Waking up hurt more than dying.
My body felt like it had been stitched together by barbed wire and stubborn will. The stench of disinfectant burned my nose, and when I cracked my eyes open, the flickering lights of the Tokyo Outer Ward hospital ceiling welcomed me back to reality.
Again.
Just like always.
Just like hell.
I turned my head. My mother had fallen asleep beside the hospital bed, hand still clutching mine. She looked older than last week. Her hair, thinner. Face, smaller. Her whole world shrank every time I walked into a dungeon.
And yet she never told me to stop.
"…Riven?"
The voice came from the corner. My brother Daigo leaned against the wall, arms crossed over a fresh office suit—one that didn't hide the fatigue etched into his eyes. A badge dangled from his belt: "Union Guild: Operations Division."
C-rank Hero. 21 years old. Guild recruiter by day, tired big brother by night.
"Still breathing," I rasped.
"Barely," he muttered. "What the hell were you doing in a B-rank gate? You're E-rank, Riven."
"I know what I am," I said.
He walked over, lowered his voice. "No. You really don't. Do you even realize how lucky you were? They called it a 'miracle survival.' You fought a B-class monster—alone. The raid party left you behind. Your name's been trending in internal guild boards."
I clenched my teeth. "Let them trend. I'm not joining a guild."
He sighed. "This isn't about a guild."
He pulled a folder from his jacket and tossed it on the bed.
Inside?
Photos.
Grainy images. Me. Standing over a shattered B-rank beast. Covered in blood. Eyes—mine—but glowing faint blue. The same glow from the Revenant Bond.
"They pulled this from the dungeon logs," Daigo said. "You activated a Unique Class. Something no one's ever seen before. Which means you're already being flagged."
"Flagged?"
"Blacklisted."
I blinked.
"Some classes are too rare, too risky, too… untested. If the system marks you as 'Unstable,' you get locked out of legal raids. Guilds blacklist you. The Association monitors your every breath."
I stared at the photos.
Unstable.
That tracks.
"…Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
"Because I know what they'll do to you if you don't move smart."
I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in years… Daigo looked afraid.
Not of me.
For me.
Our dad died during the Osaka Dungeon Break.
He held the line while monsters flooded the city.
We lived.
He didn't.
Daigo was just fifteen. He signed a ten-year contract with Union Guild before he even awakened—just to pay our bills.
He didn't get to cry.
He didn't get to break.
He just worked.
Even after awakening to C-rank, he stuck with the desk job. Recruitment, logistics, bureaucracy. A Hero who never got to be one.
All so I could chase dungeons.
"I'm not backing down," I said.
"I know."
"I have to go back to Osaka. It's still a Turf. Still overrun."
"I know."
"You don't have to help."
Daigo scoffed. "Like hell I don't."
The door creaked open.
My mother stirred awake and smiled the second she saw me upright. Her hand shot to my forehead, checking for fever. Tears formed instantly—no delay.
I didn't say anything. I just let her cry.
Because in this world, ghosts don't get to rest.
Not until we bury the monsters that made us.
After Mom left the room to get soup, Daigo leaned closer. His eyes scanned the hallway, then shut the door behind him.
Something was wrong.
"You kept something from the dungeon, didn't you?" he asked, low.
My pulse spiked. "…What makes you say that?"
"You're glowing, Riven. Not just those eyes—your file flagged residual energy bleed. You're still bonded to something."
I stayed quiet.
He stared.
I reached into my coat, beneath the lining.
Wrapped in torn cloth… was a fist-sized fragment of obsidian crystal. Black as night. Pulsing softly, like it remembered the rage of the thing I killed.
"I don't know what it is," I said.
Daigo flinched when I unwrapped it. "Riven—!"
"I couldn't leave it. I felt it. Like it was meant to follow me."
"No, you don't get it. That thing—it's not loot. It's a Resonance Core."
I froze.
Every hunter knew what that meant. Dungeon bosses sometimes left behind Residual Cores—alive with unstable system energy. Unregistered. Illegal. Worth millions on the black market.
And hunted like hell.
Daigo grabbed my shoulder. "You have to burn it."
"No."
"Riven, I'm serious—"
"I said no. This thing… it's connected to my Bond. I can feel it. It's not a curse. It's a message."
Silence.
Then Daigo looked at me the same way he did the day Dad died.
Like I was already gone.
"You're not the only one who's felt its pulse," he said. "After you collapsed, a headhunter showed up at the hospital. Claimed to be from a 'private guild'—but his license didn't scan. I stalled him, but he'll be back."
"Let him come."
"Riven—!"
I stood up, tore out the IV.
Daigo cursed under his breath, but didn't stop me. He just walked over to the window, stared out at the glow of Tokyo's Upper Rings.
"You've got one shot," he muttered. "One move before the system decides you're not worth the risk. And I'll be real with you, little brother… nobody gets a second."
"Good," I said, wrapping the Core again. "I don't need two."
Later that night…
I lay in the dark hospital bed, eyes open.
A system ping buzzed in my ear.
[ Soul Link Synch: 78% ]
[ Host: Riven Kael ]
[ Bonded Companion: Yena – Status: Unknown ]
[ New Subsystem Detected: "Whisper Core" ]
And just for a second…
A voice echoed in my mind. Soft. Strained. Terrified.
"Run. They're not after the monster you killed. They're after you."
I sat up.
The Core throbbed.
Outside the window, across the rooftops…
A black-cloaked figure stood watching.
The figure didn't move.
Just stood there.
A silhouette carved from the dark—no face, no details, just the cloak's ripple brushing against wind like static.
I reached for the dagger under my pillow.
Nothing.
Right. Hospital. No weapons.
I blinked.
Gone.
Not walked. Not leapt.
Vanished—like the universe glitched and forgot it spawned him.
My breath caught.
[ System Alert: Whisper Core Detecting Hostile Intent. ]
[ Threat Level: Undefined. ]
I clenched the Core inside my jacket.
It pulsed like frostbitten steel.
"Run."
That voice again. Not Yena. Not fully.
Twisted. Warped. Like her voice had been shredded and stitched back together with knives and wires.
Then—
The door creaked open.
I spun—
Daigo.
Face tight. Voice sharp. "We need to go. Now."
"Why?"
He tossed a duffel bag at me. Gear. Forged ID. Burner phone.
My gear.
"The Association just flagged you Containment Priority."
My stomach dropped.
Containment.
Code for: never seen again.
I yanked the IV out. "How long?"
"Twenty minutes. There's a train to Osaka leaving in fifteen. Get on it. Don't look back."
"What about Mom?"
"Safe. Union's got her under shield contracts. You're the wildcard." His jaw clenched. "They're gonna hunt you harder than any monster."
I zipped the Core into my inner jacket. "Who was that outside?"
Daigo blinked. "What window?"
I pointed—
He was there again.
Closer now.
Standing on the glass.
One hand inside the room.
Phasing through like the world didn't matter.
Daigo cursed and yanked me back—just as the window inverted, shattering inward.
The shards hovered mid-air like frozen snow.
Then the figure stepped through.
[ System Error: Entity Not Recognized. ]
[ No Class. No Rank. No Registry. ]
The air shifted. Dense. Heavy. My lungs ached.
Daigo shoved me behind him, lightning crackling up his arm. "Stay back!"
The figure tilted its head.
Then—
"Riven Kael."
Its voice shredded the silence.
Like static. Like teeth on steel.
"You carry a dead god's heartbeat. They will rip you apart to bury it."
Daigo charged.
Lightning exploded from his fist—
The figure caught it.
Just caught it. No reaction. No recoil.
Then—
Daigo screamed.
His veins turned black.
The lightning died.
"DAIGO!"
I pulled him back—Core burning in my chest.
The figure let go.
Daigo collapsed, groaning, his arm inked with crawling black lines.
The thing turned to me.
"Osaka Turf. Sublevel 9. Find the Hollow Priest."
Then—
pop
A single static blink.
Gone.
No trace. No presence. Like a ghost that never existed.
Daigo groaned, sweat dripping, arm twitching. "What the hell was that…?"
I didn't answer.
Because the Core was singing.
Not screaming. Not pulsing.
Speaking.
[ Whisper Core Activated. ]
[ New Quest: "The Hollow Priest" ]
[ Reward: Truth. ]
I hauled Daigo up.
"We move. Now."
He grabbed my shoulder.
"We nothing. I'll buy you time."
"Like hell—"
"Riven." His voice burned low. "You're the only one who hears that thing. The only one it chose. That means you're the only one who can end whatever this is."
Sirens howled outside.
The Association was closing in.
Daigo shoved me. "Go."
I ran.
Not away.
Toward.
Because Osaka didn't fall by accident.
And the dead?
They don't bury themselves.
The train to Osaka smelled like rust and blood.
Not dried blood.
Fresh.
Metallic.
The kind that clung to Hunters too long inside the Turf. The kind that said:
You're not coming back.
I kept my hood low. Head down. Breath even.
The Whisper Core pulsed against my ribs like a second heart—cold, alive, waiting.
The passengers around me gave space.
Good.
I wasn't here to talk.
I was here to dig up a ghost.
Osaka Turf.
Once, a city. Now?
A crater of rotting metal and unburied nightmares.
Skyscrapers snapped in half. Pavement melted into sludge. The sky—permanently bruised, veined with dungeon static.
No patrols. No Heroes. Just creatures that never stopped mutating.
A "Containment Zone."
Which meant?
You enter. You die.
And at the center of it?
The Hollow Priest.
I stepped off the train.
Boots hit shattered glass.
The system flared.
[System Alert: Entering High-Risk Zone]
[Dungeon Resonance: 89% Saturation]
[Warning: Unknown Entity Signatures Detected]
[Personal Safety Estimate: 11%]
The Core twisted in my chest.
Then it spoke.
Left.
No voice. Just understanding.
I followed.
An alley. Narrow. Dripping. Something skittered across the wall and vanished before I could blink.
At the far end: a flickering kanji sign.
地下 9
Sublevel 9.
I gripped the dagger Daigo had packed me.
Then walked into the dark.
The descent wasn't stairs. Not really.
It was a spiral into hell.
Ladders rusted through. Cracked tunnels. Breathing walls.
The deeper I went, the harder it got to think.
Like something was eating sound and thought and time.
Then—finally—a door.
Wooden. Old. Covered in blood-smeared wards.
I knocked once.
It opened on its own.
And what waited inside wasn't a room.
It was a ruin.
Church pews shattered. Candles flickering in pools of melted wax shaped like hands. An altar, split in two.
And at the center—
a man in rags.
Back turned.
Humming.
"You're late," he said.
His voice—wrong.
Too many voices stacked together. Old. Dead. Twisted.
I stepped inside.
The door slammed behind me.
"...Hollow Priest?"
He turned.
And I understood why they called him that.
No face.
Not disfigured.
Empty.
Just swirling void where features should be. A mouth that didn't exist still moved. Skeletal fingers twitched like spiders drunk on decay.
"You carry it," he whispered. "The thing that should not exist."
I didn't blink. "The Whisper Core."
He tilted his head.
Then reached into his own chest and pulled out—
A second Core.
Identical to mine.
Cracked. Hissing black vapor.
[System Alert: ERROR.]
[Core Signature Conflict Detected.]
[Do Not Trust This Entity.]
"The system," he rasped, "lied to all of us. The Surge. The dungeons. The Awakened. You think it was chaos?"
"No," I said. "It was designed."
He smiled—despite not having lips.
"A sacrifice," he said. "The gods didn't vanish. They were slaughtered. Their hearts turned into Cores. Their bodies—into dungeons."
I clenched my fists. "Why?"
"The same reason anyone kills gods."
"To become one."
The floor shuddered.
The candles died.
From behind the altar, something stepped out of the dark.
Not walked.
Glided.
Tall. Wrapped in darkness. Limbs too long. Skin hidden under pitch-black bandages. A smooth, mask-like face.
No mouth. No eyes.
But I felt it watching.
[System Alert: ??? ENTITY DETECTED]
[Threat Level: S]
[Recommendation: FLEE IMMEDIATELY]
The Hollow Priest didn't turn.
"They've found you," he murmured.
The Core in my chest screamed.
My legs locked.
The entity stepped forward.
No footsteps.
Just pressure.
Like the air itself bowed in fear.
The Priest's void-face rippled. "Run, Riven Kael. Or this tomb becomes your own."
The figure raised one arm—fingers forming a jagged spiral.
[!!! Incoming Curse Signature: Worldbound Tier]
I turned—
And bolted.