The young man clenched his fists, wanting to punch the old man who looked like a homeless drunk and had just called out to him. A few others followed him without hesitation, and the three elders standing nearby didn't seem like a threat. In fact, they looked oddly calm. You didn't need to be a genius to know the attackers were about to get destroyed.
"These must be the Fallen," I thought, remembering the inscription I had read earlier. I watched carefully, my eyes wide with curiosity and excitement, especially now that I was only ten steps away from the action.
The group of attackers was just five steps away when one of the three elders, who hadn't said a word until now, slowly lifted his head.
"You did me wrong."
His voice was quiet but sharp. It was the kind of line you'd hear from a drunk in a tavern, sitting in the corner with his drink. But the moment the words came out of his mouth, something strange happened.
The group stopped moving.
They were frozen in place, looking confused, like they wanted to keep going but just… couldn't.
"You did me wrong."
"You did me wrong."
"You did me wrong."
All three elders repeated the same sentence over and over, walking slowly toward the frozen group. The attackers couldn't move, couldn't run, couldn't even speak. Some of them tried to step back, but it was too late.
I stared, completely focused. These men had rushed toward the elders with greed and desperation, thinking they were easy targets. But it was a trap. A strange, soul-crushing trap. While the three elders moved among the crowd, still mumbling the same words, I noticed something odd: a brand-name wine bottle was floating above each victim's head.
Minutes passed. Then half an hour. The attackers were sweating, their faces red. Their legs shook as they stood there, unable to escape. The only sound was the repeated phrase: "You did me wrong."
After about an hour, one of the attackers collapsed. He dropped like a lifeless sack of potatoes, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
That was all it took. Like the first drop of rain before a storm, the others started falling too—one after another, like ripe fruit dropping from a tree.
Soon, the ground was covered in bodies. Everyone in the group had fallen—except one. The young man who had led them was still standing, but he was barely holding on. He was breathing heavily, trembling, his eyes filled with fear.
"You did me wrong."
"You did me wrong."
"You did me wrong."
The three elders had gathered around him, making him the center of their strange chant. It was like a drunken performance, mocking and terrifying at the same time. The young man couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed face-first into the dust, just like the others.
Then, as if nothing had happened, one of the elders turned toward me and smiled.
"Young friend, don't you want to join us?" he asked kindly. "We have a piece of bread and a bottle of wine. We'd be happy to share it with everyone!"
I froze.
My stomach twisted in fear. They were talking to me. Me!
I quickly looked around, hoping they were speaking to someone else. But no… I was alone. And worse—I realized I had stepped outside the protective shield without even knowing it.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
When had I crossed the blue, icy barrier? I turned around and saw I was already three feet outside the safe zone. I had been so caught up in what I was watching that I hadn't even noticed.
"You did me wrong."
"You did me wrong."
"You did me wrong."
No way! They were already starting their chant again—just as I took my first step. My heart pounded as I tried to move my legs. I had to run. If I stayed here, I'd end up just like the others: crushed by guilt and fear.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to move. My brain screamed at my body: RUN! NOW!
"Slow down, friend!"
"What's your hurry?"
"Look ahead, buddy!"
Their voices echoed in my ears as I stumbled forward. I crashed into something hard and fell to the ground. For a moment, I thought I had died. But then I opened my eyes and saw people—lots of them.
Some were lying on the ground, just like me. Others were standing, confused. Everyone looked panicked.
I jumped to my feet and spun around, trying to understand what was happening. And then—I saw it. The line of people standing at the far end of the inscription zone. I had somehow ended up back there.
"Sorry!"
"I'm so sorry!"
I quickly apologized to everyone I had bumped into. I didn't care about the embarrassment—I was just happy to be alive.
I turned away from the crowd and made my way back to where I had first woken up. The protective shield here was different. It shimmered like yellow fabric, touching the ground and rising up to the ceiling. It was right next to the blue area where the alcohol-based Fallen were. In fact, if you stood at the edge, you could see both zones at once.
That's when I noticed something truly strange. The mobs in the two areas were only a couple of inches apart—but they never crossed the line.
It seemed there was an unspoken rule among the Fallen. They each had their own territory and didn't interfere with each other's zones.
If they did, chaos would break loose. Especially here. Because the Fallen in the yellow zone were terrifying—even worse than the last group.
"Glue Sniffer LVL 1!"
"Thinner Addict LVL 1!"
"Lighter Gas Addict LVL 1!"
These weren't just names. They were warnings.
Right next to the land of the drunk, this zone was filled with mobs controlled by synthetic drugs. And even from behind the protective barrier, I could feel their madness. Their auras gave me goosebumps. They looked like nightmares—people screaming, shaking, completely out of control.
I hadn't seen how the chaos had started, but it was clear what was happening now. Victims were trapped here, just like in the blue zone. They stood frozen, faces twisted in terror.
Above their heads was a black face—vague, ghostly. The mouth was wide open, like it was screaming. Just like the others, these people had lost control of their bodies. They were being controlled by something else. Something evil.
Not long after, they started collapsing—just like before. They dropped to the ground, one after another, and vanished shortly afterward.
This time, I was more careful. I checked my surroundings every thirty seconds, making sure I stayed inside the shield. There was no way I was going to make the same mistake again.
There's a saying about a grasshopper that jumps twice—but I wasn't planning to test that right now.
I looked around, unsure whether to explore the remaining two areas or return to the shops by the inscription.
It had only been two hours, but the number of people inside the shield had already been cut in half.