Chapter 1: The Coward
Arthur jerked awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. Cold sweat plastered his ragged shirt to his skin as he sat up on the flattened cardboard box that served as his bed. The alleyway stank of rot and urine, but after weeks on the streets, he barely noticed anymore.
The dream had come again. Darkness swallowing everything, draining life from the world like a hungry parasite. Then, something even darker emerging, consuming the first darkness. Finally, light breaking through, pushing back until light and dark existed side by side in perfect equilibrium. Balance restored.
'What the hell kind of dream is this?' Arthur thought to himself, running grimy fingers through his matted black hair.
He was about to lie back down when pain erupted in his chest — not a normal ache but something primal and invasive. It felt like hands were inside him, squeezing his heart and lungs. Arthur curled into a ball, gasping for air that wouldn't come, clawing at his chest.
'Not again,' he wheezed when the agony finally subsided minutes later. 'It's getting worse.'
These episodes had begun as occasional twinges a few weeks ago but now struck daily with increasing intensity. Arthur wasn't stupid; he knew something was killing him from the inside. Probably the darkness he'd inhaled during the attack.
Rising unsteadily to his feet, Arthur shuffled out of the alleyway onto the city sidewalk. Even at this late hour, the city pulsed with life—headlights streaking past, neon signs flickering, people laughing and arguing as they stumbled between nightclubs and late-night eateries.
None of them spared a glance for the filthy fifteen-year-old boy in torn clothes. Arthur had quickly learned that in this world, invisibility was a survival skill. Being seen meant being hassled by authorities or worse.
Lost in thought, Arthur collided with someone—a broad-shouldered man reeking of expensive cologne and alcohol.
"Hey, watch it, rat!" The man snarled, his expensive suit catching the streetlights.
Arthur lifted his head slightly, meeting the man's gaze with a flicker of defiance that he immediately regretted.