Lost Venice

As the son of the god of the dead, Shirei's life had been a constant struggle ever since he had awakened on the shores of the Uchia. Even that day, Fate demanded that he fight to stay alive.

The sea he had dived into, now transformed into a furious vortex, dragged him toward the entrance of the portal, which pulsed like a restless heart in the depths.

The icy grip of the water enveloped him, piercing his bones like blades of ice. The cold made him shudder, an uncontrollable tremor ran down his spine as the oxygen seemed to vanish from his lungs, replaced by a sense of crushing pressure. His ears began to ring, a sharp, unbearable sound that grew with every meter of depth, accompanied by a dull pain in his skull.

The descent was a chaos of raging currents that slammed him from side to side, as if the portal itself were testing his endurance. The Blendbreed fought back, determined to maintain control. His vision was constantly flooded by the water trying to claim his life.

I must not lose my composure, this was the only way to avoid the fight.

Soon, the sea gave way to mana. He felt an instant change: the oppressive pressure vanished, along with the cold that had devoured his limbs. The sensation of liquid against his skin was replaced by a warmth, almost familiar, that seemed to flow through his very nerves. He was at the entrance of the Temporal Rift.

He couldn't know which world he was about to reach, but he suspected that the humanoid creature had wanted to push him toward the portal on purpose.

So… I played their game and threw myself into the trap.

He was curious to discover what awaited him on the other side.

At the hospital I encountered that mysterious entity. I wonder if I'll find another one here, he said to himself. If that's the case, then it makes sense to think they're following me.

When he emerged from the portal, he found himself soaked, and couldn't help but wrap his arms around his body to keep from falling victim to the cold-induced tremors. Fortunately, the sun, high in the sky, beat down strongly upon his head. He looked up and immediately felt relief at the warmth on his skin, a sign that he wouldn't need to worry for long and that he would soon be dry.

Then he paused to take in his surroundings, realizing he was in a world steeped in a sense of familiarity.

I've been to this place before.

Looking around, he recognized the city from the rare images glimpsed in books at Lilies Park, one of the few times he had had the chance to consult them.

The water in the canals shimmered under a golden, flickering light, while gondolas glided silently past buildings of marble and stone. On the palaces, elegant arches and Gothic-style details blended with decorations and symbols—intertwined figures of mythological beings and carved animals. Despite its grandeur, there was something unsettling about the city: a suspended silence, as if its inhabitants were not fully in control of themselves, waiting for something.

In the distance, he noticed that a part of the district was still under construction. Scaffolding and frameworks covered entire buildings, and the dull sound of hammering spread through the air, clashing with the mysterious atmosphere of the rest of the surroundings.

The violet-eyed boy turned back to look at the canals branching in every direction, and at the gondolas gliding over the clear water's surface.

Venice. I'm in Venice.

He paused for a moment, taking a breath and making sure no water had entered his lungs. He needed to organize his thoughts before moving on. Standing there—still and alone—in open light didn't seem like a brilliant idea.

So this is the third Rift, he thought, observing the empty streets and the motionless sky above him.

Suddenly, he sensed a presence at his side, one that had materialized in the form of a specter.

"Reno," Shirei murmured, turning toward the shadowy creature.

"Boss. Okay, what now?" it asked, having just appeared beside him.

"For now, stay alert. Let me know immediately if you notice anything strange."

The former son of Aor, always ready to defuse tension, nodded with a sly smile. "That much is obvious! This place looks nice enough, but I doubt it's free of surprises…"

Then, his expression grew more serious, as if recognizing the gravity of the moment. With a nod, the Blendbreed allowed him to dissolve into nothingness. The Tenebrae returned to the Interworld, ready to watch and warn him in case of danger.

The reason for that decision, however, was something else. Since one could never be too cautious—especially in that kind of situation—relying on the Tenebrae might have jeopardized his secret identity and revealed his presence to any enemies that might be lurking nearby.

I'm still weak. If I were ambushed, I'm not sure I'd make it out in this state. Better not take the risk.

He began walking cautiously along the narrow, winding streets of the Renaissance city. The overhanging structures cast deep shadows on the streets below, creating zones of irregular light and darkness across the alleys like blades. He observed every detail closely, searching for clues about this place that felt suspended in time.

He noticed that despite the apparent realism, there were elements that didn't quite align with reality: carved figures that seemed to watch him, reflections in the water that didn't respond to his movements.

This place is crawling with monsters. They're everywhere.

Continuing on, he turned a corner into a narrow street and ended up in an open square surrounded by towering buildings. He had been wandering for over an hour, and the scorching sun was beginning to dry his clothes. Regardless of that small comfort, he would soon need to find a change of clothes—something less conspicuous than what he currently wore.

He crossed the square halfway, but as he attempted to move beyond it, the unexpected happened: even though his steps continued forward, the scene shifted without warning. He suddenly found himself thrown onto another street—identical to the one he had started from—overwhelmed by a deep sense of disorientation.

He turned to look behind him, but there was no doubt.

I'm back at the beginning.

Surprised, he wondered if it had been a reset of the Rift—yet that kind of time lapse would make his mission impossible.

An hour repeated endlessly… this will slow down my search.

Another anomaly caught his attention as he tried to decide what to do next. His clothes hadn't returned to being soaked, and the place where he had reappeared didn't seem exactly identical. The sun, too, appeared to have shifted toward twilight.

It's not a reset, but something else.

He began walking in another direction in search of an explanation, but the same scene repeated itself: each time he reached the edge of the city, he was pulled back, as if trapped in a time loop.

"A loop…" he murmured to himself. "This Rift is enclosed, like a prison. There's a boundary, and once I cross it, I'm brought right back here."

He narrowed his eyes as he considered the implications. It meant that, at some point, the events would reset, returning everything to an initial state—but he could use every moment to construct a map of the area.

If I managed to cross it completely in an hour, that means it's at least five kilometers across.

He began walking in the opposite direction from the boundary and turned a corner, evaluating whether his calculations could be considered reliable. He had assumed the Rift was roughly rectangular, but had no certainty. Most likely, it could be more like a dome with a circular base, which would make mapping the Rift more difficult.

He started to wonder how much time was left before the reset would occur. I have to understand what's happening and find the anchor.

With a steady but swift pace, he moved through the city's streets. The sound of his shoes brushing the cobblestones made the Blendbreed notice the silence all around. He imagined what that place might look like at dusk, with the moon's soft light reflecting on the rippling surfaces of the canals.

The air was thick—a mix of salt, mold, and something more acrid that he couldn't quite identify. He felt watched, but when he turned, he saw only closed windows. No sound, except for the distant voices of gondoliers breaking the silence.

After a few minutes, he reached a small stone bridge arching over a narrow, dark canal. He stopped, resting a hand on the cold, smooth railing, and looked down at the water beneath him. The surface of the canal trembled faintly, like a sheet of liquid glass ready to shatter. That's when he saw it: a reflected figure, with long blonde hair that seemed to glow with its own light.

The son of Cragar tensed involuntarily. The person wasn't behind him—there was no one else on the bridge. And yet, the reflection seemed real. The woman's face was blurred, almost impossible to distinguish, but the long, wavy blond hair reminded him of something. A voice deep in his mind whispered a warning.

It was a glimpse into his forgotten past, appearing without warning, yet he couldn't understand why it had surfaced at that very moment.

He leaned forward, eyes fixed on the water, his violet pupils seeming to pulse. The air grew colder. A shiver ran down his spine, but he couldn't look away. It was as if the figure in the water was calling to him, pulling him closer with an invisible force. Then he saw it change, shift into a different form, its features distorting into a monstrous face.

It's just a monster trying to deceive me, he realized, disappointed.

He stepped back, ready to summon the Blade of Discord if necessary, but another sound drew his attention. Shuffling footsteps echoed from the alleys behind him. The Blendbreed spun around, senses heightened, splitting his focus between the mysterious creature and the approaching threat to avoid being caught off guard on either front.

He was surrounded by a group of rough-looking men who had emerged from the shadows of side streets like rats in search of a meal. There were five in total, their faces marked with scars and their clothes worn and filthy. Their hands were calloused and stained, and their rotting yellow teeth showed as they grinned at one another, already savoring what they thought would be an easy target.

One of them, more muscular than the rest, stepped forward with a raspy laugh.

"Oh, what do we have here? A lonely foreigner wandering the city. Look at that haughty stride, boys—as if Venice belonged to him."

Shirei remained impassive. He wasn't concerned: he knew he could obliterate ordinary mortals with ease if needed, but the memory of what he had done to the nurses at the Colorno hospital made him hesitate.

Stay calm. Conflict isn't the solution—not with five unarmed men.

Besides, he had no idea how much time was left before the reset, and wasting it on something like this was not an option.

The men moved closer.

He felt the familiar presence of his Blade of Discord, waiting for a single gesture to rise from the Interworld and be wielded. However, before he could move, a figure suddenly burst onto the scene.

A thin man with messy hair and an eccentric air approached the muggers with confident steps. He wore a light-colored outfit—a loose shirt, dark brown pants, and worn boots. A crumpled hat shaded part of his face. His eyes were elusive but gleamed with a strange intensity. He stopped just a few steps from the thugs and, with a sudden motion, struck one of them on the shoulder, making him stagger.

The attackers stared at him for a moment, surprised, then burst into laughter.

"Look who it is! Niccolò, the nutcase!" one of them sneered, shoving him back. "Come to protect a foreigner, have you? You can't even protect yourself."

In a flash, the man drew a large knife and swung it at Niccolò, who ducked instantly, avoiding the blade but catching a full-force kick to the stomach.

"Pathetic, Niccolò. What will your parents think when we ask for payment for finding you?"

But the young man did not let himself be intimidated. He was ready to respond, despite the grimace of fear crossing his face. Shirei bent his knees, ready to intervene. After a moment of silence, the boy raised his index finger and pointed his trembling hand behind them.

"Are you sure you want to stay here, sirs?" he asked, feigning a smile. "There's… there's a monster right behind you!"

The muggers exchanged a skeptical look, then burst into louder laughter. "A monster? Funny, Niccolò. You must've lost the Lord's path, no doubt about it!"

"Oh, sure, probably the usual passing specter, right, Verardi?" mocked another, trying to shove him aside, unsuccessfully.

Shirei, who had kept his gaze fixed beyond the backs of the thugs, realized he wasn't joking. Behind them, just a few meters from the edge of the canal, a dark shadow was rising from the water. It was a creature with a terrifying appearance, with slick, grayish skin dripping as it emerged from the surface. It had two sunken red eyes, lidless, glowing with an unnatural intensity. Its mouth was a wide opening rimmed with razor-sharp teeth. Long claws protruded from its hands, scratching the stones as it dragged itself out of the water, emitting a guttural, deep sound. It had long, wavy blonde hair, but the most distinctive feature was a very slender body that widened toward the abdomen, where a horizontal, scarred cut marked its flesh.

The reflection from before. It's the monster that tried to deceive me.

In an instant, he lunged forward. The Blade of Discord appeared in his hands, and with a single precise motion, he pierced the monster before it could sink its claws into one of the muggers. The creature let out a single moaning cry, then fell backward into the canal and sank.

Niccolò stood open-mouthed, staring at the Blendbreed with violet eyes in a mix of awe and admiration, as if witnessing a vision. He couldn't believe someone existed who didn't take him for a lunatic—let alone a man who could see what he saw. After a few seconds, the surprise gave way to a wide smile, an invitation hidden beneath his bewildered expression.

The attackers, who just moments before had looked ready to pounce on him like a pack of starving wolves, froze as they saw the lifeless body of the creature fall into the canal. Their eyes remained fixed on the hand holding the Blade of Discord.

Their leader was the first to falter, swallowing loudly as the color drained from his face. "Not worth it…" he muttered, signaling the others to back off.

Niccolò stood up and shouted after them at the top of his lungs. "Well? Don't you want to attack? Are you scared?"

The delinquents withdrew one by one, scurrying off like rats terrified by the light. The last one turned briefly, casting an anxious glance at the young man with violet eyes, then vanished into the darkness.

Shirei let the blade dissolve into nothing with a slight gesture, sending it back to the Interworld. The air seemed to loosen, releasing the tension it had held just moments before. Only then did he turn toward the unknown boy. His eyes were wide with wonder, and his tousled dark hair fell across his forehead. He approached with hesitant steps, yet his face bore an expression of sincere admiration.

"You can see them too, sir!" he exclaimed, breathless and excited. "You saw the Anguana?"

Shirei did not answer immediately, remaining as still as a statue.

Of course I saw the monster… and they did as well, I think they did at least.

His probing eyes studied the speaker, weighing what to say. The boy, seized by sudden reverent fear, took two steps back.

"Forgive me!" he said in a more subdued voice, lowering his head in respect. "It seems my parents did not teach me proper manners after all."

Then he bent in a deep bow, his torso leaning forward with near-ceremonial precision. "My name is Niccolò Verardi, humble student of politics, son of modest Venetian folk."

He waited for Shirei to respond, remaining in position with his torso still inclined. Only when the Blendbreed made a slight movement did he lift his gaze, watching him with a mix of curiosity and deference.

The son of Cragar understood the need to keep a low profile, aware that drawing too much attention could prove a mistake. He decided to act as a foreign traveler.

"Pleasure to meet you, Niccolò," he said calmly, inclining his head slightly in return. "My name is Shirei. Just Shirei. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The young man smiled enthusiastically, visibly relieved. He followed Shirei's every movement with attentive eyes, as if observing a living icon. Shirei, meanwhile, started walking again with the ease of someone trying to remain unnoticed, though deep down, he knew this meeting would not end so quickly.

"Shirei… a name I've never heard, you're a stranger, aren't you? I didn't think I'd find someone… someone like me, in this place," said Niccolò nervously, stepping forward and attempting to shake the Blendbreed's hand.

Shirei sidestepped, causing the eccentric youth to nearly trip and fall flat on his face. The other lowered his head, realizing he had been too forward, and respectfully stepped back again.

"Forgive me, my excitement got the better of my sense. I was wondering, if you don't have more pressing matters… would you care to come to my tavern? It's not much—modest, really—but at least there's a roof over our heads… and perhaps a drink."

Shirei watched him, maintaining his usual impassive expression. He was weighing the offer carefully, wary of falling victim to yet another deception. Niccolò was an unusual figure, but Shirei sensed there was something genuine beneath his eccentricity. Moreover, the chance to gather information from a city local was a valuable opportunity.

He nodded. "Very well. Lead the way."