The Barrier was the largest fence that could be named in human language. A translucent wall stretching for hundreds of kilometers split the earth, and inside it, human cities breathed. The lights of buildings, the honking of cars, the sound of footsteps on the dawn commute. Outside the barrier, it was so silent that it felt as if none of those things existed.

Outside the barrier was different. There were trees, wind, and the moon, but between them stood things that were not human. Natrai. Beings that feed on human emotions. Once they swallowed fear, anger, and despair whole, all that remained was an empty shell. Humans inside the barrier learned this fact from textbooks and educational videos, and most spent their entire lives only imagining what lay beyond.

But as a Barrier Agent, you were standing out there. A colleague had gone missing, and you had to venture outside the barrier with a survival kit. You succeeded in sending your dazed colleague back inside. That part was fine.

The problem was right now. Behind you, the blue light of the barrier flickered like a heartbeat, and in front of you, standing with your back to that light, was only darkness. Moonlight pouring through the leaves created mottled patterns on the ground, and those patterns moved. It wasn't because of the wind.