Darkness.
Heavy. Cold. Endless.
He couldn't see. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Then—
A voice.
"It's alright… You're saved now."
Soft. Gentle. Fading.
Light.
He gasped.
Air rushed into his lungs like fire. His back arched. His body screamed in pain.
The world exploded into color and chaos.
—
Smoke filled the air. Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance. Flames danced across the shattered concrete of what once looked like a city street. Buildings stood half-collapsed. Cars were overturned. Cracks spiderwebbed across the road.
He blinked through the blur, coughing violently.
A ruined apartment complex smoldered behind him, its windows shattered, its walls crumbling.
He sat up slowly, body aching. His clothes were torn. Blood stained his hands, but it didn't seem like it was all his.
Where… was he?
"Over here!"
"He's still breathing!"
Two silhouettes emerged from the smoke.
The first, a young man with short brown hair and a sharp but steady gaze. He knelt beside him, checking for wounds.
The second, a tall, white-haired man with dark glasses and a calm, unreadable face. He wore a long black coat and scanned the area, a glowing wrist device pulsing faintly with data.
"Hey," the brown-haired one said. "Can you hear me?"
He nodded weakly.
"You hurt?"
"I… I don't know."
"What's your name?"
He opened his mouth.
Nothing.
A blank.
"…I… I don't remember."
The brown-haired man frowned, glancing back at the white-haired one. "He's out of it."
"He's lucky to be alive," the taller one muttered, eyeing the ruined buildings around them. "That blast should've leveled him."
The brown-haired one stood up. "We can't leave him here. Let's at least get him somewhere safe—"
The wrist device on the white-haired man lit up and beeped sharply.
WARNING: Hollowborn signature detected. Proximity: 300 meters. Approaching fast.
"Tch. Damn it," the brown-haired man muttered, unsheathing a short sword from a hidden sheath on his back. Its surface shimmered faintly with runes. "They're close."
"Too close," the white-haired one said. "No time to argue."
The brown-haired one turned to the boy. "You can walk?"
"I think so…"
"Good. Stay close. Don't fall behind. Don't do anything stupid."
There was no warmth in his voice, but also no cruelty. Just urgency.
The boy stood up, legs shaky.
The three of them moved quickly, navigating the wreckage. Whatever happened here, it wasn't natural — and it wasn't over.
—
They hadn't gotten far before it appeared.
A grotesque humanoid figure burst from the rubble ahead — flesh like black smoke, arms elongated into claws, its face twisted in a permanent silent scream.
It moved like a predator.
The boy stumbled back in fear.
The brown-haired one stepped in front of him. "Stay behind me."
The monster screeched and lunged.
The man met it with a clean horizontal slash, his blade glowing faintly as it bit into the creature's flesh. Black blood splattered across the pavement.
But two more creatures emerged from the sides. One charged toward the white-haired man — who summoned a glowing circular barrier in the air, deflecting the impact just in time.
The third Hollowborn leapt directly at the brown-haired one from behind.
He turned too late.
The monster's claw slashed downward.
No—!
Without thinking, the boy moved.
He sprinted forward, shoving the man aside.
The world slowed.
His body reacted on instinct. His hand raised.
And something formed.
A jagged weapon of light and shadow — a blade born not from metal, but something deeper. Energy surged through his arm. The blade crackled violently in the air.
SLASH.
The Hollowborn's head flew from its shoulders.
The boy landed in a crouch, heart pounding, blade still glowing in his hand.
The two remaining Hollowborn snarled — and charged.
He didn't hesitate.
He dodged left, blade whipping around in a clean arc. Another strike — this time through the creature's torso. Its body dissolved into smoke.
The final Hollowborn lunged from above. He flipped the blade in his grip and drove it upward mid-air — straight through its chest.
The beast exploded into mist.
Silence followed.
The energy faded.
The blade in his hand vanished like dust.
The boy stood alone, panting, the street around him coated in ash.
He turned, breathing heavily, looking toward the two men.
"I… I don't know what just happened. I didn't mean to—"
SHHHHK.
The brown-haired man stepped forward, eyes sharp.
His sword was once again pointed directly at the boy's chest.
"You're one of them."
The boy's heart sank. "W-What? No—I didn't turn into anything! I'm still—!"
"You manifested a weapon out of thin air. That's how the Hollowborn fight."
"I'm not like them!" he said, stepping back. "I don't even know what I am!"
The white-haired man stepped between them, lowering his tablet. "Calm down."
The brown-haired man didn't budge. "You saw it too. That wasn't human."
"No. But it wasn't fully Hollowborn either," the older one replied. "His energy signature is unstable. Similar to theirs… but incomplete."
"That doesn't mean he's not dangerous."
"No," the white-haired man said quietly. "But it might mean he's not lost."
The boy looked between them, helpless, confused. The fear in his chest was real — but it wasn't fear of the monsters anymore.
It was fear of himself.
And fear of what they might do if they decided he was a threat.
"I didn't ask for this," he muttered. "I didn't even know I could do that…"
A long silence.
Then, the white-haired man turned to the other.
"If we leave him here, more Hollowborn will find him. If he is like them… he'll fall. Or be taken."
The brown-haired man said nothing.
The older man added, voice lower, gentler:
"...You said you'd never leave someone behind again. Not after what happened to your sister."
That made him flinch.
Slowly… his sword lowered.
"…Tch." He sheathed it. "Fine. But if he steps out of line—"
"Then we handle it."
The brown-haired man looked at the boy again, eyes no longer filled with suspicion, but something heavier. Responsibility. Burden.
"Let's go."
The boy nodded, still stunned.
He didn't know who he was.
He didn't know what he was.
But for now… he wouldn't be alone.