As the name was called out, Eroan returned to reality.

  But for Ira, the dimensional world was her reality.

  Still, at that moment, something within her shattered. A subtle memory surfaced simply from the sound of her name. As if, in that instant, the only thing that mattered was hearing him out. Nothing else mattered. Not her twisted perception of reality. Not her ambitions.

  There was the truth standing before her.

  She had to choose—move forward and accept it, or reject it as a lie and accuse it of being the false reality instead.

  It was a matter of choice. And choice would bear consequences.

  Without wasting a second, she stopped herself from hurting him.

  The wind rose violently, as if a cyclone were closing in. The moon shone coldly through the dark atmosphere. Leaves twisted and spiraled through the air. A chilling haze spread across the street.

  She stepped forward, dragging her feet across the ground. Each step cracked the pavement beneath her.

  It wasn’t physical strength.

  It was the weight of energy surrounding her—uncontrolled, overflowing.

  For a moment, she had little control over her power. But as she approached Eroan, her breathing steadied. Her energy stabilized.

  She adjusted her grip with a subtle twist of her wrist.

  Then she swung.

  Her blades sliced through the dense layers of dimensions she had constructed earlier—the very layers meant to execute the soul exchange borne by the ring.

  She cut through them casually, as if they were nothing more than silk threads. The dimensions shattered one after another, falling apart like glass beneath steel. It was as though she were cutting butter, and her swords were the knives.

  Without hesitation, without a single wasted movement, Ira reached Eroan.

  With a flick of her fingers, the restraints binding him vanished.

  He gasped, drawing breath freely again.

  She looked at him asking him the long awaited question.

  “How do you know my name?”

  Eroan remained silent outwardly, but inside, his thoughts raced.

  His tense expression slowly relaxed.

  "Guess my assumption was right… It really is her name. Looks like she doesn’t know others can see it when she transforms."

  He exhaled softly.

  "Now I have to keep up the act. And put on another one."

  After a moment of rapid thinking, he formed his expression carefully, knowing full well that whatever came next would not end well.

  2

  The moment Ira exposed herself to reality, the immense reserve of sapphire energy within her flooded outward.

  It spread through the city in seconds.

  The pressure alone was enough to alert anyone sensitive to power fluctuations. The energy wave pulsed across buildings, streets, and rooftops. People would feel it—if not consciously, then instinctively. The air felt heavier. Thicker.

  Anyone exposed too closely would risk harm.

  The explosive density of sapphire energy blanketed the surroundings like an invisible storm.

  3

  Moments before the reveal—

  The city stood alive beneath the night sky.

  Lights glowed across buildings. Cars streamed through streets in endless lines. Traffic flowed in constant motion. Structured towers and decorated storefronts stood illuminated under artificial brilliance.

  Among them all, one skyscraper towered above the rest.

  It was the tallest structure in the city, its peak nearly piercing the night sky.

  Floor by floor, its height seemed endless.

  And at its very edge, where no one dared to stand - someone rested casually. One leg bent and a cowboy hat tilted low.

  A phone pressed to his ear.

  It was none other than the Cowboy Hat Guy.

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine,” he said calmly. “I’m on duty. I’ll come home soon enough.”

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  His voice was steady, dense, yet faintly bittersweet.

  Then he paused.

  The wind shifted.

  The dense energy riding through the air brushed against him.

  His gaze lowered slightly. A hint of disappointment crossed his face.

  “...If everything’s fine.” He ended the call.

  The air pressed differently now. He felt it.

  “The air is thicker today.”

  He leaned slightly forward, head tilted toward the wind.

  After a brief moment of stillness, he tapped the watch on his wrist.

  A female voice responded instantly.

  “Is anything the matter, sir?”

  He straightened slightly, pulling his hat lower over his eyes.

  “Be ready.”

  "On duty, sir!” she replied being ready. Her tone was sharp and unwavering.

  He ended the connection.

  Turning slowly, he gazed at the moon admiring the light it has.

  “The night is going to be really long.”

  The moonlight reflected in his eyes, making them glow faintly. It was almost as if hope itself had been ignited within that reflection.

  He stood mere inches away from the edge.

  He removed his hat and let it hang around his neck by its string. With one hand, he brushed his hair back into place.

  In a calm, deliberate tone, he murmured—

  “It takes time…”

  He stepped forward into empty space.

  “…to fall.”

  He spread his arms wide as gravity claimed him.

  He was smiling.

  Not fully.

  More like a smirk. It was a smile an exaggerated one, almost playful.

  Halfway through the descent, his expression sharpened.

  “Stabilize orientation.” he said.

  Blue sparks burst from his hands.

  Energy surged downward, compressing the air beneath him.

  The downward velocity was cancelled as an upward acceleration burst outward—stronger than gravity itself. His body tightened. Energy condensed along his spine.

  The air beneath him caved inward.

  A violent crack split the night.

  The fall halted.

  Wind exploded outward in every direction.

  His body shifted from a horizontal spread to a vertical stance.

  He slowed the deceleration deliberately to avoid instant harm.

  Then, with controlled grace, he descended the remaining distance and landed softly on the sidewalk.

  Without hesitation, he pulled out a compact umbrella and clicked it open. It extended to full length in a second. While he had an umbrella he was also holding a stick on the other hand.

  A quiet attempt to avoid attention.

  Even though he had just performed a spectacle in open air. As shadows stretched across the pavement, his form shifted.

  He did not enter them.

  He became the shadows surrounding him.

  Absorbing nearly all visible light, reflecting nothing back. A silhouette carved out of reality. A void where light should have been. People could not perceive him with mere eyes. To them he was nothing but a part of the night's sky.

  Only faint blue sparks lingered—but from a distance, they were nearly invisible. He moved through the crowd, weaving through pedestrians and traffic.

  Eventually, he reached a quieter street with minimal lighting.

  “Now’s the time.”

  His form deepened into shadow.

  Humans perceive light only within wavelengths of roughly 400–700 nanometers. He reflected none of it.

  His existence slipped beyond ordinary perception.

  A living shadow.

  He accelerated again, following the sapphire energy signals.

  The wind carried information.

  He moved from building to building with controlled speed, maintaining alignment with airflow patterns.

  He covered ten miles in a minute and a half.

  All while reducing his velocity just enough to prevent shockwave distortion.

  Moving too fast would disrupt atmospheric signals.

  He aligned himself with the rhythm of the wind, sensing subtle pressure shifts.

  The disturbance was there. Carried quietly through the currents.

  4

  Back at the scene—

  Nothing had changed. Except the plan. Eroan was swearing. Though, he had an idea.

  “This is do or die at this point,” he whispered. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  “Ira… don’t you remember me? We were friends.”

  His voice softened. Warm. Genuine.

  Upon hearing that, her eyes shimmered faintly.

  Hope flickered.

  She extended her hand toward him.

  “Do you remember the promise?”

  Her tone was gentle.

  But the question struck him unprepared.

  He looked down.

  Ashamed at himself for lying and playing with one's emotion. Not knowing how important that was to her.

  “I apologize!.”

  He stepped back slightly.

  “I don’t remember anything. It was all an act.”

  Her breath faltered.

  The words struck her like glass—sharp, cold, undeniable.

  For a moment, her heartbeat seemed to pause.

  Silence swallowed the space between them. Everything fell silent at that moment even the wind was quiet waiting for reaction.

  Then—

  She smiled.

  Beautiful.

  Not joyful. But accepting.

  As if she had finally realized that escaping reality was nothing more than some blasphemy or some might say a lie crafted for comfort. After that, she said " Very well then".

  She raised her sword toward him.

  The other blade pointed toward the sky.

  “Dementation sow.” she commanded . Upon saying that she began to float with a otherworldly force surrounding her.

  Dark green energy erupted outward.

  Black shades rippled through the air. Ultraviolet streaks flickered violently. The ground cracked, disintegrating beneath the pressure.

  The attack had not yet been released—

  And yet destruction had already begun.

  Eroan searched desperately for escape.

  There was none.

  The ground beneath him shrank to a final fragment. The only place remaining was the one where he stood alone.

  5

  When everything seemed lost—

  He arrived. Skidding across the street, stopping from a long run.

  There was a thirty-meter gap between the remaining ground and the street.

  He stepped back. Then sprinted forward.

  Leaping across the distance, he landed beside Eroan.

  A hand tapped his shoulder. “Thanks for holding out that long,” he said calmly. “It’ll be alright. Just wait a little longer.”

  Eroan stared at him, exhausted, clothes torn and scattered.

  The man pointed that stick directly toward the incoming attack. It transformed into a sword. Then he uttered the words-

  “Florence , show the light.” The attack dimmed momentarily.

  Then the sword absorbed the incoming energy and released it outward with multiplied force. Making the output impact reflect over by few times.

  Ira unleashed the blow fully. The reflection clashed violently.

  But the sword began cracking under the strain.

  “Now that’s a scale two for you,” he whispered.

  He looked at Eroan. “Looks like you can’t run.”

  Without warning, he lifted Eroan with his left arm.

  The sword reverted to a stick upon his calling. The sword was at the point of having a few cracks.

  Then he ran.

  Ira attempted to stop him.

  Not even looking at her.

  He launched an imitation stick toward her.

  She dodged that stick effortlessly but it had a timer. As the light blew off, it was an explosion right beside her. Pushing her back briefly before shattering.

  She could have pursued.

  But she didn’t. She was tired and thought it was pointless at that point.

  The moment was too chaotic.

  They escaped.

  As he carried Eroan, the wind rushed around them. They were going with the wind, flowing with it. As becoming one with the nature.

  “Put me down, Cowboy Hat Guy!” Eroan shouted weakly.

  He smiled faintly. Looking at the city scape flying above them.

  “That’s not my name.”

  They moved with the wind, above the city.

  Eroan enjoying the view of the city and night sky relaxed slightly, resting in his arm. Although, it wasn't that good of a resting place.

  Moments later—

  He asked Eroan " Is that your first time flying through the sky?"

  “Ah. He fell asleep.” He glanced down. “Must’ve been exhausted. Sleep well.”

  And under the night sky, they continued running.

  Into escape.