Hari tightened his grip on the dagger.
The figure stood just beyond the circle of light, motionless yet deeply present, like a shadow that refused to vanish. Its robes hung in tatters, whispering without wind. And the mask—pure white, cracked, splattered with ancient blood—tilted slightly as if... amused.
> "What are you?" Hari asked again, voice low.
The figure chuckled softly.
Not mad. Not mocking.
Empty.
"I am the mistake that lived," it said. "The evolution that went too far… and could not return."
The mask turned to the corpses behind Hari.
"You're still early. Still… beautiful in your destruction."
Its hand rose slowly, bony fingers wrapped in blackened skin.
"I envy you."
---
Suddenly, the air grew dense.
A pressure swept through the dungeon, making the stone groan, making Hari's instincts scream. The blood mist around them coiled and shrank toward the figure, as if being devoured.
It stepped forward.
Hari's eyes narrowed. Muscles tensed. A new kind of fear crawled up his spine.
Not the fear of death.
The fear of recognition.
This thing was like him — or what he might become.
---
"You've taken the first sip," the masked one said, "but you don't yet know the thirst."
It took another step. Hari shifted sideways, positioning himself with his back toward the wall. His eyes flicked for exits. There were none.
"You've killed," it continued. "Absorbed. Evolved. But tell me…"
The figure stopped just a few feet away.
"Have you ever lost yourself?"
The chamber darkened. The blood on the walls began to tremble. Then melt. Then crawl… toward the masked one's feet.
> "I've seen what happens when hunters forget their names."
---
Without warning—
It attacked.
The figure moved like smoke, weightless and vicious. A clawed hand lashed out. Hari ducked instinctively, the talons slicing through the air where his neck had been. He countered with a wide slash—only to hit nothing.
The masked one vanished.
Behind him—!
Hari twisted just in time, blocking with his arm as black claws raked across his forearm. Sparks flew from bone. The force threw him backward.
He landed hard, skidding across blood-slick stone.
The masked one didn't chase. It stood silently, head tilted, watching.
"Fight back," it whispered. "Or be forgotten."
---
Hari rose slowly.
Blood ran down his arm. His breath was ragged. But his eyes…
They were glowing brighter now.
> "You're not the only one who forgot who they used to be," he said.
With a snarl, Hari launched forward.
He didn't dodge this time.
He met the strike head-on.
The masked one slashed.
Hari caught the arm.
With strength that wasn't his own, he twisted—and drove his dagger straight through the figure's shoulder.
It let out a piercing hiss.
Not in pain.
In pleasure.
---
"Good," it growled.
The blood mist erupted.
The entire dungeon shook as shadows collapsed inward, surrounding them in a dome of absolute darkness.
> [Hidden Trial Activated: Echo of the Blood Masked One]
Difficulty: Lethal
Conditions: Survive.
---
To be continued in Chapter 9: A Duel in the Dark
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