The blade was still quivering in the wall when Zane turned his head slowly. His blindfold tugged against his skin as his pulse raced.
There's no one here… so how the hell did a dagger fly like that?
He frowned, tilting his head toward the door. The wooden frame cast a deep shadow across the floor, stretching just enough for him to reach. Zane concentrated, heart hammering.
The darkness shifted. And suddenly, the world bent.
Through the shadow, like peering through fogged glass, he saw it—
a vague silhouette leaning against the hallway wall, just out of direct sight.
Zane's lips tugged upward despite himself. "Gotcha. Hah… so I can see through shadows now. Finally something useful."
But a nagging thought clawed at him. If the figure is standing right in front of me, why can't I see them normally?
Before he could chase that thought further—
> [System Notification]
Shadows Gaze: Comprehended
Congratulations, Host has achieved the ability to see through shadows.
Reward: ???? Rank Skill – Shadow Control
The ability to manipulate shadows to the user's will for a period of time.
Zane's grin widened. "About time."
The air around his feet rippled, and his shadow responded to his will like water taking form. The black mass slithered up his arms, sharpening into multiple long, slender daggers—sharp, hungry, trembling to be unleashed.
Zane's eyes narrowed beneath the blindfold. "Let's see how you like getting stabbed."
With a flick of his hand, the shadow daggers launched across the room. They whistled like arrows, sharp and deadly, slicing straight toward the vague figure hidden by the wall.
But—
The blades dissolved mid-flight, dripping back into the floor as nothing more than harmless streaks of darkness.
Zane staggered. His vision spun. Pain flared through his skull like a blade splitting his head in half.
"Argh—!" He clutched at his temple, stumbling backward until his knees hit the edge of the bed. The weight of the headache crushed down harder with every breath, and before he could even curse, he collapsed backward onto the sheets.
The last thing he heard before sleep dragged him under was the faint, mocking echo of footsteps fading into the hallway.