Chapter 32 – Monsters From Beyond
"And what's this problem exactly?" Zane asked, tilting his head with a trace of curiosity. He had expected something like this to come up. Nothing in this world—or any other, for that matter—came without a price.
Fiora leaned back in her chair, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Hmm, I can't tell you the specifics now. But once I see that you're ready, I'll call in that favor. I sure hope you don't turn me down when you're a big star."
"A star?" Zane scoffed, lifting his cup. "Yeah, that isn't happening. I'd rather keep my peace intact, thanks."
Fiora chuckled, resting her chin on her hand. "And how exactly are you planning to stay hidden with that kind of power? Sooner or later, people are going to notice. Potential like yours doesn't just lie dormant without catching some eyes."
"I have my own ways," Zane said, his tone vague, but firm. His gaze didn't waver.
He didn't elaborate, and he didn't need to. The system—silent, invisible, and exclusive to him—was his greatest edge. No one could see it, detect it, or even suspect it unless he opened his mouth. As long as he kept his cards close to his chest, the mystery would remain intact.
Fiora studied him for a moment longer, trying to peel away the layers in his expression. He wasn't smug or arrogant, just… composed. Confident. There was something else behind those eyes, something she couldn't decipher.
Eventually, she gave up and took a sip of her coffee.
Silence lingered between them for a moment, not awkward, but thoughtful. Then Zane broke it with a question.
"Oh, right. I meant to ask you about something," he said.
"Hmm?"
"I received a box earlier this morning—my uniform, documents, that kind of stuff."
Fiora's brows lifted. "Already? That's quick. Usually, it takes a day or two. Looks like the admin is finally pulling themselves together."
"Maybe," Zane muttered. "Anyway, one item stood out to me—the necklace. The Lunar Sigil. I was told to wear it before arriving at the station. I wanted to know… why? What does it do exactly?"
Fiora blinked, then let out a small breath. "That's… a good question. You're already digging into the fine details, huh? I like that."
Zane said nothing, just waited.
"Well, it's not easy to explain in layman's terms, but I'll try." She sat upright, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup. "The Lunar Sigil protects both your body and soul during inter-dimensional travel. Without it, most people wouldn't survive the journey. Or at least… not survive as themselves."
Zane frowned. "But I thought dimensional travel was relatively safe? At least, that's what the textbooks implied."
Fiora shook her head slowly. "Not entirely. It can be safe, sure—under certain conditions. But most of the time, it's anything but. The safety of a jump depends on a number of factors: the stability of the portal, the density of dimensional energy in the space between realms, the distance crossed, and your own physical and spiritual resilience."
She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Let me ask you something, Zane. Have you ever wondered where the monsters that invade your world actually come from?"
Zane blinked at the abrupt change of topic. "I mean… isn't that common knowledge? They come from other realms, right? The natural portals that form randomly across all realms allow them to pass through."
Zane had learned about this in school. In every realm, random portals are bound to appear almost daily. These portals have no origin, and the mystery around them was still present to that day. However, what people know is that monsters invade from these portals into Lower Earth.
Fiora nodded. "That's the surface-level truth. The one that's taught to civilians and even most cadets. It's not wrong, per se—but it's not the whole truth either."
Zane stared at her, sensing something heavier behind her words.
"The truth," Fiora continued, "is that only about thirty percent of monster invasions happen through those naturally occurring portals."
"Huh? Only 30%?" Zane blurted out, then realizing that his voice was a bit higher than usual so he lowered it down again. "Then, then, where does the rest come from?"
"The real issue… is the side effect of inter-dimensional travel."
"Side effect?" Zane echoed, eyes narrowing.
"Exactly," she said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "When someone crosses into another dimension without proper protection—like the Lunar Sigil—their body gets exposed to a raw, unstable form of Dimensional Energy. It's not just some theoretical force… it's alive in a way. Ever-shifting. Toxic and extremely hostile."
Zane's blood ran a little colder. "What happens if they're exposed?"
Fiora gave him a look that said she'd seen it herself.
"The energy begins to erode them—first physically, then mentally. It changes their cells, their DNA, their very essence. It rewrites them into something else. Their bodies mutate into grotesque forms, and their minds… shatter. What's left is no longer a person."
A silence fell.
Zane sat back slowly, piecing it all together. "So… most of the monsters we fight aren't actually born monsters. They were once…"
"People," Fiora finished for him. "Creatures—beings—who either tried to cross dimensions without protection, or were dragged into it unwillingly. Curiosity, desperation, or even ignorance… it doesn't matter. The result is the same."
Zane's throat tightened.
That truth was… brutal.
"I…" he hesitated. "I used to think monsters were just evil. Mindless beasts that existed to destroy. I even used to imagine myself slaughtering them all someday. But now…"
Fiora watched him quietly.
"Now it feels like I've been looking at it all wrong," he said, eyes lowered. "Like I was being fed a convenient lie."
Fiora didn't argue. She just took another sip of her coffee.
"It's a harsh truth," she said finally. "And one you're not alone in learning. I remember when I found out. I threw up. Couldn't sleep for days."
Zane looked up at her. For the first time, she didn't seem like the confident warrior she always appeared to be. There was a shadow behind her gaze, the echo of things she had seen—and done.
"But," she continued, "you learn to compartmentalize. To make peace with the fact that the things we fight… used to be people. Because at some point, you'll be faced with a choice—kill the monster in front of you, or let innocent blood be spilled."
She leaned closer, eyes sharp. "You choose the first. Every single time."
Zane didn't respond. He didn't need to. She could already see the conflict storming inside his mind.
"This job isn't about being a hero, Zane. Most people come in thinking they're about to save the world. That they'll wear capes and bask in applause." She chuckled bitterly. "But give it a week, and the smell of blood clings to you. The noise of screams follows you into your dreams. Then, you start looking at it more like your nightmare rather than your salvation."
Fiora's smile faded completely.
"We're not heroes. We're not saviors. We're just killers with fancy titles and clean uniforms."
Zane met her gaze. There was no warmth in her eyes now—only cold steel, and a past bathed in red. He realized, in that quiet space between them, that Fiora was not a shining beacon of light or hope.
She was a weapon.
A survivor.
A monster-slayer who knew that most monsters used to have names and dreams, and she carried them all with her like a curse.