Everything happened so fast.
In the midst of his confusion—within the tangled mess of his thoughts—he knew. Only one thing felt real:
Hunger.
It wasn't a hunger in his stomach. It wasn't a hunger in his throat. It was something gnawing at his mind and his body from within.
Yami began to walk without a destination. No map. No direction.
The concepts of right and wrong he had known his whole life became meaningless. Reality and logic turned into a blur, leaving him to move on instinct alone.
He knew what was right. He knew what was wrong. That knowledge was still there, neatly arranged like books that hadn't yet been burned.
But… there was no urge to obey them. And right now, his logic couldn't stop the hunger.
He stepped deeper into the city of bones. The buildings grew tighter. The air grew heavier. The silence here wasn't just quiet—it held something settled. Like the breath of a creature that had been hiding for far too long.
Then—he heard it. Not the sound of words, but a sound that was… wet. Like something dragging itself over raw meat.
Yami stopped. His eyes moved slowly, observing every tiny detail. And there, amidst the shadows of the leaning buildings—he saw it.
The creature.
It wasn't human, but it wasn't an animal either. Its body resembled a child… yet it was stretched too far. Its joints were out of place. Its head was larger than it should have been. Its skin looked clear, revealing something throbbing underneath.
And its face—it was better described as a remnant of a face. The eyes were too large, the mouth was vertical, and from the gaps of its lips hung black fibers like thin, moving roots.
It was trembling. Not from the cold, but from… fear.
The creature saw Yami—and it began to cry. The sound wasn't raspy. It wasn't loud. It was like the sound of air slowly breaking.
It limped toward Yami. Its hands—six of them—clawed at the air, as if searching for something to touch. To hold. To be saved by.
Yami watched it. He knew this… was not an enemy. Not a predator. Not a guardian. This was something… weak.
He knew the definition. A creature like this was supposed to be helped.
But… nothing in his chest moved. There was no urge to step closer. No pity. No compassion. There was only— Hunger.
The Black Lotus on his chest throbbed slowly. Like a heart that didn't belong to him.
The creature now stood before him. It raised a trembling hand and touched the edge of Yami's coat. The movement was fragile. As if it were reaching for its last hope in the world.
Yami looked down at it. His gaze was calm. Flat. Empty.
The creature opened its mouth—and something fell out. Not words. Not a sound. Instead, it was a black liquid—thick, shimmering—and evaporating into the air like iron-scented smoke.
Yami leaned in slightly. He felt no disgust. No fear. No discomfort. On the contrary… his hunger intensified.
He knew one thing with cold certainty: He didn't hate this creature. He wasn't angry with it. He just… didn't care.
And that was far more terrifying.
"Sorry," Yami said. Not as an apology. But as a statement of fact.
He raised his hand. A strange, cold power surged through his entire body. His mind didn't know how it worked, but his body remembered.
Like an extension of his own arm, his shadow moved. It pinned the creature's head against the wall of a bone-building. Not roughly. Not with rage. Just strong enough to make the body stop moving.
The creature struggled. Its six hands clawed at the air, desperate for a grip. Its mouth opened wider, dripping dark stains that refused to dry, and a silent scream made the air vibrate.
But… Yami felt nothing.
His shadow covered the creature's face completely. And when the final pressure was applied—his shadow devoured.
Not flesh. Not bone. But… Essence.
He felt a cold rush fill his chest, spreading through his entire body. The wound on his head began to close. The Black Lotus glowed for a moment; its petals, once a closed bud, began to bloom.
The creature went limp. Its body collapsed and evaporated as if it had never been born.
Yami stood in his place. Alone again. Silence fell once more.
But the world… had changed slightly. The air felt… lighter. And inside him, the hunger subsided a little. Not gone. Just… calmed.
Yami looked down at his hands. Clean. No blood. No stains.
He knew what he had just done was wrong. The knowledge was still there. It wasn't erased. But not a single feeling came with it. No guilt. No regret. No doubt.
He only knew that he had filled the void. And that… made him understand something terrible: In this world, he was no longer human.
The Black Lotus on his chest throbbed slowly again. As if… it agreed.
But the hunger began to return. One essence was not enough. It was deeper. Greedier. Like a bottomless pit splashed with a single drop of water, only to thirst again.
He walked. The bone-buildings opened up narrow alleys that weren't there before. It was as if this world understood what he wanted before he could even think of it.
He searched. Not with his eyes, but with something inside him that he had just realized existed.
And he found them. Several.
Things that could hardly be called creatures. Some crawled like meat that had forgotten how to be a body. Some clung to the walls, seeping slowly like living stains. Some just stood there… waiting, not knowing what they were waiting for.
Yami didn't ask. He didn't hesitate. He didn't choose.
His shadow moved… and it took. One by one—essence flowed into him. No sound. No screams. No bloodshed.
They didn't die. They were… erased.
Finally, the floor became silent. There was no other sound except Yami's own breath. He stood in the middle of the emptiness he had created himself.
And for the first time since he woke up—the hunger truly stopped.
But that wasn't the only thing that changed. His wounds were healed, leaving no trace as if they were never there. And something inside him… increased.
He felt it when he blinked. The world moved… slower. Every grain of dust in the air became clear. He could feel the tiny cracks in the bone walls. He could hear the heartbeat of something far… very far away.
He could smell the scent of fear—not from anyone else, but from the world itself.
Without Yami noticing, the Black Lotus on his chest bloomed even further. Its petals stretched outward, its dark ink spreading like a silent virus across his pale skin.
He clenched his fist. He realized that his muscles felt more powerful, driven not by physical effort—but by his sheer will.
He stared at his shadow on the black floor. The shadow moved in sync with Yami's thoughts, feeling stronger with every passing second.
Yami wasn't shocked. He just… accepted it. Because this felt… right. As if his body was only now complete.
Yami sharpened his hearing, searching for the direction of the heartbeat he had heard earlier. The sound came from outside. His body felt incredibly light.
Yami moved with a swiftness that transcended human limits, following the source of that sound. Before him, he saw a staircase with a light at its end.
The first light he had seen in this world.