"Does it hurt?"
"A little… thanks, brother."
In the depths of a forest drowned in shadows, rays of sunlight slip through the thick branches — faint threads of hope piercing the gloom.
A boy holds his younger brother's hand as they tread carefully over the damp grass.
"Let's go back. Mom and Dad will be angry."
"Can we play again tomorrow?"
"Of course."
The light grows brighter — the forest thins, revealing a small hill crowned with an old wooden house.
"Look! It's Mom and Dad!"
"Let's wave to them!"
They run, waving with innocent smiles.
Their parents stand at the doorway, smiling back…
Then suddenly —
Their heads fall off in a single, silent instant.
"Dad? … Mom?!"
The house erupts into flames, fire devouring the windows.
From within, burning corpses stagger out, their bodies cracking and swaying as they advance.
The older brother screams, grabs the younger one, and runs through the forest now consumed by fire.
Smoke chokes their breath; the crackle of burning wood drowns their cries.
At the hollow of a great tree, the elder sets his brother inside.
"Stay here… don't move… no matter what! Do you hear me?!"
The younger nods, trembling and crying.
The older boy runs back toward the inferno — and vanishes into the smoke.
Silence.
Then, from the darkness inside the hollow, charred hands crawl toward the small boy, trying to pull him in.
"Nooo!!"
Suddenly, another hand seizes his — warm, human.
A voice, distant yet familiar, calls from beyond the light.
"You have to hurry… Theodore."
"Aaaah—hah… ha—Hff!!?"
Theodore jolted awake, ripped out of a nightmare that refused to end. The air in the room felt thick—heavy, as if it didn't want to be breathed. Sweat dripped down his temples as his eyes adjusted to the dim gray light filtering through the cracked window.
The walls were fractured, veins of decay crawling across them. Dark stains marked the surface—some dried to a rusted brown, others still glistening, wet and red.
The room itself was bare. A mattress on the floor. A half-broken wooden wardrobe. Silence pressing in from every corner.
He looked down at his bandaged arms—the gauze tinted faintly pink.
"That fox… she came again."
He pushed himself up, every movement stiff, deliberate. The wooden floor creaked under his weight as he stepped into the kitchen. A faint aroma met him—food, still warm.
On the table lay a note written in delicate, looping handwriting:
I'll come back later to check on you.
He stared at it for a moment before exhaling with a bitter smirk.
"Always so persistent, aren't you, Clinn? Would've been better if you just let me die."
Sitting on the floor, he began to eat in silence. The spoon trembled faintly in his hand.
When he was done, he stood, grabbed another plate of food, and walked toward a door covered in locks and chains.
The sound of metal turning echoed through the narrow corridor—one lock after another, like the rhythm of some forbidden ritual.
He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and let the darkness swallow him whole.
Elsewhere in the city—
Fiora walked down a quiet street, arms full of grocery bags, her breath fogging the cold morning air. When she reached her home, she froze.
Someone was sneaking out through the back window.
"You! Didn't I tell you to stay in bed, you idiot?!"
Alex froze mid-step.
"Ahaha… you caught me."
From inside, Shio's laughter rang out.
"Ha! Worst escape attempt ever."
Fiora dragged Alex back inside, forcing him into bed beside Shio. She placed an ice pack on his injured arm.
"When that man brought you two here, you were half-dead. Honestly, I thought you wouldn't make it."
Alex forced a tired grin.
"We're fine now… really."
She smacked his hand lightly.
"Yeah, sure. That scream earlier really convinced me."
As she unpacked the groceries, Shio spoke up, glancing around the cozy room.
"You have a nice house… the traditional look gives it a strange charm. But… isn't it too big for a girl living alone?"
Fiora's hands stopped mid-motion.
"My family died in a car accident. I lived here with my grandfather afterward. He passed away last year… now the house is mine."
Her tone was flat. Measured.
"Does that answer your question?"
Shio lowered his gaze, hesitant.
"One more thing… do you know anything about the Ezra?"
Alex's head shot up immediately.
"Damn it, I told you not to ask that!"
Fiora's glare silenced them both.
"What you're talking about isn't the Ezra. It's a power my grandfather taught me—something unique to my family."
Shio sighed, disappointment flickering across his face.
"I see… I've suspected as much these past few days."
Fiora smiled faintly.
"No worries. I guess Alex was thinking the same thing too… so it's only fair you both know."
The lights flickered once… then went out completely.
Silence fell.
Fiora lifted her head toward the ceiling.
For a heartbeat, her eyes glowed with a pale, ashen light.
Suddenly, Shio felt it —
a strange pulse, faint yet violent, crawling up his spine.
He shot up instantly, eyes locked on the hallway door.
Tac... tac... tac...
Footsteps. Slow. Rhythmic.
From behind him, a shadow loomed —
the Old Man.
He was tapping the wall lazily with his knuckles, as if announcing his presence on purpose.
Shio turned around, sweat trickling down his temple.
The Old Man's gaze met his — cold, sharp, unreadable.
"Good instinct, boy."
A firm hand landed on Shio's shoulder.
"But your sensing still needs work."
He brushed past him, heading straight toward Alex.
"You alive, kid?"
"I'm fine, Okawa-san."
Fiora stepped between them, eyes blazing.
"Fine? He was shot multiple times! And those cuts—do you think a week's enough to heal all that?!"
Okawa ignored her, grabbed Alex by the shoulder, and pulled his shirt off.
"H-hey! What the hell are you doing—?!"
The room froze.
Most of Alex's wounds had already sealed.
Okawa exhaled through his nose — almost a chuckle.
"So… it's begun. You're past the limits of normal medicine now… little doctor."
Everyone stared — stunned.
"He's awakened his cells. You should know that better than anyone…
since you're the one who transferred them to him — using his friend as the price."
Fiora bit her lip hard, unable to respond.
Her hands trembled around her sleeves.
Shio stepped forward, voice calm but heavy.
"So that thing you transferred… that's the Ezra, right?"
Alex took a slow breath, eyes down.
"Ezra... it's this strange energy that stirs inside you once it wakes up.
I've seen others use it — people with terrifying powers.
I can't keep up with them like this."
"Okawa-san... please. Teach me how to use it."
The Old Man grabbed Alex's left arm, twisting it slightly.
A sharp jolt of pain shot through him.
"So you want to control the Ezra? Fine."
"But under one condition — you complete the second mission."
Fiora's anger exploded.
"Are you blind, old man?! You can see his arm's still in a cast — he can't even move it!
How the hell do you expect him to work alone?!"
Okawa smirked, glancing at Shio.
"Who said he'd be alone?"
Hours later
Inside the restaurant ,
"Come on, come on! Another bottle, heeey!!"
Three drunk men shouted, their bodies swaying as their glasses clashed together.
Across the room, Shio quietly lifted his glass of iced juice, watching them with half-closed eyes.
"So, what will you do after this?" asked Alex.
Shio replied indifferently,
"I don't know… I'll stick around you for a while."
The drunks burst into laughter again.
Shio exhaled deeply, then suddenly roared:
"Shut the hell up!!!"
Silence fell for a moment before he sat back down as if nothing had happened.
"You seem angry," Alex smirked.
"I hate drunks," Shio muttered, sipping his drink again.
At the tavern's entrance,
a man in a dark coat stood and gently grabbed the waitress's wrist.
"Let's go, darling."
They walked out together, swallowed by the cool night air.
Alex wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up slowly.
"Let's start the mission."
Shio followed without a word.
On the street, the man walked beside the waitress, his tone oily and flirtatious.
"How about another dinner?"
She smiled nervously.
"Stop it, we're in public."
His eyes wandered until he spotted a dimly lit hotel sign.
"What about that hotel?"
She hesitated, then whispered,
"Fine… My mother's watching the kids tonight."
They headed toward the hotel, with Alex and Shio trailing silently behind.
"A hotel?" Alex muttered.
Shio replied in a low voice,
"It's going to be a long night."
Inside the hotel.
The couple disappeared down the hallway.
Alex scanned the area nervously until he spotted something — a flicker near the stairs of the third floor.
"That—?! Wait, hold on!"
He ran after it.
"Oi, Alex! Where the— damn it!"
Shio turned toward the front desk.
"Welcome to the—"
"Skip the greetings," Shio interrupted coldly.
"Which room did the couple check into just now?"
The clerk hesitated.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't disclose—"
Shio sighed, fixing him with a cold, piercing stare.
A second later, the clerk collapsed unconscious.
"Ugh… they always pass out."
He flipped open the registry, found the room number, and dashed off.
On the third floor.
Alex stopped, looking around.
"Where did she go…?"
He found himself in an indoor garden overflowing with plants.
"What the— a garden? On this floor?"
A voice came from behind him.
"Lost, young man?"
Alex turned to see an old man holding a deep-violet flower.
"This garden's on the third floor… beautiful, isn't it?"
Alex glanced at the strange flowers — their petals looked too fresh, as if planted just moments ago.
"These flowers…"
"They're rare… with quite the story behind them," the old man smiled faintly.
Alex's mind raced, connecting what he saw earlier with the flowers.
"Could it be…?"
But before he could finish— something sliced through the air like an arrow,
brushing past Alex's eyes and piercing the old man's throat.
DOOF!!
The man's neck exploded, blood splattering across Alex's face.
He froze — his brain struggling to catch up with reality.
Before he could move, a hand clamped onto his shoulder from behind.
A woman's voice whispered near his ear, calm yet chilling:
"How bold of you… to keep a lady waiting this long."
Alex didn't even try to resist. His body knew — this was a losing fight.
Her breath brushed his ear as she whispered one last line:
"Such a bad boy."
Elsewhere in the hotel —
Shio moved quietly through the dim hallways of the seventh floor, eyes scanning for Room 82.
A chill brushed the back of his neck — sharp, unnatural.
His fingers went numb, and the key to Room 82 slipped from his hand, clinking against the floor.
"Damn it… what's this feeling…?"
He crouched to pick it up — then noticed someone approaching.
"Hey, man, do you know where—"
He lifted his gaze.
"Room eighty-tw—"
His voice froze.
Standing before him was the worst person he could possibly meet right now.
Jashin.
In a split second, Shio bolted the opposite way.
But before he could take a second step—
CLANG!
Jashin's iron rod slammed against his chest, pinning him to the wall.
"Why run?" Jashin's voice was calm, too calm.
Cold sweat trickled down Shio's neck.
(Shit—shit—he's here… this is the worst possible situation.)
Jashin's hand tightened on his shoulder.
"Why did you run from me, boy?"
His eyes — empty, black, bottomless — locked onto Shio's trembling ones.
"I… I just—"
"Just what?" Jashin interrupted, voice rising with amusement.
"Heh… looks like after our little fight, you learned something about me…"
He leaned closer.
"And that something is dangerous, isn't it?"
Shio swallowed hard. His throat felt dry as ash.
Jashin's gaze drifted lazily around the corridor.
"You're alone… Where's your little entourage?"
"I—I'm here for personal matters…"
"Oh?" Jashin smirked. "But your friend is here too, isn't he?"
Shio froze. His stomach dropped.
(Damn… he found out about Alex.)
(Alright… one strike. I'll bet everything on that hit and jump through the window…)
He focused all his energy into his right arm—
But before he could move, a girl suddenly walked between them.
"Excuse me… where's Room 82?"
Jashin's expression shifted instantly.
"At the end of the hall," he said.
Shio blinked, confused. (Wait… that's the waitress— but I don't have time for this mission right now—)
Knock knock.
A muffled voice from behind the door:
"Yes? Just a second—"
The iron rod in Jashin's hand began to pulse,
a rhythmic metallic heartbeat echoing through the corridor.
Then—
he released Shio.
"Wait—Room 82—hey! You—!!"
A woman opened the door slightly.
"Yes? How can I help—"
Jashin lunged forward, eyes burning.
"Rita!!"
The waitress began to cry.
"I… I'm sorry…"
BOOOOM!!!
The explosion devoured the hallway — fire, smoke, and silence.
To be continued.