Cain woke with a tightness in his chest.
The room felt wrong—too closed, too heavy, as though the walls themselves were pressing inward. He lay still for several seconds, breathing slowly, waiting for the sensation to pass.
It didn't.
The pressure wasn't pain. It wasn't fear. It was something deeper, more structural, like a misalignment he couldn't stretch out of. Every breath felt slightly incomplete.
Cain sat up.
His heartbeat was steady, but the sensation in his core pulsed unevenly, growing heavier with each second he remained inside the room.
"I need air," he muttered.
He stood, pulled on his jacket, and slipped into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind him.
The academy at night was subdued. Embedded runes cast a dim glow along stone walls, and the ambient hum of mana had settled into its lowest rhythm. Cain walked without destination, following familiar paths until the corridor opened to the outer walkway.
Cold air brushed his face.
The pressure eased—just a little.
For a moment, he thought that might be enough.
Then something shifted.
Not around him.
Inside him.
Cain froze.
His breath locked halfway in as his chest constricted violently. The pressure collapsed inward, crushing something deep in his core that had never been touched before.
He staggered forward, both hands slamming against the railing.
The shadow at his feet twisted.
The familiar tore itself free, fully manifesting without restraint. Its form warped violently, flattening against the stone before surging upward, wrapping around Cain's legs and torso, pressing inward as if trying to contain something that no longer fit.
Cain gasped.
The pressure exploded.
Not mana.
Not pain.
Something fundamental tore open inside him.
A hollow space collapsed, and whatever had been circling him for days rushed into that absence all at once.
Cain screamed.
The sound ripped out of him raw and uncontrolled, echoing through the academy corridors.
---
Liora heard it.
As she was just walking in the corridor,
The scream cut through the night, sharp and wrong, setting every instinct in her body on edge. She didn't hesitate. Turning toward the sound, she broke into a run, boots striking stone as she followed the echo toward the outer walkway.
The pressure hit her before she reached it.
Her steps faltered as the air grew heavy, each breath suddenly harder to draw. She slowed instinctively, forcing control back into her movement as she rounded the corner—
And saw him.
Cain had dropped to his knees.
His fingers scraped uselessly against the stone as his body convulsed, scream tearing itself out of him again before breaking off abruptly. Shadow surged around him in violent waves, unstable and incomplete, pooling at his feet and climbing the walls before collapsing back inward.
The air distorted.
Lights dimmed.
The space itself seemed to bend.
Liora stopped at the edge of the corridor, heart pounding—not from fear, but from recognition that this was something her training had never prepared her for.
Cain's scream cut off.
His body went slack.
He tipped sideways and collapsed onto the stone floor, limbs loose, breath shallow—almost peaceful, like someone falling abruptly into sleep.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—
His feet pressed into the ground.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Liora's breath caught.
Cain's boots scraped against the stone as his legs tensed. Knees straightened with visible resistance, muscles locking as if pulled by unseen force. His hips rose next, spine uncoiling last, vertebra by vertebra, until he stood upright.
Black aura poured from him.
Not smoke.
Not mist.
Something heavier—shadow shedding endlessly from his body, crawling along the floor, climbing the walls, dripping upward against gravity itself. The familiar dissolved completely, swallowed into the mass without sound.
Cain turned.
His eyes were open.
Entirely black.
No focus. No reflection.
He took his first step.
The stone beneath his foot fractured instantly—not exploding, but collapsing inward like thin ice over deep water. Cracks raced outward as the ground failed under the impossible load of his presence.
Liora remained frozen.
This was not mana.
This was not a curse.
Any response she chose could be catastrophically wrong.
Cain took his second step.
The corridor groaned as the floor buckled again, stone collapsing inward, the black aura thickening as the space around him trembled. The air felt thin, strained, as though reality itself resisted his movement.
He was coming toward her.
Liora could not move.
Before a third step could exist, Cain's body failed.
The shadow collapsed inward violently, snapping back into him as the aura tore itself apart. The pressure vanished in an instant, replaced by a silence so complete it rang in her ears.
Cain fell.
His body struck the stone hard and did not move.
The darkness evaporated, leaving only faint residue clinging to fractured ground and walls. The familiar reappeared beside him, smaller, distorted, trembling as it curled against his side.
Liora moved at last.
She reached Cain and knelt beside him, hand hovering just above his shoulder without touching. His breathing was shallow but steady. His skin was cold, veins darkened as though something had passed through him and left a stain behind.
The runes along the corridor remained dead.
The academy was silent.
Liora looked from Cain's still form to the shattered stone beneath her feet.
"…That shouldn't be possible, who and what are you cain" she said quietly.
Cain did not wake.
And deep beneath the academy, systems that had never failed recorded nothing at all.
---