It was evening, a moment poised between beginning and end, when light yields to shadow and the world holds its breath.
In the west, a red, dying sun bathed the earth in its true crimson light, deeper than the blood that flows through all. From the east, the moon rose—newborn and cold— casting a pale, quiet grace over the waiting world.
A young man with a rawboned body and dark circles under his eyes sat on a bench, facing the dying sun. He held a sketchbook, drawing a bizarre entity, his favorite pastime. As he worked, he began to doze off in his seat.
"Oh no... I forgot my pills."
As he spoke, he visibly grew sleepier. His vision began to darken, and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. His eyelids grew heavy, making it a struggle to keep his eyes open. He fought against his urge to sleep, not wanting to confront the memories he desperately wished to forget—his own death and the loss of his family. A true nightmare.
But it was already too late. Despite his struggles to resist, he finally succumbed and fell asleep.
Deep in his dream, he saw his younger self sitting in the back seat of a beast carriage, accompanied by his father and older sister. They were talking, laughing, and reminiscing about the past. Suddenly, his dream shifted, and he found himself staring at the lifeless bodies of his father, sister, and himself sprawled on the road, the carriage utterly crushed.
Illuminated by the crimson light of the dying sun, as red as the blood of his family spilled on the road, his dream was steeped in sorrow.
"Hey. Hey kid, wake up. Jasmine, I brought you some coffee for you."
The voice echoed through Jay's mind, dragging him from the depths of sleep.
"Ah… sorry, Mr. Hank. I guess I dozed off."
"Hah, it's alright, kid. You've got every reason to be tired. It's your first mission, after all—and we've been chasing that thing for hours."
Mr. Hank was Jay's mentor—a towering figure in his thirties, built like a giant at nearly nine feet tall. Or maybe he was a giant. No... a half-giant, perhaps.
His thick mustache was almost as large as his heart, and his smile along with his burn marks were enough to frighten any kid he met. But not Jay. To him, Mr. Hank seemed the most warm and funny person.
He had been looking after Jay ever since the accident that took his family.
He always wore circular sunglasses, even at night. Jay once heard from Martha that they were a keepsake from Mr. Hank's father, a gift given just before their home was engulfed in a deadly fire. Mr. Hank was the only one who survived.
Jay recalled Martha saying, "He came out of the burning house holding those sunglasses after being awakened, with those burn marks as his mark of rebirth. Maybe that's why he cares for you so much—perhaps he sees himself in you."
He stood there holding two cups of coffee, a giant weapon wrapped in a single white cloth
resting on his shoulder—almost as large as he was.
As Mr. Hank handed Jay his coffee, he slid the weapon off his shoulder and lowered it to the ground, using the bench for support.
The moment it touched down, a heavy metallic clang rang out. Jay looked down to find the ground cracked and half of the bench handle crushed beneath its weight.
"What! Just how heavy is that axe?"
"Around a couple of tons," came the calm reply.
"A couple of tons? And you casually wield that?"
"Something like that."
'What do you mean, 'something like that'? That's inhuman.' Jay thought, utterly stunned.
Mr. Hank sat down beside him and took a slow sip of his coffee.
"The Lotus Tower looks beautiful from here," he murmured, eyes on the horizon.
He glanced sideways at Jay, noting the sweat on his brow and the dark circles under his eyes.
"Are you alright, Jasmine?" he asked gently.
Jay hesitated, then gave a sheepish smile. "Please, Mr. Hank, just call me Jay."
"What's there to be embarrassed about?" Mr. Hank replied with a playful grin. "I think it's a beautiful name."
"Thanks, Mr. Hank." Jay looked down, trying to hide his flushed cheeks.
Mr. Hank leaned back, his tone softening. "Was it another nightmare?"
Jay hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "No, I... I was just thinking about my family. We had dinner together, peaceful for once. Watched some TV, laughed a lot... and, and..."
His voice cracked. He gritted his teeth as tears welled up in his eyes.
"And the day they died... was the day I died too—only to be reborn as an awakened. Sometimes I wonder why I lived and they didn't. Why someone as useless as me survived... but not my sister."
Mr. Hank watched the sun dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of red and gold.
"Do you know why the symbol of the awakened is the evening?" he asked quietly.
Jay shook his head. "No, sir. I don't."
"Look at the sky, Jay," Mr. Hank said, his voice thoughtful. "The crimson light holds both a dying sun and a newborn moon. It's neither day nor night. Just like us awakened—rejected by life, but not yet claimed by death. That's why it's our symbol. It lives between two opposites. We live between two opposites. That is our fate, and our curse."
He took another sip of coffee and added with a smile, "Now, quit brooding and drink up. Your coffee's going cold."
Startled, Jay quickly took a gulp.
"Ugh, bitter."
Mr. Hank chuckled. "Hahaha... A true gentleman should know how to handle bitter coffee."
His eyes drifted to the sketch pad in Jay's lap. "By the way, what is that... thing?"
Jay straightened a little, defensive. "It's not that bad, Mr. Hank. It's a giant baby that vomits worms and devours everything in its path."
Mr. Hank raised an eyebrow, expression unreadable.
"That's... quite a strange hobby you have there."
"Bzzz. Bzzz."
Mr. Hank's communication device buzzed to life.
"Captain, we've located the target," came Martha's voice through the weird device.
"Got it, Martha," Mr. Hank replied calmly.
He turned to Jay with a smirk. "Alright, kid. Time for your first mission."
Without a moment's hesitation, Mr. Hank slung his weapon over his shoulder, then wrapped one arm firmly around Jay's waist.
"Wait, wha—?!"
Before Jay could react, they shot into the air.
"AHHHHHHHHH...!" Jay's scream echoed across the sky.
Mr. Hank soared with supernatural agility, clearing several houses in a single powerful leap. The ground vanished beneath them as the world became a blur of motion and color. Wind roared in Jay's ears, rooftops flashing past in dizzying streaks, as if they were flying rather than jumping.
"Me... Mr. Hank, stop!" Jay shouted, clinging desperately to him. "I told you—I'm afraid of heights!"
Mr. Hank laughed. "Afraid of this? You're an awakened, kid!"
But despite Jay's frantic pleas, Mr. Hank didn't stop. He kept bounding across the city, each leap more breathtaking than the last, until they finally reached their destination.
***
In front of an abandoned factory, a group of three stood guard—each equipped with high-quality armor and advanced weapons.
"So, where's the captain?" asked the woman in light armor. A bow was slung over her back, and a pair of daggers rested at her hips.
"I just informed him—he's on his way," Martha replied.
Martha, the group's Mystical Art specialist and vice-captain of their team known as The Highest Peak.
"Then I'll scout the area again," said Ralo the scout before vanishing in a blur of motion.
"Man, he's so fast… I barely caught a glimpse of him," the archer murmured in awe.
A few moments later, something came crashing down from the sky with a loud thud. Dust erupted on impact, swirling through the air before slowly settling.
"Cough! Cough! I thought I was gonna die!" Jay's voice trembled as he staggered to his feet.
"Poor kid," the archer said, eyeing him with sympathy.
"Hey!" Martha snapped, turning to Hank. "Why are you dragging a kid through the sky like that?"
"He's not a kid—he's a man now. It's nothing," Mr. Hank replied nonchalantly.
Martha crossed her arms, clearly exasperated. She knew arguing with Mr. Hank was pointless.
"Whatever. Ralo's already inside, scouting the area."
"So, the target's in there?" Mr. Hank asked, nodding toward the factory.
"Yes. Ralo confirmed it—it's a Shadow Walker."
"A Shadow Walker? That's a threat level 2, right?"
"Are they dangerous, sir?" Jay asked, still unfamiliar with the ranking system.
Mr. Hank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, yes. The threat level measures a monster's strength and destructiveness. A level 1 threat could kill an ordinary person. One awakened would usually be enough to handle that. But for a level 2…"
"For level 2," Martha interrupted, "you'd need either a squad of bronze-rank awakened or a single silver-rank. They can destroy an entire city block if left unchecked."
"They really are that powerful," Jay said in awe.
"Exactly. A standard squad for this type of mission requires at least two bronze-rank six stars," the archer added.
"But don't worry, kid," Mr. Hank said with a confident grin. "I'm Silver rank, nine stars. Martha and the others are at seven."
"Then enough talking—it's time to move," Mr. Hank said, stepping forward. But he paused and glanced back. "Wait, Jay—you remember the three rules I told you when facing danger, right?"
"Yes, sir," Jay replied quickly. "Never let your guard down, always enhance your strength and perception using battle arts, and if the enemy is too strong… run."
"Good. But remember, knowing the rules is one thing—acting on them is what matters," Mr. Hank said with a nod. "If you're ready, let's go."
They entered the abandoned factory cautiously. The crumbling walls were coated in thick moss, giving the space an eerie, overgrown look. Faint light from the dying sun filtered through the shattered roof, casting long, jagged shadows across the debris-strewn floor.
Crimson rays illuminated floating dust particles, dancing through the stale air like ghostly fireflies. The rest of the factory was shrouded in darkness. Every corner seemed to whisper secrets, and the silence was broken only by the distant sound of dripping water. It felt as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting.
The O.R.D.E.R. categorized every awakened based on a class chosen during training, and their combat roles followed accordingly.
Mr. Hank, a Fighter, led the group from the front. As a frontliner, his immense strength and durability—combined with mastery of battle arts—made him a natural leader in battle.
Behind him followed the Archer, nimble and alert, and then Martha, the range attacker. Jay walked beside her, still new to it all. His control over spiritual energy was weak, and he lacked both battle art and mystical art proficiency.
[Battle Arts: Sensory Enhancement]
Mr. Hank activated a technique to heighten all five of his senses. He scanned the dark interior carefully.
"A perfect hiding spot for a Shadow Walker," he muttered.
"I heard they're terrifying," Jay whispered.
"Oh, they are," Mr. Hank replied. "They can make even seasoned warriors tremble—not because of how they look, but because of their ability: shadow manipulation."
"I read about that," Jay said quickly. "They can control shadows, shape them into weapons, and even travel between them, right?"
"Exactly. Looks like you've been studying," Martha said, a proud smile on her face.
"Hopefully, you're training your battle arts too," she added with a wink.
"Hah… I'm not really good with battle arts," Jay admitted, scratching his head.
"Hey, he's going to be a sorcerer," the archer chimed in. "Why would he need battle arts?"
"Even so, battle arts are very—" Mr. Hank began, then paused, noticing Martha's sharp glare.
The archer smirked. "You two bicker like a married couple."
"We are not!" both Mr. Hank and Martha shouted in unison.
"If you say so," the archer teased, chuckling to herself—but wisely dropped the subject, knowing better than to push Martha too far.
Suddenly, Jay noticed something strange: a thin veil was spreading across the area.
"Mr. Hank! What's that?" he shouted, panic rising in his voice.
Martha's eyes narrowed. "An isolation barrier," she said grimly. "It completely seals the area. No one gets in or out. We're trapped."
'But how can a Shadow Walker use a technique like that?' Mr. Hank thought, uneasy. 'They shouldn't have the intelligence for this.'
"So, how do we break it?" Jay asked.
"There are two options," Mr. Hank replied. "We either destroy the barrier—which is nearly impossible from the inside—or eliminate the caster. That also happens to be our mission."
"Then what's the issue?"
Mr. Hank sighed. "The issue is, a Shadow Walker shouldn't be capable of this. Something's off..."
His enhanced vision caught red droplets falling in the distance. His eyes widened.
"Is that… blood?"
He raised a hand, pointing toward a half-broken pillar cloaked in shadows. "Martha, check over there. Something's hiding."
She nodded silently.
[Mystical Art: Revealing the Unseen]
Martha released her spiritual energy, a liquid blue mist flowing from her body and spreading across the building. The mist touched the pillar—and then she froze.
A surge of horror washed over her. Her eyes welled with tears.
"R-Ralo... he's dead!"
"What?!"
[Elemental Art (Light): Illuminating Light]
Jena, the archer, unleashed a burst of light, flooding the building and driving back the shadows.
Jay's eyes widened in terror.
'That's… that's Ralo's head...'
A creature stood atop the ruined pillar. Humanoid, but monstrous. Its body was encased in obsidian-black armor. Its arms were grotesquely long, ending in claws like blades. Two jagged horns jutted from its head, and beneath them, where eyes should've been—only hollow, empty voids.
In one clawed hand, it held Ralo's severed head. Blood dripped steadily, pooling below.
Mr. Hank didn't hesitate. He reached over his shoulder and pulled away a white cloth, revealing a golden, single-edged axe.
[Battle Art: Mountain-Crushing Wave]
With a swing, Mr. Hank unleashed a roaring wave of energy. It ripped through the air, smashing the pillar to pieces and sending wind howling through the chamber.
'So this... this is the strength of a Level 18,' Jay thought, awe-struck. 'I didn't even see him move.'
Before the dust had settled, four glowing arrows flew in, exploding on impact.
"Is it dead yet?" Jena asked.
Mr. Hank's eyes narrowed. "No. It's gone."
The only thing left was Ralo's head—rolling across the ground toward them.
"You humans have no manners," a chilling voice echoed behind them. "I was enjoying my meal."
They turned. The creature now floated in midair.
"It can talk!" Jay gasped. "It's intelligent!"
"I've never heard of a Shadow Walker that could speak," Martha whispered.
"You misunderstand," the creature replied with a wicked grin. "I am not a Shadow Walker. I am a Shadowless."
Martha's face went pale. "N-No… It can't be. A Shadowless? That's a Tier 7 threat! A servant of the Abyss Lords! Only a platinum-ranked Awakened can handle something like this!"
Jena swiftly readied her bow.
"Jena, look out!" Mr. Hank shouted.
[Elemental Mystic Art: Shadow Manipulation – Shadow Jump]
The creature vanished into Jena's shadow—and reappeared behind her.
[Elemental Spirit Art: Shadow Blade]
A blade of pure shadow erupted from its arm and pierced through her back, its hand emerging from her chest clutching her heart.
Jay stood frozen as the creature pulled her heart free and devoured it. Jena's body crumpled to the ground.
[Elemental Art (Water): Mist Breath]
Martha released a thick mist from her mouth, obscuring the area. She rushed to Jay, pulling him into an embrace.
[Battle Art: Echolocation]
Martha activated her technique, the mist responding to her will as she gained the ability to sense both enemies and allies within it.
"Got you, you damn thing!"
Mr. Hank burst through the mist, leaping high into the air with his weapon raised. With a roar, he swung down with all his might.
[Skill: Shadow Manipulation – Shadow Tentacles]
From the creature's back, jet-black tendrils erupted like whips of darkness. They snaked through the air, wrapping around Mr. Hank mid-strike, halting him in place. His sunglasses clattered to the ground.
"Damn you, monster," he growled through clenched teeth.
"Oh? You're strong... A rarity among humans," the creature said mockingly.
"Don't get cocky. There are others—stronger than me."
The creature chuckled. "A race of weaklings who lost their souls long ago. You need to die just to reclaim them. How pitiful."
"Wh-What are you talking about?"
Confusion and dread twisted in Mr. Hank's chest. Everything he believed about being Awakened—as a divine gift, a second chance—was unraveling.
"Our souls have been stolen from us? What does that mean!?"
"Hahahaha... You don't even know? Then you're already too far gone," the creature said, its voice soaked in amusement.
"No! Mr. Hank!!"
Jay's scream tore through the mist.
"Now… die, human."
[Skill: Shadow Manipulation – Shadow Blade]
The shadows around the creature's hand solidified into a blade. Mr. Hank struggled, but the tentacles held fast. He could feel death creeping closer, inevitable and cold.
In those final moments, memories surged.
Father… it looks like we'll meet again soon. There's so much I wanted to tell you…
I won that gold medal at the school sports festival. I became an Awakened. I built a team—a family—just like you did. I even found someone I love… though I never got the chance to tell her. And… I found a son. My son.
His eyes turned to Jay. They held no fear, no sadness—only peace. A quiet, genuine smile spread across his face.
"I really love your name, Jasmine… My son."
The shadow blade plunged into Mr. Hank's left eye, erupting from the back of his skull. Crimson streamed down his face and neck as the creature pulled the blade free. Mr. Hank's body dropped lifelessly to the ground.
The monster grabbed his head, lifting the corpse up. Its monstrous jaw opened wide, biting into flesh with razor-sharp fangs. Blood poured down its chin.
"Disgusting... His taste is as weak as he was."
It turned its hollow eyes toward Jay.
"Well now... two more still breathing."
"Y-You… you monster! I-I'll—!"
Before Martha could react, a shadow tentacle struck her with terrifying speed.
Her head exploded on impact.
Blood erupted into the air like a geyser, then rained down, soaking Jay from head to toe in warm, thick crimson.
Jay stood frozen. His master—his hero—was gone. Devoured before his eyes. But what he felt wasn't grief.
It was… nothing.
No. Not nothing.
Something flickered deep within. Not fear. Not horror.
Desire.
His lips curled into a twisted smile.
'Mr. Hank is dead. Eaten right in front of me. But… I feel nothing. No sadness, no rage. Wait… there is something. What is this? It feels… incredible.
Yes. I've felt this before. That day… when I watched my sister die. No—when I killed her. When I saw her face, broken and full of despair. Then too, I… I felt it. I loved it.'
Jay's cheeks flushed, his breath heavy. Heat surged through his body as laughter bubbled up from deep within.
The creature tilted its head, intrigued.
"What an interesting human you are."
And then—
CRACK.
The isolation barrier shattered like brittle glass, the sound echoing through the ruined air.
"What the hell is going on here?"
A voice rang out from behind, followed by the appearance of a young man with a scarf draped loosely around his neck. He carried an air of profundity, his noble bearing undeniable. His dark golden hair contrasted starkly with his piercing purple eyes—eyes filled with an eerie, hollow eternity. If one stared too deeply into them, they might glimpse a devil seated upon a throne in the heart of an endless void.
"Ah, my luck is quite good today. It seems the food keeps coming to me," the creature said, grinning in wicked satisfaction.
"Food, you say?"
The young man's gaze locked onto the creature, eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up its prey.
[Demonic Arts: Aspect of the Devil – Demon Eye]
His terrifying purple eyes twisted further into something even more infernal. They pulsed with demonic essence so overwhelming that the creature instinctively leapt back.
What was that just now? Was that… fear?
The creature's thoughts trembled. It was unfathomable—a being it considered lesser had stirred fear in it.
No. That's impossible. It must be some kind of trick. A skill. Or perhaps an art meant to induce fear.
Regaining its confidence under the assumption it was merely being manipulated, the creature struck.
[Skill: Shadow Manipulation – Shadow Hands]
Dozens of dark hands surged up from the shadows, swarming toward the young man.
[Demonic Arts: Aspect of the Devil – Demon Claws]
In a blink, his right hand morphed into a monstrous, black armored claw. With a single, swift motion, he slashed through the shadow hands.
But the more he struck, the more they multiplied—doubling in number each time.
They're multiplying. How bothersome. Well… it doesn't matter.
His demonic claw pulsed with dark, arcane power. With one sweeping motion, he cleaved through every last hand—erasing them completely.
What?! Am I seeing this right? His claws didn't just slice through them—they nullified them!
The creature recoiled in disbelief. I guess… I have no choice. I'll have to use that.
Realizing its opponent was far stronger than anticipated, the creature activated its trump card.
[Abyssal Arts: Pit of the Abyss]
A massive shadow bled from beneath the creature's feet, devouring the area in suffocating darkness.
The young man's demonic power faded. His clawed arm reverted to flesh and bone.
It's suppressing my spiritual energy. I can't use any arts.
"You're an amusing one, kid," the creature sneered. "I'd love to play longer, but I have someone to find. So, let's end this quickly."
The creature leaned forward, readying to end the young man's life in one blow.
"I think that's enough."
A calm voice echoed from the distance—and in that instant, the creature's abyssal art shattered like brittle glass. Its body froze in place.
Wh-What? I can't move! A-A… and what is this presence? It's beyond anything I can even begin to comprehend…
Forcing its neck to turn, the creature looked toward the voice's source.
At the factory entrance stood a striking young man, radiant beneath the crimson hue of the dying sun. His fiery red hair burned with life, while his lime-green eyes seemed to cut through the shadows like blades of divine judgment.
He radiated an aura so overwhelming, so absolute, that even the monster—whose concept of beauty was alien to human standards—was entranced.
"How beautiful…" the creature whispered without thinking.
"Thank you. People always say that," the red-haired man replied nonchalantly.
In a blink, he was no longer at the entrance.
He stood between the creature and the young man.
When did he move? the creature thought, stunned.
"Wha—"
Before it could finish, its upper body erupted.
Blood, organs, and flesh splattered across the wall behind, painting it red with gore.
"You okay?" the red-haired man asked.
"I'm fine," the young man with the scarf responded.
Nearby, Jay stirred awake, groaning softly.
"Hello there," the red-haired man said, his voice calm yet meticulous. "I'm Albedo, and this guy beside me is my companion—Luke Grimdal."
"A-Albedo…" Jay's eyes widened in shock. "Y-you mean… Lord Albedo Samael, the Thirteenth-Headed King?!"
"Yup. That's me," Albedo replied with a smug grin.
"By the way, what happened here?"
"Wh-what do you mean? Eve… everything is just fine."
Jay burst into laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Hahahaha... ha... haaaaa…"
"…What's wrong with this guy?" Luke asked, raising a brow.
[Innate Ability: Nightmare – Embodiment of Disaster]
Jay's eyes turned pitch black. Blood oozed from their corners. Behind him, a massive, grotesque shadow took form.
"What… is that thing?"
"Oh my," Albedo said, eyes narrowing. "Looks like he possesses an innate ability."
"What? This guy has an innate ability?"
"Judging by that monster behind him, my best guess—it's summoning type."
The shadow morphed into a giant baby, grotesque and terrifying, towering over nearby buildings. It vomited writhing swarms of worms, and the moment they touched the ground, they began devouring everything—cars, trees, concrete, even steel.
"H-Hey, what the hell is that?!"
"M-Monsters! Run for your lives!!"
Chaos consumed the district. Screams echoed as civilians fled in sheer panic. The city block fell into total collapse.
"Disgusting," Luke spat. "How do we stop it? Those worms are eating everything."
"That is a problem," Albedo said calmly, completely unfazed. "But don't worry. I'll handle it."
[Draconic Art: Ice Dragon Heart – Frozen God's Temple]
With a single graceful wave of his hand, an enormous structure of ice materialized—an ornate, towering temple of glacial beauty. It descended with divine precision, sealing the monstrous baby and its writhing brood within.
"This will hold it… for now."
"What should we do next?" Luke asked, holding the unconscious Jay in his arms.
"Take him to a hospital. And contact Mira."
Luke nodded and vanished in an instant.
"…What an interesting kid," Albedo murmured, gazing at Jay thoughtfully. "I can't see his future."
A rare smile touched Albedo's lips, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"You're the first one… I can't wait to witness a future I cannot foresee."
***
Laughter echoed through the classroom, filled with gossip, casual conversation—and a fair share of mockery and insults mixed in.
It was lunch break, and students had naturally formed their own groups of friends, chatting amongst themselves. Most of the discussions centered around two major topics: this year's ORDER's Awakened Exam, known as the NAAT, and the upcoming Council of Elders meeting, both scheduled to take place in three months.
These were the hottest topics of the time, especially among the younger generation. The NAAT was particularly popular, as every kid looked up to the awakened as their role models and sources of inspiration.
Amidst the cacophony of the classroom, where laughter and chatter filled the air, there was one corner that stood apart—wrapped in an eerie, profound silence. It was a silence that felt unnatural, as though it had carved itself out of the room and withdrawn from the usual hum of teenage conversation and camaraderie. At the center of this quiet sat a lone boy, unmoved by the noise surrounding him.
His name was Jin, and the silence belonged to him.
It wasn't forced—simply there, silently commanding the space around him. No one dared to approach, as if they subconsciously understood that this silence was his alone—an embodiment of something deeper, perhaps even darker, than mere solitude. It felt like a reflection of memories buried far beneath the surface—memories Jin himself had long forgotten… or perhaps chosen to forget.
Jin sat at his desk, posture still, his presence like a shadow among the living. His silky, raven-black hair fluttered slightly in the soft breeze drifting in from the open window. The strands, as dark as midnight, framed a face both beautiful and haunting—a face that seemed to belong to someone far older than his years.
But it was his eyes that drew the most attention, even in moments of stillness. They were an unusual crimson—the color of freshly spilled blood or rubies beneath cold moonlight. Beautiful, yes… but unsettling. His eyes were the kind that could freeze the warmth from any room. The coldness in them made it seem as if they had witnessed far more than anyone his age ever should. The crimson hue was not just rare—it was nearly unheard of. In this world, only a handful were known to possess such eyes. There were legends about them… dark whispers that spoke of a curse. Eyes like his, they said, carried the weight of something unnatural—something dangerous.
Perhaps there was truth in those whispers. Jin had never fully understood it himself, but he often felt it—deep within. A presence. A lurking shadow. Something that stirred only when the world grew quiet.
He remained detached from the classroom's hustle, his mind far from the trivial conversations about exams and the daily drama of teenage life. While others buzzed with excitement over the NAAT and the Council of Elders, Jin felt no connection to their discussions. His thoughts drifted elsewhere, as they often did—to places only he could see.
Jin stared into the distance, his gaze fixed on the shadow of a tree. For a brief moment, he saw something flicker—a shape shifting within the shade.
"Seems like trouble," he muttered.
"Indeed."
A voice echoed within him—soft as wind, but ancient, like it had been there all along. Born from somewhere deeper. From within his soul.
"But more importantly… why are we here?" the voice asked, cool and disinterested. "Such a loud and worthless place."
"We don't have an identity, remember? This place gives us a background," Jin replied inwardly.
"You could just manipulate their minds. Like you did to get in here," the voice said, irritated.
"Can't do that to everyone," Jin responded, eyes never leaving the tree's shadow.
"Even with Mathematician?"
Jin gave a faint nod, lips unmoving, gaze still distant.
***
After school ended, Jin walked home alone, moving slowly through the crowded streets until he arrived at an old, abandoned building. He stopped at the entrance, his eyes narrowing. He could feel it—something was waiting.
"How long are you going to hide?" he asked calmly, addressing the stillness. "The sun's already set. It's dark now—your territory."
[Elemental Battle Art: Silence of Shadows]
A creature emerged from Jin's shadow, slithering out like smoke.
"Forgive me for intruding," it said in a rasping tone. "I was tasked with finding someone in this human realm."
"Bet it's not me," Jin replied flatly.
"I think it's up to something," the voice inside him whispered.
"Correct," the creature said. "Your spiritual energy level is so futile, it's almost laughable. Even the weakest beings have more than that."
"Yeah, I'm nothing special," Jin shrugged, his eyes drifting to an old red thread tied around his wrist. "I should be going, though. It's getting late."
"Wait," the creature hissed. "How did you know I was in your shadow?"
"Say it was a fluke," the voice inside urged.
Agreeing, Jin gave a small smile. "Huh? Did I say that? You must be mistaken."
The creature lunged, its killing intent sharp and sudden.
"Shh… it always ends like this," the voice sighed.
[Mathematician: Shadowless Life × 0]
The shadowless collapsed, lifeless.
Jin didn't even blink, walking away without a word. Indifferent to the creature he had just killed. It was routine now.
Meaningless.
***
From the deepest parts of the Abyss, an eerie voice echoed:
"Found you."