she would get. He didn't forget her–of course he didn't. But he had to put her away from his mind. And he'd gotten hollowly good at it by the time it was the moment of return. "You need anything?"
"Just my teddy bear," she replied as Ethan put her down. Layla ran off like the wind and came back just as quickly, an ordinary, one-eyed teddy bear in hand. "All set!"
"Get on, then," Ethan bent over and faced his back to her, and she climbed up swiftly. He felt a bit of pain and his body screeched for a moment as he stood up, but he didn't let it show.
"Who is she?" the fairy creature asked curiously, but Ethan ignored it, leaving the apartment and locking it behind him as they started their lengthy descent.
"Is it hot out?" Layla asked, appearing quite excited. From the rush of memories he experienced, Ethan recalled that the girl didn't leave the apartment much, especially the six months before the Descent, and following their father's death.
"Maybe to others, but your brother is the coolest kid around the block, so I wasn't hot at all."
"He he, that's so lame. Calling yourself the coolest."
"Alright, maybe I'm not the coolest," Ethan said. "But Layla's by far the cutest, and that will keep us safe from all the hotness." The young girl's cheeks flushed red at the praise as she pursed her lips, slamming him gently.
Ethan laughed freely as he continued descending the stairs. Layla was nine, as far as his memories could tell him. The two weren't biologically related–Ethan's father and Layla's mother got married when Layla was three and Ethan was twenty-six, but for all intents and purposes, it never mattered. She was his little sister, and the day he lost her was by far the most painful day of his life.
The two soon found themselves beneath the sun, with Layla grumbling that it was too hot and Ethan scurrying swiftly into the shade, keeping to it until they found a nearby pastry that sold ice creams. The shopkeeper was an elderly man who immediately recognised Ethan as he frequented this place during the summer–specifically for Layla.
"Ah, so, she's the one that's been inhalin' all my ice creams, huh?" the shopkeeper asked with a smile, exposing a row of yellowed-out dentures.
"She loves 'em, can't live without them," Ethan replied as Layla shyly hid behind his legs, holding his hand tightly. "Don't be shy, Layla. Say hi."
"... hello," she greeted politely, nodding, though didn't step out still.
"Well, ain't you the cutest? I got a granddaughter just a bit older than you, you know? She also loves ice cream. Strawberry's her favourite. What about you?"
"... chocolate," Layla seemed to loosen up a bit as the topic switched to something she liked.
"Hoh, you too? See, I also really love chocolate! It's the best, isn't it?" The elderly man scooped two spoonfuls of chocolate and stuffed them into the cone, handing them over to Ethan who fiddled into his pockets, taking out two one-dollar bills. "It's my treat, my treat. Seeing such a cute kid is enough payment."
"Wow, thanks. Layla, say thanks to the nice man for the ice cream."
"Thank you very much," Layla said, though her gaze had already wandered off to the cone Ethan handed her.
"Thanks again," Ethan smiled at the shopkeep who smiled back, waving them off as the duo began to walk around the nearby shopping district while Layla enjoyed her ice cream in one hand, carrying the teddy bear in the other.
Bit by bit, Ethan's memories began to return. He turned thirty-two just three months ago and had been working a steady gig as a psychiatrist in a nearby hospital ever since he got out of med school. The job was courtesy of Layla's mother, actually–just before she died, she apparently pulled some strings from the past and secured Ethan's position. He didn't even get to thank her properly before it was too late, however.
Since it was a Sunday, he had a day off–and as with every other day off in his life, he spent it with Layla. During the weekdays, while he worked, she attended the nearby private elementary school. That was his life–simple, unremarkable, but he still loved it. Though he was effectively a single parent, he didn't mind it in the slightest. And he would have likely continued on with his life normally, perhaps eventually becoming a Chair of Psychiatry if the world hadn't changed overnight. No, not overnight–within a few minutes.
Two days from now, some eight hundred miles off the Portuguese coastline, an event will unfold that will have beyond catastrophic implications–both immediate and the ones to follow. An alien structure, perfectly spherical in shape, would descend from the heavens and rip through the Earth's atmosphere, slamming into the Atlantic before lifting up to the surface and levitating there from thereon, causing a series of deadly tsunamis to sweep European, African, and American coastlines, burying hundreds of cities in a flood that resulted in the deaths of hundreds of millions.
That was, however, only the beginning–in addition to that, the alien structure transformed life on Earth into an eerily familiar replica of a game. Every individual would get status screens full of information, just like in the games, and soon enough, people would figure out that the magic was no longer a wind of the mystical, but a very real property that nigh everyone could engage in. The joy was short-lived as, within just a few first weeks, the first of the Kaynul would appear–mutated beasts with a penchant for hunting down humans. And thus the countdown until humanity's last whimper would begin, with fanfare of death, rot, and horror beyond human comprehension as its symphony.
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