Since childhood, Peter had lived with visions that defied reality. At ten years old, he could see spirits — from his great-great-grandfather to strange figures he did not recognize, yet who seemed to carry ancient stories within them. Growing up in a conservative Christian family, he never dared tell his parents what he saw. He feared being judged, or worse, rejected.
As time passed, Peter grew older, and at fifteen he chose to follow his own path: he secretly began working for a spiritual investigation agency. Even without his parents' support or belief, he immersed himself in the invisible world that had always surrounded him.
Peter never truly felt that he belonged to his family. His father, a rigid and distant German man; his mother, an Irish woman who carried her faith like a shield, seemed to live in a world that could not understand him. With intense red hair and deep green eyes, Peter stood out not only physically — his essence was different as well.
There was something within him that even he did not fully understand: a rare ability for psychography. Words from other times and lost consciousnesses flowed through his hand when he was alone, hidden from his parents' watchful eyes. It was a gift, but also a burden — something that distanced him even further from a family that only believed in what could be seen.
In silence, Peter became someone who preferred to suppress his pain rather than face new judgments. Until one day, he met Akihiko.
Akihiko was not just different like him — he was someone who understood what existed beyond the veils of the world. Together, they began a dangerous investigation: uncovering the mysteries of a church corrupted by demonic forces.
For the first time, Peter felt that he was no longer alone.
The night was unnaturally silent. Peter and Bernard walked along a hidden trail, guided only by instinct and the suffocating presence lingering in the air. Near an abandoned house on the outskirts of the city, they found a strange church — dark, distorted, and covered with ancient, profane symbols carved into its stone walls.
"Do you feel that?" Bernard murmured.
"As if something is watching us from within the shadows," Peter replied, his eyes fixed on the entrance.
Without hesitation, Peter pushed the doors open and stepped inside. The smell of burned incense mixed with a macabre silence. A few men were gathered, whispering among themselves. One of them appeared to be the leader. Peter wasted no time. He approached firmly, grabbed the leader by the arms, and stared at him with eyes filled with restrained rage.
"Who is the person forcing you to work in this place?" he demanded.
The man hesitated, then answered, trembling:
"T-the Masked One. He's from the United States. I don't know his real name or which state he's from… but he commands us."
Peter released him. Bernard's eyes were wide. The silence inside the temple grew even heavier.
As they left the place together, Peter could not contain his indignation.
"How is it possible that the rich, who already have everything, still ask for more wealth… and not from God, but from demons?" he said, staring at the dark sky.
Bernard, speechless, simply nodded. Soon after, they returned to the bus stop. Peter took the bus home; Bernard went back to the agency.
But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.
When Peter entered his house, he immediately sensed that something was wrong. The lights were off. The silence felt unnatural. He walked slowly into the living room… and then he saw it.
His parents were dead.
His heart froze. The world stopped for an instant. In the middle of the room, a masked figure watched him in silence. Before Peter could react, the figure ran toward the back door. Consumed by fury and despair, Peter chased him through the house.
He caught up with him in the backyard. They fought. In the struggle, Peter managed to break the man's mask. For a brief second, he saw the face beneath it. But at that very moment, everything went dark. His body collapsed to the ground. He had lost consciousness.
Days later, he woke up in a hospital, with no clear memory of the murderer's face.
Only the pain remained.The pain of seeing his parents die.The pain of not being able to stop it.