Mythical Challenge: Complete.
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Mythical Challenge: Get inside The Lord Crow without being crushed.
(Condition: Swallowed)
Given Power: Death.
Your Abilities:
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Kanasei's eyes snapped open.
He jolted upright with a violent gasp, lungs screaming as he sucked in air like he'd been drowning. His chest heaved. His hands flew to his throat on instinct, fingers digging into skin as if expecting chains, feathers, something to still be there.
But there was nothing.
He froze.
Panting, Kanasei looked around.
Trees.
Tall, familiar silhouettes stretching upward, their leaves whispering softly in the night breeze. Moonlight filtered through the branches, pale and unmoving. The forest.
"…What?"
Cold soaked through his clothes. His shirt clung to his skin, heavy and uncomfortable. Water dripped from his sleeves as he shifted, and only then did he realize, he was completely drenched from the river.
Kanasei rubbed his eyes hard, then again, as if the world might smear or tear away if he wasn't careful.
Did I…fall asleep…?
He slowly tilted his head upward and stared at the moon.
It sat exactly where it had been before.
It was unchanged.
His stomach twisted.
Kanasei turned in a slow circle. The trees, the rocks, the uneven dirt beneath his palms. Everything looked the same. Like the world had been paused and resumed without him.
His breath came shallow.
"What…the fuck…" he whispered.
The words barely left his mouth.
Was it all a dream?
The gates. The demons. The Lord Crow.
That thing.
Kanasei swallowed and pushed himself to his feet, legs shaky. He wiped water from his face with the back of his hand, smearing mud across his cheek without noticing.
"I should head home."
His voice sounded thin and unsure, like he didn't believe himself.
He turned and started walking back the way he'd come.
As the iron gates came into view, his steps slowed.
Two guards stood nearby. They weren't watching.
They were talking, laughing quietly, one leaning against the fences as the other gestured animatedly. The gates behind them were wide open.
Kanasei's heart skipped.
It was a chance.
He lowered his body instinctively, every muscle tightening as he moved. Each step was careful, measured. He winced at every soft crunch of dirt beneath his shoes, waiting for a shout that didn't come.
Closer.
Closer.
The gates loomed above him, dark and silent.
Kanasei slipped through.
He tiptoed past the guards, holding his breath so hard his chest burned. One wrong sound, one glance—
He was already past them.
He escaped.
"HEY! STOP RIGHT THERE!!"
The shout detonated behind him.
Kanasei's eyes went wide as he spun around. One of the guards was already charging toward him, armor clanking, the other close behind.
Kanasei ran.
His feet slammed against the stone as he sprinted, his lungs pumping, and his blood roaring in his ears. An alleyway flashed into view ahead.
He veered sharply and bolted into it.
Kanasei was fast, always had been. Long legs, lean frame, built for movement. The guards' shouts faded quickly, their footsteps growing distant, swallowed by the city's noise.
He didn't stop running until his chest ached.
"Phew…"
Kanasei emerged from the alleyway and slowed to a walk.
The exit was near his apartment.
Relief washed over him so suddenly his knees nearly gave out.
He walked the rest of the way, keys shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. Inside, he closed it behind him and leaned back against it, staring at nothing.
-----
Kanasei stepped out of the bathroom with a towel draped over his head, rubbing his hair dry as steam slowly faded from the room behind him. The shower had washed the forest off his skin, the dirt, the river water, but it hadn't washed away the feeling clinging to his chest.
He was already dressed. Only his hair remained damp.
He sat down on the edge of his bed and reached for his phone on the bedside table. The towel slid down to his shoulders as he unlocked the screen and opened his messages, absently drying the last moisture from his hair.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message, From Mikkelsen Mikkel.
Kanasei's hand froze.
He lowered the towel as he read.
`Yo, Kanasei… I wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. You were such a great friend. I couldn't have asked for more.`
The world went silent.
Kanasei's eyes widened, breath catching sharply in his throat.
He knew what this meant.
His phone slipped from his hand as he suddenly threw it aside. The corner of the phone hit the floor with a sharp crack, the screen shattering behind him, but Kanasei was already moving.
He sprinted for his bedroom door. The hallway blurred as he tore through it, nearly slipping as he yanked the front door open and bolted outside into the night air.
The bridge...
His heart hammered violently against his ribs.
That's where he'd do it!
Kanasei veered into an alleyway, taking a shortcut without slowing.
Will I get there in time…?
His legs burned as the alley stretched ahead of him. The exit came into view, along with a stone barrier blocking the way. It was wide and tall, reaching up to just under his chest.
Stopping would cost him everything.
I don't have time for this!
Kanasei vaulted.
His hands slapped against the stone, his body lifting and clearing the barrier in one fluid motion. He landed hard but didn't break stride, feet pounding against the ground as he pushed himself even faster.
"Shit, shit, shit!" he gasped. "Don't die on me. Please!"
He made a sharp right turn—
And the bridge rose before him.
Kanasei looked up.
Mikkelsen stood at the edge.
Time fractured.
"MIIIIKE!!"
Kanasei screamed his name at the top of his lungs, arm shooting forward, fingers stretching desperately through empty air, as if distance itself might bend for him.
Mikkelsen turned.
His eyes widened in surprise.
Then, slowly, a small, fragile smile formed on his face. Tears welled up, clinging to his lashes.
"Bye, bro…" he said softly.
Almost a whisper.
And then he leaned back.
Mikkelsen fell.
Kanasei reached the edge just as the space emptied. He slid to a stop in the same reaching pose, hands still extended, eyes locked on nothing. Frozen, like his body hadn't caught up to reality yet.
Then he snapped back.
He scrambled forward and looked over the edge.
Mikkelsen hit the water below with a distant splash.
The drop was high—but not impossible.
Hope flared violently in Kanasei's chest.
He ripped his jacket off and threw it to the ground, already swinging one leg over the railing, preparing to jump—
A boat drifted beneath the bridge.
Slow and unaware.
Kanasei's breath caught.
The propeller struck and the water erupted.
Red spread instantly, blooming across the surface as the boat jolted to a stop. Shouts broke out as the two people aboard rushed toward the back, horror dawning as they saw what floated beneath them.
Kanasei couldn't move.
His leg slowly withdrew from the railing. He stepped back once. Then his knees gave out.
Kanasei collapsed onto the ground, sitting hard as he drew his knees to his chest. His hands went to his head, fingers digging into his hair as he rubbed slowly, over and over, like he could scrub the moment away.
-----
Nobu Yasu was doing absolutely nothing special.
He stood in front of his open fridge, grabbed a can of soda, and closed the door with his foot. The apartment was quiet and comfortable. He walked back to the living room, dropped onto the couch, and reached for the controller resting beside him.
The TV flickered on.
Behind him, beyond the glass doors leading to the balcony, a figure approached.
No footsteps.
No sound.
The figure wore a brown, assassin-like robe that swallowed their body whole. The hood was pulled low, hiding their head. A white mask covered their face, smooth and empty, except for a single marking: a black heart where the left eye would be.
Nobu didn't notice.
His phone rang. He frowned slightly and picked it up.
A message.
From Mikkelsen Mikkel.
Nobu read it once.
Then again.
`Yo, Nobu… I wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. You were such a great friend. I couldn't have asked for more.`
His eyes widened.
He set the soda down slowly, hands trembling as he leaned forward. His phone slipped from his fingers and landed face-up on the table in front of him.
He tried to stand.
Ba-dum.
Pain exploded in his chest.
Nobu gasped and clutched at his heart, staggering backward before collapsing onto the couch again. The pain wasn't sharp, it was wrong. Heavy and rotting. Like something was spreading through his veins.
Then—
An arm wrapped around his head from behind the couch.
Nobu didn't even have time to scream before he was yanked backward and slammed onto the floor. A hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him completely.
The figure loomed over him.
With their free hand, they drew a black knife.
Pinned to the ground, his body unresponsive, heart screaming inside his chest, Nobu watched helplessly as the blade descended.
The knife plunged into his left eye.
Then the right.
His scream never escaped his throat.
Blood poured instantly, warm and thick, soaking the figure's glove as Nobu's body convulsed uselessly beneath them. His vision collapsed into darkness, but the pain didn't stop.
It only deepened. His heart felt like it was decaying. Blackening. Falling apart from the inside.
The knife rose once more.
Then drove straight into his forehead.
The figure twisted it slowly.
They moved the blade inside his skull, ensuring nothing remained. When Nobu's body finally went slack, when his chest stopped rising, the figure pulled the knife free.
The wound was massive.
So deep that the inside of his head was visible.
Blood spread across the floor, creeping outward in a dark, glossy pool.
The figure stood over the body in silence.
They looked down at the corpse for a brief moment.
"May your heart rest."
—The Black Heart of Hell