END OF CHAPTER THREE
Then she lightly grabbed the sleeve of my hoodie.
She didn't even seem aware she was doing it.
Kimberly had taken the seat beside me the moment we entered the restaurant, and since then she hadn't moved more than a few inches away.
Not that I minded.
At the moment, having another human being nearby felt oddly reassuring.
Airi sat across from us, her arms wrapped tightly around her phone.
The screen was off.
She still wouldn't let go of it.
Her fingers trembled slightly every few seconds.
As though she expected it to turn back on by itself.
As though she expected something to appear on the screen again.
Something only she could see.
Xia was the first to recover enough to act normal.
Or at least to pretend.
She dropped into her chair with the exhausted grace of someone who had survived a war she never agreed to fight in.
Then she rubbed her temples and sighed.
"Alright."
Her voice carried the authority of a general addressing traumatized soldiers.
"Rule number one."
She pointed at all of us.
"Nobody ever mentions that place again."
"I second that motion."
Won Ho raised his hand immediately.
Minho nodded so aggressively I was concerned for his neck.
"Yeah. Definitely."
"Agreed."
"Signed and legally binding."
Xia closed her eyes.
"I hate all of you."
The table erupted into tired laughter.
Not because the joke was particularly funny.
Because we needed it to be.
Humans have a strange habit.
When reality becomes unbearable, we laugh.
Not because things are okay.
But because the alternative is considerably worse.
I picked up one of the menus and pretended to read it.
Pretended.
Because my mind wasn't in the restaurant.
It was still trapped inside the forest.
Still wandering beneath those impossible trees.
Still listening to whispers hidden beneath the wind.
The memory refused to leave.
The silence.
The fog.
The feeling that something had been watching us long before we noticed it.
And above all else...
That sentence.
The forest belongs to you.
I swallowed slowly.
No.
There had to be an explanation.
Fear distorts perception.
Anxiety alters memory.
Collective panic creates patterns where none exist.
That was basic psychology.
Basic neuroscience.
The human brain was essentially a paranoid monkey piloting a biological machine while desperately trying to convince itself it understood reality.
Nothing unusual there.
So why...
Why did my chest still feel tight?
Why did I keep seeing shadows every time I blinked?
Why did some irrational part of me feel as though we'd left something behind?
Or worse.
That something had followed us out.
A waitress appeared beside our table before I could continue that line of thought.
She looked exhausted.
The kind of exhausted unique to people who deal with customers for a living.
"Good evening, everyone. Ready to order?"
Won Ho answered first.
Of course he did.
And, naturally, ordered enough food to sustain a medieval village through winter.
The waitress blinked twice.
Then continued writing.
Minho ordered almost the exact same thing.
Xia requested something far more reasonable.
Kimberly barely looked at the menu before deciding.
Airi ordered only fries and a soda.
The waitress finally turned toward me.
"And you?"
I looked up.
"The double burger. Fries. Wings."
I paused.
"And three sodas."
The table fell silent.
Won Ho stared at me.
Horrified.
"Three?"
I calmly closed the menu.
"Some people drink alcohol to forget their problems."
I placed it on the table.
"I drink soda."
For a second nobody reacted.
Then Xia snorted.
Kimberly laughed.
Minho nearly choked.
Even Airi managed a small smile.
A real one.
Tiny.
Fragile.
But real.
And for a few moments...
Everything felt normal again.
Maybe too normal.
The conversations slowly returned.
Won Ho complained about school.
Minho complained about life.
Xia complained about both of them.
Kimberly contributed occasional insults whenever she felt the discussion lacked quality.
Which was often.
I listened more than I spoke.
Watching them.
Listening to them argue over things that suddenly felt absurdly small.
Homework.
Video games.
Teachers.
Assignments.
Things that had seemed important this morning.
Before the forest.
Before the whispers.
Before the thing with too many eyes smiled at us.
Strangely enough...
I found myself grateful for the stupidity.
Because maybe that's what keeps people alive.
Not hope.
Not dreams.
Not destiny.
Just moments like this.
Eating terrible food with friends.
Listening to pointless arguments.
Sharing jokes nobody will remember tomorrow.
Feeling, however briefly, like you belong somewhere.
The universe is enormous.
Cold.
Ancient.
Indifferent.
Every human being eventually learns that.
Sooner or later.
But maybe the secret isn't defeating the darkness.
Maybe it's simply finding small lights worth protecting.
A laugh.
A conversation.
A meal.
A friend sitting close enough to accidentally hold your sleeve without realizing it.
I glanced sideways.
Kimberly was still holding onto my hoodie.
Completely unconsciously.
I almost pointed it out.
Then decided not to.
Some things are better left alone.
Especially when they make the world feel a little less empty.
The food hadn't even arrived yet.
But somehow...
For the first time since leaving the forest...
I could breathe again.
The food arrived shortly afterward.
Honestly...
It might have saved the evening.
The moment the plates hit the table, the atmosphere changed.
Not completely.
The forest was still there.
Lurking somewhere behind our eyes.
Waiting.
But food gave people something else to focus on.
Something normal.
Something safe.
Won Ho immediately began acting like an idiot again.
Which, in hindsight, was probably a sign of recovery.
Minho started talking about a game he had recently become obsessed with.
Xia insulted him for it.
Then somehow joined the conversation five minutes later.
Kimberly looked considerably more relaxed than before.
And even Airi seemed a little more present.
Not happy.
Not okay.
Just... present.
I watched them while taking another sip of soda.
Maybe human beings weren't built to handle horror.
Maybe that was why we buried it beneath routine.
Beneath jokes.
Beneath meals.
Beneath meaningless conversations about things that ultimately didn't matter.
Because if we didn't...
The darkness would have too much room to grow.
"Hey, Dark."
Xia's voice pulled me back into reality.
I looked up.
"Hm?"
She was watching me.
That alone was concerning.
Xia only looked at people like that when she was about to ask a question she'd been overthinking.
And unfortunately...
I already knew what it was going to be.
She hesitated.
Which was unusual for her.
Then finally spoke.
"Did you actually see something back there?"
The table went silent.
Immediately.
It was impressive, honestly.
Six people.
One sentence.
Instant psychological damage.
Even the noise of the restaurant seemed quieter.
As if the question itself had sucked the air from the room.
I looked down at my drink.
Tiny bubbles rose through the soda.
A simple thing.
Predictable.
Logical.
Unlike everything that had happened in that forest.
Finally, I sighed.
"I saw things."
Nobody spoke.
The tension returned all at once.
Kimberly turned toward me.
"What kind of things?"
I leaned back slightly.
The answer should have been simple.
But it wasn't.
Because admitting what I saw required admitting too many other things.
Too many impossible things.
Things I wasn't prepared to make real.
"I don't know."
And that was the truth.
At least partially.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I heard voices."
Airi lowered her gaze.
"I saw shadows."
Minho visibly tensed.
"I felt like something was watching us."
Won Ho stopped eating.
Which was genuinely alarming.
Then I shrugged.
"But it was probably stress."
Nobody looked convinced.
Including me.
"Stress?" Won Ho repeated.
"Collective stress."
I nodded.
"Fear affects perception. People start seeing patterns. Hearing things. Misinterpreting information."
Xia raised an eyebrow.
"Dark."
"Hm?"
"A camera recorded those things."
There it was.
The problem.
The one detail my brain couldn't neatly file away.
Airi's phone.
The footage.
The thing with too many eyes.
I took another drink before answering.
"The human brain is surprisingly unreliable."
"That wasn't my question."
"The human brain can alter memories."
"Dark."
"It can create false associations."
"Dark."
"It can—"
"Dark."
I stopped talking.
Xia crossed her arms.
"A camera."
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Unfortunately, Xia possessed the supernatural ability to continue staring forever.
I eventually surrendered.
"...Cameras malfunction."
The answer came too quickly.
Too defensively.
Everyone noticed.
Of course they did.
Because the problem wasn't convincing them.
It was convincing myself.
Silence settled over the table.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then, unexpectedly...
Airi spoke.
Her voice was quiet.
Almost fragile.
"When we were in the forest..."
Nobody interrupted.
Nobody even moved.
Airi swallowed.
Then continued.
"Did anyone else hear children?"
The entire table froze.
A different kind of silence followed.
Not awkward.
Not uncomfortable.
Afraid.
I felt my stomach tighten.
Because yes.
I had heard something.
Far away.
Hidden beneath the wind.
Soft laughter.
Distorted singing.
Voices that sounded young.
Too young.
The kind of sound that doesn't belong in the middle of a dead forest.
But I didn't want to acknowledge it.
Because every time we spoke about what happened...
It became a little more real.
And I desperately needed it to stay unreal.
So I shook my head.
Slowly.
"No."
The lie left my mouth effortlessly.
That was probably the worst part.
Airi lowered her gaze.
"Oh."
She sounded disappointed.
Not because I disagreed.
Because she knew I was lying.
And honestly...
So did I.
Nobody continued the conversation after that.
The topic simply died.
Or perhaps we killed it intentionally.
Some truths are dangerous.
Not because they're false.
Because they're true.
And everyone at that table understood the same thing.
The moment we seriously started discussing what happened in the forest...
We'd have to accept the possibility that it actually happened.
That the shadows were real.
That the voices were real.
That the thing in the camera had smiled at us.
And none of us were ready for that.
So instead...
We returned to burgers.
To fries.
To pointless arguments.
To normality.
Artificial.
Fragile.
Temporary.
But normal.
And for now...
That was enough.
For a while, everything felt almost normal.
Not truly normal.
Just close enough to fool ourselves.
Won Ho had somehow started an argument about whether pineapple belonged on pizza.
Minho was defending the concept with the determination of a man protecting a sacred ideology.
Xia looked one sentence away from committing a felony.
Kimberly was quietly enjoying the chaos.
And Airi had finally stopped staring at her phone every three seconds.
Almost normal.
Almost.
Then my phone vibrated.
The sound was small.
Insignificant.
Yet somehow it immediately caught my attention.
I pulled it from my pocket absentmindedly while reaching for my drink.
Probably a notification.
A school message.
Spam.
One of the countless meaningless interruptions modern technology had trained humanity to tolerate.
The screen lit up.
Unknown Number.
A message.
No text.
Just an attached image.
I frowned slightly.
That was strange.
I opened it.
And immediately felt my stomach drop.
The restaurant vanished.
The voices vanished.
The laughter vanished.
Everything disappeared except the image on my screen.
A photograph.
Dark.
Grainy.
Taken at night.
For several seconds my brain refused to process what I was looking at.
Then recognition hit me.
The forest.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
The photograph had been taken inside the forest.
There was no doubt about it.
The trees.
The fog.
The darkness.
I knew that place.
I wished I didn't.
A cold sensation crawled slowly up my spine.
Then I noticed the figure.
Standing in the distance.
Watching the camera.
Tall.
Motionless.
Almost human.
Almost.
That was the problem.
The shape wasn't distorted enough to look like a monster.
It looked close enough to a person.
Close enough for my brain to recognize it.
Close enough for every instinct in my body to reject it.
The silhouette stood perfectly still among the trees.
Waiting.
Watching.
As though it had known the photograph was being taken.
As though it had wanted to be seen.
My heartbeat became noticeably louder.
Then I looked beneath the image.
A single sentence.
Five words.
Nothing more.
I can still see you.
The world seemed to tilt slightly.
I stared at the message.
Reading it once.
Twice.
Three times.
As though repetition might somehow change the meaning.
It didn't.
The sentence remained exactly the same.
Simple.
Direct.
Personal.
Not I can see you.
Not I saw you.
I can still see you.
Present tense.
Current.
Ongoing.
A strange chill spread through my chest.
"Dark?"
Kimberly's voice pulled me back.
I locked the phone immediately.
Too quickly.
Far too quickly.
The movement alone probably made me look guilty.
"What happened?"
I looked up.
Everyone was watching me.
Wonderful.
"Nothing."
Xia narrowed her eyes.
That expression usually meant she was approximately three seconds away from calling me out.
"That was absolutely not a 'nothing' face."
"It was spam."
"No."
"It was."
"No."
I sighed.
Xia pointed at me with a french fry.
"You just stared at your phone like it personally insulted your ancestors."
"Modern marketing has become very aggressive."
Won Ho laughed.
"Imagine getting cursed messages after entering a haunted forest."
"Shut up."
Xia and I answered simultaneously.
The synchronization earned another round of laughter.
Even Kimberly smiled.
But I barely heard any of it.
Because my attention kept drifting back toward my pocket.
Toward the phone.
Toward the image waiting inside it.
I can still see you.
The sentence repeated itself inside my head.
Again.
And again.
And again.
I forced myself to take a slow breath.
Think logically.
Someone was playing a prank.
That was the obvious explanation.
The only reasonable explanation.
Maybe another group had been in the forest.
Maybe someone had seen us.
Maybe somebody edited the photograph.
People fake supernatural images every day.
Social media practically runs on fabricated nonsense.
That made sense.
It had to make sense.
Because the alternative didn't.
The alternative implied something had followed us.
Something that knew my number.
Something that knew who I was.
Something that was still watching.
No.
Impossible.
Humans have an unfortunate tendency to mistake fear for evidence.
Just because something felt wrong didn't mean it was supernatural.
The brain is a pattern-recognition machine.
Give it darkness and uncertainty, and it'll manufacture monsters on its own.
Pareidolia.
Confirmation bias.
Anxiety.
There were dozens of explanations.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Every single one more reasonable than the conclusion my instincts kept trying to reach.
I rubbed my forehead.
The problem was...
None of those explanations made me feel any better.
Because deep down, beneath all the logic and rationalization and desperately constructed theories...
A small part of me already knew something.
Something I didn't want to admit.
The image hadn't scared me because it was impossible.
It had scared me because it felt familiar.
As though I had already seen that figure before.
As though some forgotten part of my mind recognized it.
And that thought frightened me far more than the photograph itself.
The conversation around the table continued.
Arguments.
Laughter.
Complaints.
Normal human noise.
The kind of noise people create when they're trying not to think too hard about the darkness.
I watched them quietly.
And suddenly understood something.
Maybe humanity's greatest survival mechanism isn't courage.
Maybe it isn't intelligence.
Maybe it isn't hope.
Maybe it's denial.
The incredible ability to stare directly into the abyss...
And still argue about pizza five minutes later.
Because if we couldn't do that—
If we truly understood how little we know about the world—
We'd never sleep again.
My phone remained silent after that.
No additional messages.
No new photographs.
Nothing.
Yet somehow...
That made everything worse.
Because silence leaves room for imagination.
And imagination has always been far crueler than reality.
At least...
That's what I used to believe.
Dinner ended not long afterward.
Not because we were finished talking.
Because we were exhausted.
There is only so much fear a person can carry before the body decides it would rather focus on something simpler.
Food.
Fatigue.
The journey home.
Anything but the thing waiting at the edge of your thoughts.
Won Ho and Minho insisted on paying.
Apparently getting everyone trapped inside what might have been an interdimensional nightmare came with financial responsibility.
Xia immediately accepted their offer.
Then ordered dessert.
"Psychological damages," she explained.
Nobody argued.
Not even me.
The rain had weakened by the time we stepped outside.
The city glistened beneath the streetlights.
Reflections stretched across wet pavement.
Cars moved through shining roads.
Neon signs flickered softly in the distance.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Like reality itself was trying too hard.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
We simply stood beneath the restaurant awning, listening to the rain.
Then Won Ho stretched dramatically.
"Officially."
He cracked his back.
"I hate forests."
Xia snorted.
"You hate anywhere without internet."
"That's also true."
Minho laughed quietly.
The sound carried an uncomfortable amount of guilt.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Still..."
He looked at all of us.
"Thanks for coming."
The silence that followed wasn't hostile.
Just tired.
Minho genuinely looked sorry.
Which honestly felt stranger than the monsters.
I sighed.
"Next time invite me to a bookstore."
Won Ho made a face.
"That sounds incredibly boring."
"You say that after nearly getting eaten by a haunted ecosystem."
"..."
"..."
"Fair point."
Kimberly laughed.
A small laugh.
Soft.
Real.
For a few seconds everything felt lighter.
Human.
Almost warm.
Then Airi spoke.
Quietly.
So quietly we nearly missed it.
"We shouldn't go back."
Nobody answered immediately.
Because nobody disagreed.
Minho swallowed.
"Yeah."
Xia crossed her arms.
"We forget that place exists."
Won Ho nodded.
"Agreed."
Even I nodded.
Though we all knew forgetting wasn't really possible.
Some experiences leave scars.
Not visible ones.
The kind that settle somewhere behind your eyes.
The kind you carry forever.
We said our goodbyes shortly afterward.
One by one.
Everyone heading toward their own corner of the city.
Toward their own version of safety.
Kimberly lingered.
Of course she did.
Then she looked at me.
"I'm walking with you."
It wasn't phrased like a question.
I could have argued.
Normally I would have.
But tonight...
I didn't want to be alone.
So I simply nodded.
And together we started walking.
The city felt strangely empty.
Not silent.
Never silent.
There were distant cars.
Muted conversations.
The hum of streetlights.
Rain tapping softly against umbrellas.
Yet somehow...
The world felt hollow.
Like something important had been removed.
Kimberly walked beside me beneath the umbrella.
Close.
Closer than usual.
For several minutes neither of us spoke.
That alone worried me.
Kimberly treated silence like a personal enemy.
If she wasn't talking, something was wrong.
I glanced toward her.
She stared ahead.
Lost in thought.
Eventually she broke the silence.
"Hey."
"Hm?"
She hesitated.
A rare thing.
"You really okay?"
The question sounded simple.
But I knew what she meant.
Not just tonight.
Not just the forest.
Everything.
The storm.
The hospital.
The headaches.
The way I'd been acting lately.
I looked toward the wet streets.
"I don't know."
For once...
It wasn't a lie.
Kimberly lowered her gaze.
"You scared me today."
Something inside my chest tightened.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not talking about the forest."
That surprised me.
I looked at her.
She was watching the pavement.
Avoiding eye contact.
Which somehow made the conversation feel even more serious.
"Since the storm..."
She paused.
"You've been different."
The words lingered between us.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Because I couldn't deny it.
I'd noticed it too.
The headaches.
The dreams.
The strange moments where reality felt thinner than it should.
The feeling that something had changed.
Or awakened.
And that possibility terrified me.
"I'm just tired."
The lie sounded weak even to me.
Kimberly sighed.
"You are genuinely awful at lying."
A small laugh escaped me.
"Thank you."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Rain drummed softly against the umbrella.
For a while neither of us spoke.
Then Kimberly continued.
"When I found you after the storm..."
My heartbeat slowed.
Just slightly.
Dangerously.
She rarely talked about that night.
Neither of us did.
"You looked terrified."
Images flashed through my mind.
The violet flames.
The blood.
The woman.
The voice.
The impossible things I'd spent weeks trying to rationalize.
I shoved them away immediately.
Trauma.
Stress.
Hallucinations.
The human brain was flawed.
There were explanations.
There had to be.
"Dark."
Kimberly's voice pulled me back.
I looked at her.
She met my gaze directly.
And what I saw there surprised me.
Fear.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for me.
"You don't have to carry everything alone."
The words struck harder than they should have.
So I looked away.
Because sometimes kindness hurts more than cruelty.
Cruelty is easy.
Predictable.
Distance is safe.
But genuine concern...
That requires vulnerability.
And vulnerability has always been dangerous.
"I'm not carrying anything."
Another lie.
Kimberly didn't even bother responding immediately.
Instead she simply stared at me.
Patiently.
The way someone watches a child trying to hide while standing in the middle of an empty room.
Finally she sighed.
"Dark."
"Hm?"
"I've known you since we were kids."
"Yet you still choose to associate with me."
"Unfortunately."
That earned a small smile from both of us.
Thank God.
I needed that.
Because every time silence returned...
My thoughts drifted back to the photograph.
To the message.
To the thing standing among the trees.
I can still see you.
A chill ran through me.
Kimberly noticed instantly.
"Cold?"
"No."
Too fast.
Again.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Another terrible lie."
I sighed.
"Maybe I'm just thinking too much."
"That one I believe."
We continued walking.
The rain gradually weakened.
Streetlights reflected across puddles like fragments of shattered stars.
For a brief moment...
Everything felt peaceful.
Then a thought escaped before I could stop it.
"Kim?"
"Yeah?"
I kept my eyes forward.
"Do you think people actually want the truth?"
She looked surprised.
"That's random."
"Answer anyway."
She thought for a moment.
"I guess so."
I shook my head slightly.
"What if some truths destroy the people who learn them?"
Kimberly frowned.
The rain filled the silence.
"What brought this on?"
I took a slow breath.
"Everyone says they want answers."
My eyes remained fixed on the street ahead.
"They want to understand the world."
I paused.
"But what if understanding comes with a cost?"
The city lights blurred across the wet pavement.
"What if some things exist beyond us for a reason?"
Kimberly didn't answer immediately.
So I continued.
"Maybe there are truths the human mind was never meant to process completely."
The words sounded ridiculous.
Yet somehow...
They felt honest.
More honest than anything else I'd said that night.
Eventually Kimberly spoke.
Softly.
"Maybe."
I glanced toward her.
She offered a small smile.
"But I'd still rather know."
Of course she would.
That was Kimberly.
Braver than she realized.
More stubborn than she admitted.
And infinitely more willing to face reality than I was.
Because the truth was simple.
I didn't want answers.
Not really.
I wanted reassurance.
I wanted the universe to make sense again.
And deep down...
I was beginning to suspect it never had.
By the time we reached my street, the rain had nearly stopped.
Only a few droplets still fell from telephone wires and tree branches.
The city seemed exhausted.
As though it, too, had survived something unpleasant and simply wanted to sleep.
My house stood at the end of the road.
Dark.
Silent.
Exactly as I had left it.
No lights.
No voices.
No movement behind the windows.
Just a structure full of empty rooms pretending to be a home.
Kimberly slowed slightly.
I noticed her glance toward the house.
Then toward me.
Then back at the house again.
Neither of us said anything for a few seconds.
Sometimes silence says enough.
"Well..."
Kimberly finally crossed her arms.
"Promise me something."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That depends."
Her expression immediately narrowed.
A warning sign.
"If you start hearing weird voices again..."
She pointed a finger at me.
"Or seeing creepy things..."
The finger moved closer.
"You tell me."
I couldn't help smiling.
"That sounds exactly like something a future psychiatric patient would say."
She immediately punched my arm.
Not hard.
Just enough.
"I'm serious, idiot."
The smile faded slightly.
Because she was.
I looked at her beneath the pale glow of the streetlights.
Rainwater shimmered on the pavement around us.
The city felt distant.
Muted.
And for the first time all night...
Lying felt difficult.
Because I wanted to tell her.
I wanted to tell her everything.
About the woman in violet fire.
About the dreams.
About the headaches.
About the photograph.
About the growing certainty that something had changed inside me since the storm.
But saying those things aloud would make them real.
And I wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
So instead...
I nodded.
"I'll tell you."
The lie tasted bitter.
Kimberly sighed immediately.
Which meant she knew.
Of course she knew.
She always knew.
But thankfully...
She didn't push further.
Instead she simply smiled.
A tired smile.
A worried one.
"Get some sleep, okay?"
"I'll try."
For a moment she hesitated.
As though she wanted to say something else.
Something important.
But whatever it was...
She kept it to herself.
"Good night, Dark."
"Good night, Kim."
I watched her disappear around the corner.
Slowly.
Gradually.
Until she was gone.
And then...
The silence returned.
Not the comfortable kind.
The heavy kind.
The kind that reminds you nobody is waiting inside.
Nobody is going to ask how your day went.
Nobody is going to notice if you don't sleep.
Nobody is going to hear you scream.
Just silence.
I pulled my keys from my pocket.
Unlocked the door.
And stepped inside.
Immediately, something felt wrong.
The air was colder than it should have been.
Not freezing.
Just...
Wrong.
Like entering a room that had been empty for too long.
I frowned.
Maybe I had left a window open.
Though I always checked before leaving.
Twice.
Because unlike normal people, I possessed the soul of an eighty-year-old librarian trapped inside a teenager's body.
I closed the door behind me.
The sound echoed through the house.
Sharp.
Hollow.
Final.
Silence swallowed everything afterward.
I dropped my backpack beside the couch.
Then immediately threw myself onto the floor.
Flat on my back.
Staring at the ceiling.
"Why do I do this when I literally own a couch?"
No answer.
A tragedy.
The floor remained emotionally unavailable.
I stayed there for several moments.
Listening.
The refrigerator humming somewhere in the distance.
The occasional tap of rain against the windows.
The old wooden frame settling.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing supernatural.
Just a house.
Just a normal house.
So why did it feel like something was watching?
I closed my eyes.
Instant regret.
The forest returned immediately.
The fog.
The whispers.
The impossible smile.
The thing standing behind us.
The feeling that something had recognized me.
I opened my eyes again.
"No."
I sat up.
Rubbed both hands across my face.
"Enough."
Taking a deep breath, I began listing possibilities.
A habit.
A defense mechanism.
A ritual.
"Anxiety."
I raised one finger.
"Stress."
A second.
"Collective hysteria."
A third.
"Sleep deprivation."
A fourth.
I paused.
"...and admittedly a disturbingly suspicious bone."
That one was harder to explain.
I sighed.
The problem with rationality is that it works wonderfully...
Until reality starts stacking impossible things on top of each other.
At some point, logic stops feeling like an answer.
And starts feeling like a shield.
I pushed myself to my feet.
Opened my backpack.
And immediately forgot every problem in existence.
The book.
The Grimoire of Black Tears.
My eyes practically lit up.
"Oh."
I carefully lifted it out.
Holding it with both hands.
The crimson-and-black cover absorbed the dim light of the room.
Golden patterns twisted across the surface like roots tangled with metallic tears.
Even closed...
The book had presence.
Weight.
Not physical weight.
Something else.
Something harder to define.
And honestly...
That was exactly why I loved books.
Every book feels alive.
Not literally.
Usually.
But books contain people.
Thoughts.
Memories.
Pieces of minds preserved long after those minds are gone.
Humanity's closest approximation of immortality.
A small smile appeared.
"Yeah."
I nodded to myself.
"I definitely need therapy."
Before opening it, I went straight to the sink.
Because I am civilized.
Unlike barbarians who touch books with dirty hands.
I washed them carefully.
Soap.
Water.
Twice.
Between every finger.
Properly.
"The sacred text demands respect."
Several minutes later I returned to the living room.
Sat down against the couch.
And placed the grimoire on my lap.
For a moment...
I simply stared at it.
The storm.
The forest.
The photograph.
Everything faded into the background.
Only the book remained.
Waiting.
Patiently.
As though it had known I would come back to it eventually.
Then I placed my hand upon the cover.
And slowly opened it.
The scent hit immediately.
Paper.
Fresh ink.
Varnish.
Wood.
That unmistakable aroma unique to premium editions.
I closed my eyes.
And inhaled deeply.
"Holy..."
Another breath.
Longer this time.
"This should legally qualify as antidepressant medication."
For the first time that entire day...
I felt calm.
Not safe.
Not happy.
Just calm.
And after everything that had happened...
That was more than enough.
I don't know how long I spent reading.
Time behaves strangely around good books.
Minutes become hours.
Hours disappear entirely.
One page becomes ten.
Ten become fifty.
And before you realize it, reality has quietly slipped out of the room.
Only the story remains.
The rain continued tapping softly against the windows while I sat on the living room floor.
The Grimoire of Black Tears rested on my lap.
Its pages illuminated by the small lamp beside the couch.
And little by little...
The noise inside my head began to fade.
That was what books had always done for me.
They silenced things.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Loneliness.
The endless static of existence.
Books were simple.
They had rules.
A beginning.
A middle.
An end.
Reality had none of those luxuries.
Neither did people.
I turned another page.
Then another.
The prose flowed effortlessly.
Elegant.
Melancholic.
Beautiful in the same way abandoned cathedrals are beautiful.
The writing carried a sadness that never begged for sympathy.
It simply existed.
Quietly.
Honestly.
And maybe that was why I loved EAE's work so much.
Most stories pretend life makes sense.
His never did.
His characters weren't rewarded for being good.
The universe wasn't fair.
Pain wasn't poetic.
Yet somehow...
His books always found beauty in that.
As if meaning wasn't something discovered.
As if it was something created.
I continued reading.
Completely absorbed.
Until a particular page stopped me.
The illustration occupied both pages.
A massive tree.
Black.
Twisted.
Ancient.
Its roots spread across the earth like veins.
And from its branches...
Dark crimson tears dripped endlessly toward the ground.
My fingers froze.
The room suddenly felt colder.
I stared at the image.
Then leaned closer.
Studying every detail.
Every branch.
Every root.
Every impossible curve of the trunk.
A chill slowly crawled up my spine.
"...No."
The word escaped before I realized it.
Because I recognized it.
Not vaguely.
Not symbolically.
I recognized it completely.
The tree.
The exact same tree.
The one where I met Natasha.
The one standing at the center of everything that had gone wrong.
The one that appeared in my nightmares.
My heartbeat slowed.
Then accelerated.
I looked again.
Searching for differences.
Anything.
A different branch.
A different shape.
A different root pattern.
Nothing.
It was identical.
A perfect match.
I swallowed.
Then laughed nervously.
"That's ridiculous."
My voice sounded hollow inside the empty house.
"Trees look similar."
I nodded to myself.
Trying to sound convincing.
"Congratulations, Dark."
I turned the page.
"You've successfully discovered botany."
The joke didn't help.
Not even a little.
Because deep down...
I already knew.
This wasn't resemblance.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was the same tree.
And somehow...
That terrified me more than anything I had seen inside the forest.
I kept reading.
Or at least I pretended to.
My eyes followed the words.
My mind remained trapped on that illustration.
Hours passed.
The rain eventually stopped.
The city grew quieter.
And when I finally checked my phone...
The screen nearly gave me a heart attack.
1:47 AM.
"...Damn."
I rubbed my eyes.
School.
Right.
Apparently society still expected participation despite existential horrors.
I carefully closed the book.
Running my fingers across the cover one final time.
Then carried it toward my bookshelf.
An empty space waited there.
Prepared weeks ago.
Specifically for this book.
Yes.
I had reserved a place for it.
No.
I felt absolutely no shame.
The grimoire settled perfectly between the other novels.
As if it had always belonged there.
Then I turned off the lamp.
Darkness immediately swallowed the room.
The house became silent again.
Too silent.
I climbed the stairs toward my bedroom.
Yawning.
Exhausted.
Ready to collapse.
Then something made me glance toward the hallway window.
Just for a second.
A reflex.
Nothing more.
And for one impossible moment...
I thought I saw someone standing outside.
Tall.
Motionless.
Watching the house.
My entire body froze.
The figure remained there.
A dark silhouette beneath the lingering rain.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I spun toward the window.
Immediately.
Nothing.
The street was empty.
Only shadows.
Only darkness.
Only rainwater reflecting distant lights.
I stared for several seconds.
Waiting.
Watching.
Nothing moved.
Eventually I exhaled.
A shaky breath.
"Perfect."
I rubbed my face.
"Now I'm hallucinating people too."
I entered my room.
Collapsed onto the bed.
And within minutes...
Sleep claimed me.
...
...
I don't know when the dream began.
Or if it was a dream at all.
Because it felt too real.
Rain fell endlessly from a sky without stars.
Black rain.
Cold rain.
Ancient rain.
And standing before me...
Was her.
The woman from the storm.
The woman surrounded by violet fire.
Only now she looked different.
Blood covered her.
Not stains.
Not splatters.
Blood.
Fresh.
Dark.
Running down her hands.
Dripping from her fingertips.
Pooling beneath her feet.
The violet flames continued burning around her.
Silent.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
And before her...
Another woman knelt.
Her body had been pierced by enormous black roots.
They emerged from the earth.
From her chest.
From her back.
From everywhere.
As though the world itself had grown through her.
Her hair drifted around her like strands of midnight silk moving underwater.
And despite everything...
Despite the blood.
Despite the roots.
Despite the impossible scene—
She was beautiful.
Unnaturally so.
Then her eyes moved.
And looked directly at me.
Not at the woman holding the sword.
Not at the roots.
At me.
As though she knew exactly who I was.
As though she had been waiting.
The woman of violet fire slowly raised her blade.
A black sword engulfed by silent flames.
Then drove it through the other's chest.
The sound echoed through the rain.
Wet.
Final.
The dying woman smiled.
And my blood turned cold.
Because she wasn't looking at her killer.
She was still looking at me.
Her lips moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And her voice appeared directly inside my mind.
Not in my ears.
Inside me.
"Run, child..."
The world trembled.
The roots began to move.
Thousands of whispers erupted from the darkness.
The dying woman never looked away.
"She will come for you."
Everything shattered.
And I woke up.
Gasping.
My body shot upright.
My bedroom was dark.
My heart felt ready to explode.
Breath tore from my lungs.
Fast.
Uneven.
Painfully real.
I pressed a hand against my face.
Something warm touched my fingers.
Blood.
Again.
A thin stream flowed from my nose.
"...Great."
I stumbled toward the nightstand.
Grabbed a handful of tissues.
Pressed them against my face.
Then the headache returned.
Not gradually.
Immediately.
Like a spike driven through my skull.
"Agh..."
I squeezed my eyes shut.
The pressure built behind them.
Inside them.
As though something was trying to force its way into existence from the other side of my thoughts.
"Not again..."
I staggered toward the bathroom.
Turned on the light.
And looked into the mirror.
The reflection staring back looked awful.
Pale skin.
Dark circles.
Blood beneath my nose.
Eyes that hadn't truly rested in weeks.
For a moment...
I barely recognized myself.
I opened the medicine cabinet.
Took out the pills.
The usual ones.
The ones for sleep.
The headaches.
The panic.
The illusion of normality.
I swallowed two.
Paused.
Then swallowed a third.
"If this kills me..."
I stared at my reflection.
"...at least I won't have to go to school tomorrow."
No laughter followed.
Not even from me.
I stood there quietly.
Watching myself.
And for the first time...
A disturbing thought crossed my mind.
Maybe nothing was wrong with my mind.
Maybe something was wrong with reality.
The idea should have sounded insane.
Instead...
It felt plausible.
That scared me more than the dream.
More than the blood.
More than the voices.
I turned off the bathroom light.
Returned to my room.
And collapsed onto the bed once more.
The clock beside me read 2:13 AM.
Wonderful.
Absolutely fantastic.
I buried my face into the pillow.
"Please..."
My voice sounded exhausted.
"Just let me sleep."
The headache lingered.
The dream lingered.
The image of the dying woman lingered.
And somewhere deep inside my mind...
Her final words continued repeating endlessly.
Like a curse.
Like a warning.
Like a promise.
She will come for you.
I didn't know who she was.
And honestly...
I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.
CHAPTER 4 – THE FESTIVAL OF MASKS
Another day of classes.
Another day of noise.
Another day where everyone pretended growing up actually meant something.
Rain tapped softly against the classroom windows while the teacher wrote something equally forgettable on the holographic board. Outside, the towering spires of Alida rose through layers of mist and endless advertisements that never truly shut off.
Aethra never slept.
It simply changed faces depending on the hour.
I rested my head against my hand and stared at the gray sky beyond the glass.
Thirty-eight hours per day.
One thousand days per year.
And humanity still insisted there was never enough time.
What an interesting contradiction.
"Alright, everyone."
The teacher's voice cut through the classroom chatter.
"As you already know, next week we'll be celebrating the Annual Night Festival. This year it also coincides with the academy's anniversary, so there will be food stands, performances, and various nighttime activities."
Several students immediately cheered.
Others simply welcomed the excuse to stop pretending they were paying attention.
"This year's theme will be Bestial Masks. Every student must wear an animal mask during the festival."
Masks.
Interesting.
Civilizations had always associated masks with celebrations.
The idea had never made much sense to me.
A mask existed to conceal a face.
But if you thought about it long enough...
Human faces were masks too.
Just harder to remove.
"Hey, Dark."
I slowly turned toward Xia.
She wore the same bright expression that always appeared whenever social events demanded excessive amounts of energy.
"Are you excited for the festival?"
I studied her for a moment.
"Not really."
"What? Why?"
I sighed.
"I have a date with Kimberly's older sister today."
The silence lasted exactly two seconds.
Then Xia slammed both hands onto her desk so hard that even the teacher stopped speaking for a moment.
"A WHAT?"
Half the classroom immediately turned toward us.
A few rows behind, Kimberly calmly closed the book she had been reading.
"My sister bought Dark's medication."
Xia slowly turned toward her.
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"She asked him out as thanks."
Now Xia was looking at me as though I had just announced plans to sell my organs on the black market.
"And you agreed?"
I considered the question carefully.
The medication I needed cost more than everything currently sitting inside my refrigerator.
"I suppose I did."
Xia slammed the desk again.
"What if she'd asked for something worse?!"
I looked at her quietly.
Most people answered immediately when pressured emotionally.
I never did.
I usually thought too much before speaking.
Sometimes long after I should have.
"Depends on how necessary the medication was."
The entire classroom went silent.
Even Kimberly blinked.
"Dark..."
She stared at me.
"That sounded way more depressing than you think it did."
"It's just logic."
Because it was.
People romanticized dignity far too much when they had never been forced to choose between dignity and survival.
Xia leaned forward.
For once, she looked completely serious.
"Listen carefully."
She pointed directly at me.
"If you ever need medicine again, you'll tell me."
I blinked.
"That sounded strangely threatening."
"Because it is."
Kimberly covered her mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
But Xia wasn't finished.
"I refuse to let that woman get anywhere near you again."
Woman.
An interesting choice of words considering Alya was only a few years older than us.
"Xia..."
"No. Listen."
She planted both hands on my desk.
"People always try to take advantage of those they think are broken."
For a brief second, her expression softened.
"And you're too much of an idiot to notice when someone is doing it."
Something about those words felt strangely uncomfortable.
Not sadness.
Not happiness.
Something else.
Like someone had opened a door I had spent years trying to keep shut.
I looked away toward the rain-covered window.
Droplets slid down the glass.
Sometimes I thought cities cried too.
People simply never listened closely enough to hear it.
"Hehehe..."
A slow laugh escaped Xia.
A disturbingly villainous laugh.
Kimberly immediately looked at her.
"Xia."
"Yes?"
"Can you stop saying your evil plans out loud?"
She froze.
"What?"
Kimberly sighed.
"You literally just muttered, 'If I buy his medication he'll become emotionally dependent on me.'"
Xia's face turned bright red.
"I DID NOT SAY THAT!"
"You did."
"I DIDN'T!"
"You even struck a villain pose while saying it."
Laughter erupted across the room.
Xia immediately bolted toward the classroom door while shouting incomprehensible accusations about conspiracies and slander.
The teacher attempted to stop her.
The attempt failed miserably.
I rested my head on my hand once more.
"People really have too much energy."
Minho suddenly appeared behind me with a grin.
"And you have far too little."
"I suppose nature likes balance."
He laughed before sitting on the edge of my desk.
"Hey, Dark. Have you thought about what mask you'll wear?"
I considered it.
Not really.
But masks were interesting things.
The more perfect a mask became...
The more terrifying whatever it hid underneath tended to be.
The rest of the class passed in endless discussions about decorations, budgets, food stands, and plans that would almost certainly be ignored at the last minute.
Just like every school event in history.
The difference between an organized society and a group of teenagers was much smaller than humanity liked to admit.
Then, right on schedule—
The classroom door burst open.
"Alright!"
Xia returned as if nothing had happened.
Not even I bothered asking how she had convinced the teacher to let her back in.
The answer was probably psychological warfare.
"As class president, I officially declare the festival preparations underway!"
And just like that, the chaos truly began.
The classroom immediately descended into chaos.
"Silence, citizens."
Xia stood in front of the room with a digital tablet in one hand and the confidence of a dictator preparing to invade a neighboring continent.
Minho raised his hand.
"Didn't that sound a little authoritarian?"
"Silence, citizen."
"Understood, President Xia."
"Excellent."
She nodded approvingly before turning toward the class.
"Food stand ideas."
A girl near the back instantly raised her hand.
"Hamburgers!"
The entire classroom approved the idea without hesitation.
Naturally.
Human civilization had been built on less important things than meat between two pieces of bread.
Xia quickly wrote the suggestion onto the classroom display.
"Perfect. Hamburgers. Drinks?"
"Soda."
"Juice."
"Milkshakes."
"Alcohol."
The entire room slowly turned toward Won Ho.
"What?" he asked.
"The festival is at night."
"We're still minors."
"Technical details."
Without warning, Kimberly launched a notebook directly at his head.
A perfect hit.
"Focus, idiot."
Won Ho rubbed his forehead while laughing.
"Every day you become more violent, Kim."
"And every day you become dumber."
"The balance of the universe."
Xia continued organizing assignments until someone raised a hand from the far corner.
"President Xia?"
"Yes?"
The student grinned.
"We all know the only reason you're taking this festival so seriously is because Dark will be here."
Silence.
Slow.
Dangerous silence.
I immediately felt the emotional temperature of the room drop several degrees.
Then Minho decided to commit social suicide.
"Well... Natasha has been paying a lot of attention to Dark lately too."
The silence became worse.
Much worse.
Xia slowly picked up a marker.
"Minho."
"Yes?"
"Run."
The marker struck directly between his eyes.
A perfect shot.
Won Ho laughed.
Second marker.
Critical damage.
The third student attempted to hide beneath his desk.
It did not help.
"One more comment like that," Xia said with a disturbingly pleasant smile, "and I'll conduct an experiment to determine exactly how many markers the human body can survive."
All three immediately nodded.
"Understood."
"Excellent."
Kimberly sighed.
"Sometimes I worry you have tyrannical tendencies."
"Sometimes I worry you're still friends with these idiots."
"Fair point."
While everyone continued arguing, I simply watched.
The noise.
The laughter.
The excitement.
It was strange.
People seemed genuinely happy doing simple things.
Organizing festivals.
Choosing decorations.
Arguing about hamburger toppings.
Laughing.
Pretending the world wasn't broken.
Maybe that was happiness.
Not some overwhelming emotion.
Just the ability to temporarily ignore the void.
"Dark."
Kimberly's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Hm?"
"What kind of hamburger do you like?"
I considered the question.
"Spicy ones."
Won Ho immediately looked up.
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"You're a masochist."
"No."
I leaned back slightly.
"I just like feeling something."
The classroom fell silent for a moment.
Minho blinked slowly.
"...Dark, every day you sound more like the protagonist of a depressing novel."
"Maybe because I live inside one."
"That didn't help."
Not even slightly.
Xia buried her face in her hands.
"Why are all your answers like this?"
"I don't know."
"That's somehow worse."
Laughter spread across the room again.
For a brief moment, I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then my phone vibrated inside my pocket.
A message.
Alya.
I opened it.
"Sorry, Dark. Something came up at work and I had to leave the city. Can we postpone the date until the Day of Liv?"
I read the message twice.
Then locked the screen.
And for the first time all day—
I felt relief.
That probably said something concerning about me.
"Bad news?"
I looked up.
Kimberly was watching me.
"The date got postponed."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"And yet you look happier."
I looked toward the rain-covered window.
The massive towers of Alida glowed beneath the storm clouds.
Sometimes I thought the entire world was a machine desperately trying to hide something beneath endless layers of light and concrete.
And sometimes...
I thought the problem was simply me.
Because while everyone else seemed to move naturally toward the future...
I always felt like an observer standing outside my own life.
Like my existence had started too late.
Or perhaps—
Like it was never supposed to begin at all.
By the time classes ended, most of the students had already left.
The room slowly emptied.
Conversations faded.
Desks scraped against the floor.
Excitement about the festival echoed through the hallways.
Everyone was talking about costumes.
Masks.
Food.
Confessions.
Photographs.
Everyone except me.
I packed my bag quietly while staring out the window.
The last traces of sunlight painted the clouds in shades of crimson and violet.
The sky looked wounded.
"Hey, Dark."
Kimberly was still sitting on top of her desk.
Swinging one leg gently.
Watching me.
There was something unusual in her expression.
As though she wanted to say something important but couldn't find the words.
"What is it?"
She hesitated.
Then spoke.
"Lately..."
Her voice softened.
"You look more tired than usual."
A quiet laugh escaped me.
"Lately?"
She frowned.
"You know what I mean."
I did.
The exhaustion had become worse.
Much worse.
Not ordinary exhaustion.
Something deeper.
As though my body had grown tired of existing.
As though every thought weighed too much.
As though my mind had been awake for centuries.
I slung my bag over my shoulder.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
The answer came immediately.
Without hesitation.
Without mercy.
Kimberly lowered her gaze.
Then spoke again.
"Sometimes I feel like..."
She paused.
"Sometimes I feel like you don't expect anything from life anymore."
That made me stop.
Not because she was wrong.
Because she had reached the truth far too quickly.
I stared at her.
She looked away.
Almost embarrassed.
"I say that because..."
She swallowed.
"Even when you smile, it feels like you're pretending."
The classroom became silent.
Heavy silence.
The kind that forces you to hear your own thoughts.
Eventually I sighed.
"Maybe everyone is pretending."
Kimberly looked at me again.
"What do you mean?"
I leaned against the wall.
"People smile when they're broken."
"People say they're fine when they want to disappear."
"People fall in love even though they know they'll lose that person someday."
I closed my eyes briefly.
"People keep living even after they realize everything ends the same way."
Silence.
Then—
"I guess existing means getting used to pretending things make sense."
Kimberly didn't answer immediately.
Because she knew I meant every word.
Eventually she spoke.
"No."
I opened my eyes.
"Those aren't stupid thoughts."
Her voice was quiet.
Warm.
And somehow that made me more uncomfortable than being mocked.
Because once someone validates your thoughts...
They stop feeling imaginary.
Kimberly slowly stepped closer.
"Dark."
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Have you ever wanted to die?"
The question landed between us without warning.
Like a stone sinking into dark water.
I looked toward the window.
Toward the city lights beginning to awaken outside.
Toward the coming festival.
Toward the empty feeling that never truly left.
Finally I answered.
"I don't think I want to die."
I paused.
"But I don't think I'm really living either."
Kimberly lowered her head.
And for the first time since I'd met her—
She had no answer.
Then—
The classroom door exploded open.
"DARK!"
Xia stormed inside carrying several boxes and decorative supplies.
"Why are you two still here?! Everyone already started preparing for the festival!"
Her eyes moved from Kimberly.
To me.
Then narrowed immediately.
"...Did I interrupt something?"
Kimberly sighed.
"Yes."
"What?"
"Your daily romantic tragedy."
Xia froze.
"My WHAT?"
And just like that—
The moment shattered.
The rest of the afternoon disappeared beneath decorations, cardboard boxes, and organized chaos.
Or rather—
Xia's version of organized chaos.
"Drinks go on the left!"
"Don't mix the sauces!"
"WHO PUT THE CAKES NEXT TO THE SODAS?!"
Students ran through hallways carrying banners, tables, lights, and supplies while Xia barked orders like a military commander preparing for an invasion.
Minho leaned toward me while carrying a box.
"I think Xia was born either to rule a nation or start a war."
"Probably both."
He laughed nervously.
"She scares me when she gets serious."
I glanced toward her.
Xia was arguing with Héctor while holding a notebook against her chest. Her hair moved gently in the breeze flowing through the open corridor.
For a moment...
She looked happy.
And that was strange.
Because even happy people carried broken things inside them.
Some were simply better at hiding the cracks.
"Dark."
I turned.
Airi stood nearby holding a box filled with festival masks.
As always, she avoided direct eye contact.
"Could you help me bring these to the storage room later?"
I nodded.
"Sure."
Before she could respond, another voice called my name.
"Dark!"
I looked up.
Won Ho was waving his arms dramatically from the opposite side of the courtyard.
"You look like you're trying to land an aircraft."
"I NEED HELP!"
"That explains it."
Several students laughed.
Won Ho ignored them.
"Come here!"
Sighing, I walked toward him.
The festival grounds were beginning to take shape.
Black and silver decorations hung between buildings.
Artificial lanterns swayed gently in the wind.
Dozens of students wore unfinished animal masks while preparing booths.
The entire academy felt different.
Like a stage preparing for a performance.
Or a ritual.
I wasn't sure which.
As I walked, something brushed against my right ear.
I stopped.
Frowning.
There was a small white corner sticking out from beneath my wolf mask.
"A note?"
I carefully pulled it free.
The paper felt old.
Far older than it should have.
At the top, written in clean English letters, was a title.
In the First Shadow
Beneath it were words written in a language I had never seen before.
Bi þatei nahts afswalt namō seina,
Daurōns ananijaiþ.
Spekula drigkai fruma.
Sa spēdist sa saiƕands wairþiþ sa spēdist du gamunan.
"What kind of language is this?"
I pulled out my phone.
The translator failed immediately.
No results.
No matches.
Nothing.
Then something strange happened.
A dark droplet fell onto the paper.
Ink.
At least that was what I thought at first.
The liquid spread across the page.
The foreign words shimmered.
And beneath them, new text slowly appeared.
As though the paper itself were translating.
When the night forgets its name,
the door will breathe.
The mirror shall drink first.
The last to look shall be the last to remember.
I stared at the note.
Several seconds passed.
Then I shrugged.
"That's a weird riddle."
No response came from the universe.
As usual.
I folded the paper carefully.
There was a faint scent lingering on it.
Something floral.
Sweet.
Familiar.
Black roses.
The flowers that grew in the forbidden forests beyond the city.
An odd choice.
Still...
I slipped the note into my pocket.
Probably some elaborate prank.
At least that was what I told myself.
Then I continued walking.
Completely unaware that my wolf mask had begun to drip red wax.
One drop at a time.
Onto the ground behind me.
"I should get something to eat."
"Dark!"
Won Ho's voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up.
"What do you need?"
He finally caught his breath.
"There are still decoration boxes in the auditorium."
Of course there were.
"Could you bring them?"
I sighed.
"Fine."
"You're a lifesaver."
"No. I'm unpaid labor."
I started jogging toward the auditorium.
Moments later I heard footsteps beside me.
Kimberly.
"Fancy seeing you here."
"Were you sent too?"
She nodded sheepishly.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
"For forgetting to tell you everyone was already working."
I shrugged.
"It's fine."
And surprisingly...
It was.
The auditorium was nearly empty when we arrived.
Only rows of seats, old curtains, and shadows remained.
We gathered several boxes and carried them outside.
Then returned to lock up the building.
As I reached for the door—
Something caught my eye.
The academy piano.
It sat alone beneath a spotlight.
Silent.
Waiting.
I walked toward it.
The polished surface reflected the dim light overhead.
"I haven't played in a while."
My fingers brushed across several keys.
Soft notes echoed through the empty auditorium.
Then—
Something slid free from between two keys.
A folded piece of paper.
Again.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
I picked it up.
Another title.
The Dance of Crows
Below it—
More unfamiliar writing.
Hrabnōs ni grētand.
Bagmōs nih jah.
Iþ ba gamunand.
Jah þata gamunandō ni hwairbiþ.
I touched the page.
The black symbols immediately shimmered gold.
And the translation appeared.
The crows do not weep.
Neither do the trees.
Yet both remember.
And that which remembers never dies.
A chill ran down my spine.
This one felt different.
Older.
Heavier.
I turned the page over.
A drawing covered the back.
A massive tree.
Its roots twisted together to form a single word.
My name.
Dark.
"What kind of psychopath makes these?"
Kimberly stepped beside me.
She took the note and examined it carefully.
"Can I keep this?"
"For what?"
"Research."
"That somehow worries me."
Kim ignored the comment.
Then suddenly her eyes narrowed.
She stared into the darkness beyond the stage.
"Did you see that?"
"See what?"
No answer.
Only silence.
Kimberly slowly lowered the note.
"I thought I saw someone."
The darkness remained motionless.
Empty.
At least...
It appeared empty.
After several more seconds she shook her head.
"Never mind."
But the uncertainty in her voice remained.
And neither of us noticed—
That somewhere beyond the curtains...
Someone was watching.
A woman.
Motionless.
Wearing a black crow mask.
Waiting.
I eventually left the auditorium.
The second note remained folded inside my pocket.
The scent of black roses still lingered faintly on the paper.
I didn't like that.
There was something unsettling about receiving messages from someone who clearly knew where I was at all times.
Still...
The festival preparations continued.
And hunger was currently a much bigger problem than cosmic mysteries.
"Seriously..."
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I need food."
The afternoon sun had already begun sinking behind the towers of Alida.
Long shadows stretched across the academy grounds.
Students moved between booths and decorations while music played from temporary speakers.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
As if reality itself were trying a little too hard.
I continued walking toward the cafeteria area.
Completely unaware that someone was watching me.
Back inside the auditorium—
Kimberly had not moved.
The second note remained in her hands.
She stared into the darkness beyond the stage.
Waiting.
The feeling had not disappeared.
Someone was there.
She knew it.
The shadows near the curtains shifted.
Barely.
Almost imperceptibly.
Kimberly narrowed her eyes.
"Stop hiding."
Silence.
No answer.
She took a step forward.
"I know you're there."
The darkness remained still.
Then—
A figure emerged.
Not from behind the curtains.
Not from a doorway.
It almost seemed as though she had always been standing there.
A tall woman dressed in black.
A crow mask concealed her face.
Its surface reflected no light.
No eyes were visible beneath it.
No skin.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Kimberly immediately tensed.
"Who are you?"
The woman tilted her head slightly.
Graceful.
Almost curious.
But she said nothing.
Kim crossed her arms.
"Why are you following Dark?"
For several seconds the woman remained silent.
Then she finally spoke.
Her voice was calm.
Elegant.
Refined.
And somehow impossibly old.
"Because you would not know what to do with him."
Kimberly blinked.
"What?"
The woman took a slow step backward.
The shadows around her seemed deeper than the rest of the room.
As if darkness itself preferred her company.
"You see a boy."
Her voice remained gentle.
"But that is not what he is."
Kimberly frowned.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
No answer came.
Only silence.
The Crow Woman turned.
And walked into the darkness beyond the stage.
A moment later—
She was gone.
Completely gone.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Nothing.
Kimberly stood frozen.
For the first time since meeting Dark...
She felt genuinely afraid.
Meanwhile—
I had finally located food.
Or rather—
Food had located me.
"Dark!"
Won Ho appeared carrying a fruit cake.
Where he found it, I had no idea.
"O wise guardian of pastries."
I sighed.
"What now?"
"Hold this."
Before I could refuse, the cake was already in my hands.
"I need to help with decorations."
"You could have simply said no."
"But then I'd still be holding the cake."
"Tragic."
"I know."
He ran off immediately.
Leaving me alone with the dessert.
I stared at it.
It actually looked pretty good.
Fresh fruit.
Cream.
Chocolate decorations.
My standards for happiness had clearly declined.
"Perfect."
I picked up a plastic fork.
"Food."
The universe immediately decided I was not allowed to enjoy anything.
"YOU IDIOT!"
Kimberly's voice echoed across the courtyard.
I barely had time to react before she slapped the plate out of my hands.
The cake crashed onto the ground.
Cream exploded everywhere.
Several students turned to look.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally—
"Kim."
"Yes?"
"Explain."
She pointed at the ruined dessert.
"That cake was poisoned."
I blinked.
"...What?"
"I saw a rat eat one of the strawberries earlier."
Silence.
"The rat died."
I looked at the cake.
Then at her.
Then back at the cake.
"That seems important."
"I thought so too."
Fair enough.
I crouched beside the ruined dessert.
Something looked strange.
There was a lump hidden inside the cake.
Carefully—
I reached into the destroyed pastry.
And pulled out a folded piece of paper.
The moment I touched it—
Children's laughter echoed inside my head.
I froze.
The sound lasted less than a second.
But it was enough.
Slowly I unfolded the note.
At the top—
A title.
The Last Mirror
Below it—
The same language.
The same impossible script.
Sa þiudans aland andawleitis ju draus miþ þus.
Duþē skaduwōs þuk kunnand.
Duþē spekulōs þuk ōgand.
The letters shifted.
Golden light spread across the page.
The translation appeared.
The faceless king has already dreamed of you.
That is why the shadows know your name.
That is why the mirrors fear you.
For several seconds I simply stared.
The words felt wrong.
Not because they were threatening.
Because they felt familiar.
As if I had heard them before.
Somewhere.
Somewhen.
Kimberly leaned closer.
"What does it say now?"
I lowered the note slowly.
"I don't know."
The answer escaped before I could stop it.
Then I laughed softly.
A dry laugh.
Humor without amusement.
"Either lies."
I folded the paper.
"Or prophecies."
Kimberly raised an eyebrow.
"Which one?"
I looked toward the darkening sky.
The city lights were beginning to awaken.
Like artificial stars.
"Maybe both."
The wind moved gently through the academy grounds.
Students laughed.
Music played.
Life continued.
Normal.
Ordinary.
Safe.
And yet—
Behind Kimberly—
Among the shadows cast by the nearby building—
The Crow Woman stood watching.
Motionless.
Silent.
Waiting.
Her mask seemed darker than the evening itself.
For a brief moment—
I thought I saw her.
Thought I saw the outline of black feathers.
Thought I saw something impossible.
Then she spoke.
Softly.
Almost affectionately.
"Prophecies are lies that have not happened yet, dear."
I turned immediately.
The shadows were empty.
No one stood there.
No footprints.
No movement.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Watching.
Listening.
Remembering.
Kimberly continued studying the note.
The strange symbols.
The impossible translation.
The scent of black roses lingering between the folds.
Meanwhile—
I needed a moment alone.
Or at least that was the excuse I gave myself.
My head had begun to ache again.
Not a normal headache.
Something deeper.
Something behind my eyes.
As though a second mind was trying to wake up inside my skull.
"I'll be back."
Kimberly looked up immediately.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No."
"That's not reassuring."
"I am literally going to the bathroom."
"Knowing you, that's somehow dangerous."
Fair point.
Still—
I left before she could continue.
The academy corridors felt different now.
The festival remained alive outside.
Music.
Laughter.
Conversations.
But inside the building—
Everything sounded distant.
Muted.
Like noises heard underwater.
The lights overhead flickered occasionally.
White.
Darkness.
White.
Darkness.
Every time the hallway fell dark—
I felt it.
That sensation.
The certainty that someone stood behind me.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not breathing.
Not moving.
Simply existing.
I quickened my pace.
The feeling followed.
I entered the restroom and locked the door behind me.
Silence.
Complete silence.
No dripping faucets.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Nothing.
The emptiness felt unnatural.
I walked toward the sink.
Turned on the water.
Splashed my face.
Cold.
Far colder than it should have been.
I gripped the edges of the sink and lowered my head.
"Get a grip..."
The words barely escaped my mouth.
My reflection stared back from the mirror.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Human.
At least—
For a moment.
Then everything changed.
I froze.
Something moved behind me.
No.
Not behind me.
Behind the reflection.
Two enormous black wings slowly unfolded from my back.
Not feathers.
Not flesh.
Darkness.
Liquid darkness.
Their shape shifted constantly.
Dripping shadows that vanished before touching the floor.
My breathing stopped.
The reflection continued changing.
Black tears flowed from its eyes.
Not tears.
Blood.
Rivers of blood.
Running endlessly down its face.
The reflection smiled.
I didn't.
My hands tightened around the sink.
Every instinct screamed at me to look away.
I couldn't.
The reflection leaned closer.
Its smile widened.
And then—
It spoke.
Without moving its mouth.
Without sound.
Yet I heard every word.
Perfectly.
"How much longer will you pretend to be human?"
Pain exploded inside my skull.
I collapsed immediately.
My knees struck the floor.
Both hands pressed against my head.
"Stop..."
The voice multiplied.
One became ten.
Ten became hundreds.
Hundreds became thousands.
Whispers.
Laughter.
Children singing.
People crying.
A chorus of impossible voices flooding my mind.
Fragments of sentences echoed around me.
"The mirror remembers."
"The crack is waking."
"The night has chosen."
"Dark..."
"Dark..."
"Dark..."
I forced myself back up.
Desperately.
Stumbling.
Reaching for the sink.
I splashed water across my face again.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally—
I looked up.
The mirror showed only me.
Nothing else.
No wings.
No blood.
No smile.
Just me.
Breathing heavily.
Trembling.
Broken.
A drop of red landed inside the sink.
I stared.
Blood.
My nose was bleeding.
The sight somehow frightened me more than the vision.
Because it proved something had happened.
Something real.
I quickly grabbed paper towels and wiped the blood away.
My hands refused to stop shaking.
The mirror remained silent.
Normal.
Harmless.
And yet—
I no longer trusted it.
Maybe I never would again.
After several minutes I finally left.
The corridor outside felt colder than before.
The festival music drifted through open windows.
Students laughed somewhere nearby.
Life continued.
But something inside me had shifted.
Something subtle.
Something terrifying.
As if a door had opened slightly.
Not enough to see what lay beyond.
Just enough to know something was there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Remembering.
I walked toward the nearest exit.
The evening air greeted me immediately.
Cool.
Humid.
Refreshing.
For the first time in nearly an hour, I could breathe.
Yet the feeling remained.
That presence.
That gaze.
As if whatever I had seen inside the mirror had not stayed behind.
As if it had followed me outside.
The academy lights glowed beneath the darkening sky.
Students moved between booths and decorations.
Everything looked normal.
Ordinary.
Safe.
And somehow—
That frightened me more.
Because if I was losing my mind...
Then the world should look different.
Shouldn't it?
Instead—
The world looked exactly the same.
Only I had changed.
And somewhere deep inside my thoughts—
A single sentence continued repeating itself.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The faceless king has already dreamed of you.
I didn't know why.
But those words terrified me more than anything else.
Because they did not feel like a warning.
They felt like a memory.
By the time I reached home—
I could barely keep my eyes open.
The city lights blurred together beyond the apartment window.
Cars moved below like distant rivers of light.
Everything felt unreal.
As if I were watching the world through glass.
I unlocked the door.
Stepped inside.
And immediately collapsed onto my bed.
I didn't bother changing clothes.
Didn't bother turning on the lights.
Didn't bother thinking.
My body felt impossibly heavy.
Like every step I had taken throughout the day had accumulated somewhere deep inside my bones.
I reached for a bottle of water sitting beside the bed.
Swallowed several painkillers.
Then closed my eyes.
"I just want to sleep..."
The darkness accepted me immediately.
And for the first time that day—
Everything disappeared.
I never noticed the rain beginning outside.
Never noticed the distant thunder.
Never noticed the city falling asleep.
Because I was already gone.
Drifting.
Falling.
Sinking into dreams.
Unaware that somewhere else in Alida—
Someone else's nightmare was beginning.
Won Ho's house was unusually quiet.
No television.
No music.
No conversations.
Only the rhythmic sound of a toothbrush scraping against teeth.
Won Ho stared into the bathroom mirror.
Exhausted.
Half asleep.
The festival had drained what little energy he possessed.
Which was impressive.
Considering he normally possessed enough energy for three people.
He rinsed his mouth.
Splashed water across his face.
And yawned.
"Finally."
He stretched.
"I can sleep in peace."
The universe immediately disagreed.
He turned off the bathroom light.
Walked upstairs.
Entered his room.
And collapsed onto his bed.
Within minutes—
He was asleep.
Then he opened his eyes.
And found himself somewhere else.
A black ocean.
Endless.
Silent.
Motionless.
There was no sky.
No stars.
No moon.
No horizon.
Only darkness.
Infinite darkness.
Won Ho immediately sat up.
His heart began racing.
"What the hell?"
His voice vanished into the void.
No echo returned.
No sound came back.
The ocean stretched endlessly in every direction.
The water beneath him was perfectly still.
Like glass.
Like obsidian.
Like an enormous mirror.
A cold wind moved through the darkness.
Then—
He heard footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Impossible.
Someone was walking across the water.
Won Ho froze.
The sound continued.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Each step caused ripples to spread through the black sea.
The darkness ahead of him began to move.
Something enormous was emerging.
At first he thought it was a mountain.
Then he realized mountains did not breathe.
The shape rose slowly from beneath the water.
Larger.
Higher.
Wider.
The ocean itself seemed too small for it.
More of its body emerged.
And Won Ho felt terror unlike anything he had ever experienced.
Too many arms.
Too many eyes.
Too many mouths.
Its shape shifted constantly.
As if reality could not decide what it was looking at.
Every second it appeared different.
Human.
Beast.
Corpse.
God.
Monster.
All at once.
And none of them.
The ocean trembled.
The darkness trembled.
Even the dream itself seemed afraid.
Won Ho tried to move.
His body refused.
He tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
The creature continued rising.
Its countless eyes opened one after another.
Thousands.
Millions.
Staring directly at him.
Not looking.
Recognizing.
The realization was worse.
Because the thing did not seem curious.
It seemed familiar.
As though it had always known he would arrive here.
As though it had been waiting.
A mouth opened somewhere upon its impossible body.
Then another.
And another.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
All speaking together.
One voice.
Made from countless voices.
Ancient.
Immense.
Unbearably heavy.
The words shook the ocean itself.
"I found you..."
The black sea rippled violently.
Won Ho's heartbeat thundered inside his chest.
The entity lowered its countless heads.
And for the first time—
It smiled.
The sight nearly shattered his sanity.
"Little dreamer."
The darkness around them twisted.
Reality bent.
Cracked.
Folded inward.
Something beyond the dream pressed against existence itself.
Trying to enter.
Trying to be seen.
Won Ho felt tears forming in his eyes.
Not from sadness.
From instinct.
From the ancient terror buried inside every living thing.
The terror of standing before something that should not exist.
Something older than meaning.
Older than memory.
Older than death.
The entity leaned closer.
Its countless eyes narrowing.
Studying him.
Measuring him.
Judging him.
And then—
It spoke a name.
A name that seemed older than language itself.
A name that made the ocean tremble.
A name that echoed through the darkness like a forgotten prayer.
"I am..."
The skyless void shook.
The black waters rose.
The dream fractured.
And the creature's voice became a cosmic roar.
"MATUSALEM."
The name exploded across the ocean.
Across the darkness.
Across reality.
And somewhere far away—
In another dream.
A boy named Dark suddenly opened his eyes.
For a brief moment—
He thought he heard a bell.
A distant bell.
Ringing three times.
GONG.
GONG.
GONG.
Then silence.
And sleep reclaimed him once more.
Unaware that something ancient had finally awakened.
And that somewhere beyond the stars—
Countless eyes had begun to open.