"Damn it… Again!"
"Did everyone decide to keep their shop close today?"
"No... someone has to be open. Just keep moving... I've to find it. One store. Just one."
"This isn't for a pill, it's a matter of life and death."
Ezgar, fifteen years old, stood staring at the Closed sign with his piercing blue eyes.
His hair was messy, and his breathing was heavy. Despite the scorching heat, he wore black clothes — drenched in sweat, clinging to his skin. They hadn't even dried yet when he began to run again.
He reached yet another store —
'The Big Medical Store.' His torn shoes halted — and maybe, so did his hope. Or maybe... it died right then and there.
Such a small word, yet so cruel and heartless. Still, he kept staring at the signboard, as if his sharp gaze could melt it, and whatever he needed would somehow appear.
Nothing came out. Nothing except more sweat. A salty taste reached his tongue —"Bleh."
He spat, rolled his eyes on road and spotted a stone. He slammed his foot into it —
all the fury bottled inside that one kick. The stone bounced few times before it completely fell silent
Then he looked at his hands—that black smoke again, like a curse, coiling around his thumbs.
"No. Not yet." He shook his hands violently. That strong force caused the smoke to cowardly hid under his skin.
Once his attention shifted, it soon started to come out.
Only one shop now — the seductress' store.
Just the thought of it made his spine shiver.
That line of hers always echoed in his head —
"Yes, my husband…"
And the hunger in her eyes… He could never forget that.
But when survival is on the line, people are forced to do anything. This was nothing, people even sell themselves. And he was also a human.
And so, he walked. Not running this time—but step by step, slowly… With resolve. With a decision.
"Just two more days… just two more."
"If I can make it to Verge… maybe I'll survive."
Verge — a trial that every child must face upon turning fifteen. A place unknown. A mission only the chosen one understands. No one is told where they'll go, what they'll face, or how they'll be tested. Just single rule—survive. But how long?
For some, it lasts moments. For others, days. And for a cursed few, it stretches across lifetimes.
Terrifying, isn't it? But the reward... the reward is so extraordinary that it can even turn an ordinary human into a god.
Ezgar whispered these words to himself —
maybe to stay sane, maybe just to keep moving, or maybe to drown out the fear growing louder with every step. Step by step, he entered a narrow alley — the one place he had sworn never to return to.
And yet… here he was. His vow, now just another lie. But was a lie really worse than death?
The alley welcomed him with silence.
Deserted.
Dark.
Suffocating — like the black smoke curling around his fingers.
I don't know when it started.
Whether it is a curse, boon or some cruel cosmic joke. All I know is: if I don't get the medicine soon, I would die.
And if I can make it to Verge, maybe there'd be a cure waiting for me there.
But then—his hands flared with pain.
Sharp. Blinding. He cried out — "Aah!"
Is this a new symptom? Another stage of the black smoke? No. No more waiting. This wasn't the time for hesitation. Move. Now. Fast.
The legs kept moving without any stop when they reached their destination—he saw it.
Her store. Lurking in the shadows, like a spider waiting for its prey in web.
But Ezgar didn't care anymore. There was only one thing left in his vision — Life. And maybe… only two days of it.
Now again, that damn signboard.
No. This had to be some kind of sick joke, right? How could she close the store? No… it didn't make sense.
He knew what it meant. Still, he'd hoped—maybe if he showed up, she'd open it.
Something was off. Maybe... maybe he'd just come at the wrong time.
He glanced at his wrist. 10:14 AM.
"Late? It's not even noon!"
Anger began to simmer—then boil. He needed to let it out. So he started kicking the ground. Once… twice… again and again. But nothing changed. Not the ground. Just the way people were now looking at him.
A few minutes later, as the fire inside him dulled, a new thought crept in.
"Should I break in?
What if I get caught?
…But what if I don't?"
He clenched his jaw and made up his mind.
He circled the store, scanning for a hidden door, a side entrance, anything.
Or at least… he checked if someone was watching.
And yes—everyone was watching.
"Look, some guy's losing it this early in the morning."
"Another one twitching before Verge."
"Poor bastard. He won't last two days."
Ezgar wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore. Ashamed? Definitely. But he didn't care. He couldn't.
Then, just beyond the signboard, he spotted it— a small note, taped to the glass.
"At least there's something..."
He stepped forward. Each pace brought the writing into focus—until finally, he could read it:
---
Dear Customer,
As per orders from the Department of Medicine and Drugs, the store will remain closed today.
We apologize for the inconvenience.
→
Huh… an arrow? Where's the apology—or at least a 'sorry' sticker?
Ezgar's eyes followed the direction of the arrow—and then he saw it: a screen mounted on the wall. And there she was.
That same woman.
Her body was unclothed—tastefully concealed behind shimmering text. And she was winking at him. The screen displayed a message:
"Your cure is with me. Come to the address below."
"Damn… not again."
He remembered that day all too well.
Just like every other day, he'd been returning from the medical store next door, carrying his regular dose of Roxynil, when he saw a woman standing outside—her eyes locked on his hand.
She approached him and said,
"Boy, looks like you're about to hit the Verge, huh?"
He was about to walk past her, pretend he hadn't heard—but she stopped him.
Her voice turned even sweeter.
"Don't be so rude. You're looking for Roxynil, right? There's a shop down that alley—you'll get it cheaper there.
And if the shopkeeper likes you… well, you might even get a discount."
And with that, she vanished into the crowd.
At first, he didn't believe her.
But Roxynil was expensive.
It was the only thing that could temporarily suppress the mutation—until full transition into the Verge. Without it, your own body would become your executioner.
And he needed it. Badly. So, he followed her directions. The shop really existed.
He stepped inside.
And that's when he saw her for the first time.
Sitting behind the counter, quietly working.
Glasses rested on her nose.
Long black hair flowing down to her chest.
A face crafted to make hearts surrender.
She wore a crisp white shirt—fitted just enough to trace every curve.
He walked up to her and asked,
"Do you have Roxynil?"
She looked up, smiled, and said,
"Yes… my dear."
That smile—seductive and lethal.
He straightened himself. Tried to play it cool—like a real man.
"How much?"
She replied, still smiling;
"One thousand."
"What? A thousand? What about a discount?"
At that, she leaned forward across the counter,
came closer—
and whispered in his ear:
"Oh, a discount? How about a warm body for a cold dose. Fair trade, no?"
Suddenly, strength drained from his limbs.
A strange weakness gripped him.
If this didn't stop—he wasn't sure he'd live to see the next sunrise.
He backed away in panic, looked around— no one was there.
"Shit… I can't stay here. Who knows what else might happen?"
"Miss… thank you," he mumbled—and ran.
Fled the shop. Left with nothing. Just barely escaped with his life.
And now—there she was again, winking at him from the screen.
"To hell with you… and your medicine."
"I don't want anything from you."
He turned his back on the alley.
"Someone must be selling it illegally.
Someone has to be."
He wandered from street to street,
shop to shop—but everywhere: failure.
Exhausted and defeated,he finally slumped near a shopping plaza, gazing up at the sky.
"What kind of life is this?
Is this how I go out? Empty-handed?"
He laughed bitterly.
What else was left to do?
And then—all the advertising screens went dark.
Every sound—vanished.
Ezgar, seated right beneath one of the massive displays, felt his heart rate spike.
Something stirred within him.
"So… that's how it is."