Return to the present.
Back with Aria and the Others
Reeve (Ghost) was kneeling on the ground. His shoulders rose and fell irregularly, as if his body had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes—two bottomless pits of black—looked lifeless, frozen in a mental stasis. And yet… something was there. No twitch, no flicker, but a presence, lurking in silence.
Aria (tense):
She stood motionless. Her gaze fixed on him, her whole body taut. Every instinct screamed at her to turn away, to run. But her legs didn't move.
Running wasn't an option.
Aria (sharp):
"Reeve!"
Her voice cut through the strange, heavy silence that hung in the air—less like atmosphere, more like a membrane stretched over reality.
No reaction.
Vera (Phantom, startled):
She knelt beside him. Her hand trembled as she touched his face, as if trying to reach through skin and resonance to grasp whatever held him captive.
"This is not good… this is really not good."
Aria (exhaling shallowly):
"Something's taking him. The island is trying to swallow him."
She said it out loud, even though each word felt like a betrayal of logic. And yet, it was true.
Reeve (Ghost) slowly lifted his head. Not like someone waking—but like something realizing it had a body to control. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Instead…
Something else spoke through him.
"…you… now… belong… to… us…"
The voice wasn't his. It was a cacophony of distorted tones. Multiple layers stacked over each other, some stretched into nothingness, others oppressively close—like whispered metal scraping over shattered stone.
Aria (thinking fast):
A thought sparked inside her. Not logical. Not safe. But a chance.
"We have to shut him down. Now."
Vera (Phantom, shocked):
"WHAT?!"
Aria:
She had already stepped closer. "It got him through the air. His awareness, his resonance—it's being infiltrated. We have to break the connection. Throw his body into shock."
Vera (sharp):
"And what if that thing keeps eating him anyway?"
Aria (cold):
"Then he's lost either way."
Vera stared at her. In her eyes, there was conflict. Panic. Anger. And something else—the refusal to let go.
"He'll hate me for this."
Aria:
"Then at least he'll hate you alive."
A moment passed. No sound. No wind.
Then Vera moved.
Vera (Phantom, trembling slightly):
She grabbed Reeve by the collar, pulled him toward her, as if closeness alone might still reach him. Then she leaned in close to his ear. Her lips barely moved.
A curse.
Doom's Lullaby.
Resonance filled the space like a void collapsing inward.
Reeve (Ghost) opened his eyes wide. His pupils dilated—not in fear, but as if his mind was fighting a web of shadow. His body arched slightly—then collapsed.
One ragged breath—then silence.
His body went limp.
Aria (low):
She knelt beside him. "Vera?"
Vera (Phantom, tight-lipped):
"He's alive. Barely."
Aria:
"How long does the effect last?"
Vera:
"A few seconds… maybe a minute. After that? Either he comes back or…"
Aria (quiet):
"Or we lose him."
She looked down at Reeve. His body was still. But the stillness was deceptive. Something inside him was fighting.
Not visible. But present.
Vera (whispering):
"It's a war in there."
Aria:
"And we have no idea who's fighting it."
The ground beneath them shifted. Not a tremor—an echo. As if something far away had stirred awake.
Vera (alert):
"Something's coming."
Aria (turning):
Her gaze moved to the metallic trees, reaching skyward like broken spears. Between them…
Three figures.
No faces. No eyes. No mouths.
But they were smiling.
Aria (coldly):
"This was only the beginning."
The air around them changed. The pressure increased—not physically, but mentally. Like a weight pressing down on their thoughts.
Vera (Phantom, cautious):
"They're not moving."
Aria:
"Not yet."
Reeve (Ghost) twitched. Just a muscle under the skin. Barely a reflex. But enough.
Vera:
"He's alive."
Aria:
"For now. But if those things over there move, we're done."
The figures began to move. No footsteps. No sound. They glided.
Aria (quietly):
"No time for questions. I'll take the left one."
Vera:
"And I've got the right."
They split instinctively. Two arcs to guard the point where Reeve lay.
The figures came closer.
With every movement, they looked less human. Their limbs twisted, as if bones were being rearranged. Shadows danced around them like living swarms of darkness.
Aria (in her mind):
Don't think. Just act.
She raised her hand. Her resonance flared—silent, focused. No flash. No noise. Just precision.
The first figure approached.
Aria:
She let it come.
Then she struck.