The Black Classification Mission – Bait for the Shadows
The sky above the Gray Academy held no stars that night.
Usually, phosphorescent lights danced above the glass domes, but tonight, something seemed to choke even the light itself. When Raine entered the side hall—whose door opened only by direct command—he knew… what awaited him was not training.
Director Malik stood alone, staring at a map hanging in the shadows, showing a forgotten location near the borders of the Nora continent. Without turning, he spoke in a hoarse voice:
"Do you hear it, Raine? The screams we cannot hear… in the world between dreams and ash?"
Raine stepped forward heavily, despite his strength—something about this place made him feel smaller than ever.
"Crysai Village," Malik finally said, pointing to a spot on the map. "It disappeared from records fifty years ago. No messages, no witnesses, only a void… until recently, when we began to pick up whispers there… whispers like those your shadow utters."
Raine's eyes narrowed.
"A black classification mission?" he asked, his voice tense.
"More than that," Malik replied, handing him a small vial containing a gray, liquid substance. "This is bait. Your presence alone will open the gate."
"A gate?" Raine snapped.
"The one that links our world to the voids… where banished entities dwell. And perhaps… where the answers to your origin lie."
⸻
That very night, Raine left the academy under the cover of darkness, alone, without guidance. Only Malik's voice echoed in his mind:
"If you meet your reflection there… don't trust it. Not everyone who looks like you is you."
Crysai Village was a blend of rotting ruins and dense fog, reflecting colors unseen in the human spectrum. Buildings were eroded, doors open to an illogical emptiness. It was as if time had abandoned this place.
As he advanced, the air grew heavier, his head weighed down by indistinguishable sounds.
"…Raine… heir of the mistake…"
He stopped. No one spoke. Yet the phrase echoed inside him as if it emerged from his very marrow.
Then he saw it.
His reflection.
Standing in the middle of the path, smiling, with eyes completely black.
"Finally, you returned," said the being, resembling him. "Have you missed your true self?"
⸻
This was no fight.
It was a battle between two consciousnesses, between one memory and another. Raine felt his body splitting, some of his thoughts siding with the other shadow. Around him appeared incomplete beings, faceless, resembling his shadow's former victims… those it had swallowed.
"Do you think you control it?" the reflection said. "You were created to be a gateway, not a master."
But Raine did not retreat. He slammed the vial he carried to the ground, releasing the gray substance that formed a circle of energy, sucking in the beings around him—including his reflection.
The reflection screamed as it was pulled in:
"You will not survive… because you are me… and one day, I will be you!"
Then it vanished.
Raine knelt, gasping, blood flowing from his nose, ear, and eye. His hands trembled—not from fear, but from the internal fracture.
In the depths of his unconsciousness, he saw the same scene repeated: a child born in a desert of ash, carried by a woman with eyes of smoke, whispering to him:
"They won't let you know… because if you did, no one after you could ever hide the sun."
⸻
On the way back, Raine was no longer the same.
He no longer merely heard shadows. He began to understand their language.
⸻
Back at the academy, Malik read the mission report, which stated:
"Raine Darkol… stopped the gate, but the traces of interference remain within him. The shadow is not contained… rather, it has begun to contain him."
The director looked to the cloud-covered sky and whispered:
"The last breath's beginning… will be by his hands."