Ian's Purge

Walter roared at the top of his lungs.

"No!"

His body was shrinking, his consciousness was blurring, his very existence was being compressed.

He saw Layton flying toward that vortex too. He saw his son's face, full of terror. He saw his son open his mouth, trying to shout something, but no sound could get out anymore.

Then everything sank into darkness.

The wasteland fell silent. The vortex vanished, and Ian's right hand dropped to his side. He stood where he was, looking down at the spot at the bottom of the pit where the two men had disappeared, looking at the golden bloodstains left on the shattered rocks. Wind blew in from the distance, stirring up dust that slowly covered the blood.

The little Xenomorph ran out from behind a distant rock, jumped onto Ian's shoulder, rubbed its head against his face, and let out a hissing sound. Little Dragon also flew over and landed on his other shoulder, folding its wings and mewling a few times. The two little things seemed to have no particular reaction to what had just happened—

In their eyes, anything Ian did was normal.

Ian stroked their heads, then lifted his own and looked toward the distant horizon. There, the city lights were coming on one by one, as if someone had scattered a handful of crushed diamonds across a black curtain.

Those lights were warm, quiet, and ordinary.

The people living there had no idea that, just a few hundred kilometers away on the wasteland, something had just happened that was enough to change the structure of the entire universe.

"Let's go."

Ian spoke as if talking to himself.

"It's not over yet."

He took off, flying toward the city.

The city had already returned to the clamor of night. Traffic streamed