Footsteps rushed from above, then a cry mixed with pleading: "Mac… darling… nooo!"
I couldn't hear anything — the emptiness inside my chest swallowed it all. I bolted straight for the door, desperate to escape before the police — or anyone — arrived. I pushed through the street and mounted my bike, speeding away; people stared at me in confusion, but I didn't care. As long as no one blocked my path, I'd let them be. I just needed to flee… to return to the only place that understands me.
Home. My only refuge in this insane world.
Whenever problems or burdens crushed me, I always came back here — to sleep, to forget people.
I slipped inside through the window, collapsed onto the bed, and sighed in relief: finally, I was back.
I sat there, whispering to myself: "I don't know what to do. Every time my anger flares, I feel something… something eating me away. What is it?"
I glanced to my side. A strange feeling washed over me; a smile spread across my face without reason. Then I burst out laughing loudly — as if today had never happened at all.
After a long silence, something in my hand began to glow.
My infernal hand — it turned black, bursting with a dark flame. I hurled it at the door: "Come out! I can feel someone here… shall we begin or what?"
Suddenly, a figure emerged from nothing. His presence shook me — how did he appear? Was this some kind of skill?
He barely spoke before I thrust my hand forward, voice breaking with power:
"Shadow Rebirth — Eternal Hell!"
The darkness spread from my blackened hand to both arms, before I unleashed a dark beam straight at him. It collided with his flame— BOOM! Smoke surged, the ceiling cracked, debris rained down.
Kim: "Did he die… or what?"
Through the dust, a voice spoke: "You really… aren't cruel. You didn't strike to kill."
Kim screamed, fear tangled with curiosity: "How can you talk to me? You're not human… what are you?!"
A reply came from the fog: "I… am a friend?" Then he lunged forward. Before I realized it, his hand clamped onto my head. A crushing force slammed me through the wall, shattering it, throwing me down into the garden.
A sharp gasp tore from me: Haaah… how didn't he die?! I was right — he's not human.
Another voice called out: "Hey, Nevi, don't kill the boy — got it?"
I turned. A tall woman stood behind me. "Look behind you!"
The shock doubled — how had she reached me so fast? I clawed the ground, my heart pounding, and leapt, trying to escape. I hurled myself into the reflection of the shadow on my garden wall, praying that Shadow Steps would save me.
Kim's voice echoed like a narration inside my head:
"Shadow Steps — his second skill. His body melts into the dark for a moment, then reappears nearby."
It worked. I found myself outside the house, fleeing.
But who were these beings? Where did they come from?
Before I could breathe, a voice resonated: "We are not creatures… we are members of an order — the Chronos Council. We are guardians of eternity."
I froze, glancing left and right. On a nearby rooftop, a figure stood. He said: "We didn't come to hunt you. We came to guide you — to your true home."
I scoffed inwardly: "I'm human. I'm from this planet. How dare you say otherwise?"
The reply came coldly from behind me: "No… you are not human. You are of the Athom race."
---
Garlic sweat
Beings born from the seepage of darkness that leaked through the cracks of the world. Their appearance lies between human and non-human. The outside world sees them as "lesser creatures" — despised, imprisoned, slaughtered whenever needed. A strict law binds them: no crossing between realms, no tampering with the lines of time — or instant execution awaits.
Appearance:
Lean bodies, dark-gray skin streaked with glowing cracks. Their eyes smoky or pale violet, never reflecting light. Their fingertips are long, with glassy black nails. They move like drifting smoke in dim light, their voices hushed whispers.
Known abilities of Kim:
Shadow Merge: Fusing with shadows, vanishing temporarily or traveling through them.
Feeding on Night: Darkness sustains them; they need no human food.
Sense of Time: A natural awareness of nearby temporal shifts, making attempts to alter time easily detectable.
---
Dairos stepped closer, his voice gentle: "Don't be harsh, Mank."
Mank answered coldly, resolute: "I am not harsh… I simply wish to finish the mission."
I stood at the threshold of a new path — torn between vengeance and the mystery of my true identity, between an approaching mission and an organization that might either save me or exploit me.
The shadows inside me crawled upward; the city's heart throbbed with danger.
Now, everything was changing — and tonight would not be like any other.