“These marks represent all the locations where people have disappeared recently,” I explained, pointing at the red X's scattered across the city map. "And lately, I’ve caught glimpses of something moving within the fog. It's not just taking people; something might be coming out."

“Creatures? Monsters, maybe?” Alexandra wondered aloud, her eyes darting anxiously toward the rainy street outside. “We already know undead roam in some areas. Why not something worse from this strange fog?”

I gently squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “Exactly. At least now we know there’s something out there. Most people in the central districts ignore it, and the elites at the top probably don't even care—but we do.”

We all sat in heavy silence for a moment. Leaving the city was an option, yet none of us truly wanted it. Some unknown force compelled us to stay and confront whatever was happening.

Jack sighed, crossing his arms. “Well, the choice is pretty simple—either we wait and watch until something comes out, or we go into the fog ourselves.”

But we all knew it wasn’t that simple.

“It isn’t,” we replied in unison, prompting a collective, tense laugh.

“Alright then,” I continued, breaking the tension, “who’s willing to enter the fog first?” I raised my hand confidently.

Everyone stared at me as if I'd lost my mind, but after exchanging thoughtful glances, they began to consider the idea seriously.

“Have any of you noticed something else?” Solomon finally spoke up. “No one's entered the city lately. Merchants, travelers—none of them. It's as if something or someone is preventing new arrivals."

Jack looked confused, prompting Malcolm to nod gravely. "He's right. Zee told me he hasn't seen any activity through the underground routes—no merchants, no clients, not even rats."

I shivered at the memory. "Don’t mention rats. I saw some creepy things down there.”

Alexandra seemed deep in thought before declaring firmly, “I’m willing to go into the fog. If other cities are facing this too, running won't solve anything. We need answers.”

Jack glanced at Malcolm, who shrugged casually. Their hands rose together, signaling their readiness. Solomon gave Ana a worried glance, but she responded with a determined nod. Our decision was unanimous.

We quickly gathered and reviewed our supplies, preparing for any eventuality.

Malcolm unveiled a curious item—a magical Illusion Umbrella. "It can hide us by creating realistic images, like trash cans or crates," he explained proudly.

Solomon grinned knowingly when he saw me eyeing his dimensional bag. “Don’t look so jealous. Here, take this.” He tossed me a sleek black leather overcoat. “It has a dimensional pocket. I traded for it with Zee; you can keep your weapons handy in it.”

I eagerly stashed my pistols and ammunition inside. “I think I’ll call this pistol Lance for now,” I joked, holstering it neatly.

“Need a sheath for that blade?” Jack asked, already throwing me a thigh strap that fit perfectly.

Solomon donned his heavy armor openly now, no longer concerned about blending in. Jack relaxed with a drink, and Malcolm cheerfully joined him.

Alexandra disappeared briefly, returning with an armful of jackets, hats, and overcoats. She and Ana quickly adopted new looks, excitedly laughing as they matched styles.

“Hey Malcolm,” I turned to him suddenly, "got one of those Eternal Flame Lanterns?"

He searched through his belongings before handing me an ornate lantern. “This isn’t eternal without a magic crystal, but it’ll last a while. Rub your finger along the base to ignite or adjust the flame—just don’t overload it."

I practiced igniting it until the action felt second-nature, appreciating its warmth and utility.

As our preparations came together, we all felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. The path ahead was uncertain, but for now, we stood united, ready to face whatever the fog held.

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“There is something else about the city I need to tell you all about” My words trailed off and a bad habit of fidgeting with my lighter sounded out from beneath the table where I had my hands. The lighter was a Limco brand. Rare. A slide section along where the flint rolled was located allowed an easy access to replace the flint. There was a sliding wind shield that would reveal precisely drilled holes along where the flame-out would be like a shell. From below, the actual body of the lighter section, connected to the flame could be pulled out and set on a table as an almost lighter lamp of sorts. A candle to illuminate the dark.

Alexandra patted my arm, “You’re going over things in your head again, what were you saying?”

My fidgeting stopped, my ritualistic thoughts fading slightly, I let loose a sigh and lit a cigarette.

“In this city…beneath this city…is things darker than most would know. Within the underground sections where you find the old city are things that have existed for a long time. They might have been there before the previous city, or came from a result of whatever cataclysm claimed that previous place. I don’t know and nothing in this city points to one right answer or another but there are signs.”

I let the silence in the room hang for a while. The random pts pts pat pat of the rain outside evening out my thoughts more. You weren’t supposed to talk about knowledge like I had. It was needed though incase whatever was happening around us now was a result of something from down there.

Jack swirled a cup of coffee in his hand and seemed lost in thought from his blank gaze, “Sometimes in the underground beyond the areas where they have bordered off the underground section they claimed for the fighting rings…there are sounds”

Malcolm rung his hands, “I may have went 10 or so feet beyond those once or twice…”

Solomon looked among them confused but his expression was given no answers to fill him in.

I decided to be that answer, “When you travel through the sewers you will find entrances sometimes. Sections of walls that with the right tap open up spaces, if its new, someone carved out a piece for themselves. That’s one thing. The other is that you will come across open sections that weren’t there before. One’s that show no signs of having been dug or stones and earth moved. As if it was always that way.”

The silence was palpable.

“They lead to the old city. The places beneath. Sometimes it appears as a set of stairs and sometimes hallways or tunnels but it all leads beneath, deeper into the earth. One rule is to ignore those entrances no matter what calls out from the dark. Leave it there, tell others, and sometime later it just isn’t anymore. There are rules, rules that tell you when to not pay attention and how to react to things you come across. I almost wonder if this fog is something that happens every once in a while from down there. Regardless of what happens: if we ever end up needing to travel down there I need you all to listen to me. That’s what I think I can say for now. If those appear for whatever reason on the surface do not enter them."

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“Ready?” Solomon’s gaze moved slowly across each of us, finally settling on me. One by one, we nodded, each reflecting our resolve in our own way. We stood together, a team united by circumstances and choice.

Alexandra approached me with that familiar smirk, her one-sided grin promising readiness and sarcastic retorts for whatever lay ahead.

“Leave a note for your dad,” I told her gently, “Tell him to go to the underground. Malcolm, do you think Zee would mind an extra guest? If things go south, Zee gains a pyromancer—not a bad deal for a forge master.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, then nodded. “Yeah, he’d be fine with it.” He and Alexandra quickly composed a detailed letter, outlining the safest route to Zee’s place, complete with Malcolm’s personal signature and the password to ensure safe entry, should Zee be absent or compromised.

With preparations complete, we shared a collective breath, then stepped out into the night. Alexandra locked the café door behind us, her hand lingering momentarily on the handle before she turned decisively to follow.

Nightfall had claimed the streets, quieting the usual hustle and bustle of the city. Most had retreated to their homes, wary and anxious. Whispers about the fog had grown scarce, replaced by tense silence and cautious glances toward the encroaching threat. Even without Solomon and Jack’s keen senses, I could feel it too—a looming tension, as if something dangerous awaited us just beyond sight.

Above, thick layers of rain mingled with dense clouds, obscuring the lights that typically illuminated the middle sections of the city. Shadows pooled around us, the streets slick and reflective. Those living in the higher sections seemed increasingly uneasy, their gazes drawn downward, apprehensive of what might be stirring in the fog below.

Each step carried us deeper into uncertainty, the relentless patter of rain our constant companion. The atmosphere hung heavy with anticipation, as though we were walking toward an inevitable confrontation.

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Just several 10’s of blocks away from the shop was when we first began to see the lineage of the city take flight. It started with someone setting a trashcan on fire and kicking it into a shop before a full blown riot formed towards the central districts of the city. Merchants and their body guards began to cut down people coming after their loot, the last of the merchants still willing to stay here it seemed.

Screaming let loose after the first person was cut down, a fat merchant with rolls for a chin was grabbing up gold from the ground that had spilled out when he was attacked. The crowd of poor denizens pushed from the outer district looked at the well attired man for no more than a second before mob mentality overcame them and the guards scattered to leave him defenseless.

A lot, and I mean a hell of a fucking lot, of anger was being let loose from those that had let it pent up within through years of discrimination. I could see people from the slums of the far western part of the city intermingled amongst the mobs that began to grow more and more.

It was horrifying to see your world turned upside down.

“Run! The mages are coming!”

‘What?’ My body whipped to the word mages and I spun on my heels, faster than the rest of the group beside me. I was the first to glance upon one of the major powers, besieging another group right in the middle of the street not far from us.

“Chillus Frost, of the Frost family of the northern district…age 25 years old, ice cold iceberg blue hair. Water affinity mind vessel, cold aura and moisture manipulation inherent to their clans unique arts…” I noted off the first bit of information I had on hand that I had payed an information broker several months back to give me. Staying up on the politics and information of the city was a must for me, but it also told me one thing.

A war was beginning between the rival families and they were abusing an odd circumstance of the city to make it happen, and the current pressurized boiler of a city that was the current happenstance going on right now was the perfect situation to drive that war forward.

Alexandra grabbed my shoulder, “What?”

“His name is Chillus Frost, a dumb ass name, and we need to get the absolute fuck out of here right now. I knew this would happen I knew it…” I motioned to the group and one by one they shook their heads at the group of mage users splashing ice everywhere. Soon the organization they were going up against ‘The Ignatius’ family, let loose flames and molten earth from the windows of the building and collided with them.

The world, and power order, we had known before would change even if the fog disappeared tomorrow.

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“Mommy, why didn't uncle Tom show up for dinner tonight?” A small child, wearing slightly ragged clothes, looked up at his mother as they cautiously navigated the dimly lit backstreets to their apartment. Her eyes anxiously scanned every shadow, searching for any sign of the dreaded grey mist rumored to bring death. She hadn’t wanted to take this route, but the chaos from the riots had forced her hand.

“Well, since daddy had to go up into the sky to work, uncle Tom probably left the city for an adventure too, just for us! You know how he is, always striving to take care of us,” she smiled, a hollow expression, her gaze darting nervously.

Silence.

She froze, gripping her child's hand tighter.

“Mommy, your hand is hurting me,” the boy whispered, innocence still shining in his wide eyes.

“I'm sorry, honey,” she replied softly, her voice trembling as an eerie stillness enveloped the alley. It was too quiet. No rain, no distant shouting, nothing but the deafening hush of imminent danger. She knew something was terribly wrong but was powerless to stop it.

A sudden cracking noise broke the silence, and a body sprawled violently onto the street ahead, limbs twisted grotesquely. Moments later, a figure slowly emerged from the darkness, pulling itself upright in a distorted, inhuman motion.

“Excuse me, sir?” the woman called hesitantly, desperation overriding her caution. “I seem to have lost my way… could you walk me home?” She tried to appear appealing, hoping to enlist his help, even if he were just some drunkard.

But the man didn't respond. She caught sight of blood mingling with rainwater beneath his stumbling feet. Her eyes widened as she saw his golden-irised eyes staring vacantly, flesh torn from his face, body missing chunks as though devoured.

“Undead,” she whispered in horror, pulling her son protectively behind her.

“Mister, are you okay?” the child called out innocently, stepping forward before his mother could react.

“Don’t go near it!” A commanding voice echoed down the alley behind them, making the mother flinch.

Solomon strode forward with grim resolve, eyes focused and unyielding. “Don’t go home. Don’t look back. Lie or fight your way into the middle section of the city if you have to. Good luck.” With explosive force, he charged forward, his steps creating small bursts of air beneath him, propelling him forward with unnatural speed. His armored gauntlet collided violently with the undead man's skull, shattering it in an instant.

The woman stood frozen, breathless with shock, until a large, burly figure—Jack—grabbed her gently but firmly by the shoulder. He carried both mother and child effortlessly back to the bustling main street before setting them down. Freed from immediate danger, she clutched her child tightly and fled into the crowd.

Jack returned, his voice grave as he approached Solomon, who was still examining the undead corpse. “Others weren't so lucky. I didn't expect the undead to lurk in this fog. People have whispered rumors, but…”

“They aren’t typical undead,” Solomon replied darkly, pointing to the corpse’s wounds. “Something else turned this man, something non-human.”

I knelt beside Solomon, examining the remains closely, drawing on my knowledge from countless books on necromancy and the undead. “Usually, undead are created by disease, curses, or dark magic—never all at once. This one seems neither rabid nor fully controlled by magic. Something else is at play here. Something strong enough to kill and powerful enough to animate corpses like puppets.”

Ana, Alexandra, and Malcolm appeared at the alley’s mouth, the latter gripping a small crossbow nervously. Ahead, the grey mist began to seep into the alley, slowly swallowing shadows, neon lights, and signs into an oppressive nothingness. The fog was unnatural, moving like living smoke.

Without further hesitation, Solomon and I stood side by side at the fog’s edge, steeling ourselves. The rest of the group gathered quickly, tying ropes around each other's waists, forming a protective line with Ana and Alexandra safely in the middle.

“Deep breaths, everyone,” Solomon instructed quietly, his voice firm and reassuring. “Step.”

In perfect unison, we stepped forward into the unknown. The sounds of our footsteps echoed briefly through the alley before silence once more reclaimed the space, leaving no trace of our passage as the mist swallowed us whole.

Everyone, especially including myself, looked around the fog surrounding us and the obscure shapes coming into view. We seemed to have passed a barrier, because the fog seemed to clear quite a bit but where shadows should be it was instead fog and grey. Strange.

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The cobblestones beneath our feet were grimy, slick with moisture and filth. Yet somehow, I decided in the back of my mind, this wasn’t so bad. No fire raining from the skies, no ruptured earth, no howls of tortured demons—just a deafening silence.

“You hear that?” Solomon whispered urgently, snapping me from my thoughts. We stood shoulder to shoulder, our senses straining against the oppressive quiet.

Whish-flap, whish-flap.

“Wings?” I muttered, squinting uselessly into the thick fog. Something was definitely approaching us.

“Everyone to the side!” Solomon commanded, swiftly guiding us toward a nearby wall. My hand brushed against cold stone as we pressed tightly together in the shadows. Ana huddled behind Solomon, while Alexandra stood close to me, a small ember dancing nervously in her palm.

A croaking voice sliced through the fog, strange and off-kilter. “Hello…”

Jack, positioned farthest from us, risked a response. “Hello?”

A diminutive imp-like creature emerged, hovering at eye level. It had a hooked nose and gleaming red eyes, its body barely two feet tall.

“What the hell...?” Malcolm muttered, clearly echoing everyone's confusion.

“Imp demon?” I questioned aloud, more curious than fearful.

The imp rolled its eyes, irritated. “Why do people always…ugh, fuck you too.” With a casual wave of its hand, its form shifted dramatically into that of a human teenager, distinguished only by glowing red irises that illuminated the surrounding fog. “Welcome to a dark game of the gods! A trial of the gods”

“A dark game?” I pressed, recalling its strange greeting.

“Yes—metaphorically speaking,” it said with an eerie smirk. “You probably came here hoping to be heroes or uncover some truth. Well, you’re mistaken. Gods are playing a game now, and mortals are the pieces. Powers, technology, fate—it's all part of it.”

I managed a calm smile, masking my nerves, and offered a cigarette. “Hey, sorry for the rough greeting. You smoke?”

The imp eyed me suspiciously. “A human offering me—a beast—a smoke?” The demonic teenager tongue flitted around its mouth like a mad villain.

“Yeah, why not?” I lit one myself, demonstrating harmlessness, and gestured to an open shop door. My companions hesitantly followed me inside, sensing my feigned confidence. Thankfully, the fog halted at the entrance, seeping away harmlessly.

Inside, I tossed another cigarette to the imp, who deftly caught it, lit it with a snap of his flaming fingertip, and inhaled appreciatively. “Alright,” it grinned, relaxing visibly, “you have my attention. I'm a guide—an information hub. Ask away.”

“What is the fog?” I asked directly, taking a seat.

“The fog is like a border between worlds,” it explained, inhaling again. “It displaces you into another reality—like layers you can't normally perceive. Once you pass through, there’s no returning. You're stuck playing the gods’ little game. Interesting taste…” He eyed the cigarette curiously.

“So it’s a dimensional gate?” Solomon clarified.

“Precisely. And if the fog couldn't directly take someone, it unleashed undead and horrors upon them.” The imp's gaze darkened briefly.

“How do we leave the fog, and what's waiting outside?” I asked, cutting straight to practical concerns. Undead and horrors, I’d have to broach that subject soon. Were they from the old city? The rest of the world?

“You just survive. The fog itself doesn’t fade once you pass the trials within it. Outside, a new world awaits within it—quests, temples of gods, merchants, power, creatures. It’s a grand, dangerous game, with rewards and terrible costs.”

“What kind of rewards?” Alexandra asked cautiously.

“Powers, artifacts, skills—things that can be passed down or lost. Survive long enough, gather enough strength, and some say you might be granted a wish. Become a god, rewrite the world, or even reset everything.”

Realization struck hard. “Our powers…they originated from previous players?” I asked, horrified.

Solomon’s eyes widened in understanding. “It makes sense…if powers and magic affinity can be inherited, then previous survivors must’ve passed them down. And the reason nobody spoke of it is likely because they weren't allowed.”

The imp nodded solemnly. “Correct. Those artifacts humans treasure are nothing more than the remnants of dead players. You humans have affinities for the elements, vessels of the mind…the body…and the spirit” The Imp teen looked directly at me when he said that and I frowned. He must have the ability to sense peoples vessel types. Interesting.

I glanced at my lantern, suddenly haunted by its warm glow. “How do we specifically get out?”

“Stay alive. This fog is a test, like a tutorial. Only a fraction survive,” it admitted casually. We all heaved a breath. Many were going to die in the city. We went from planned investigation to a preordained planned obsolescence.

Ana shivered, eyes wide. “What's actually in the fog? Where’s the exit?”

“That changes constantly,” the imp said cryptically, crushing his cigarette out. “Explore, expand your map, learn, survive. But I’ll give you one tip—beware the spirit. You cannot fight it, only hide in buildings untouched by fog. It will come for you relentlessly. And whatever you do, stay quiet. They hear everything. It is the first major boss…” The Imps eyes flitted to the window, perceiving something we could not. His mouth muttered something and his eyes twitched. I made to speak and he flinched before standing up quickly and eating the rest of the cigarette I had given him.

With that chilling warning, he slipped out, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving us in tense silence.