Die Until I Cross The Rift

Date: Jul 20, 2025

Stepping into the slums punched the breath from my lungs.

Gritty dust

–thick with pulverized brick

and things best left unnamed

–billowed with every step, coating my tongue.

That smell. Gods, that smell.

Charred earth wrestling with the sweet-rot stench of forgotten waste,

so thick it crawled down my throat.

Walls stood like broken teeth, blackened streaks weeping ash.

Streets choked on rubble, skeletal shacks leaning drunkenly, one stiff breeze from collapse.

The "homes" were worse.

Roofs? Gone.

Walls? Swiss cheese.

Shelter? Patches of sun-bleached canvas, rags stiff with grime, cardboard swollen by damp. Through gaps, hollow eyes stared from the gloom.

Kids, all skull and enormous eyes.

A stick-figure old man propped against half a wall, a chipped bowl at his feet –empty.

Barefoot children scrambled over debris, feet black as tar.

One tripped, didn't whimper, just hauled himself up and ran on.

Falling? Normal as sunrise here.

[Slums: 55% of Ulann City.] Little System's voice cut through the haze. That number suddenly had weight, crushing.

A sour lump jammed itself in my throat. "Can't....Can't believe half a city lives like this," I croaked. Words felt stupid. Useless.

"What can I do?" The plea ripped out, raw and desperate.

[Go find and take back the Real Stone.]

[Restore it.]

[Ulann's heart beats again.]

[Land heals.]

[Broken things – water pipes, shield domes, clean-air grids – hum back.]

[Sickness retreats.]

[Mana feeds the roots.]

[Slow regrowth.]

Little System laid it out, clean and clinical. Felt miles away from the stink and despair under my boots.

My fist clenched, knuckles white bone. "I swear. I will get that Stone back." The vow wasn't just noise. It was for Bun shivering behind me. For these two sisters desperate eyes. For every soul clinging to life in this mud.

The rubble maze twisted like a gut.

Younger girl gnawed her lip raw, fingers locked on elder sister's sleeve.

Elder sister held herself stiff, exhaustion warring with fear in her eyes.

Maybe my silence screamed too loud. "Names," Eva blurted, shattering the quiet. "Eva. This is Liya."

Liya flinched at her name, peeking up. "Thanks…" A whisper, gratitude drowning in terror.

Eva squeezed Liya's hand. "Place isn't dead yet. we got our guardians holding it together."

"Guardians?"

"'Resistance'," Eva said, the word weighted.

"Not magic. Just… leftovers.''

''Folks who mattered before Ulann fell.''

''Lost their cushy lives when the core got ripped out.''

''Didn't flee. Didn't bend. Changed skins. Picked up steel. Guard us. Scrape together food scraps. Fight off scavengers and gutter-beasts…" Her voice dropped to gravel. "No guardians? This place flatlines."

"Resistance…" The word tasted foreign. A stubborn ember in the ash.

Reality snapped back. "Eva. The thieves. Why bring us here?" I scanned the ruin-scape.

No thief den.

Eva glanced at me with a complex look,

mixed with apology and inexplicable determination.

She pointed to a relatively intact stone house in front of her,

it was like an isolated island in the ruins,

with cracks all over the walls,

but the frame was still solid,

the windows were nailed shut with wooden boards,

and thick, greasy, twisted curtains were hung at the door.

"Go in, and you'll get your answer." She paused, her voice lower,

"I'm sorry, I can only send you here. My grandpa... is still waiting for me to save his life."

Tears flashed in her eyes, but her heart to save her relatives was as hard as iron.

"Thanks, Eva. Take care." 

Eva gripped Liya, shot the hut one last look, vanished into the broken shadows.

Yin and I shared a silent glance. Wariness. I shoved the stinking rag aside.

Stale air slapped me – damp rot, bitter herbs, old copper. Dim.

One crappy oil lamp, cobbled from junk mana crystals, spat weak light.

Bigger inside than out. Floor buried under straw and threadbare sacks.

Stacks of burlap. Water skins. Rusty tools. Worn leathers hung like shed skins on the walls.

"Sister—!!"

That tiny voice. Cracked. Disbelieving. Shattering the stillness.

"Bun!"

A small missile launched from the gloom, slamming into my ribs. Bun! Her fists knotted in my shirt, face buried, hot tears soaking fabric. "Wah... Sister... Sister..." Sobs wracked her tiny frame.

"I'm here. I'm here." I dropped, crushing her close, hands patting, checking.

Grime. Scratches.

No breaks. Half the vise around my heart loosened.

My own eyes burned. Relief, thick and dizzying.

Sense kicked in.

I shoved her behind me, surged up, bow snapping into my grip.

Eyes raked the shadows.

''Little System! Scan the house!''

[Multiple life signs detected.]

[No immediate hostile intent.

[Threat level: Low.]

Confusion bled into its tone.

"Cannot be" I hissed at Yin, bowstring singing.

''No threat?''

''After snatching Bun?''

''A Trap!''

A heavy inner curtain rustled.

A figure slid out. Tall. Lean. Silent as smoke.

"Bun. Guests?" Cool. Raspy.

Instinct won. Draw. Release.

"Wind Blade!" The arrow screamed, hungry for the shadowed throat.

She flowed left. Effortless. The arrow thwicked into wood behind her, shaft humming.

She turned fully. Lamplight caught her face. Young. Hard. Wild planes.

A pale scar slicing brow to cheekbone

–not a flaw, a warning.

Faded grey leathers hugged whipcord muscle.

A ghost of a smirk touched her lips. Hawk eyes pinned us.

"Auntie Xia!" Bun tore past me, wrapping herself around the leg of the woman I'd just tried to kill.

I froze. That face… aged. Scarred. Unmistakable. The Level-A thief. The poster.

''Little System Rescan the lady! NOW!''

[Confirmed. Re-targeting…]

Role: Resistance Leader

Name: Xia

Level: 40 (3,750/55,000)

HP: 3,600/3,600

MP: 1,950/1,950

Attack: 250 (+220) [Dagger: Shadow Fang]

Defense: 72

Agility: 380 (+70) [Boots: Gale-Step]

Accuracy: 70

Crit: 55

Luck: 21

"Resistance Boss? Level- A… cheem stats…" Breath hissed between my teeth.

''That Agility… 380 plus boots?''

''Attack stacked like that? 3600 HP?''

''This wasn't a thief. This was a blender. No wonder my shot missed. She'd fold us like laundry.''

Xia seemed to be used to my shock.

She gently rubbed Bun's head, her eyes fell back on me, and her tone was as light as water: "I received a letter that the old nest was taken by unknown people, and I hurried back to the village, but everything was gone. My people only got some fragmentary information, and Bun was tied up." She paused, and her eyes scraped back and forth between Yin and me, "I followed the clues and found the temporary hideout, just in time to see you arguing with that stupid prince.

Taking advantage of the chaos, I brought Bun back."

Her stare turned arctic. Scraped my skin.

"Wanted measure. See if you could shield her. If you were… trustable."

A glance at the humming arrow.

"Verdict?" Brutal. "Reflexes: Passable.

Brains: Questionable. Muscle…" A soft snort. "...barely registers."

Three more figures melted from the curtain's gloom.

Qin: Tall woman. Mid-twenties. Razor-ponytail. Twin curved blades low on hips. Eyes calm. Measuring.

Tyr: Walking brick wall. Gleaming scalp. Leather vest straining over boulders-for-muscles. A giant, notched axe resting easy. Eyes held a dull kindness beneath the threat.

Krons: Whip-thin. Twitchy eyes. Short bow on back. Belt hung with pouches. Moved like a shadow on oil.

[Scanning...]

[Qin - Lv.21]

[Tyr - Lv.24]

[Krons - Lv.22]

Little System chirped. Below Xia, still above us.

Seeing them together –different weapons,

same hard-edged stillness, same bone-deep respect aimed at Xia

–the last knot in my gut unraveled. Allies.

Resistance core.

Bun was safe here.

Xia nudged Bun towards Qin. "Water." Her gaze locked back on us. "So. Who? Why tangled? Why drag the kid?"

I looked at her. At this crude, stubborn shelter. At the impossible woman leading it.

Alfred's sneer echoed: "Slum vermin… gutter filth… unworthy of breath…" Humiliation.

Fury. It detonated.

I dropped. Knees hit packed earth. Thud. Silence. Even Xia's ice-chip eyes flickered.

"Teach me." My voice shook. My stare didn't.

Xia's scar twitched. "Why?"

"Outside the gates. Prince Alfred." The name tasted foul.

"Said slum rats are gutter filth. City poison. Don't deserve life. Should rot." Breath sawed in. "Argued.

He said… fight him.

Royal Arena. Three days. Prove we're not garbage with fists."

"I took it." The words cracked.

"Three days. Arena. Crowd watching. I will break him. Make him choke on his words. Show him 'vermin' bite back."

Yin stepped beside me. Didn't kneel. Spine like steel. "Leader Xia. I seek your hand. Not for glory. For strength.

To shield Bun. To guard Eva, Liya, others clawing for life.

To defend… this bleeding land." Quiet. Solid as stone.

"We… protect our own." Yin and I spoke as one.

Truth.

Silence. The lamp guttered.

Tyr scratched his scalp.

Qin crossed arms.

Krons watched, owl-eyed.

Xia's gaze flayed us. Her scar stood stark in the gloom.

Time stretched. My heartbeat drummed in my ears. Slum sounds pressed in.

Xia's lips moved. No smile. No scorn. Flat. A single nod.

"Okay."

That word… clean.

"I'll teach." No warmth. "No kid gloves. Three days.

Learn this: Survive the next minute.

Put the enemy down. Fast. Hard. Pain? Injury? Kissing death?

Part of the package.

Walk now? Door's there." Her frostbite stare.

"Gut check. You ready to crawl through hell?"

Joy and dread collided. I knew. No soft lessons. Blood. Bruises. Survival.

No pause. I slammed my forehead into the dirt.

"Teach me, Leader Xia. Hurt me. Break me. I'll take it." Grit in the words.

Yin bowed deep. "We stand ready."

Three days. Change a person?

Dunno.

But we knew this:

Protect the vulnerable people.

Wash away the filth they have thrown.

For this faint, shaky hope...

I will fight through this hell.

Crawl forward.

Seize this opportunity.

Jessic's training will begin in the slums at dawn.

Can she be reborn and change?