Chapter 1: Merek Solen
Ack!
Blood burst from his mouth, warm and metallic, staining his lips and chin before dripping onto the already soaked front of his white sweatshirt. Dust clung to the torn hem and frayed sleeves like the residue of despair. The crimson only made the ruin more complete.
’What’s happening?’
His pupils quivered as he stared at the figure slumped against the door, his figure. Lifeless. Pale. A brass revolver dangled from limp fingers on the right hand, its weight dragging toward the blood-slick floor.
"H-How...?"
A pool of blood had already formed beneath the body, spreading like a shadow no light could chase away. Pain slammed into his skull, sudden and brutal, like being struck with a wooden beam. He staggered mentally, unprepared for the agony or the truth.
He hadn’t even reacted to the shot.
"Argh..." Merek groaned, his voice raw, threaded with anguish. His vision flickered like a dying light bulb now sharp, now blurred but still clear enough to register the chaos of the room.
It was unfamiliar.
Not his bedroom. Not his apartment. Not anywhere he’d ever been.
The room looked like it had been ravaged by grief itself. Chairs overturned, drawers flung open, books scattered like fallen feathers. A mirror lay shattered across the floor, each shard reflecting his face. This was no robbery, this was an emotional storm, an outpouring of rage.