The dark horizon answered.
Silas Gray heard it before he understood what it was.
A low vibration travelled through the ground beneath him, so deep that he felt it in his bones rather than his ears. The darkness ahead rippled, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone.
He tried to move.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
"Where… am I?"
His voice sounded strangely small.
Silas pushed himself upright. Beneath his palms was a smooth, grey surface that resembled glass, though it felt cold and faintly damp. There was no sky above him, no buildings, no road—only an endless expanse of grey stretching towards a horizon that seemed too close and too far away at the same time.
He looked behind him.
Nothing.
The place where he had fallen was gone.
"Hello?"
His voice travelled outward, then returned a moment later from somewhere to his left.
Hello… hello…
Silas froze.
The echo had not sounded quite like him.
He stood slowly, brushing dust from his uniform. His schoolbag was missing. His phone was gone, too. He checked his pockets again, hoping he had simply overlooked it.
Nothing.
A thin crack appeared in the ground near his shoe.
Silas stepped back.
The crack widened, revealing a darkness beneath the surface. Something moved inside it.
"Don't touch it."
The voice came from behind him.
Silas spun around.
A man stood several metres away, dressed in a long, dark coat. His black hair was slightly dishevelled, and his expression was so composed that he looked almost bored by the impossible landscape surrounding them.
Silas recognised him.
The bespectacled man from the street.
The man who had appeared just before the world broke apart.
"You," Silas said, taking a step back. "What did you do to me?"
"Nothing you didn't already set in motion."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"No," the man replied. "It doesn't."
Silas clenched his fists. "Where am I?"
"The Folded Seam."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"A place between boundaries. A passage that should not be accessible to someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
The man's gaze briefly dropped to Silas's hand.
The circular mark on his palm had grown darker. Four fine lines extended from its centre, forming a pattern that Silas had seen before—the strange symbol he had pulled from the school noticeboard.
He closed his hand.
The man noticed.
"Keep it covered."
"Tell me what's happening!"
A tremor interrupted him.
The crack in the ground spread, branching into thin, crooked lines. The grey surface beneath Silas's feet began to sink.
Something pressed against the other side.
A long, narrow shape pushed through the opening. Then another. A pale, jointed hand gripped the edge of the crack.
Silas stumbled backwards.
The creature dragged itself out.
It had no face that he could recognise. Its body was an uneven arrangement of dark limbs and pale, stretched material, as if someone had tried to construct a human shape from broken shadows.
Silas could not breathe.
The creature tilted its head.
A sound came from inside it—something between a whisper and the scraping of metal.
"Run," the man said.
Silas did not need to be told twice.
He turned and ran across the grey surface. Behind him came a series of sharp impacts, followed by the sound of something dragging itself along the ground.
Then the man spoke.
"Enough."
The word carried no force that Silas could see. Yet the creature stopped.
A thin line appeared in the air between the man and the creature. It was perfectly straight, almost invisible, like a scratch across a glass window.
The creature convulsed.
Its limbs folded inward. Its body collapsed into a dark stain that spread across the surface before vanishing completely.
Silas stopped running.
The man lowered his hand.
"What was that?" Silas asked.
"An Echo."
"An Echo of what?"
"Something that crossed a boundary it wasn't meant to cross."
Silas stared at the empty ground. "You killed it?"
"I stopped it."
"That thing was trying to kill me!"
"Yes."
"And you're acting like that's normal?"
The man adjusted his glasses.
"Here, it is."
Silas looked at him, struggling to understand whether the man was joking. His expression offered no clue.
"Who are you?" Silas asked.
"Elias Noctis."
"Why were you watching me?"
Elias was silent for a moment.
"Because someone else was."
The words settled heavily between them.
Silas glanced towards the distant horizon. The strange vibration had stopped, but he could still feel something lingering beneath the ground.
"Can you take me home?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because the way you came here is no longer stable. And even if it were, you would not survive crossing it alone."
Silas looked down at his marked palm.
"What is this?"
"A mark."
"I can see that."
"Then you already know more than most people who arrive here."
Silas's frustration rose. "Stop talking in riddles!"
For the first time, Elias's expression changed. It was subtle, barely more than a tightening around his eyes.
"You crossed into a parallel world, Silas. The place you came from is not the only version of reality."
Silas shook his head.
"That's impossible."
"You fell through your own reflection."
Silas had no answer.
He remembered the puddle. The reflection that had moved after he had stopped. The smile that had not belonged to him.
His stomach tightened.
"Am I dead?"
"No."
"Then what happens now?"
Elias turned towards the horizon.
"Now, you come with me."
The journey began without a map.
Elias walked as though he knew exactly where he was going. Silas followed, keeping a cautious distance while trying not to look at the cracks that occasionally appeared beneath the grey surface.
Some of them were thin, barely visible. Others were wide enough to reveal glimpses of places that did not belong to the Folded Seam.
Silas saw a forest upside down.
A staircase descending into a red sky.
For one brief moment, he thought he saw his own classroom on the other side of a crack. The desks were empty, and rain streaked the windows.
He moved towards it.
"Don't."
Elias's voice stopped him.
Silas looked back. "I saw my school."
"You saw an imprint."
"It looked real."
"That does not make it safe."
Silas reluctantly stepped away.
"Can those things come through?"
"Some can."
"Then why are we walking around here?"
"Because the Seam is not a road. It is a wound between places. If you move carelessly, it will notice you."
Silas glanced at his palm.
"Is that why this mark appeared?"
Elias did not answer.
They continued in silence.
After what felt like hours, the grey landscape began to change. A dark outline appeared in the distance, growing larger as they approached.
Buildings.
Silas quickened his pace.
The structures were unlike anything he had seen before. Tall towers leaned at impossible angles, their surfaces made of black stone and dark glass. Narrow bridges connected buildings that seemed to float above the ground. Far beyond them, a vast wall stretched across the horizon, disappearing into the heavy darkness.
There was no sun.
No moon.
Yet Silas could see everything beneath a dim, obsidian-coloured sky.
"What place is this?" he asked.
"The parallel world."
Silas looked towards the distant wall. "Is this another Earth?"
"Not exactly. It mirrors parts of your world, but its boundaries are divided differently."
"Who lives here?"
"People who were born here. People who have crossed over. And things that should remain beyond it."
Elias continued walking.
Silas followed him through a narrow stone passage. The air grew colder, carrying the faint smell of wet earth and rusted metal.
Ahead, a large gate stood between two weathered pillars. A symbol had been carved into its centre: a circle divided by four cuts, each pointing in a different direction.
Silas stopped.
It was the same symbol.
The one from the noticeboard.
The one that had brought him here.
"Why is that everywhere?"
"Because it represents the Four Cuts," Elias said. "The territories that divide this world."
"Who controls them?"
"The Circle of Noble Families."
Silas studied the carving. "And what does that have to do with me?"
"That," Elias replied, "is a question you should be careful about asking."
The gate opened before them.
Beyond it lay an academy.
WTRS Academy rose from the dark landscape like a fortress built to withstand a siege. Its central towers were tall and imposing, their narrow windows glowing with pale light. The main structure was surrounded by smaller buildings, training grounds and stone walkways.
Silas could hear distant voices.
The clatter of metal.
The heavy thud of something striking a training barrier.
For the first time since falling through the reflection, he saw people.
Students in dark uniforms crossed the courtyard in groups. Some carried weapons. Others wore strange bands around their wrists, glowing faintly beneath their sleeves.
A few glanced at Silas as he passed.
Their eyes lingered on his ordinary school uniform.
One student whispered something to another.
Silas lowered his gaze.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To the Null Division Annex."
"Is that a department?"
"A division."
"Of this academy?"
"Yes."
"Why there?"
"Because that is where you will stay."
Silas stopped walking.
"Wait. You're leaving me here?"
"I'm bringing you somewhere you can be protected."
"By people I don't know?"
"Correct."
"That's your plan?"
"It is the safest available option."
Silas stared at him. "You can't just dump me in a strange school in another world!"
Elias looked at him calmly.
"I can. And I am."
Silas opened his mouth, then shut it again.
He had no idea how to argue with someone who treated the impossible as an ordinary inconvenience.
They left the main courtyard and followed a narrow path along the academy's outer wall. The buildings became older and less maintained the farther they walked. Cracked stone steps led towards a structure partially hidden behind overgrown trees.
A faded sign hung above its entrance.
WTRS ACADEMY — NULL DIVISION ANNEX
One of the letters had fallen off.
The building looked abandoned.
A window was boarded up. The paint had peeled from the walls, and weeds grew between the stones. A broken lantern hung beside the entrance, swaying slightly despite the absence of wind.
Silas looked from the building to Elias.
"This is the academy?"
"This is the Annex."
"It looks like it's about to collapse."
"It has been inspected."
"When?"
"Eleven months ago."
Silas stared at him.
Elias opened the door.
"Come in."
The inside was no better.
A long corridor stretched ahead, its walls marked by old stains and patches of repaired plaster. Several doors lined either side, some with faded room numbers and others without handles.
A single lamp flickered overhead.
Silas followed Elias into a common room. Old furniture had been arranged around a low table, and a narrow staircase led to the upper floor. A stack of books leaned precariously against one wall.
Four students were already inside.
The first sat near the window, reading a thick book. He had neat dark hair and a composed expression, and he looked up only when Elias entered.
"Sir," he said.
"Seo Jin," Elias replied. "We have a new arrival."
Seo Jin closed his book and studied Silas.
"Another transfer?"
"Something like that."
The second student was sitting cross-legged on the floor, tapping the side of a small device. She had sharp eyes and an expression that suggested she was always listening to something other people could not hear.
"Nara," Elias said.
She looked up.
"His footsteps are uneven," she observed.
Silas blinked. "What?"
"Your left foot lands harder than your right. You're injured."
"I'm fine."
"You're also breathing too quickly."
"I said I'm fine."
Nara shrugged and returned to her device.
A broad-shouldered boy stood near a table, carefully arranging a set of small metal pieces. He glanced at Silas, then at Elias.
"Iven," Elias introduced.
Iven gave a brief nod.
The last student was leaning against the staircase, arms folded. She had a serious expression and a small scar near her eyebrow.
"Tamsin," Elias said.
"Sir," she replied, then looked directly at Silas. "What happened to him?"
"He crossed a boundary."
Tamsin's expression hardened.
"That kind of arrival is prohibited."
"Most arrivals are," Elias said.
The room fell quiet.
Silas glanced between them. "Can someone explain what's going on?"
Seo Jin rose from his chair.
"You're in Null," he said. "That's all you need to understand for now."
"Null?"
"Our division."
"Why is it called that?"
Seo Jin looked towards Elias.
Elias answered before he could.
"Because the academy has four divisions, each associated with one of the Four Cuts. Null is the fourth."
Silas looked around the neglected room.
"And the others?"
"Arcana. Ferus. Vanguard."
"Are they all like this?"
Nara let out a short laugh.
"No. Their buildings have working lights."
Iven added, "And proper equipment."
Tamsin folded her arms more tightly. "And funding."
Elias ignored the remarks.
"Silas will stay here."
Seo Jin's gaze sharpened. "Permanently?"
"For now."
"And his classification?"
"Unassigned."
Silas frowned. "I'm standing right here."
"Then you can hear the answer," Elias said. "Your placement will be determined during the sorting ceremony."
"When is that?"
"Soon."
Silas rubbed his forehead.
He wanted to go home. He wanted someone to tell him that this was a nightmare, that he would wake up in his own bed and return to the ordinary life he had known that morning.
Instead, he was standing in a decaying academy in another world, surrounded by strangers who spoke as if his arrival was a bureaucratic problem.
Elias turned towards the staircase.
"Seo Jin, show him an empty room. Nara, check the perimeter. Iven, make sure the west-side anchors are holding. Tamsin, report any unusual movement."
The four students moved immediately.
Silas watched them.
"Why are they listening to you?"
"Because I am responsible for this division."
"You're a teacher?"
"Among other things."
Elias started towards the corridor.
"Wait," Silas called. "What about my family? My school? Can I contact anyone?"
Elias paused.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because the moment you crossed over, the people watching for you became aware that you were no longer hidden."
Silas felt the mark on his palm grow warm.
"Who's watching me?"
Elias looked back at him.
"That is what we need to find out."
Seo Jin led Silas upstairs.
The corridor was narrow, with doors on either side and a single window at the far end. The room assigned to Silas contained a bed, a wooden desk and a wardrobe with a broken hinge.
The window faced the academy's outer wall.
"Not much," Seo Jin said, "but it's yours."
Silas placed his hand on the desk. Dust coated his fingertips.
"Do all students live here?"
"Only Null."
"Why?"
Seo Jin hesitated.
"Because the other divisions don't want us near them."
"Did you do something?"
"No."
"Then why?"
Seo Jin looked towards the window.
"Some questions are easier to leave unanswered."
He turned to go.
"Seo Jin."
The student stopped.
"Do you know how I can get home?"
Seo Jin's expression softened, just slightly.
"I don't know."
Then he left, closing the door behind him.
Silas sat on the edge of the bed.
For a long time, he did nothing.
Then he opened his hand.
The mark was still there.
Four lines. One circle.
He traced its shape with his thumb, and a faint pulse travelled through his palm.
The room became colder.
Silas quickly closed his fist.
A sound came from the window.
A light tap.
He looked up.
Nothing stood outside.
Another tap.
Silas approached slowly and pulled the curtain aside.
Beyond the glass was the academy's outer wall, its dark stones barely visible in the dim light. For a moment, he saw only his own reflection.
Then the reflection moved.
Silas remained still.
His reflection raised its head.
A thin smile spread across its face.
Silas stumbled backwards.
The glass darkened, swallowing the reflected room until only two pale shapes remained where his eyes should have been.
A whisper slipped through the window.
"Found you."
The mark in Silas's palm burned.
Downstairs, a door slammed open.
He heard Elias's voice, low and sharp.
"Everyone away from the windows. Now."
Silas backed away from the glass.
Outside, something shifted along the wall, moving towards the western edge of the academy—towards a massive gate sealed beneath layers of dark metal.
A gate that bore the same four-cut symbol.
The West Cut.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Silas understood one thing with absolute certainty.
Whatever had followed him here knew exactly where he was.
END OF CHAPTER 2