Saylor Cogni once believed that kindness mattered.
He helped because he could.
He trusted because he believed people would return the favor.
He gave even when it cost him everything.
At first, it was small betrayals:
A friend who never paid him back.
A neighbor who forgot his sacrifices.
A colleague who took credit for his work.
Still, Saylor clung to hope.
"People make mistakes," he told himself. "But deep down, they're good."
Until the avalanche hit.
---
It started with an accusation — quiet, poisonous.
Someone framed him at work: stolen documents, false deals.
Meetings whispered behind closed doors.
Security escorted him out without a word.
His friends didn't defend him.
His family hesitated when he called.
Even the woman he loved — Angela —
packed her things while he pleaded in the rain.
> "You're too much trouble, Saylor. I need someone stable."
The door closed.
Not with a slam.
Just a final, soft click.
---
Three days passed in silence.
Bills stacked.
Messages died unread.
The world, once vibrant, grayed to static.
On the third night, someone slid a letter under his door.
No name.
Just one line, typed cruelly:
> This is what you get for trusting people.
He didn't cry.
He didn't break anything.
He just... stopped believing.
---
Saylor packed what little he had left.
He stepped into the gray morning mist, suitcase dragging behind him.
And the sky cracked open.
---
Chapter 2: Fractures in Faith
The sun tore like paper.
Black rifts spiderwebbed across the clouds.
Faint, eerie chimes echoed — the sound of broken glass underwater.
The people around Saylor froze.
They pointed.
They prayed.
They filmed with shaking phones.
None of it mattered.
---
The mist poured down — not rain, not fog,
something heavier.
Something alive.
Saylor breathed it in.
He felt it coil inside his lungs, whispering promises in a language older than fear.
Others screamed as they collapsed.
Saylor simply exhaled and stepped forward.
Into the mist.
---
Memories blurred.
A thousand lifetimes flickered behind his eyes — not his own.
Warriors.
Scholars.
Betrayers.
Kings.
All swallowed by a system he couldn't yet name.
The mist thickened.
The world disappeared.
---
In the silence, a voice spoke:
> You have been selected, Saylor Cogni.
Welcome to the Broken Field.