Chapter 1
Shibuya Crossing at 3 AM was supposed to be empty.
It was never empty. Even in the dead hours, there were always stragglers—drunk salarymen, convenience store workers, insomniacs like him. But tonight, the intersection stretched out like an abandoned movie set. No cars. No people. Just painted lines on asphalt and the electric hum of screens advertising to no one.
The kid pulled his hoodie lower and kept walking.
His sneakers echoed too loud against the pavement. Each step felt wrong, like he was trespassing somewhere he shouldn't be. The air tasted metallic.
Then he saw it.
The subway station gate. Something was coming out.
Not walking. Not crawling. Emerging—like reality was tearing open to birth it. The figure twisted as it moved, its edges blurred and wrong, a shadow that didn't match any light source.
His chest tightened.
The thing turned toward him.
Every instinct screamed run, but his body had gone cold. His soul felt loose in his skin, like it was trying to slip out through his pores. Just looking at it made him feel hollow.