So, here's the deal. On a continent nobody remembers, in a city that's basically a ghost town, Henry was born from a cosmic screw-up. His parents were from two different clans—the Solari and the Lunari. Think fire and ice, day and night, mortal enemies. And they decided to have a kid.
Big mistake.
The gods weren't happy. The Moon goddess, in a fit of rage, cursed Henry: one person by day,a whole other monster by night. Then the Sun goddess, probably trying to be helpful, made him immortal. So now he's stuck on this mortal coil, forever.
This whole mess kicked off a war. The two clans actually teamed up against their psycho gods. After a year of bloodshed, everyone was wiped out. The exhausted goddesses just poofed, sealing themselves away somewhere.
The only survivors? Henry, a crying baby in a field of bodies, and Joseph, the old warrior who found him and was crazy enough to adopt him.
Fast forward fourteen years. Henry isn't just a kid anymore; he's a weapon. Joseph trained him, pushed him, and Henry shattered every expectation. Henry has a white hair and blue eyes, his clothes are so white that can blind if you look too much at then, Now, Joseph figured it was time for the next step: school. A real one, with other people. A shot at being normal.
But normal was never on the table.
See, Joseph has this insane tattoo on his left hand—a gate with seven locks. It's what keeps Henry's night-side on a leash. With a single touch, the tattoo jumped from Joseph's skin to Henry's arm, burning like hell. In that same instant, Joseph's spirit became the warden of that inner prison, a constant guard inside Henry's head to keep the darkness from taking over completely.
"Go" Joseph's voice echoed in his mind. So he did.
The trip to the human city of Kha'thox was an eight-day trek. At night Henry transforms to his darker form, black hair, red eyes, black clothes and a immense smile that makes people fear him, First stop: a low-tech dump run by some commander who actually called himself a god. And, of course, trouble found him on the very first night.
Shadows detached themselves from the darkness of the road. Bandits.
"Wallet or your life, kid," one of them growled, flashing two grimy daggers.
Henry didn't even flinch. "Bad idea," he said, his voice flat and cold. "Walk away. Forget you saw me."
That got a laugh. They closed in, a hungry pack circling him. A thin, dangerous smirk touched Henry's lips. And then he was just... gone. Vanished into the shadows at his feet.
The bandits froze. "The hell? Where'd he go?"
"I warned you," a voice hissed from everywhere at once.
Panic set in. Then came the slaughter. A blade forged from pure darkness sliced through the air. A zip here, a slash there. Men screamed, trying to run, but the shadows were faster, pulling them down as the sword did its work.
The last one was on his knees, trembling, as Henry's form solidified in front of him. "P-Please... we screwed up! Just let me go!"
Henry tilted his head, that chilling smile still in place. "The warning was clear."
In a final, desperate move, the man lunged. Henry dematerialized, the knife stabbing empty air.
"Oops," Henry's laugh was warped, monstrous. "You missed."
The sound of blade meeting flesh was the last thing the bandit ever heard.
"You didn't have to kill them all, Henry. You could have just scared them," Joseph's voice nagged in his head.
"And what's the fun in that?" Henry shot back, his tone full of a snark that wasn't his own. A sigh of static was Joseph's only reply. "Just... get to Kha'thox."
By dawn, he reached the city gates. They found a cheap room, and for the first time, Joseph let his spirit rest, leaving Henry's mind. Henry crashed on the bed and slept.
He woke up to an empty room, having some of the thoughts from the night before, he can't remember what his appearance was. Joseph was gone. On the other bed, a single note. The message was blunt: This is your journey now. Do it alone. A pang of loneliness hit him, sharp and sudden. He crushed it, forced a smile, and got up. Time to go.
He was just about to leave when a woman's scream cut through the street noise. He didn't think, he just ran. He found her being tied up by three robed figures, who were shoving her onto a cart.
"W-what do you think you're doing?" Henry's voice was quiet.
One of the guys turned, sizing him up. "None of your business, kid. She owes us. And since she can't pay with cash, she'll pay another way."
"What other way?" Henry asked, a sick feeling in his gut.
The man chuckled. "We'll sell her to some rich guy. After we... have a little chat with her first." He looked back at Henry. "You still here? You looking for trouble?"
Henry swallowed hard. "M-Maybe I am. Let her go. Now."
The guy laughed out loud. He opened a worn-out book, and balls of fire crackled to life around him. He flicked his wrist, and they shot toward Henry. But before they could hit, Henry moved. In a blur, he was behind the mage, and a single punch sent the man flying ten meters into a wall.
"Who is this kid?" one of the others yelled as they charged. They didn't even get close. A flurry of kicks and punches sent them sprawling. But as one of them scrambled away, he conjured one last fireball. He wasn't aiming for Henry.
It hit the cart that was close to the woman. The explosion was deafening, turning wood and flesh into a funeral pyre.
The fleeing mage glanced back with a twisted grin. "Welcome to Kha'thox, kid! Around here, you either pay up or you get erased!"
Henry fell to his knees in front of the smoking wreckage. Ashes. That's all that was left. Tears of pure rage and helplessness streamed down his face. If I was stronger... If I hadn't hesitated...
"You're weak," a voice snarled in his head. It wasn't Joseph. It was cold, arrogant, and disturbingly familiar. "You're nothing like me."
"Who are you?" Henry whispered.
The world dissolved. He was standing in a black, empty mindscape. In front of him was his reflection, except... not. This version had black hair, crimson eyes, and a smile that promised a world of pain.
"W-who are you?" Henry asked again, his voice shaking.
"I'm you," the other said, circling him. "The difference? I wouldn't have failed. I would have ended those lowlifes before they could even blink."
"You can't be me!"
"Oh, but I am. Or did you think you were the one in control at night? The one watching the world through your eyes while you just ride along? Next time there's trouble, just run and hide, crybaby. It'd be a shame to have to share this body."
"You talk like I'm your plaything!" Henry yelled.
His other self just smiled, fading into the mental shadows. "There's a sealed cave in this city. Find the sword inside."
"Why should I listen to you?"
But he was already gone.
Back in reality, smelling the smoke and death, Henry made his choice. He found the cave on the edge of town, blocked by a massive boulder and a few bored guards.
"Halt! Restricted area," one of them barked.
A woman in ornate armor, obviously the boss, called him over. "Hold on. You." Her eyes scanned him. "You look... different. What do you want?"
"I want to go in the cave," Henry said.
She laughed. A short, cynical sound. "Right. Look, kid, if you can move that rock, be my guest. You can even keep whatever's inside. But our best battle mages couldn't even scratch it."
Henry ignored the guards' smirks and walked up to the boulder. He closed his eyes, focused, and punched. There wasn't a boom. Just a loud CRACK that spiderwebbed across the stone. And the unmovable boulder just... crumbled into dust.
Dead silence. Then, shouts of disbelief. The commander approached, her jaw on the floor. "How...? I knew you were special. Since you broke it, you get first dibs."
Henry walked into the darkness. Deep inside, he found a pedestal. On it sat a strange stone etched with the symbol of the moon. He touched it.
The world vanished again. He was in a realm of moonlight and shadows. A breathtakingly beautiful woman appeared before him.
"Who dares enter my domain?" her voice was a dangerous melody. Then she saw him. "Oh. You. The kid who started all this. What are you doing here, you filthy thing?"
Rage flared in Henry. He lunged, but she dissolved into shadows and reappeared behind him, wrapping him in a cold hug.
"Don't be so angry," she whispered, her cool breath on his neck. "I was waiting for you. Wanted to see how my little curse was doing." She laughed, a sound both beautiful and insane.
"It was you?" Henry choked out. "You put... him... inside me?"
She squeezed him tighter, her chest pressing against his back. "That, my dear, is you. My little experiment to see how you'd handle being... unique." she starts headpatting his head
Henry's face flushed. This was his first real contact with a woman, and she was a goddess practically grinding on him. "I don't need—"
She put a finger to his lips. "Shhh. I'm coming with you, like it or not. My name is Tsukuyomi." Before he could argue, she hugged him tight.
Henry woke up in the cave, gasping. A katana now rested in his hand, its black sheath bearing the silver crest of the Lunari clan. A shadow peeled away from the blade, taking Tsukuyomi's alluring form beside him.
"Take good care of me," she winked. "Or I might just split you in two again."
On pure impulse, Henry reached out and grabbed her chest.
Tsukuyomi raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Whoa there. Thought you were the shy type."
"I... I thought you weren't real," he stammered, snatching his hand back.
She laughed, a bright, clear sound, and pulled him close. "We can keep going, but the people outside might think you're being a little forward on our first date."
Embarrassed, Henry pulled away. "That's... not the point. We're leaving."
They walked out of the cave, Tsukuyomi floating beside him, making jokes. The commander met them at the entrance.
"You found a woman in there?" she asked, impressed. "And a gorgeous one at that."
"More like the other way around," Tsukuyomi chirped. "I found him."
As the commander started praising Henry's strength, Tsukuyomi's eyes flashed with something like jealousy. Sensing the weird vibe, Henry announced they had to go.
By the time they left the town behind, night had fallen. On the dark road, Henry felt it. Something wrong. An itch under his skin. A cold that had nothing to do with the air.
Tsukuyomi reappeared, her smile knowing. "So. Is the real you ready to come out and play?"
"Not the time for jokes, Tsukuyomi. I feel... weird," Henry said, his voice strained.
The shadows on the road writhed. They climbed up his legs, clinging to him. His body began to change. His white hair bleached to dark. His eyes... they ignited, glowing a demonic red. A slow, predatory smile spread across his new face.
The voice that spoke was not his. It was the voice of the night itself.
"Finally."
The word tasted like power. For the first time, the world wasn't a muffled movie seen through someone else's eyes. It was sharp. Vivid. Every scent on the night air—the damp earth, the distant rot of a dead animal, the cloying sweetness of the goddess beside him—was an explosion of information. This body, this vessel, finally felt like it fit. He stretched his fingers, watching shadows curl around them like obedient pets.
"What... what is this? Give me back control!" a small, pathetic voice whimpered from the back of his mind.
He chuckled, a low, grating sound. Oh, he's still in here. How cute. "Quiet, you," he muttered out loud. "The adults are talking now."
Tsukuyomi floated closer, her eyes gleaming with an unholy mix of curiosity and pride. She circled him, not as a predator, but as an artist admiring her masterpiece.
"Well now," she purred. "Look at you. All sharp edges and beautiful rage. So much better than the crying child."
He shot her a sideways glance, his red eyes narrowing. "Don't act like you're in charge here, goddess. You're just a voice. I'm the one holding the leash now."
"That's my sword you're holding!" the voice—Henry—protested.
"It's my hand," he snarled back, flexing his grip on the katana's hilt. The sword felt good. An extension of the cold, clean purpose that now filled him.
"Oh, I love this," Tsukuyomi giggled, clapping her hands together. "So much drama! What shall I call you? The other one is Henry. You need a name."
"I am Henry," he stated flatly. "The real one."
Before she could argue, a sound cut through the night. A low, guttural growl that seemed to scrape the inside of his skull. From the woods on either side of the road, more shapes emerged. They weren't human. They were canine, but twisted. Too many joints in their legs, skin stretched tight over bone, and their eyes glowed with the same hungry, red light as his own.
"Grave-hounds," Tsukuyomi said, her tone shifting from playful to interested. "They're drawn to strong sources of dark energy. And darling, you're practically a lighthouse."
Three of them. Then five. They stalked forward, saliva dripping from their jaws, their growls harmonizing into a deathly hum.
"We should run! Henry, make him run!" the voice pleaded.
He ignored it. A wide, terrifying grin split his face. "Good," he whispered. "I'm hungry."
He didn't wait for them to pounce. He moved. The world became a blur of motion and violence. He didn't just use the katana. He let the darkness bleed out, forming jagged spikes from the ground that impaled the first hound. He ducked under the lunge of a second, the katana singing as it sliced clean through its midsection.
"Stop! You're being reckless! You'll get us killed!" Henry screamed in his head.
This is what it feels like to be alive, he thought back, a wave of pure, savage joy washing over him as he spun, driving his elbow into the snout of a third beast with a sickening crunch.
He was faster, stronger, and infinitely more brutal. He wasn't just fighting to survive; he was creating a symphony of snapping bones and torn flesh. He let one of the hounds latch onto his arm, its teeth scraping against bone, just to feel the rush. The pain was exquisite. He laughed, and with his free hand, grabbed the creature's head and simply tore it from its spine.
The last two hounds, seeing the carnage, hesitated. It was all the opening he needed. He pointed the katana at them, and two tendrils of pure shadow shot from the blade, wrapping around their necks and choking the life from them in seconds.
Silence returned. He stood in the middle of the road, splattered in black blood, chest heaving not from exhaustion, but exhilaration. He felt incredible.
"Bravo!" Tsukuyomi applauded. "A true artist at work. You see? You don't need to hide. This power is a gift."
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's a tool. And I plan to use it."
"You're a monster," Henry whimpered internally.
"He says I'm a monster," he said to Tsukuyomi, a mocking pout on his lips. "What do you think?"
"I think you're perfect," she replied without hesitation. "But what now, my perfect monster? Are you really going to follow that pathetic plan to go to... school?" She said the word like it was a disease.
He laughed. "School? No. The other one can have his boring little dreams. I want more of this." He gestured to the dead hounds. "I want a real challenge."
Tsukuyomi's smile widened. "I thought you'd say that. That sword I became... it holds more than just my essence. It holds memories. Maps. There is a place, far to the south. A crater from an ancient war, now known as the Obsidian Heart. It's a nexus of dark energy. A place where things like you go to feast, to fight, and to grow stronger."
His red eyes lit up with interest. "The Obsidian Heart. I like the sound of that."
"No! We have to go to the school! Joseph said—"
"Joseph is a weak old man who locked me in a cage," he snapped. "His plans are dead. We're going south."
He turned to Tsukuyomi. "Lead the way, goddess."
"With pleasure," she beamed.
He took a step, but then stumbled. A wave of dizziness hit him. The sharp, vivid colors of the night began to fade, a pale light creeping over the horizon. The sun.
The exhilarating power began to drain away, replaced by a deep, aching exhaustion. The cuts and bruises from the fight, which he'd barely felt before, now throbbed with agony. His hair began to flicker, streaks of black returning.
"It's my turn now," Henry's voice said, a little stronger this time.
The monster—the real Henry—gritted his teeth. "This isn't over," he growled, his voice already starting to sound more like the boy he despised. "The night will be back."
He collapsed to his knees as the first rays of sunlight hit the road, the world spinning. The last thing he saw before blacking out was Tsukuyomi's amused face looking down at him.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "Tomorrow night will be even more fun."