Prologue: Gateway

Venn's surroundings warped into existence, familiar and yet surreal. The white glow of cards illuminated the space as he found himself locked in a card battle with a mysterious figure. Each move, each drawn card, felt like déjà vu. A sense of disquiet settled in his chest, and as the cards were laid out before him, Venn's realization dawned — this was the same dream, the same unwinnable game, a loop from which he couldn't escape.

"This again?" Venn's thoughts reverberated in the silent expanse, frustration carved in the mist that danced through the surreal air. The cards hovered above his palm, each one a luminescent portal to an inscrutable fate. He squared his shoulders, confronting the mystery that stood across from him.

Just as the oppressive weight of repetition threatened to suffocate him, an abrupt shrill pierced his surroundings. Venn's eyes snapped open, greeted by the cold reality of his room. The digital clock, a silent witness to his nightmares, displayed a merciless truth — 10:30 am. "Huh?!" Panic surged through him, he threw aside his blanket and rushed out of the bed to a quick, almost mechanical shower.

Rhythmic patter came from the bathroom, leaving trails of droplets all over the floor. Venn swiftly grabbed the clothes sitting on the edge of his tiny apartment sofa and starts wearing the familiar weight of his work uniform, the mirror reflected back his weary, baggy eyes as he buttoned up. "Ugh, she's gonna be pissed again," He disliked the idea of expecting another earful from his boss as this would be his third time coming late to work this month.

His small apartment, a canvas of muted tones, bore witness to the daily rituals of a man caught between his issues. As Venn slung his backpack over his shoulder, his gaze was drawn to the small smart television. Its screen revealing a famous cooking show. Yet, instead of inspiration, a bitter taste lingered in Venn's mouth. Resentment crept into his eyes as he watched, a stark contrast to the culinary delight on display before being turned off.

In his haste, Venn rode his bicycle, pedals churning beneath his urgency. The cityscape blurred into streaks of color as he navigated the streets, oblivious to the traffic lights dictating order. A red light loomed ahead, only to be ignored given the panic surging his whole body. "Sorry!" The screech of brakes and a blare of horns sliced through the air as a car skidded to an abrupt stop, narrowly avoiding a collision with the reckless cyclist.

Inside the car, the driver's face contorted with a colorful array of expletives, "is that idiot crazy?! I almost hit him!" A display of frustration directed at the disappearing figure on the bicycle. A girl in the passenger seat gasped, her hand instinctively covering her mouth. The close call etched a fleeting shock on her face, momentarily disconnecting her from the reality of the bustling urban scene.

As the cyclist pedaled away, the driver's tirade lingered in the air like a scratch of missed calamity. The girl, shaken from her momentary stupor, turned to the driver, who now wore a face of concern. "Are you okay?" the driver asked, the weight of the near-miss settling in the air like a palpable tension. The intersection, resumed its chaotic pattern as the traffic light shifted, indifferent to the near-collision that happened a mere moment ago.

A sharp cadence cutting through the hustle of the restaurant's backroom, rang like a disapproving siren. "Venn, we've got customers waiting, how many times will this make!?" his boss admonished, her words punctuating the air with authority. "Sorry Lyna…" The clatter of pots and pans seemed to hush momentarily, as if in reluctant acknowledgment of the reprimand.

Lyna's gaze, unyielding and yet tinged with an understanding hint, bore into Venn. "We're a team, not a solo act," she continued, the stern lecture softened by a subtle empathy. "Don't make a habit of making everyone wait."

she took a moment to acknowledge the weariness painted on Venn's face. "Make up for the lost time," she said, the words carrying the weight of both directive and compassion. "2 hours overtime today!" She smirked.

A wave of gratitude washed over Venn, "I won't disappoint you again boss!" relief replacing the tension that had knotted his shoulders. He nodded, acknowledging the lifeline thrown to him by Lyna. As he made his way to the back kitchen, the sizzling sounds of their signature chicken tenders greeted him. Venn, fueled by both gratitude and determination, set to work, turning the kitchen into it's usual lively energy that contributed to the eatery's reputation as a well-known hotspot in the district.

As the hands of the restaurant clock marked the passage of time, the atmosphere shifted with the nearing dusk. The clinking of utensils harmonized with the low hum of conversations. Lyna, the face of their eatery, saw a fresh wave of customers into the establishment, "Welcome to Munchiekens!" All of the staff greeted them in spirited unison, showing the excellence of their cozy hospitality.

Amidst the queue of orders and savory fragrances, Lyna's voice cut through the din. "Venn!" she called out, her tone a blend of camaraderie and command. With a graceful smile, she gestured to the bustling scene around her, inviting him into the front counter.

Her expression shifted, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she delivered the news about Wiley, the absent delivery guy. "Looks like you've got an adventure on the horizon, Venn," Lyna quipped, a playful sparkle in her eye. "Wiley's down for the count, and we need a hero to save the day."

Venn, elbows deep in his cooking apron, nodded in acknowledgment. "Sure thing, Lyna. I've got it covered," he affirmed, turning on another grill for the delivery order.

Lyna's grin widened. "Perfect! Get some fresh air, my favorite chef. Can't have you turning into a kitchen ghost," she teased, a playful glimmer in her eyes. Venn, taking a moment to register the jest, offered a small smile. "That was a pretty bad joke," he replied softly, a hint of weariness in his eyes.

The banter continued, Lyna's smile undeterred. "Well, I can't have my favorite chef fried up either, so consider it an order from your boss. Take a breather out there, Venn. And if not, I might have to turn those baggy eyes into a matching set of black eyes," she teased, a lighthearted threat that hung in the air. Venn, caught between exhaustion and amusement, apologized with a quiet chuckle.

"Aaand, done." A woman gracefully finished her payment, her fingers tapping steadily on the digital screen. Beside her, a younger girl, her face concealed by a black mask, released a heavy sigh, her gaze fixated on the cold ground below.

The woman, an air of maturity enveloping her, broke the silence. "We're in for a treat tonight. I ordered the local's favorite chicken tenders; we can enjoy them at the hotel later," she remarked, her voice carrying a soothing assurance. Yet, the girl with the mask remained visibly troubled, her thoughts etched across her downturned expression.

"Hey, It's just a brief meeting," the woman continued, a comforting hand resting on the girl's shoulder. "We'll sit for a few minutes, hear out the music label's offer, and then we're out. No cameras, no strings attached."

A tentative glance from the masked girl met the woman's gaze, her eyes betraying a mixture of relief and gratitude. The woman, reassured her once more. "I've already planned to turn down the offer. Just a formality. Nothing to worry about," she added, a gentle smile softening the weight of the situation.

The masked girl, her eyes now alight with newfound reassurance, uttered a sincere gratitude towards the woman, "r-really? Thanks Maxie.." With a subtle gesture, Maxie inclined her head towards the tag around her neck, revealing her role as the music manager. They sat together, a study in contrasts, in a quiet office corridor adorned with rows of empty seats.

A low-volume smart television hummed nearby, reporting on the recent missing cases in Metrosonix City. The news anchor's voice reverberated in the corridor, intertwining with the girl's lingering concerns. Mention of a mysterious earthquake months prior, just before the surge in missing cases, added an eerie layer to the already somber atmosphere.

The tranquility was interrupted by a staff member, their steps echoing down the corridor. "They're ready for you now, this way please," the staff called out, beckoning them into the meeting room. With a shared glance and a shared breath, Maxie and the masked girl followed, leaving the corridor to its quiet contemplation and the noise of distant news reports.

The narrative of the recent missing cases continued but now, inside a vintage television, its screen flickering with the sepia tones of a bygone era, at the front of a thrift shop. The busy traffic outside provided a backdrop, a discord of honks and the shuffle of pedestrians carrying takeaway treasures.

Meanwhile, Venn, navigating the maze of vehicles on his company scooter, found himself entangled in the mesh of urban congestion. Amid the district's chaos, he engaged in a voice call with his boss, Lyna, the frustration evident in his voice. "Hey, boss? Did you forget to check the location order again?" he questioned, the rumble of traffic underscoring his annoyance.

Lyna's voice, a soothing balm through the digital connection, responded with an apologetic tone. "Oh! I'm sorry, Venn~! You don't have to work overtime for this one. It slipped through the cracks." The concession hung in the air, a pardon for Venn's overloaded schedule.

Venn, though initially reluctant, weighed the options in the midst of his scooter's stationary existence in the traffic snarl. The prospect of avoiding additional working hours, a rare commodity in his hectic routine, tilted the scales. "I guess it's better than extra hours, fine," he finally committed, the weariness in his tone softened by a practical acceptance.

Munchiekens, a sanctuary nestled within the warmth of the Viatis District, prided itself on its charm, drawing patrons seeking a cozy dining experience. The restaurant's fame, however, came with a caveat—deliveries were restricted to the district's confines so Venn was surprised why Lyna would accept an order from their neighboring Nebulle District.

Before the traffic lights transition from red to green, Venn deftly plugged his wireless earphones. The radio, a silent companion amid the traffic, turned down at a volume that allowed him to remain attuned to the vehicles around him, just in case.

As the hold-up surged forward, the radio DJ's voice punctuated into the background of the district. "And now, a song that's become the heartbeat of our city," the DJ proclaimed, a voice resonant with a shared sentiment. The notes of a recently viral song emanated, its creator hidden behind the mysterious artist by the name of, 'Symphxnie.'

Debates swarming in online platforms, swirling rumors speculating on the artist's identity—AI-generated or a flesh-and-blood virtuoso? The rise of Symphxnie, had become a digital phenomenon, an uplifting current in Metrosonix City's present reality.

The radio DJ, acknowledged the artist's impact. "In times when our city struggles with the aftermath of the mysterious earthquake, Symphxnie's music has definitely been one of the good thing that came after," the DJ noted. The songs were imbued with intimacy and sooth like a personal warm hug to everyone who listened.

The scene shifts to the Viatis District basking in the golden hour, known for its lively culinary scene that attracts both locals and visitors from neighboring districts. The sun casts a warm glow on the bustling streets, where a mix of warm-hearted citizens and tourists explore the diverse range of eateries that line the cobblestone pathways.

Viatis, one of the four districts of Metrosonix City, isn't just about the food; it's an experience. The district's charm lies in its casual yet inviting atmosphere, drawing people in with the promise of good meals and a welcoming vibe. The streets are alive with the chatter of patrons and the enticing smells wafting from various kitchens. As the district welcomes both familiar faces and newcomers, there's a shared sense of community. The locals know the best spots, and tourists eagerly follow their noses to discover hidden gems.

Arriving at the hotel, Venn glanced at his phone to confirm the time—just past 6:00 pm, an entire hour since the order had been placed. The city's golden hour had transitioned into the subdued hues of evening as he parked his scooter in a space designated for delivery drivers at the back of the hotel.

The delivery area, shrouded in neglect, exuded an eerie emptiness that gave Venn a momentary pause. "Huh, that's definitely not creepy at all," the stillness seemed at odds with the vibrant life he had left behind in Viatis District. Undeterred, he proceeded to open the bag attached to his scooter, reassured by the knowledge that the innovative insulation, "if it weren't for this, I'd probably lose my job by now," a creation from the Center Plaza District, would preserve the food's freshness even after five hours of preparation.

His eyes, however, were drawn to a nearby building undergoing renovations. Scaffolding stretched skyward, and glass panels adorned the structure in various stages of completion, some panels were laid against the scaffolding itself. It struck Venn as an odd choice for the workers to put it there, considering the potential safety hazards. He briefly pondered the logistics, the glass panels glinting under the ambient glow of the city lights, before turning his attention toward the hotel's entrance.

In a hotel room adorned with the muted glow of city lights, Maxie tilted a can of beer toward her lips, the sound of the tab popping open punctuating the air. With a practiced ease, she took a long, satisfying gulp, the cool liquid providing a momentary respite. A loud sigh of relief escaped her as she lowered the now-empty can.

"Aah~, nothing beats a relaxing session after a stressful meeting," Maxie declared, her words a proclamation of the solace found in the simple act of unwinding. She shook the can lightly, a clinking of aluminum against glass, before casting it aside.

The girl with her, now unmasked, stood by the window, the city's nocturnal panorama unfolding before her. Maxie's rejuvenation met with an arched eyebrow from the girl, who couldn't help but voice her concern. "You're turning into an alcoholic, Maxie."

Maxie chuckled at the accusation, her laughter resonated within the room. "You'll understand when you hit your thirties," she teased, a hint of playfulness in her voice. Yet, as the jest lingered in the air, Maxie's expression shifted, "wait, wasn't the food supposed to be delivered by now?" a brief acknowledgment of the fleeting nature of time.

The girl's judgmental gaze lingered on Maxie's disgruntled expression before she sighed, deciding to step out for a breath of fresh air. As she reached for the doorknob, Maxie's voice called her back.

"Stella," Maxie said, a blend of concern and familiarity in her tone. She handed over the black mask, a symbol of their shared experiences and, perhaps, a shield from the world outside the room. "Have you been feeling okay? You've been going on so many night walks lately," Maxie inquired, her worry manifesting in both words and gestures.

Stella hesitated, her eyes meeting Maxie's before glancing away. "It's just… the upcoming album. It's cramping my brain," she confessed, but they've been together enough for Maxie to call her bluff yet she didn't want to pry, a burden visible in the lines on her forehead. "Walking at night helps clear my head."

Maxie's concern deepened, and she suggested, "We could postpone the project if you need time. You know I won't mind." The sincerity in her words reflected a genuine commitment to her companion's welfare.

Stella, however, dismissed her manager's offer with a reassuring smile. "It's nothing serious, Maxie, don't worry alright? Just text me when the food arrives," she affirmed, the conviction in her voice underscoring her determination to press on. With a nod, Stella finally stepped out into the corridor, leaving Maxie behind, a perplexed expression plain on her face.

The hotel's main lobby, welcomed Venn as he secured permission from the attentive staff to proceed further. In the midst of explanations about the room's location, Venn's eyes caught a glimpse of a mysterious figure. A girl, concealed behind a mask, donned a cap gowned with her stylish long hair underneath, moving inconspicuously across the lobby toward the rear of the hotel.

A peculiar sensation gripped Venn as he observed this strange sighting. A tinge of curiosity mingled with a fleeting sense of unease, prompting him to momentarily divert his attention from the staff's guidance.

"Is everything okay, sir?" the staff inquired, their polite tone carrying a hint of concern.

Venn, caught off guard by the peculiar sight, stammered in response, "Uh, yeah. Everything's fine." A brief pause followed before he awkwardly added, "Could you, uh, repeat where the room is again?"

The staff, obliging but perhaps slightly puzzled by Venn's distracted demeanor, patiently reiterated the directions. As Venn turned to follow their guidance, his gaze involuntarily flicked back to the girl with the mask, disappearing into the shadows of the hotel's rear.

Before hotel room 375, Venn consulted his phone, ensuring he had the correct order details. With a deep breath, he rang the bell, the chime echoing through the quiet corridor. The door creaked open, revealing Maxie's grumpy countenance. However, the tantalizing scent of Munchiekens' signature chicken tenders wafted out, and like a magician's trick, Maxie's mood transformed.

Her face, once etched with irritation, now glowed with a divine light. "Apologies for the tardiness ma'am," Venn offered, a thread of guilt laced through his words.

Maxie, reassured by the aromatic apology, chuckled. "Your timing may be off young man, but the chicken's isn't," she quipped, a smile playing on her lips.

As Venn began to believe the storm had passed, Maxie's furrowed brow caught him off guard. She stared at him intently, her eyes probing his features. "You look very familiar," she remarked, her tone piqued with curiosity.

An internal groan echoed in Venn's mind. "Here we go again," he mumbled silently, a particular cooking show crawled into the back of his mind, preparing to explain the mix-up. Before he could utter a word, Maxie's sudden exclamation shattered the moment.

"Ah! You're the cyclist!" Maxie pointed accusingly, her revelation accompanied by a shout. Venn, momentarily bewildered, recalled the morning's near-miss. Hastily, he apologized, explaining the misunderstanding.

To his surprise, Maxie's irritation melted into forgiveness. "Well, delivering the food this far is redemption enough, you're lucky I'm super hungry kid," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. The tension diffused, replaced by the aroma of chicken tenders and the shared amusement of an unexpected reunion.

The delivery parking area yet again, shrouded in the quiet hum of the night, greeted Venn as he emerged from the hotel's rear exit. The crisp air carried a sense of calm, interrupted only by the distant sounds of the city.

Seated on his scooter, Venn ignited the engine, its familiar rumble a prelude to his next journey. However, the tranquility shattered abruptly, replaced by the unmistakable screech of car tires. A jolt of panic surged through him as he swiveled to locate the source.

A car, its tires protesting against the asphalt, careened into the parking area. Instinctively, Venn braced for impact, "whoa whoa whoaAaaAaA!!" Only for the vehicle to swerve past him, leaving behind the echo of its hurried passage. His heart raced as he turned once more, catching sight of a figure in distinctive purple clothing within the speeding car.

The parking lot, now held fragments of mayhem. Venn's eyes darted to the glass panels and scaffolding on the other side, it's now completely in shambles. Metal pipes lay strewn across the ground, an unintended obstacle course.

Curiosity edged out caution, compelling Venn to investigate the aftermath. As he approached, the broken glass crunched beneath his footsteps, "what the hell just happened," a discomforting addition to the eerie scene.

Amidst the disarray, an unusual sight caught Venn's attention—the lone, intact glass panel. A strange glow emanated from it, beckoning him closer. Metal pipes lay scattered, their reflections following in the fractured glass. Venn, despite the disorienting scene, was drawn to the last standing panel.

As he approached, the air seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly energy. Flashes of his recent nightmare, the card battles and the mysterious figure, flickered in his mind. Venn shook his head, attempting to dispel the haunting images. Yet, as he peered into the glowing glass, the surreal visions persisted.

In a bizarre twist, the scene within the glass shifted. The girl from earlier materialized, her form encapsulated within the glowing panel. Venn's confusion deepened, his mind wrestling with the implausible nature of what his eyes are telling him. "W-Wait, how is this happening?" he muttered.

The girl within the glowing panel appeared in distress, cradling another figure in her arms. Venn, compelled by a strange mix of concern and curiosity, called out to her. "Hey!" However, his words seemed to dissipate into the disconcerting atmosphere, unheard by the spectral figures trapped within the glass confines.

Surveying his surroundings, Venn hesitated for a moment. The parking lot, still bathed in a weird glow, carrying witness to this unbelievable encounter. With a deep breath, Venn steeled himself for the inexplicable. It felt like a dream, a reality bending at the edges.

Ready to unravel the mystery, Venn closed his eyes, the cool air around him tingling with an inexplicable energy. Committing to an action that defied reason, "here goes nothing!" He sprinted toward the glowing glass panel. His footsteps resonated in the disarray, a heartbeat in sync with the surreal landscape.

As he collided with the glass, a surreal moment of weightlessness enveloped him. Miraculously, it transcended the boundaries of a mere vision. When Venn opened his eyes, the disorienting glow of the glass panel had given way to an entirely new reality.

The parking lot, "wait.. what?" Though seemingly unchanged, pulsed with an uncanny energy that sent shivers down Venn's spine. He cast a perplexed gaze around, trying to decipher the subtle nuances that differentiated this reality from the one he had just left. Before he could grasp the peculiarities, a voice, the same girl with the mask from before, cut through the disconcerting silence.

She emerged from the surreal backdrop, carrying an unconscious figure in her arms. Venn, caught between disbelief and a growing sense of urgency, approached with a mixture of concern and curiosity clear across his face.

"A-Are you okay?" Venn's words hung in the charged air, his eyes probing for answers.

It was Stella, her mask concealing emotions, wasted no time. "Help me with them. We need to leave—now!" she urged, thrusting the unconscious person into Venn's arms.

"Later," the girl insisted. "Right now, we need to get out of here." Her focus shifted as she abruptly turned and sprinted back toward the crumbling surroundings.

Without a second thought, Venn assisted in carrying the unconscious person. Questions lingered on the tip of his tongue, but the urgency in the girl's demeanor stifled his curiosity. "Who are you? What's happening?" Venn couldn't help but ask.

Venn, caught in the midst of this surreal escape, decided to trust the masked girl. As she vanished momentarily, presumably to retrieve something crucial, Venn's senses heightened. The once-stable reality now crumbled and collapsed, an impending chaos that urged him to make a swift decision.

Taking a deep breath, Venn sprinted toward the glowing panel he had entered through, the thudding of his heart in sync with the unraveling uncertainty that surrounded him.

The fractured reality unraveling around them, Stella sprinted back with purpose, snatching up a deck of cards laying just close to the disintegrating floor in front of her. She retraced her steps with a determined sprint back to the glass panel, where Venn anxiously awaited.

Venn, now back in the familiar parking lot, watched in suspense as Stella raced toward the glass panel. The ground crumbled beneath her running steps, a cascade of fracturing reality following her. Panic gripped Venn, his shouts urging her to quicken her escape.

With every fleeting moment, the collapsing ground closed the distance. Stella, just a breath away from safety, pushed her limits. Venn, a shaken spectator to the impending calamity, felt a surge of desperation. "Jump!!!" he screamed, his outstretched arm a lifeline in the chaos.

As Stella leaped, the ground beneath her surrendered to the void. In that suspended moment, time hung heavy. Venn, muscles tense with anticipation, locked eyes with Stella, their connection bridging the crumbling expanse. She extended her arm, a silent plea for salvation, a desperate bid to escape the relentless collapse.

Time seemed to elongate as Stella descended, the realization of their failing reach carved across both their faces. Stella's fingertips grazed the edges of Venn's outstretched hand, a fleeting touch that emphasized the cruel brevity of their connection. Their eyes widened in tandem, reflecting the shared realization that the grasp, though desperate and fervent, was not enough.