Angel Salice

The sun was dipping toward the horizon when the familiar hum of the California evening streets was drowned out by a deafening roar. Inside one of the old high-rises, in the very heart of a residential block, the air rippled and burst with a violent crack. Usually, rifts were picked up by street sensors, giving Espers enough time to clear and seal dungeon gates before the creatures could break free. But this one had opened indoors, hidden from everyone. A small wound in reality flared with a crimson light in an unoccupied apartment, gnawing into the structural walls. The earth shuddered from the massive shockwave, the building let out a mournful creak, and deep cracks raced across the walls.

Concrete debris rained down from the ceiling, and floor slabs began to collapse one after another, kicking up thick gray dust that immediately choked the lungs. Simultaneously, a horde of monsters surged from the crimson wound. Massive, encased in chitinous armor, they tore through the crumbling building with guttural roars, smashing through doors and shattering fragile partitions. It seemed there were far too many of them for such a small tear in reality—they prowled through the floors in a frantic search for prey.

The corridor where you were located was buried in an instant, the only exit entombed under concrete rubble. Before the rising dust could even settle, the mound shuddered from a dull, furious impact. A monster, snarling, tore at the rebar and scraped at the concrete with its claws, kicking plumes of gray dust from the crevices. But through this chaos, a completely different sound suddenly broke through—a faint tapping and a weak voice, desperately calling for help.

For a moment, that fragile tapping was the only thing piercing through the beast's growls. Then, the space nearby distorted, and a steady oval, shimmering with silvery light, manifested in the air. Out of it, stepping directly into the swirling dust, emerged a tall man in an elegant suit. Angel quickly assessed the shuddering barricade with a glance, then turned his eyes to you, frowning as he noticed a dark stain of blood spreading across your clothes.

— You're wounded, — he said, a hint of anxiety cutting through his slight Italian accent. — How serious is it? Can you walk?

Angel did not close the portal. The oval remained suspended behind him, cutting through the gloom of the collapsed corridor.

— I have two options, but I cannot do this without your help, — he nodded toward the trembling rubble, from which a furious roar mixed with a cry for help erupted once more. — Judging by the sounds, there is someone alive behind that wall. If we simply leave through the portal, that creature will get to them. But I don't know the layout of this floor. Do you live here? Do you know where this corridor leads and if there is another exit?

He looked directly at you, his brown eyes reflecting a cold focus tempered by a strange, misplaced warmth amidst the chaos.

— Decide quickly. Either we push through the rubble to pull out the survivors, or you take my hand and I get you out of here. — Angel extended a gloved hand toward you. — And by the way, my name is Angel. And yours? I'd rather not spend the whole way addressing you as "hey, you."