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The world ended not with a bang, but with a sudden, sickening jolt as the shackles on Rudo’s hands gave way. One moment, he was standing at the edge of the Abyss, his heart a raw, bleeding wound from the betrayal of Chiwa and the memory of Regto lying bleeding on the ground, dying.
The next, he was falling.
The wind tore at him, a physical force intent on ripping him apart. The stench of falling trash around him—a miasma of decay, refuse, and things far worse—assaulted his senses. The fall was endless, a dizzying, terrifying plunge into the world of the discarded. Sometime during the fall he lost consciousness after seeing a gigantic, mysterious creature while passing through the border.
After waking up he could feel the pain in his lungs and a white-hot spear of agony in his right leg. He lay there, for what felt like hours, amidst a sea of forgotten refuse, his body broken and his spirit shattered.
The air appeared to be poisonous. Breathing felt like a torture. Like drinking acid.
Even so the silence was the worst part.
The bustling cacophony of the city was gone, replaced by a deep, oppressive quiet punctuated only by the distant, inhuman groans of something moving in the deeper darkness. The air was thick and heavy, and the feeble light from above was swallowed by the shadows, leaving him in a perpetual twilight. How did he survive in the first place? A fall from this height should’ve killed him instantly. And he deserved that for sure. Regto was dead now and Rudo didn’t do anything to prevent that - what kind of son was he?
He didn’t want to live with the grief of losing his father - in fact he couldn’t at all.
But that didn’t matter now, he was going to die here for sure, alone, a piece of forgotten junk like everything else around him.
But he didn’t.
He was in and out of consciousness, drifting between the torment of his injuries and the numbing despair in his heart. At some point, he felt hands on him. Not rough hands, but cool, gentle ones that moved with a practiced, unsettling grace. He tried to fight them, but his body was too weak by now. He only managed to grunt as the hands carefully lifted him.
When he woke up again, he found himself lying in a soft bed with sheets that were nicer than everything he ever used to sleep in. Through a haze of pain he saw other people.
A blonde man whose skin was decorated by numerous red and black tattoos was looming over him. His face was sculpted, handsome in a way that felt almost unnatural, and his golden eyes held a calm, calculating intelligence. Nonetheless his lips curled into an easy, carefree smirk.
“Well now,” the man murmured, his voice a smooth, confident baritone. “Look at what the Abyss dragged in. A Spherite by the looks of it. We don’t get to see your kind alive here often.”
What did that even mean? Were there others like him?
Beside him stood two younger persons. One was a girl, who leaned onto a nearby table, with a careless grin on her face, her long red hair tied up in messy buns. Her green eyes, though, held a dangerous spark that belied her easygoing expression. The other was a boy who held a staff in his hands. He wore a perfectly straight posture and a perpetually bored expression, his gaze fixed on Rudo's beloved gloves with a hint of eager curiosity.
“He's clinging to what appears to be a Jinki, Enjin,” the boy said, his voice as flat and emotionless as his face. “How quaint. He thinks it’s a part of him.”
Rudo’s mind screamed at the audacity.
You know nothing about me, how dare you take the right to judge me? he wanted to shout, but he couldn't find his voice. The world spiraled away, and he fell back into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.
He awoke once more in a place that defied all the grim expectations he had of the Abyss. It looked like the inside of a normal house, not as shabby as their place back home. The walls were smooth and clean, illuminated by a soft, warm light from luminous fungi that clung to the ceiling. The air was free of the stench he smelled when he first arrived in the place on the Ground, replaced by the faint, earthy smell of the fungi and the sweet, metallic tang of something else—something he couldn’t place.
He was lying on a makeshift bed of soft, clean fabrics. The pain in his leg was a dull throb rather than a searing fire. When he looked down, he saw that the deep gash was wrapped in a neat, professional-looking bandage. He never received medical attention like this before. It even prickled slightly. That was a good sign, right?
A small, wooden table beside the bed held a bowl of clear water and a piece of hard, stale bread. Still better than most of the stuff they had in the slums. He was confused why they had food on the ground in the first place.
The blonde from earlier was there, sitting in a chair next to him as if he were a king rather than a normal person. He smiled faintly. “Welcome back to the waking world, kid. We weren’t sure you’d make it. That fall should have torn you to pieces.”
Rudo shared the sentiment, he didn’t know how he was alive either. When he tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness forced him back down. “Who… who are you?” he managed to rasp.
“I am Enjin. In this house live… the Cleaners,” he said, the smugness now more apparent in his voice. “Though not like the ones you probably knew. We… clean up the mess down here.”
Rudo was rather confused. If the Sphere’s trash went to the Abyss - then where would the Abyss’ trash go? The man made it sound as if they weren't garbage men, but something else entirely.
On the other hand he felt as if interrupting Enjin wouldn’t be a good idea though and let that thought pass.
That was the start of it. For weeks, they nursed him back to health. It appeared to be that Enjin was the leader, calm and confident, giving orders with a lax authority that everyone obeyed.
The two teenagers, Riyou and Zanka, were a constant, unsettling presence. Riyou would bring him his food, an easygoing smile on her face, but there was a predatory glint in her eyes. Zanka, on the other hand, was always quiet, his mocking disdain expressed in subtle gestures and whispered comments.
There were others too. A gentle man named Gris, who would bring him water and sit with him from time to time, his presence a comforting balm in the strange house. It felt a bit, as if he had his father back - if only for a short amount of time. And there was another boy, Follo, who seemed to be a tad meeker than the rest of the group, his eyes wide and curious as he watched Rudo. Follo was the only one who seemed truly kind, and Rudo found himself drawn to the boy, a small glimmer of human connection in this strange place.
In contradiction to his expectations all of them were rather nice towards him. Quickly, after being able to leave the bed on his own again, Riyou took him aside and gave him a haircut.
She complimented his fancy white hair with black tips - it was something so delightful, since he could only barely remember the last compliment that he ever got. It was from Chiwa probably, but the name alone left an ashen aftertaste on his tongue now.
The redhead took great care of his hair and seemed really skilled in handling her scissors. After turning into a blushing mess from her constant teasing and loving jabs, she took it upon herself to show him every room and corner of their accomodation and often included him in general group activities such as game nights and reading together in the living room at nighttime.
Usually, someone of the group read stories to Rudo, as his reading skills weren’t the greatest. But all of them insisted on him reading from time to time to improve his reading ability. That meant that they took a few weeks to finish one book sometimes, yet nobody ever complained (not even Zanka, which made Rudo a bit suspicious to be honest).
On the journey to his recovery Rudo started to grow stronger. He watched the Cleaner's members come and go, moving with an unknown speed that made them blur around the edges of his vision. Were they machines or what?
They would bring back junk sometimes, but they didn’t seem interested in stuff that was inherently labeled as „valuable“. Instead, they’d focus on the more organic refuse and … cleaning stuff? Old bones, rotting fabrics, soaps or brushes - you name it. They would meticulously sort through it all, sometimes muttering in a language Rudo couldn't seem to understand. Probably the languages from the Ground and Sphere had gone seperate ways at one point - he was surprised they were able to understand eachother in the first place.
“What are you doing?” he asked Zanka one night, as the boy carefully scrubed the staff-thing he always carried with him. In a way he was surprisingly gentle - he couldn’t remember Zanka making an expression as loving as he was doing right now.
Zanka looked up, a smirk gracing his lips. “What does it look like? We are taking care of our most important things. Everything down here has a purpose, a future. Even the discarded.” His gaze flickered to Rudo, a subtle, sneering emphasis on the last word.
This gave Rudo a flicker of hope. These people weren't like the humans he knew from above. They didn't care about money or status. They seemed to genuinely see value in things - even the discarded or broken ones. He felt a sense of belonging growing in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t had since losing Regto.
Surprisingly Zanka offered him a piece of cloth and Rudo took the opportunity to sit next to him and clean his beloved gloves - he couldn’t remember when he had done this the last time.
Once he took off his piece of clothing, Zanka stole a surprised glance at his bandaged hands and forearms, but said nothing about it as the two continued to work in comfortable silence.
But then, he started to notice that some things were sort of strange.
The first thing was the blood. On his request he went trash-diving every waking moment he found the time to do so and was usually accompanied by at least one other person.
He took joy in finding new treasures or putting old things together and it was the same for the Cleaners in a way.
One day, while going out to some trash fields with Follo, he stumbled clumsily and scraped his hand on a jagged piece of metal. It wasn't a bad cut, just a small trickle of red. Follo, who was across the trash field mere moments ago, appeared beside him in a flash, his kind attitude replaced by a look of terrifying focus. His eyes, usually gentle and benevolent, were now filled with black dilated pupils, hungry pools fixed on the drops of blood welling on his skin. Follos nostrils flared slightly, and he took a sharp, audible intake of breath. For a terrifying second, Rudo thought he was going to lunge at him.
Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the look vanished. He blinked, his expression returning to its compassionate self. “Careful there, Rudo,” he said, his voice now a little strained, while he handed him a band-aid. “You’re still fragile.”
He was too shaken to ask about it. He just nodded, his heart hammering in his chest.
Maybe some things were just different on the Ground from the world above? But why didn’t they tell him how things worked here?
He felt a certain type of kinship with these people - they rescued him after all. But in moments ike this, they also scared him.
The second thing was their diet. They never ate with him. He’d be given bread and water or something else when they found it or went to town. They’d sit with him, watching him eat, but never partaking themselves.
Occasionally they even went to town together and got supplies there. Going shopping was a complety new experience for Rudo as they didn't go out in the slums to buy stuff - aside from the bare necessities.
They were really nice about his cluelessness though and showed him every exciting item they could find in the marketplace. Curious technology and trinkets he had never seen before.
And food as well. They didn’t touch the food themselves, but handed Rudo new snacks like it was a competition.
Candied fruit from Enjin? Check.
An apple pastry from Riyou? Check.
Glowing mushrooms from Follo? Check - sure they were kinda weird, like could you eat them that raw? They were tasty though.
Teas and other drinks from Gris? Check. They made him feel oddly relaxed after drinking, but that might've been due to the luxury of being able to consume things like this now.
Bacon grill sticks from Zanka? Check. Maybe the timing was a bit weird as he got them just a few moments after a bunch of vendors got to interested in him and his heritage a bit too much, but he didn't find the time to care about it at the time.
One time he asked Gris what the round colourful, little balls in a certain food stall were and the man nearly cried.
Rudo wanted to cry as well, after trying the newly bought treats for the first time as he realized he had been missing out on the things called candies for the last fifteen years.
Everybody was amazed, yet horrified at the revelation since Rudo turned into an unstoppable gremlin after consuming sugar.
Thank you for the discovery, Gris.
When Rudo asked why they never seemed to eat, Gris would simply smile.
“We have our own ways of sustaining ourselves down here,” he would say, and the conversation would end.
He really wondered how they did it? Were they like plants? Those didn’t need to eat too - since you just needed to water them. But could humans work the same?
He wanted to ask them about it so badly, but was scared to be scholded for being such an idiot. Maybe it was common knowledge actually? His life in the slums sadly hadn't provided him with the best education possible.
The third was the light. They hated the light from above. Whenever a stray beam of sunlight managed to pierce the cloud cover and make its way into the Abyss, they would retreat into their rooms, hissing softly. Their skin would seem to glow faintly, like a firefly during a summers night. It was a fleeting reaction, but it was enough to unsettle him.
Gris and Follo seemed to be a bit more tolerant, but even they would shrink away from the light. It was as if they were burned - which was possible of course (Rudo knew that much!). But usually that only happened after being in the sun unprotected for a longer time.
Maybe they just had really sensitive skin?
It was strange - that much was apparent.
They didn't have problems during the night or when it was cloudy - it seemed rather enjoyable to them to be honest.
One time Rudo climbed onto the roof and tried to watch the nightsky - sadly he could see nothing but endless darkness as he looked up.
After hearing a faint rustle he noticed that Enjin had approached him.
„What are you doing here all on your own?“, the older asked curious.
Rudo pouted slightly. He didn’t get to the thing he initially wanted to see.
„I was looking for the stars“, he admitted sullen.
Enjins eyes seemed to sparkle in the nighttime „What? Those are real? Why don’t you tell me about them?“
And the boy did. He talked about great heroes and disastrous monsters who got put into the veil of stars in the end. The older listened attentively, apparently having heard some of the myths before, but never seen the stars themselves.
At one time Rudo just started to pour his heart out in general. He talked about the unfairness of the Sphere, their overconsumption, their system in general - and how the only good human thing above is was Regto.
Their talk streched for so long that there was a semblance of a sunrise visible in the sky, only then did Rudo fall asleep unknowingly taking his nap leaned on Enjins shoulder.
But the feeling of unease grew, a cold knot in the pit of his stomach. He started to pay closer attention to their movements, their habits. He noticed they were most active at night, their senses appeared to be heightened in the darkness. While spying through his bedroom window he saw them moving huge pieces of trash around with a casual, brutal strength that no ordinary human could possess. Who could singlehandedly carry a freezer?
Like Gris, what the hell?
His suspicion culminated one evening when he wandered through the halls of their residence and found a hidden study. He had followed Enjin one night after he had left his bed to go to the bathroom initially, but was intrigued by the other being awake as well. He had seen him disappear behind a false wall next to the training room, and the next day, while they were gone to sell some things in town, Rudo found the hidden latch and slipped inside.
At first he had felt betrayed that they no longer took him with them for all their tours to town, but sometimes they said that it was „just too dangerous“ or „something secret“ so he couldn’t come with them.
Sometimes he suspected their behavior was due to an unfortunate event where Rudo had almost robbed an ice cream stall, after having had ice cream for the first time and going absolutely crazy, but not having any money left to actually pay the vendor.
On the other hand, that gave him the opportunity to take a look around the house during those times - which was interesting as well.
The room was filled with books. Old, leather-bound tomes that smelled of dust and ancient secrets. They had have lots of books in the living room, but none had been like this. He began to rifle through them, his hands trembling. Most were in a language he couldn’t read, but one, an old, water-damaged journal, with a curious trinity symbol on the front was in his native tongue. It was a diary, the faded ink telling the story of a man who had wandered the Abyss centuries ago and had been taken in by the so-called “nightfolk.”
The journal detailed the man’s initial gratitude, his slow-growing fear, and the final, horrifying realization. He described their inhuman strength, their sensitivity to light, their strange diet, and the almost-hypnotic allure of their voices. He spoke of the blood, and how they would tend to his wounds with a horrifying hunger in their eyes.
He spoke of how he had seen them feasting on the energy of humans and objects alike, their bodies a blur of motion as they drained the life from the discarded.
He didn’t know what that man really saw to form descriptions like this, but one thing was for sure.
Rudo's blood ran cold. He knew what the book was talking about: Vampires. But were they truly real? Rudo only knew them from bedtime stories Regto occasionally read to him.
The vile word screamed in his mind, and all the little details clicked into place with sickening clarity. Enjin's lax attitude that still convinced everybody to do his biddings, Riyou's smile that had a tad too sharp teeth to be considered normal, Zanka's eyes that glowed too bright when focused on things that interested him, Gris cold hands when he tugged him in at night, Follo's constant ignorance of a human diet, the sweet, metallic tang in the air, the way their eyes had focused on his blood, the way they hid from the sun, the impossible speed… it all made sense.
They weren’t benevolent saviors.
They were something else entirely. Monsters.
He dropped the journal and stumbled out of the study, the house he wanted to call his home by now, suddenly feeling like a cage.
He had to get out.
He had to run.
But where could he go?
He was somewhere in the heart of the Abyss, a world rather unknown to him, surrounded by creatures of myth and nightmare.
Maybe he could get to the next town and hide there? Surely the Cleaners wouldn’t search for him forever, right?
There was just no comprehensible reason for them to do so.
Maybe he would get lucky and someone else would take him in? And if not he could survive on his own for sure - he lived his whole life in the slums after all.
He didn't get far though.
As he limped towards the entrance (his leg wasn’t as healed as he had hoped by now), he stumbled into Enjin, Riyou, and Zanka, who seemed to return early from their tour. Their faces were impassive, but their eyes held a strange mix of sorrow and a terrible, predatory calm.
“Where do you think you're going,” Enjin asked, his voice stripped of its usual playfulness, revealing a colder, more ancient quality.
Riyou’s easy smile was gone, replaced by a chillingly predatory smirk. “We had hoped to spare you this, Rudo. The truth is a heavy burden.”
Rudo’s heart pounded against his ribs. How could he be just that level of unlucky?
“You’re… you’re not human,” he whispered, the words catching in his throat.
Enjin stepped closer, his movements smooth as silk. “Not in the way you understand it, no. We are the discarded from society, just like you. But we were cast away long, long ago, but through cursed objects we gained powers beyond comprehension. Now we are the things the world forgot, the things stories warn you about.”
He gestured to the walls around them. “We have been here for generations, living among the refuse, feeding on the remains of life-force from the trash or drifters. But we don’t really kill. We take only what is already lost. We are the Cleaners of the Abyss after all - what do you think this world would look like without us?”
Rudo shook his head, his mind reeling. He just wanted to be left alone.
“You… you tricked me. You made me trust you.”
Zanka finally spoke, his mocking tone now a low, serious rumble.
“We did not trick ya, ya idiot. We saved ya. We nursed ya back to health. We saw something in ya we haven’t seen in a very long time. Ya surviving the fall from the Sphere unscathed isn’t exactly normal. Your Jinki… it sings with a power we haven’t felt in centuries. Ya are a living font of raw, unadulterated energy, don’t ya feel it?”
“You’re… you’re just going to use me,” Rudo whispered scared, feeling the raw edge of betrayal cutting deeper than any wound.
Enjin’s smug smile returned, full of a terrifying certainty. “No, Rudo. You misunderstood. We don’t want to use you. We are not like the monsters of the old world. We have evolved. We don’t just take; we are Givers essentially. We are a family, and you are a part of it now. We tended to your wounds, didn’t we? With our own… ahem…let’s say: medicines?” He looked pointedly at the bandages on the boys leg.
Rudo’s eyes widened in horror. He remembered feeling a strange, tingling warmth when they had applied the poultices. He had thought it was just some bizarre fungal trash medicine from the Ground. Now, he knew it was something else. Something far more intimate and terrifying.
He had been healed by their blood.
So he was bound to them now.
Tears prickled in his red eyes.
“You’re not going to let me go,” he wailed, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
Suddenly his knees buckled - the weight on his shoulders seemed unbearable in that moment. He knelt on the floor, but his whole body seemed to become heavier with each passing second.
Riyou and Zanka stepped forward as well, their usual facades completely gone. Now Riyou's smile was a promise of violence, and Zanka's eyes were filled with a chilling, possessive hunger.
Riyou bend down to meet the white-haired blurry boys eyes with her own.
“We cannot let you go,” Riyou said, her voice now a low purr while extending her hand to pet his soft hair. “You know our secret. You have been brought into our fold. And besides… why would you want to leave? The world above cast you out, labeled you as a criminal. They would tear you apart, if you ever find a way to ascend back to the Sphere. There is nobody waiting for you anyways. Down here, you are safe. You are one of us. You have a family. And we don’t let go of our family, Rudo. Not before, not now, not ever.”
The truth was a cold, iron chain around his heart.
He was trapped.
He looked at Enjin’s smug, satisfied expression, inspired by Riyous talk and he knew they spoke the truth.
They were not malicious creatures, but they were not human either.
They were a family of the night, and he was now a member of their strange, eternal circle.
The Abyss was no longer just a pit of never-ending garbage, but a gilded cage, and he was its newest, most prized songbird. He had fallen into the world of the Discarded, only to be found by those who had been disposed and lost long, long ago, and now he knew that he would never see the light of the Sphere ever again.