"It wasn't my fault you see." Danya; with his mother and sister watched security footage of the fighting. Danya, ushing people over, clumsily. Taking blows from all angles.

  "I knew my Danya wouldn't have killed these criminals." Valeriya whispered. Holding tight of her child's hands.

  "I agree Valeriya. But..." A defence wyer interjected; young in years, barley looking up from his piles of papers. Hair ly styled and back, trimmed beard, gentle face.

  "But?"

  "The jury will take one look at your son, and see a brute." Pg doerwork.

  "But the footage shows him defending himself? Won't that t for-" Valeriya was beginning to grow frustrated at this.

  "And the prosecution will spin that however they want. His as resulted in the deaths of the girl, he should have goo the police, why was he w there to begin with?" Katya pced her hands over Danya. Her touf in these desperate times. His sister uo look at him.

  "What are our options?"

  "A deal has been offered...6 years. To be served in a juvenile prison-"

  "But I didn't mean to! They were doing bad stuff!"

  "Hush Danya." Valeriya patted on his hands.

  "And if we fight?"

  "The prosecution is pushing for 20. In a men's prison with a perma record."

  This struck the two. A cold weight from their chest sank to their feet. All were silent. How to avoid the worst-case sario. To take the deal or to fight and risk losing. Katya was the first to raise.

  "Danya... What do you think?"

  "I don't want to go to prison. I didn't do anything wrong." Fresh tears ready to flow. "... I..."

  "Have ce Danya. Do not fear what you are. Never."

  "But- I am-" Tears rolled free, flooding the surfad blurring eyes.

  "If we do take this deal. Your records will be wiped once you turn 18." Again, Danya started to shake like a leaf.

  "Take the deal Danya. They will twist everything against you." Katya whispered without turning her head.

  His tears stopped falling. Hands raised up to his face, to wipe the wet tracks away, and his mom rubbed a soothing circle on his shoulder.

  "W-Will you visit?"

  "Yes. As much as I possibly ." Valeriya couldn't stop her tears. As Danya rose to sign the paperwork, accepting the prosecution's deal. Feeling an immense dread, knowing that the deade was unjust. However, Valeriya and Katya agreed, with both his mother and sister supp him.

  On that day Danya was found guilty of involuntary mansughter. Senteo 6 years inside.

  10 Years ago, inside a Juveentiore of Eastern Russia. 4 Years served:

  Despite serving an unjust senteime flew by, weeks, months, then years. Often, he waited in his cell; reading and writing. Only the library was Danya's best soce. The other boys often stayed away, not wanting to draw the ire of the near 7ft Danya.

  True to her word; Valeriya came to visit Danya every month. Bringing his favourite treats. That would put a smile on any prisoner’s face. Although every time she came, her features began to fade, skin wrinkles. A mother who was tired.

  When she wasn't able to e for whatever reasons. Katya filled in.

  He had yet to see his father again. No matter what was happening at home, never did they speak on it. Valeriya felt her son had enough on his pte.

  Then one day. ged everything. The boys were anxiously sprinting up and down the crete corridors shouting. "Gates, Monsters!"

  "Danya. Quickly get to the on room." One boy spoke with urgency.

  "Portals to other worlds have appeared. Russia is currently iigating and is o. We urge the people. Stay away from them, until we learn more sider them dangerous."

  The boys were full of questioed by the prospect. It was like those Japanese or Korean stories. Ones Danya read plenty of, being popur in the library. inds; full of the new wonders of portals and what would be found oher side.

  Days ter; and envoy of gover officials arrived at the facility. Spreading pamphlets to all. Speaking to the warden and then guards and soon spreading the o all inmates,

  'A new ce, a new life. Join the Russian gatekeeping force. Earn your freedom!'

  Danya jumped at the offer. 'Freedom. I see mom quicker.'

  Once again, he did not think on the sequences. His young mind lined up with all the er boys. T over the seated officials. A dy with red hair and bck rimmed gsses nearly looked up at a 90° angle.

  "H-Here, sign there and there." Danya did not notice the nerves in her. Barley reading the tract; freedom was on his mind. Nothing else.

  "Will I leave prison early if I sign this?" His voice like deep drums. Booming in the silehe other boys waited on his question to be answered. Wanting it as well.

  "Um... W-well you see-"

  The maed ave a side eye. Chest of numerous badges adorned his uniform. Bck short hair with a scar down his left cheek. A veteran from an older war.

  "Yes... You will gain your freedom."

  That was it. Danya needed no more. Hand pressing on the sheet, squiggling his o the form. "Done!" Eagerly awaiting the release of these walls that would e.

  Busloads of kids left the facility ter that week, nearly depleting the facility to its core. A trip to the unknown. All the boys, spoke, talked of what they would do onside these magical portals, from being adventurers, knights, all manner of excitement and adventures.

  Danya was just looking forward to seeing his mama again. Sleeping in his own bed. Eating a beef stroganoff cooked with his mother’s love. Perhaps this could all be a fresh art.

  He never saw his mother or the ones he loved again.

  ***

  A rge crete building awaited them. Tall crete walls and towers of menag guards. Iron gates opening to a courtyard. Despair, like an iron grip squeezing on his heart.

  At least 100 boys filled out of buses, gathered around a strange white orb. Military figures barking for them to line up. Oheir shuffling was plete. A bald and sturdy, beast of man stood in front, hardened milky white eyes sweeping over the boys.

  "Listen up, you ingrates." His voice, the roar of the sea, bellowing across the courtyard.

  "You've been granted a wonderful opportunity." Not an ounce of joy behind his words.

  "Touch the orb and receive your power." One by ohey filed like ants; the lowed under an overcast sky, boys sorted into groups of A-E. Based purely on rank.

  "A-Rank. Juggernaut css. gratutions. Report to A camp." A woman noted, pushing Danya forwards.

  "Um excuse me... When do we get to leave?" Danya looked down with puppy eyes; scared to have broken some rule.

  She chuckled. "Leave? Honey, your ours until you reach level 100. Did you not read the tract you signed?" Blood ran cold in Danya's veins, veins and eyes burned as all the colour drained.

  "W-wait... the dy said I will have my freedom when I signed!"

  A smug smirk on her face. "Yes. after you plete your tract. We 't have criminals running around Russia with powers now. we?"

  Danya fled, past the other boys, past the guards. No oopped him.

  *Bang* *Bang* *Bang*

  "P-Please let me out. I o tell my mother where I went." Words slurred as hot, heavy, thick, and moist tears broke free. Harder and harder against the Iron gates he pounded; chest smming into etal; pleading to aside.

  *Crack*

  His head smmed against the gate. Tumbling towards the ground.

  "We have a runner already?" The white-eyed ander hovered over him.

  "An A-rank Juggernaut; with a heart as soft as pudding." Kneeling to match the still teary-eyed boy.

  "Don't worry boy. We will make a real man of you." Patting his back like he was one of the ander's sons.

  "Please... I want to go bay mom..." Sniffling through, heart sinking deeper. Thinking that his mother would never let something happen to her son.

  "Don't panic boy. You will see you mother son as a neanic. Yes, that will be your new name. Panic wele to the Gatekeepers."

  "M-my name is Danya-"

  *Smack*

  "Silence, you are no lohat boy. You are Panic. Wele to the Gatekeepers."

  Training was a brutal ordeal, before the boys even looked upon a gate; they spent months training in bat and physical fitness. Drills on hard crete, from dawn till dusk. Pushed to their limits.

  Food was always an odd thing. Feasted like Kings one minute and then starvation like peasants the . Another means of moulding them into Gatekeepers. Teag them the trials of long journeys and pushing onward when food is low. Drilling within, they had to give 110% effort, no less was allowed.

  Panic; still yearning for his mother’s embrace. Every night he cried, every night the other boys were ordered to beat the tears out of the gentle giant. Just one of many ways the officials hardened up their criminals. One day those tears wouldn't spill free.

  The initial gates were simple in nature.

  Go in, sy the enemies, strip them of resources aurn home. Each day, a new gate, more training and less leveling with each day passed. The system was a cruel mistress.

  Giant spiders, ant hives, zombies, orcs, and other humanoid species. These were just some of the many instahe gatekeepers would enter. Sying hundreds of monsters. All being routine; like day-to-day workers in an office. The goal: level up, fulfill tract obligations, work for the mothernd.

  8 Years ago, somewhere in Russia:

  "Attention! Today. We shall tackle a B-rank Gate." The ander; who the young men never learnt the name of, boomed over the training field.

  "This will be your most challenging endeavour yet. Prepare accly." By now there was no longer ahusiasm. Just cold stares. Hard faces, no more childish excitement, only hard bodies fed by the cruel mistress.

  'I would be home now. Mama would be cooking stroganoff. Maybe I could go to the shops with Katya. She loves shopping.' He still wished every night to be bae, but he wouldn't dare show it anymore. g now meant a beating until he spat blood. Then breakfast taken away.

  Only level 47; not even half way done. How much longer did this go on for. Memories of home seemed only to vanish with each passing day. Katya would probably have a boyfriend. Probably went on to uy ao start a happy life somewhere.

  The gate was much like the others, a dark cave system. Moss and green slime slipped doooled across the uneven floor. Delving in, a formu they had followed for years.

  Quickly ing to what should be the boss chamber. Instead, housed tents of all sizes with banners of a bck shield and fist. The group were fused by such a setup. Never had they seen other 'people' within a gate.

  A long-haired woman, emerged from a tent. Short with blonde hair that covered her eyes. Terror took her form. Shouting a nguage unknown to these gatekeepers, she vanished into a tent. Armed with spear like ons, groups of men piled out; shields and short swords at the ready; crude onry pointed forward.

  "plete our mission. Our ander has ordered. Leave none of the monsters alive." Cold words from the captain of the squad. Leading his charge towards these unknowures.

  Their cries of despair, all but stopped uhe Russian's magic, overwhelming by both numbers and coordination, Panic, stood there. Watg men fall.

  His anders order. 'They are mohat need sying. Not people. Monsters.' But these are no goblins, monsters, orcs, or animals; but humans.

  Ient women huddled, c their children. Mutterings of prayers, st breaths being uttered by those wounded. His training taught him, all in a dungeon, in the presence of a gate. Everything must die, every monster sin.

  It was as quick as it could be.

  "Panic. Are they dead?" One Russian shouted into the tent. Not brave enough to firm for themselves.

  "Да."

  ***

  5 Years ago, somewhere in Russia:

  Level 100!

  tract: plete.

  Years were spent amongst dungeons. Earning his freedom at st. A hand spped against Panic's back. The first kindness shown for a long while.

  His squad stood to attention in the courtyard, The ander by his side. A grin spread wide across his wrinkliures.

  "Well done, Panic. You have done us proud, serving the mothernd well. You are a free man. You make your own choices."

  Panic watched the iron curtain open. Sun shining to the outside. Blinding and searing his eyes with a vibrant glow. A glow he hadn't seen for years, so many endless cycles of killing in dank and gloom.

  "Although; the mothernd still needs strong warriors. You have the option to remain with us. Fight for the mothernd." That voice. Sounded so sweet in Panic's ears. Years of manipution on dispy.

  "Freedom..." His words without emotion. Taking a step towards his ander.

  "I knew you would. You wouldn't abandon your rades in- Hey! What are you-"

  *THUMP*

  The ander flew from the square. Jaw ched shut with brokeh flung out across the stone floor.

  "Wh-What are you doing Panic!" He muttered like a wounded beast. Clutg and g at its gaping wound, scrambling for its life.

  Panic stood above his fallen ander. Lifting him high above.

  *Sm* *Crack*

  "ARGGGH- Stop- I and- PLE-" With broken arms he is lifted once more.

  *Sm* *Crack*

  "AAAAAGHHH! HELP-" Broken legs now, dangling useless, and held up again, by the man who would've never harmed a fly as a boy.

  *ch*

  Once more, the ander barley held onto sciousness. Bones protruded all over the old man's body. Once more lifted into the air.

  "I am no longer yours."

  *ch*

  The ander y in a puddle of his own broken bones and blood. Panic turned away. His squad salute him, dispersing without order. A shared trauma that ects all, a tormentor no more.

  Free to see his family, Panic travelled; spending his little money on a bus ticket. Then walking. A whole day it took, feet pounding pavement, cars passing. Finally reag the streets, on which he grew up. Familiar yet somehow not. Was the city always this rundown, trees were still and silent, snow forever buried cars, bins littered the streets.

  Bck charred brick. The skeleton of his home burned down. Walls barely supp the remains, the smell of wet and ash still lingered. He stood frozen, staring in disbelief.

  Through the ruins and up the stairs; trudging up rotten wood. Paered his old, bed bedroom. Walls littered with charred marks, shelves reduced to piles, bedframe barely standing. A desote sadness fell upon the empty room.

  At the foot of the bed frame, he sat down, charcoaled wood staining trousers. Eyes glued to his bedroom door. Would his mum would rush through, hug her son, shower him with the love he missed?

  *Step* *Step* *Step*

  Shuffling echoed in the distahey were getting closer. Panic could feel it, breathiic, heartbeat rising.

  *Step* *Step* *Step*

  *Click*

  Before him was an older man. With greying brown hair and facial hair, ly shaven to style, yet still thin and wiry. Tailrey and white clothes. Aravagant e in his hand, clig as the tip bounced. Familiarity about this man.

  "So, the prodigal son has finally returned. Boy." Spitting that st word as though a curse.

  Leonid.

  "News of your crimes has spread far, boy." Panic remained locked past the man, hoping to see someone else walk in behind him.

  "The funny thing is. They’re letting you go. The man you killed will die as a scapegoat for the crimes of that division you served." Spoken like a true businessman. Leonid tinued with a smile.

  "An unjust a, for a just oute. Something that the boy I knew would give anything for." Shifting towards Panic, but keeping distance.

  His eyes softe the ruins. "I'm sorry my boy. That you must find this. A couple of years ago a gas leak caused this."

  Panic had no expression on his face. Last shreds of hope goh the winter breeze, gliding the ash in his childhood bedroom.

  "I have work for you, if you want it. Your choice."

  Paniew better, nothing was free. Standing up to his full height he didn't utter a single word. Yet Leonid still smiled. "For what it’s worth Danya. I really am sorry." Brushing past the Russian giant, Leonid clig e retraced his steps.

  Panic followed without a word. Not looking bace to his home. There was nothi for him here.

  MaskedManNull