The night was wrong.
Not just dark—but haunted. The kind of darkness that swallowed sound, where even the wind seemed afraid to breathe.
A young woman ran through the depths of the forest.
She was twenty-three.
Injured.
Her breath came in broken gasps, each step heavier than the last. Blood soaked one side of her torn dress, clinging to her shoulder like a dying memory. Branches clawed at her skin as she stumbled forward, desperate… terrified.
Then—
She stopped.
A gloved hand shot out from the darkness.
It wrapped around her neck.
Lifted her into the air.
Her legs kicked, her fingers clawed at the hand choking her life away. A faint, strangled sound escaped her lips—
Then silence.
Her eyes rolled back.
Her body went limp.
The hand released her.
She dropped like something already forgotten.
From the shadows, a few men stepped forward. Without a word, they began digging. Mud piled up, wet and heavy.
They threw her body into the pit.
Covered her.
Erased her.
And as if the sky itself wanted to bury the truth—
Rain began to fall.
Three days ago
Grace stood in her office.
Alive.
The room was minimal—clean, cold, and silent. A place where emotions didn't belong. Her sharp eyes reflected something deeper than exhaustion… something unreadable.
An old employee approached her slowly.
"Sir darven is calling you in his room."
Grace gave a small nod. "Hmm."
The old man's gaze lingered—sharp, almost suspicious—as she walked past him.
She reached the office door.
Opened it.
Inside, a man sat behind a desk. Black hair, a medium beard, around forty-five. He leaned back in his chair, studying her.
"Oh, Grace. Come. Sit."
She didn't hesitate.
"I want to talk to you about a new case."
Scene shift.
A young man sat alone on a bench.
Blue shirt. Black shorts. Sneakers. Messy hair. Sharp eyes. A defined jawline.
His phone pressed against his ear.
No answer.
He lowered it slowly.
Back to Grace.
"So that's it?" she asked calmly. "Or is there anything else you want to tell me?"
The man paused. "No… that's it."
Grace stood. "Alright. I'll leave. I need to prepare for tomorrow."
She walked out, returned to her room, picked up her coat and phone—
A missed call.
From eyrx
She didn't waste time.
Leaving the office, she got into her car, started the engine, and called him back.
"What happened? Is everything alright?"
A voice replied, softer than expected. "Yes… I just care about you."
Grace sighed lightly. "I know. Where are you?"
A small pause.
"Where do you think I am?"
"…Alright. I'm coming."
She hung up.
And drove.
The boy sat under the open sky.
His fingers touched the locket hanging from his neck. He stared at it, eyes distant.
"Why… do I still wear this?" he murmured. "Since childhood…"
His voice lowered.
"Why didn't Grandma ever take it off…? What's so special about it…?"
After some time—
Grace arrived.
He looked up. "You finally came. I thought you forgot me after getting this case."
"That's not it," she replied calmly. "Come. Let's get coffee."
They walked into a small café behind them and sat down.
Grace leaned slightly forward. "Why would you think I'd forget you?"
He looked uneasy. "I don't know… I just don't feel good about this. You know how many people tried to solve this case… and what happened to them."
Silence.
"You also know it's illegal," he continued. "The government strictly banned it. And you're going alone…"
His voice dropped.
"I don't like it."
Grace's eyes sharpened.
"You know I've dreamed of this case. To uncover the mystery… to solve it." She paused. "Nothing will happen to me."
He clenched his fist.
"You don't understand your value in my life. If something happens to you… I'll—"
"Enough." Grace cut him off, almost teasing. "You're getting too possessive. Drink your coffee."
Later—
They stood at a roadside, waiting for the red light.
"I'll meet you after solving this case," Grace said casually.
The boy looked at her. "Who knows if we'll meet again or not."
"You can be dramatic later," she replied. "The light's red. Let's go before we have to wait another five minutes."
She stepped forward—
A car sped toward her.
Fast.
Too fast.
"GRACE—!"
The boy grabbed her and pulled her back just in time.
The car passed like a bullet.
Grace froze.
"…I almost died."
The boy didn't respond.
He just stood there.
Shocked.
"…Hey," she said again. "What happened?"
"…Nothing," he replied quietly. "Let's go."
She frowned slightly.
Something felt… off.
Night.
The boy lay on his bed, texting.
You prepared your luggage?
Grace replied: Yes.
Don't forget your gun and bullets.
I know. Safety first.
Sleep now. You're leaving early.
Okay.
The chat ended.
He threw his phone aside.
Silence filled the room.
Then—
He stood up.
Wore his shoes.
And left.
The streets were quiet.
He walked without direction, grabbed a can of soft drink, opened it—
Psshhh…
The sound echoed softly in the night.
He drank.
Kept walking.
Eventually, he reached a bridge.
Below it, a river flowed. The sound of water echoed gently, almost calming.
He stared at it.
Then turned—
And froze.
A truck.
The same truck from earlier.
His eyes narrowed.
"…That's the one."
Without hesitation, he moved to chase it—but it was too fast.
Then—
A bike.
Parked nearby.
No key in sight.
He didn't think twice.
He got on.
Started it.
The engine roared.
"Hey! Stop! Thief!" the owner shouted behind him.
The boy ignored it.
He chased the truck.
Inside the truck—
"The boy is following us," one man said.
"Take the bunker route," another replied coldly.
The driver nodded.
"I knew it…" the boy muttered. "They're trying to kill Grace intentionally."
Meanwhile—
Grace packed her luggage.
She paused.
Looked at a photo.
Her mother.
"…Where are you, Mom…?" she whispered. "I miss you."
A soft breath.
"Tomorrow… I leave for the mission. I hope I solve this mystery… the one that's been unsolved for fifty years."
Back to the boy.
The truck finally stopped.
He slowed down, parking his bike at a distance.
"They didn't notice me…"
He followed quietly.
Upstairs.
Dim lights flickered.
Then—
He saw it.
Guns. Barrels. Men everywhere.
A gangster hideout.
He hid in the shadows.
Two men stepped forward, lowering their heads to someone sitting on a chair.
"Sir… we found the girl. But… we failed. If that boy hadn't pulled her back, we would have killed her."
Silence.
A dangerous silence.
"I knew it…" the boy whispered. "They were trying to kill her."
Suddenly—
BANG!
A gunshot hit the wall near him.
A voice echoed.
"Stop hiding, boy. Come out."
He exhaled slowly.
"…Caught."
He checked his gun.
Loaded.
He stepped out.
Dozens of men turned toward him.
The man on the chair smiled faintly. "So… you're the one who saved her."
The boy's eyes burned.
"She is my life. And you tried to kill her. I won't tolerate that."
A man laughed. "Listen to this kid… a little puppy wants to fight us?"
Laughter erupted.
The boy didn't wait.
He moved.
Fast.
BANG!
A shot fired—one man dropped.
Then—
Chaos.
Footsteps thundered.
"GET HIM!"
He dodged a punch—
THUD!
Elbow strike to the ribs.
A bottle swung—
CRASH!
Glass shattered against someone's head.
A kick—
WHAM!
Another body hit the ground.
Fists collided.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
He blocked—
Countered—
A chair swung—
CRACK!
Wood splintered.
Someone grabbed him—
He twisted—
SMASH!
Slammed him into the floor.
More came.
Too many.
Breathing heavy.
Five minutes.
Just five minutes—
But it felt endless.
Then—
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Five gunshots.
Time slowed.
Bullets tore into his body.
He staggered.
Fell.
THUD.
The world blurred.
Boots slammed into him.
KICK! THUD! CRACK!
Blows rained down mercilessly.
Blood spread beneath him.
The man on the chair finally stood.
Watching.
Cold.
Silent.
And the night swallowed everything again.As the last kick landed, his vision shattered into darkness—
Then—
Silence.
A strange, suffocating silence.
His eyes snapped open.
He stood… yet he didn't.
Below him—his own body lay motionless on the cold floor, blood spreading slowly like a shadow consuming light. Everything around him had frozen. The men, the air, even the falling dust—paused, as if time itself had been strangled
Then—
"Eryx… you are dead."
The voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Eryx's eyes snapped open. He turned sharply, his body tense, searching the void.
"Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"
Silence answered him for a moment… then the voice returned, calm and heavy.
"You are… special. That is why you have been given a choice."
Eryx frowned, his heartbeat quickening. "Choice? What are you talking about? And where am I?"
A pause.
Then—
"I have already told you. You are dead."
The words hit harder this time.
Dead.
Fragments flashed in his mind—the road, the truck, the fight… Grace.
His jaw tightened. "...So this is it? Some kind of afterlife?"
The voice ignored the question.
"Listen carefully. You have two options."
Eryx straightened slightly, forcing himself to stay calm. "Fine. I'm listening."
"First—return to your life as it was."
"You will gain power… a system beyond human limits."
Eryx's eyes narrowed.
"But that power will not be yours alone to command. If you fail to control it… it will control you."
A cold feeling crept into his chest. "Control me… how?"
The voice grew darker.
"You will become one of them."
Eryx's expression hardened. "Them? What does that even mean?"
"Beings consumed by their own power. No will. No restraint. Only hunger."
Silence fell again.
Eryx swallowed, then spoke more carefully. "And the second option?"
For the first time, the voice seemed… distant.
"Know your past."
"Return to life with power… but lose everything."
Eryx's breath caught slightly.
"Your memories. Your bonds. The ones you love… will vanish from your mind."
Grace.
Her name echoed inside him like a fading light.
"…You're saying I forget everyone?" he asked quietly.
"Everything."
Eryx clenched his fists. "What kind of power? What past? You're asking me to choose blindly."
The voice responded, unshaken.
"Your past is yours to uncover."
"Your power will be shaped by your nature."
"That's not an answer," Eryx snapped. "If I lose control… what do I become? What happens to me?"
A long silence followed.
Then—
"You will become something you are not."
"Selfish. Empty. Devoured by desire for power."
The voice lowered.
"It will not be you… but it will wear your face."
Eryx's breathing slowed.
"…So either I risk becoming a monster," he muttered, "or I lose everything that makes me human."
No answer came.
Only the endless dark… waiting.
The weight of the decision pressed down on him.
Grace's face.
The truth behind the case.
His own unknown past.
Eryx closed his eyes for a brief moment… then opened them, steady and resolved.
"I…"