Krays-

I never thought i would be able to visit above....

I never was alowed to when i was younger it was forbidden for me, while i watched my brothers and sisters walk through the gates to above while i had to stay behind and train....

Was it because i didnt get my horns and wings till i was 6.

"𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘪 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩" i say as i walk through the gate, all i saw was blue and green light untill i was met with a weird sight.... Was that a ball of fire and why dies it burn my eyes when i look at it. "𝘖𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵" i say annoyed as i blink and looked away aggressively rubbing my eyes"𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙.... 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠" says a voice behind me, i turn around to be faced with... Oh my god why does he have different colored skin some of it is white while the rest is fully brown?.... And oh my god why does he look just so..... Hot....

Drew-

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧?.... 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝟏𝟒 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧!

"𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙... 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠" 𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐩... 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐬. "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺" 𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝟔'𝟏 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝟓'𝟑.

"The names krays and who you calling pretty boy im 17 i aint a kid" 𝐨𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭?.... 𝐎𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬.... 𝐎𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞...

Krays-

Oh god this is one hot motherfucker and i mean he is hot and he called me pretty wait is he blushing? Oh god ive been checking him out with out realizing it am i making him uncomfortable "𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.... 𝘐𝘧 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶" i ask worried

Krays-

Ok so i might of just asked a random guy out and im now sitting at this cafe... Should i be worried oh my god im so  glad i studied humans before i came here or i would of been doomed.

And oh god these pancakes are just delicious with some syrup and is that strawberries and blueberries oh my god this is delicious.

"𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘶𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘬𝘬𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳?"i ask drew... Yes i got his name he at first thought i was some kid trying to hit on  him but in the end  i convinced him.

" 𝑜ℎ 𝑢ℎ 𝑦𝑒𝑎ℎ 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠, 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑒𝑤 

𝐴𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒?"he says to me and god why does he look at me like that weve at least met eyes at least 10 times in this cafe. "𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯" i say as  i stuff another pancake into my mouth.

Drew-

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐬, 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤... 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰.

"𝐻𝑒𝑦 𝑢ℎ 𝑖 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡.... 𝐼𝑚 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦" 𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐢 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚 𝟐𝟎 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐲𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

Krays-

Well that went well im now walking down third street towards my house and yes this house was originally use for my father snd sibblings but i get to use it.

I open the door to be met with a lavish house and i mean lavish its floors and walls are lined with gold which im not shocked my mum was addicted to gold  and i mean was shes now dead after she betrayed my dad and tried to murder him in his sleep after drugging him now shes dead and my dads in a coma which he is still in after 29 years.

I walk up to a room with my name on it and god dosent this look fucking sick im met with a king sized bed with gold laced silk sheets with very expensive clothes and curtains, i look around and find a bag that has are they school books? Oh god damn it i forgot i have to go to high school, to be honest this will be very different for me in our schools we get taught how go kill and fly while here we learn how to count numbers and read its weird but no body will know i literally cant read english.

Drew-

I’m still standing outside the café, staring at the door Krays just walked out of. A gold bar. A real gold bar. Who the hell even carries that around like pocket change? What kind of person does that? And why did I agree to this in the first place?

I shake my head and sigh, shoving my hands into my pockets as I start walking. I don’t even know where he’s from, what he does, or why he asked me out. Hell, I don’t even know why I said yes. Maybe it was the way he looked at me—like he knew something I didn’t.

I take a turn down a quieter street, away from the city noise. I need to clear my head.

As I walk, I pull out my phone, hesitating before typing:

"So... what’s with the gold bar?"

I stare at the message. Should I send it? Would that make me seem too interested? Too weirded out?

Before I can decide, my phone buzzes. A new message. From Krays.

"It's just money. Do you want one?"

I stop walking. What the fuck.

Krays-

I throw my phone onto my massive bed, laughing to myself. Drew’s reaction was exactly what I expected. Confusion. A little bit of fear. Maybe even some curiosity.

I take off my jacket and stretch, walking over to the tall windows overlooking the city. It’s weird being here, living in this house that was once filled with my family. It feels... empty.

I run a hand through my hair and glance at the school books on my desk. Ugh. I really don’t want to deal with this. Learning how to read English? Seriously? Back home, I was mastering aerial combat by age seven. Now, I have to sit in a classroom and pretend to care about algebra.

My phone buzzes again. Another message from Drew.

"No, I don’t want one. I just... who even ARE you?"

I smirk. Good question, Drew.

I pick up my phone, typing back:

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

I toss the phone back onto the bed and fall onto the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. Tomorrow’s my first day at school. This is going to be... interesting.

Drew-

I stare at my phone, reading Krays’ response over and over again.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Yeah, no shit, I would. Because nothing about him makes sense. The way he talks, the way he acts like dropping gold bars is normal, the way he asked me out like it was just a casual decision. And now, he’s messing with me.

I should just leave it alone. Pretend I never met him. But of course, I don’t. Instead, I roll my eyes and type back:

"Not really. Just curious why you carry literal treasure around like a wallet."

I hit send before I can overthink it and keep walking, heading toward my apartment. It’s nothing fancy, just a small place with a mattress on the floor and a fridge that barely works. Definitely not gold-bar levels of luxury.

My phone buzzes again.

"It’s not treasure. Where I’m from, it’s normal currency."

I stop dead in my tracks. Where I’m from.

Okay. What the actual hell does that mean?

Krays-

I smirk, watching the little "typing..." bubble pop up and disappear on my screen. Drew’s freaking out. Good.

I can’t help but enjoy messing with him. It’s too easy. He’s so... normal. A regular human just trying to get by. Meanwhile, I was raised in a world where gold is nothing and power means everything. He has no idea.

After a few seconds, my phone buzzes again.

"Okay, I’m gonna assume you’re either a rich kid, a con artist, or some kind of royal. Which one is it?"

I laugh out loud. If only he knew.

I type back: "None of the above." Then, after a moment, I add: "You’ll see soon enough."

I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I grab the schoolbooks and start flipping through them. The words blur together, useless and unfamiliar. Ugh. This is going to suck.

Tomorrow, I have to blend in. Act human. Act normal.

How hard can it be?

Drew

I stare at Krays’ last message, my brain running in circles. None of the above. Then You’ll see soon enough.

What the hell does that even mean?

I shove my phone into my pocket, willing myself to stop thinking about it. I have more important things to deal with—like figuring out if my fridge is still making that weird groaning sound or if it finally died. But as I push open my apartment door, I know I’m lying to myself.

Because the truth is, Krays is getting under my skin.

I toss my keys onto the counter and flop onto my mattress, staring at the ceiling. There’s something about him—something off. He acts like money means nothing, like the world works by different rules for him. And maybe it does. Maybe he’s some trust fund kid with too much time on his hands. But that doesn’t explain the way he talks. Where I’m from, it’s normal currency.

Where the hell is he from?

I sigh and grab my phone again before I can talk myself out of it.

"You do realize how cryptic you sound, right?"

The message sends, and I wait, half-expecting him to ignore it. But no—he answers almost immediately.

Krays

I glance at my phone and grin. He took the bait. Of course he did.

I stretch out on my bed, tossing my book aside. Studying human history is mind-numbing. Half of it is wrong anyway. The rest is just… sad. But Drew? Drew is entertaining.

I type back:

"Do I? Weird. Thought I was being pretty clear."

The little "typing..." bubble appears, then disappears. He’s frustrated. Good. I don’t know why I enjoy teasing him so much, but I do. Maybe because he’s the first person in this world who’s actually interesting.

Finally, his reply comes through:

"Okay, fine. If it’s so normal where you’re from, then tell me—where are you from?"

I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to answer, but because I can’t. Not yet.

Instead, I send one final message:

"You’ll find out soon enough."

Then, for the first time since I got here, I actually look forward to tomorrow.

Drew

I wake up to my phone buzzing under my pillow. For a second, I forget where I am, the edges of a dream slipping away too fast to hold onto. Something about gold and a city that didn’t look real.

Krays.

I groan, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I grab my phone. There’s a message waiting for me.

Krays: Be ready at noon. You’ll see.

I stare at the words, my pulse kicking up a notch. Be ready for what exactly? But before I can type a reply, three dots appear, then vanish. He’s waiting for me to respond.

I sit up, my mattress creaking beneath me. The fridge is still making that dying-whale noise, but I barely register it.

I type back: See what?

Seconds pass. Then—

Krays: Not gonna ruin the surprise.

I don’t know why I’m letting him pull me into this, but at this point, I’m in too deep to back out. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

Fine. Where am I meeting you?

Krays

I smirk at Drew’s reply. Finally.

I stretch, standing from my bed and walking to the window. The city looks so… small from up here. Ordinary.

He has no idea what he’s about to step into.

I send him the location—a spot near the park, just secluded enough.

Drew

Try not to freak out.

Yeah, great. Because that doesn’t make me immediately want to freak out.

I stare at Krays’ message, debating my life choices. I could just ignore it, pretend I never saw it, and go about my day like a normal person. But we both know that’s not going to happen.

So instead, I get up, grab the least-wrinkled hoodie from my laundry pile, and head out.

The city air is crisp, the sun too bright for how little sleep I got. I shove my hands into my pockets as I make my way toward the park, my brain running in circles. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but my gut is telling me that whatever Krays has planned, it’s not normal.

I check my phone when I get close. The location he sent me isn’t the main part of the park—it’s off to the side, near an older stone bridge that barely gets any foot traffic.

Shady.

I slow as I approach, scanning the area. And there he is.

Krays leans against the bridge, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His dark clothes somehow make him stand out and blend in at the same time. But the weirdest part? He’s holding something small and metallic, flipping it between his fingers like it’s a coin. Except it’s not a coin.

It’s gold. Again.

I stop a few feet away, crossing my arms. “Okay. I’m here. Now what?”

Krays grins. “Good. Now try not to scream.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts his free hand—and then everything I know about reality shatters.

Because right there, in broad daylight, the air around his hand bends. Light twists, warping like heat off pavement, except it’s controlled. Deliberate. And then—just as suddenly—something shimmers into existence.

A doorway.

Not a normal doorway, either. The space inside it is wrong—deeper than it should be, glowing faintly with colors I don’t have names for.

My pulse skyrockets.

“What the hell is that?” I take a step back, heart hammering.

Krays tilts his head, looking amused. “A door. What’s it look like?”

“A door to where?”

He flicks the gold piece into the air and catches it smoothly. “Home.”

I stare at him, at the impossible thing floating in front of me, and suddenly, I know one thing for sure.

Krays isn’t just rich.

He isn’t just messing with me.

He’s something else entirely.

Then, just for fun, I add: Try not to freak out.

Drew

Try not to freak out.

Yeah, great. Because that doesn’t make me immediately want to freak out.

I stare at Krays’ message, debating my life choices. I could just ignore it, pretend I never saw it, and go about my day like a normal person. But we both know that’s not going to happen.

So instead, I get up, grab the least-wrinkled hoodie from my laundry pile, and head out.

The city air is crisp, the sun too bright for how little sleep I got. I shove my hands into my pockets as I make my way toward the park, my brain running in circles. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but my gut is telling me that whatever Krays has planned, it’s not normal.

I check my phone when I get close. The location he sent me isn’t the main part of the park—it’s off to the side, near an older stone bridge that barely gets any foot traffic.

Shady.

I slow as I approach, scanning the area. And there he is.

Krays leans against the bridge, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His dark clothes somehow make him stand out and blend in at the same time. But the weirdest part? He’s holding something small and metallic, flipping it between his fingers like it’s a coin. Except it’s not a coin.

It’s gold. Again.

I stop a few feet away, crossing my arms. “Okay. I’m here. Now what?”

Krays grins. “Good. Now try not to scream.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts his free hand—and then everything I know about reality shatters.

Because right there, in broad daylight, the air around his hand bends. Light twists, warping like heat off pavement, except it’s controlled. Deliberate. And then—just as suddenly—something shimmers into existence.

A doorway.

Not a normal doorway, either. The space inside it is wrong—deeper than it should be, glowing faintly with colors I don’t have names for.

My pulse skyrockets.

“What the hell is that?” I take a step back, heart hammering.

Krays tilts his head, looking amused. “A door. What’s it look like?”

“A door to where?”

He flicks the gold piece into the air and catches it smoothly. “Home.”

I stare at him, at the impossible thing floating in front of me, and suddenly, I know one thing for sure.

Krays isn’t just rich.

He isn’t just messing with me.

Drew

I take another step back, my body screaming at me to run. Every logical part of my brain is telling me that this isn’t real, that I must be hallucinating, that doors like this don’t just appear out of nowhere.

And yet, here it is.

Krays watches me, the gold piece still rolling over his fingers like this is nothing. Like he hasn’t just shattered my entire understanding of reality in one casual motion.

“You good?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You look like you might pass out.”

I snap my gaze from the glowing doorway to him. “I—what—what the hell?” I gesture wildly at the portal. “You can’t just—just do that and expect me to be fine with it!”

He smirks. “Told you not to freak out.”

“Yeah, well, that’s impossible.” I rake a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing. “What is that? How are you doing that? What even are you?”

Krays lets the gold piece drop into his palm and tucks it into his pocket. “That’s a lot of questions, Drew.”

“Yeah, because I just watched you open a hole in space like it’s your personal front door!” I shake my head, laughing a little hysterically. “Do normal rules just not apply to you?”

Krays hums, considering. “Not really, no.”

I groan, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. This is insane. I’m insane for still standing here. But despite every part of me telling me to leave, I don’t.

Because no matter how terrifying this is, I need answers.

I lower my hands. “Explain. Now.”

Krays tilts his head, studying me like he’s trying to decide something. Then, with a sigh, he gestures at the doorway. “This,” he says, “is a portal. It leads to where I’m from.”

I cross my arms. “And that is…?”

He grins. “A place you’ve never heard of.”

I resist the urge to punch him. “Try me.”

He steps closer, just enough that I catch the shift in his expression—still amused, but something else now, too. A hint of curiosity. Like he wasn’t expecting me to still be here, demanding answers.

Finally, he says, “I’m not from this world, Drew.”

Silence.

I open my mouth, then close it. Because honestly? I don’t know what to say to that.

Krays watches me, waiting for my reaction. When I don’t immediately bolt or start screaming, he gives me a slow, knowing smile. “You believe me,” he says. Not a question—just a fact.

I want to deny it. I really, really do. But the proof is right there, humming in the air behind him. A doorway to somewhere else.

I swallow hard. “What happens if I step through?”

Krays’ smile widens. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

He holds out a hand.

And against every shred of common sense I have left—

I take it.

Drew

The second my fingers brush Krays’ hand, the air around us shifts.

It’s not just the portal—it’s everything. The air gets heavier, charged like the moments before a storm. The world tilts, my stomach lurching like I just stepped off solid ground.

And then—

We’re somewhere else.

The cool air of the park is gone, replaced by a thick, heady warmth. The scent of something unfamiliar—spiced, rich, electric—fills my lungs. My feet stumble against polished stone instead of pavement. And above us…

The sky isn’t right.

The colors are too deep, too alive, swirling in patterns that shouldn’t be possible. Distant lights hover like stars, but they move, shifting in ways that make my head spin. Towers rise in the distance, sleek and dark, glowing at their edges like molten gold. The whole city feels like it’s breathing, alive in a way I’ve never seen before.

I don’t realize I’m gripping Krays’ hand like a lifeline until he shifts, his thumb grazing my palm.

“Breathe,” he murmurs, voice low. “You’re not gonna pass out, are you?”

“I—” I exhale sharply, trying to find my balance. “I don’t know.”

Krays chuckles, his hand still holding mine. “You’re handling this better than I expected.”

I glare at him. “I feel like I just got abducted.”

“Well.” He smirks, stepping closer. “Technically, you walked in on your own.”

I’m about to fire back, but then I really look at him. The way the strange, golden light catches in his eyes. The way his usual smug amusement is edged with something softer. And the way he still hasn’t let go of my hand.

A realization settles over me.

He wanted me to come with him.

Not just for answers. Not just because I was curious.

But because he wanted me here. With him.

I should be freaking out. I should be demanding to go back. But instead, my heart is racing for an entirely different reason.

Krays lifts our joined hands slightly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. His smirk deepens. “You’re staring.”

I scoff, trying to ignore the way my pulse stutters. “Yeah, because I’m in a whole other world right now.”

“Sure.” His voice dips lower, amused. “That’s why.”

I narrow my eyes, but my breath catches when he steps even closer. The heat of him is suddenly right there, pressing against me. I can feel the shift in his energy, something magnetic, something impossible to ignore.

“You should probably stop looking at me like that,” he murmurs.

I swallow. “Like what?”

Krays tilts his head, considering me. Then—without warning—he tugs me forward, our bodies flush. His lips brush against my ear, just barely.

“Like you want me to do something about it.”

My brain short-circuits. My breath hitches. And for a split second, I don’t care about where we are, or what’s happening, or the fact that I just stepped into an entirely new world.

All I care about is him.

And the way I want to close the space between us even more.

He’s something else entirely.

Drew

Krays doesn’t pull away. If anything, he lingers, his breath warm against my skin, his presence so damn close that my thoughts blur at the edges.

I should step back. I should demand more answers. But instead—

I do the opposite.

I tilt my head just slightly, closing the last bit of space between us. My pulse is a frantic drumbeat in my ears, but I don’t care. Not when Krays’ fingers tighten around mine, not when his other hand comes up, brushing against my jaw, tilting my face toward his.

“Careful,” he murmurs, but there’s no warning in his tone—just pure amusement, laced with something darker. Something wanting.

“Or what?” My voice is lower than I expect, rough with adrenaline.

His smirk sharpens. “Or I might start thinking you like this.”

I don’t let myself hesitate. “And if I do?”

Krays lets out a low, satisfied hum, and before I can think too hard about what I just admitted—

He kisses me.

It’s not slow. It’s not careful. It’s a claim, full of heat and certainty, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as I have. His fingers slide to the back of my neck, pulling me in, and I barely have a second to register the way his lips move against mine before everything else vanishes—

The strange sky, the impossible city, the reality that I just left my entire world behind. None of it matters.

Just this.

Just him.

His teeth graze my lower lip, a teasing, deliberate motion that sends a sharp thrill down my spine. I exhale against his mouth, my hands fisting in his jacket as I pull him closer, pressing flush against the solid heat of him. Krays lets out a noise—somewhere between a chuckle and a groan—and deepens the kiss, tilting his head, slotting his lips even more perfectly against mine.

The air around us hums, electric, alive. Whether it’s him or this place, I don’t know. But I feel dizzy with it.

Finally, after what feels like both a second and an eternity, Krays pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. His eyes flicker gold in the strange light, sharp with mischief and something else.

“Well,” he says, his voice deliciously smug. “That escalated quickly.”

I laugh, breathless, but don’t move away. “You literally pulled me through a portal to another world and now you’re surprised?”

Krays grins. “Fair point.” He drags his thumb over my bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the feel of it. “You really are full of surprises, Drew.”

“Yeah?” I arch an eyebrow, still trying to catch my breath. “So are you.”

His smile shifts—less teasing, more real—and for a moment, the world around us stills. Like maybe, just maybe, I made the right choice stepping through that portal after all.

As we stand there, the air still charged between us, a shift happens in Krays. It’s subtle at first, just a flicker in his eyes, the golden hue pulsing brighter, like a warning. My breath catches in my throat.

He looks at me, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second—just long enough for me to see the raw intensity in his eyes. Then, in one fluid motion, he steps back. His gaze doesn’t leave mine, but there's something darker now, something... ancient.

“Drew,” he says softly, his voice somehow deeper, more resonant. “You’re not ready for this.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat as the space around us seems to hum with energy, growing thicker, heavier. The sky above us, which was already strange and alive, begins to swirl—pulsing with a strange golden light, casting everything in a glow that feels like it’s coming from the core of the earth itself.

I stumble back, but Krays doesn’t let me fall. His hand shoots out, steadying me before I can hit the ground, but there’s an intensity in his grip now that wasn’t there before.

And then it happens.

A ripple of dark power washes over him, and the air around us shifts once more. His body seems to stretch and grow, his form rippling like the edge of a mirage. His clothes—those same dark, perfectly tailored garments—shift, but it's not just his appearance that changes.

It’s him.

His eyes glow brighter, that golden light now burning like molten metal, a fierce, ancient energy radiating from him. His skin takes on an otherworldly sheen, a strange, iridescent gleam that shimmers in the strange light of this place. The air crackles, thick with power, and my pulse is hammering in my chest as I stare at him, the realization finally hitting me like a punch to the gut.

Krays isn't just some guy.

He's not just someone from another world, someone who can bend reality with a glance.

He’s something much darker, much more terrifying. And as the power around him surges, I know—he knows—I’m seeing something I shouldn’t be. Something that was never meant to be revealed.

“You…” My voice shakes, the words feeling too small for what I’m seeing. “What are you?”

His lips curl into a smile, but it’s nothing like the playful smirk from before. It’s more feral, more dangerous, and so much older.

“I’m the one your world whispers about in your darkest nightmares,” he says, his voice barely a whisper, but it vibrates through the air, leaving my entire body trembling. “The one you were never meant to meet.”

The golden light in his eyes flares, and the power around us intensifies—like the world itself is bending to his will. My heart races, not from fear, but from something else. Something primal that pulses through me, pulling me deeper into his orbit.

And then he says it, his voice like the rumble of thunder, shaking the ground beneath us.

“I am the Demon King, Drew.”

I don’t know how long we stand there, the reality of his words sinking in, the weight of the truth pressing down on me. His form seems to shimmer and distort, like something both here and not here, and as I look at him—truly look at him—I understand.

The darkness in him, the power, the endless strength... it’s real. And it's something far beyond the reach of anything I could’ve ever imagined.

But in that moment, something shifts in me too. That part of me that’s been fighting it all—denying the truth, denying this pull toward him—it finally lets go.

Because in this world, where nothing makes sense, he does.

And for some reason, I want to stay.

Krays watches me, his expression unreadable, as if waiting for my reaction. The air crackles between us, thick with tension. His hand is still in mine, and though the world feels wrong, I’m not sure if I even care anymore.

The Demon King.

I want to laugh at how insane this all sounds, but I can’t find the words.

“You’re... the Demon King?” I manage, the words heavy in the space between us.

Krays just smirks, the golden light in his eyes flickering like fire.

“Did you think the stories were just stories, Drew?” His voice is low, but there’s something dangerous in it now. “You’ve stepped into my world. A world where power isn’t just a currency—it’s life. And you, Drew, are standing right in front of its king.”

I swallow hard, my pulse thudding in my ears as the magnitude of his words sinks in.

I should be terrified. I should be backing away, running back through the portal, back to the world I know. But the way he looks at me—the weight of his gaze, the magnetism of his presence—it keeps me rooted in place.

“Stay,” he whispers, his voice soft but commanding, the golden glow in his eyes deepening. “I’m not done showing you everything.”

And in that moment, despite every ounce of logic telling me to run, I don’t. I stay.

Because somehow, I know—this is only the beginning.

The air between us is charged, thick with something I can’t name. My heart should be pounding with fear, but instead, it’s thudding for an entirely different reason.

Krays—no, the Demon King—tilts his head, watching me with an unsettling patience, like he’s waiting for something. A reaction. A choice.

And god help me, I don’t know which one to give him.

The sky churns overhead, the strange golden glow intensifying, casting shifting shadows across his impossibly sharp features. He’s still holding my hand, and I should pull away, should demand answers—but my fingers stay curled around his. His touch is warm, grounding, even as everything else around me feels like it’s slipping into the surreal.

“So.” My voice comes out steadier than I expect, even though my pulse is anything but. “Demon King, huh?”

Krays chuckles, low and knowing. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What else do you want me to say?” I tighten my grip on his hand, meeting his gaze head-on. “You expect me to bow or something?”

His smirk sharpens, something flashing behind his golden eyes. “Would you?”

I snort. “Not a chance.”

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes him, something dark and amused. “Good.” His fingers ghost over my wrist before he finally lets go, stepping back. The weight of his presence lingers, though, as if some invisible tether still holds us together.

But just as quickly as the teasing disappears, something else takes its place—something heavier. The amusement in his expression dims, replaced by something more calculating.

“You don’t understand what you’ve walked into, Drew,” he says, quieter now. “This world, my world, isn’t kind to outsiders.”

I exhale sharply. “Yeah, well, it’s a little late for second thoughts.”

His gaze flickers, like he’s reading more in my words than I meant to give away. “No regrets, then?”

I don’t answer immediately. Because how could I?

I left everything behind. My world, my reality—everything that made sense. I should regret it. I should be panicking, demanding a way back before it’s too late.

But when I look at Krays, standing there with all that power humming just beneath the surface, all I feel is certainty.

“No,” I say finally. “No regrets.”

His expression shifts—just a fraction, just enough for me to see it. The approval. The intrigue. And maybe, just maybe, the smallest flicker of relief.

For a moment, neither of us speak. The city looms in the distance, pulsing with an eerie kind of life, and something about the way the air feels tells me that this—whatever this is—is just the beginning.

Then, Krays extends his hand again, that smug, knowing smirk curling back into place. “Come on, then.”

I glance at his hand, then back up at him. “Where are we going?”

His golden eyes gleam. “To see what kind of trouble you’ve really gotten yourself into.”

And against all reason, against all logic—I take his hand.

Because I have a feeling that whatever’s coming next?

I don’t want to face it alone.

The city looms before us, its towering spires and pulsing lights stretching into the swirling sky. It should feel like stepping into the future, like a wonder waiting to be explored. But the moment Krays leads me past the first set of arching gates, a chill settles deep in my bones.

This place isn’t alive.

It’s starving.

The streets are lined with people—if you can even call them that. Their faces are hollow, their eyes sunken and flickering with faint embers of gold, the same shade as Krays’ own. But there’s no power in them, no strength. Just a quiet, aching emptiness.

They don’t look at me.

They look at him.

A flicker of something moves across Krays’ face—too fast for me to catch. His grip on my hand tightens, just slightly, before he lets go.

“Stay close,” he murmurs. “And don’t say anything.”

I don’t ask why. The weight of the air presses against me like a living thing, thick with something that tastes like sorrow.

As we move deeper into the city, I see them more clearly—the broken figures draped in dark, tattered cloaks, sitting motionless in the shadows of grand, crumbling buildings. Some are whispering under their breath, words I can’t understand. Others don’t move at all.

I swallow hard, unease twisting in my gut. “Krays…”

His jaw is tight. “I told you not to—”

A rasping voice cuts through the silence.

“My king.”

The words scrape through the air like rusted metal, and I realize the figure crouched before us is bowing. Not out of respect.

Out of fear.

The man—or what’s left of him—is barely more than skin and bone. His fingers dig into the cracked stone beneath him as he lifts his head, golden eyes flickering weakly in the dim light. “You’ve returned.”

A pause. Then:

“Will you take more from us?”

The breath stutters in my throat. I look at Krays, waiting for him to deny it—to say something, anything—but he doesn’t.

He just stands there, face unreadable, eyes locked on the man in front of him.

The silence stretches.

And then, a whisper from the crowd.

“The king feeds.”

It ripples through them, soft and resigned, spreading like smoke through the empty streets. I glance around, my pulse hammering, and suddenly, I see it.

The hunger.

Not just in the way their bodies look, but in the way they look at him.

Krays exhales slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. When he speaks, his voice is quiet. Measured. “I told you not to call me that.”

The man bows his head lower. “What else should we call the one who holds our fate in his hands?”

The tension in the ruined temple is suffocating. Krays stands with his back to me, staring out at the city that fears him, his shoulders tight with something unreadable.

Then, the air shifts.

I feel it before I see anything—a ripple of something sharp, electric, crawling along my skin like static before a storm. My body tenses, instincts screaming even though I don’t know why.

Krays notices it too. His head tilts slightly, his golden eyes flicking to the side.

And then—

The world explodes into motion.

A shadow bursts from the broken columns, moving too fast for me to track. Steel flashes in the dim light—a blade, aimed straight for Krays’ throat.

But he’s faster.

In a single breath, he moves—ducking low, pivoting, his hand snapping up like lightning to catch the attacker’s wrist. The sound of impact cracks through the air as he twists, flipping the figure hard onto the stone floor.

Dust erupts around us. The figure—cloaked, hooded—rolls, using the momentum to recover before leaping back onto their feet.

Krays exhales sharply, golden eyes blazing. “You again.”

The hood falls back, revealing a sharp, angular face, wild dark hair, and eyes that burn with barely contained fury.

“You still breathe,” the attacker spits. “A damn shame.”

Krays’ smirk is pure venom. “And yet, you keep trying. What is this, the fifth time?”

The rebel—because that’s what he has to be, one of the people who don’t cower in fear—snarls and lunges again. His movements are relentless, a blur of sharp angles and lethal precision.

Krays meets him head-on.

They clash, a violent symphony of steel and shadow. The rebel’s twin daggers flash in the golden light, striking with deadly intent, each one aimed at something vital. Krays barely dodges the first swipe, then parries the second with an arm that should have been cut clean through—but the blade barely scrapes his skin.

He laughs—low, dark. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

The rebel does.

He pivots low, sweeping a leg beneath Krays’ feet. But Krays anticipates it, stepping back just in time, using the movement to counter—his fist slamming into the rebel’s ribs with crushing force.

The rebel staggers, but doesn’t fall.

Instead, he grins. Blood drips from his lip. “That all you got, Your Highness?”

Krays’ expression flickers. Just for a second. But it’s enough.

The rebel sees it. And then he’s moving—throwing a vial to the ground that erupts into thick, suffocating smoke.

I cough, my vision blurring. A second later, the whistle of a blade slices through the air.

Krays catches it.

When the smoke thins, the rebel is pinned against a crumbling pillar, Krays’ hand wrapped around his throat. The dagger is buried in Krays’ palm—but if it hurts, he doesn’t show it.

The rebel gasps, struggling, but Krays leans in close, his voice dangerously soft.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, golden eyes glowing like embers, “what exactly was your plan? Kill me, take the throne? Become something worse?”

The rebel snarls. “I’d rather burn this world than let you keep feeding off it.”

Krays’ fingers twitch. For a second, I think he’s going to crush the guy’s throat right there.

But then—he releases him.

The rebel collapses to the ground, coughing, gasping for air.

Krays looks down at him, flexing his bleeding hand like it’s nothing. “You’re a fool,” he says simply. “And a reckless one at that.”

The rebel glares up at him, teeth bared. “Then finish it.”

Krays doesn’t.

Instead, he turns away, wiping the blood from his palm against his jacket like it’s an inconvenience.

“You’re not worth killing,” he says, voice cold. “Not yet.”

The rebel lets out a bitter laugh, still clutching his ribs. “You’re making a mistake, Demon King.”

Krays doesn’t look back.

“I always do.”

And just like that, it’s over.

The rebel stays on the ground, breathing hard. Krays walks past me, his jaw tight, his golden eyes unreadable.

I don’t say anything.

Because for the first time, I realize—Krays isn’t just feared.

He’s hated.

And I don’t know what that means for me.

Krays-

The air shifts before the attack comes.

It’s subtle—the way the pressure bends, the way the city’s hum stutters like a skipped heartbeat. But I feel it. I always do.

By the time the rebel moves, I’m already turning.

He comes fast, silent, blade flashing toward my throat. Predictable.

I catch his wrist before steel meets skin, twisting hard. Bone grinds against bone, and he barely manages to roll with it before I slam him to the ground.

He recovers quickly. I’ll give him that.

Dust kicks up as he flips back to his feet, twin daggers gleaming in his hands, his dark hair wild around his sharp, furious face.

The rebel.

The persistent rebel.

“You again,” I say, exhaling sharply.

His lip curls. “Still breathing, huh?”

I smirk, flexing my fingers. “Much to your disappointment, I’m sure.”

I don’t expect a response. I do expect him to lunge, and he does.

He’s quick. But I’m quicker.

We move like a violent rhythm, a song played in steel and instinct. His blades strike—fast, precise, aimed at weak points that don’t exist. I dodge, parry, redirect. His footwork is good—measured, controlled—but there’s anger behind it, and anger makes people sloppy.

I bait him forward, a calculated half-step that leaves an opening too tempting for him to ignore.

He takes it.

He shouldn’t have.

I pivot as he lunges, catching his arm and yanking him forward—his own momentum working against him. My fist slams into his ribs, and I feel the satisfying crunch of impact.

He stumbles, coughing, but recovers fast enough to grin, blood staining his teeth. “That all you got, Your Highness?”

My smirk falters. It’s brief—so brief—but he sees it.

His hand moves before I can react, a small glass vial shattering at our feet.

Smoke erupts around us, thick and acrid. My vision cuts out.

Smart.

But not smart enough.

I feel the dagger before I see it.

The air shifts—left side, high angle, short arc. He’s aiming for my ribs. A fatal strike, if I were anyone else.

I reach out and catch the blade.

Pain sears through my palm, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I let the force of it drive me forward, slamming him back into a crumbling pillar.

The smoke thins, revealing his face—eyes wild, breath ragged. My fingers tighten around his throat, just enough to remind him who I am.

His dagger is still lodged in my hand. Blood drips down my wrist, but I barely notice it.

“Tell me,” I murmur, voice low. “What exactly was your plan? Kill me, take the throne? Become something worse?”

His lips curl in a snarl. “I’d rather burn this world than let you keep feeding off it.”

The words shouldn’t hit as hard as they do. But they do.

For a moment, I consider it. Ending this. Ending him.

It would be easy. A twist of my fingers. A snap of his spine.

But instead, I let go.

He drops to the ground, gasping.

I look down at him, flexing my bloodied hand. The pain is already fading, body stitching itself back together.

“You’re a fool,” I say simply. “And a reckless one at that.”

He glares at me, teeth bared. “Then finish it.”

I don’t.

I never do.

Instead, I turn away, wiping my palm against my jacket, smearing crimson into the dark fabric.

“You’re not worth killing,” I say. “Not yet.”

His laughter follows me as I walk away, bitter and broken.

“You’re making a mistake, Demon King.”

I don’t look back.

I always do.