Hell.

Wenzhi was starting to accept that this was hell.

Of all the worlds he could have ended up in... why this one?

He could’ve landed in some peaceful slice-of-life. Or one of those Alpha–Omega settings, though, yeah, absolutely not as an Omega. Those guys had it worse than civilians here.

Alpha, maybe.

He would be comfortable, privileged and alive.

But no.

He had to end up here. In this broken, collapsing, monster-infested disaster of a world.

And now, he was inside a goddamn rift!

Rifts weren’t stable. They weren’t predictable.

They were tears in reality, openings into inter dimensions filled with creatures that thrived on destruction, infestation, and flesh.

Only high-ranking Espers entered rifts.

Guides?

Guides stayed out. Because entering a rift as a guide without preparation wasn’t bravery, it was suicide.

They needed oxygen support. Specialized injections. Protective gear.

And Wenzhi?

He had none of it planned.

Which meant he was as good as dead.

The world snapped into place around him.

He staggered as they landed surrounded by endless rubble.

The sky, if it could even be called that, was dim, choked with swirling dust and sand that scraped against his skin like fine blades. Visibility was poor, the air thick and dry, each breath harsher than the last.

Wenzhi immediately covered his nose and mouth, eyes narrowing. "...You’ve got to be kidding me!!"

He turned sharply to the guide.

"You could’ve teleported us anywhere," he snapped, his voice tight and high with disbelief, "and you chose inside the rift?"

The guide blinked at him and froze like the realization had just hit.

"...I’m sorry," he said weakly. "We were about to die. I don’t... function well under pressure."

Then, like he suddenly remembered something important. "But, on the bright side, we took our injections before deployment, so we’re protected from rift corruption. We should be safe."

Wenzhi stared at him.

"...Let me guess," he said slowly, his eyes twitching faintly, "you’re part of the Rift Suppression Corps. CEA division."

"...Yes?" the guide answered, confused.

"Of course you are." Wenzhi dragged a hand down his face.

"You people are always prepared for missions," he muttered, frustration rising, "but I wasn’t planning to enter a rift today."

His voice sharpened. "I came here to confirm something and now—"

He cut himself off with a harsh exhale.

The guide shifted awkwardly.

"I said I’m sorry," he added, glancing around uneasily. "It was either this or getting torn apart. Though... this might actually be worse."

Wenzhi didn’t respond. He lifted his wrist instead, tapping his watch.

A display flickered to life.

Oxygen levels. 40%.

His expression went completely blank. "...Nope."

He lowered his hand and grabbed the gun tighter. "I’m leaving."

He turned and started walking away.

The guide panicked instantly and ran after him. "Wait! I’m sorry, it wasn’t intentional!"

Wenzhi gritted his teeth.

"I’m really sorry," the guide said again, his voice tight, eyes scanning the dust-choked horizon. "I was trying to get us to my Esper, but I don’t know what went wrong. The wind, it’s interfering with the connection."

Wenzhi’s grip tightened around the gun, fingers flexing slowly against the trigger.

For a brief, very brief, moment, he turned.

One pull. That was all it would take. And there will be silence.

No more talking. No more useless apologies.

His finger settled against the trigger.

...Then he exhaled.

The gun lowered.

"...Do you have an extra injection?"

"No."

Useless.

Wenzhi clicked his tongue under his breath, irritation crawling up his spine as the guide stepped closer.

"By the way," the guide continued, like they weren’t standing in a death zone, "why were you asking about Shao Xinyuan?"

Wenzhi didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at him.

Why the hell was he trying to make conversation?

Because he wasn’t the one with 40% oxygen.

"...It’s just surprising," the guide went on, glancing at him curiously. "I’ve only seen him in reports. They said he finally has a guide now, so he’s allowed outside the facility—"

He paused. Then froze like something finally clicked.

"...Wait." His eyes widened. "...Are you his guide?"

Wenzhi’s grip tightened again.

Breathe. Don’t shoot. Breathe... don’t shoot.

...Wait! If I were to shoot him, would the government remove me from my role as Xinyuan’s guide for killing a guide?

After all, armed personnel are much more replaceable than guides.

That might...

His arm lifted.

The gun came up again.

Decision made...

A snarl tore through the air.

Wenzhi’s eyes snapped up. His aim shifted instantly.

Bang!

The shot cracked through the dust-heavy air.

The crawler staggered back, its body jerking violently as the blast tore into it. But it didn’t fall. It didn’t even slow properly.

The thing twitched. Its limbs convulsing unnaturally, joints bending the wrong way as its head jerked to the side. Then back.

Then forward again. Its mouth stretched open, too wide, jagged teeth grinding against each other as a wet, broken sound forced its way out.

The guide gasped, stumbling back. "It...It didn’t go down..."

"No shit." Wenzhi’s expression darkened.

The crawler’s body shuddered again and then it moved fast like the shot had only pissed it off.

"Run!" Wenzhi bolted, boots slamming against broken concrete as he pushed forward at full speed. The guide stumbled for half a second then chased after him, panic finally overriding everything else.

Behind them, more came.

Not one. Not five. Dozens.

They poured out from the dust and rubble like a swarm, limbs scraping, bodies twisting, their speed horrifying as they rushed forward.

Wenzhi and the guide cut through collapsed structures, leaping over debris and stopped dead as another pack rushed in from the front, closing in.

Wenzhi’s breath caught in his throat.

From the left. The right. Behind.

They were surrounded.

"No!"

For a split second, he genuinely thought, This is it.

Suddenly, black miasma burst across the battlefield, a tendril shooting forward. It cut through the swarm and wrapped around Wenzhi’s torso.

"Wha—!"

His feet left the ground instantly.

The world dropped away beneath him as he was yanked upward, breath knocked from his lungs as the force dragged him.

His pupils shrank as he looked down.

The guide stood frozen below, staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes like a child left behind.

But before anything could happen, something fell hard.

A figure. No. An impact like a bomb detonating at ground level.

The crawlers were blown apart, bodies crushed and thrown back as the shockwave rippled through them.

And when the dust cleared, a man stood there clad in black. One arm wrapped around the guide, pulling him close, shielding him instinctively as the aftermath settled around them.

Wenzhi tilted his head, suspended in the air. "...Oh?"

And then, the miasma tightened around him, dragging him backward, toward him.

Shao Xinyuan.

He hovered midair, surrounded by thick, seething darkness, miasma coiling around him in layers, shifting, alive.

There were hundreds of tentacle-like strands lashed outward, tearing through crawlers brutally grabbing, crushing, ripping them apart before reaching for more.

A smooth massacre.

Wenzhi was lowered slowly, set down right in front of him.

For a brief second, he just stared.

Then, those eyes opened. One deep red. One dark brown.

They locked onto him instantly.

"You’re not supposed to be in here, Freckles," Xinyuan said, his voice low and rough.

Wenzhi huffed faintly. "You’re supposed to be—"

His breath cut off suddenly, like something had crushed his lungs from the inside.

His vision blurred instantly, black creeping in from the edges as his body swayed.

Oxygen levels. 5%

His fingers twitched weakly at his side as he tried to inhale.

Nothing.

The world tilted.

The last thing he saw was Xinyuan’s surprised face. Right before everything went dark.