The walls bled.
Not drips — torrents. Arterial spray gushed from cracks in the plaster as the possessed girl's body contorted, joints snapping backward until her arms split into too many elbows, too many fingers. Those fingers stretched until they scraped the ceiling, nails curling into hooked claws. Veins ran down the walls like roots in reverse, pulsing with each shuddering heartbeat that wasn't her own.
Her face twitched, eyes rolling back — and then Evan wasn't in the room anymore.
A scream tore through the air — half teenage girl, half violent boy — the sound of something rotten happening inside them.
- F.C.H 2020 SCENARIO -
A grey, rain-slicked street in 2020.
A man stood there — young, sharp-eyed, an ancient necklace hanging at his throat — clutching a bundle of ritual texts scavenged from that VR scenario.
Mithra Bhattacharya. His voice was steady, but his hands trembled.
Mithra's mind had been cracked since childhood. He was convinced there was someone trapped inside mirrors.
If I can find the right rite… I can bring him back.
Ravel. A boy who had vanished into a mirror — not because of sorcery, but because his mind had split so badly it dragged something else into the world. Something that shouldn't have been. That mirror-world, a prison of his own making, had shattered… and now the thing inside wore his granddaughter's skin.
The rain dissolved into the smell of blood.
Evan stood his ground in silence as Ravel's too-many eyes shifted toward the two girls behind him.
The possessed form lunged at Sumei — a blur of tendons and teeth. Evan caught it mid-swipe, his palm slamming into its chest.
"Out. Now." His voice was ice.
The Daemon card flickered, tearing open a jagged space in the darkness.
Sumei hesitated — then she and the other girl ran.
Claws raked across Evan's ribs, deep enough for bone to flash white for a heartbeat before flesh began knitting itself back together. Pain was nothing but background noise.
Multiple limbs clamped onto his legs, arms, broken ribs, and open wounds. Then lifting evan up
The floor tilted sideways — as those limbs made of limbs start smacking him on each corner.
"You have a strong body. Can I have it?" it hissed, Every blow landed heavier, the air growing colder with each crack of bone.
"Pretty please— HeLP—" another voice broke through, warped and desperate.
"KïlL mE—" that voice cried.
Evan stayed silent. The grin twisting the thing's face was all wrong. Pissed, he slammed his forehead into theirs, snapping the head back.
He paused just long enough to rip through the limbs holding him, brushing them off like ants.
"So I can interact with it? Interesting," he muttered, not surprised.
---
A low voice slithered in his ear — the Daemon, amused and cruel.
"Because of me, of course. With me, you're neither alive nor dead, which makes me a bridge to you… as much as you're a bridge to me."
It chuckled while the girl's mouth opened too wide and Ravel gnawed at the soul inside her.
"Say, if you defeat this ghost… want me to eat this ba—"
Evan shoved the Daemon back into his coat pocket mid-sentence. Silence.
Ravel's laughter spilled from the girl's lips.
"Beat me all you like. You can't tear me out against my will. I'll take over your body too."
Evan cracked his knuckles as his wounds sealed and ribs knitted back into place.
"Just shut up, will you? You already have a body — but going for mine? Not a bad idea… except you dared to attack that brat first."
For a heartbeat, Ravel saw it — the intent.
"You said I can't tear you out, right?"
"Your challenge is welcome."
And then he saw the absolute intent behind Evan's eyes — and flinched.
"Wait—"
Evan didn't wait.
His fists fell like wrecking balls. Each strike twisted the air, splintered the ground, tore at the space between them. Blood splashed — not the girl's, but the thing's essence, burning and black.
The world around them began to come apart. The floor tilted sideways, walls unraveling into strips of grey light. Evan didn't care.
"Stop—"
"Please—ahk—"
Evan kept hitting, each blow harder than the last. Knuckles split, bone showing, then healed again, denser. Ravel's face was still visible — terrified — but he was being beaten like a ragdoll.
---
CRACK.
Darkness shattered.
Evan yanked the ghost — pale, shivering, childlike — out of the girl's body and hurled it into the warped air.
"What was that you said? I can't tear you out against your will? Guess that's got nothing to do with me changing your will."
The realm folded in on itself and was gone.
The room was still.
The girl lay unconscious.
Mana hovered nearby, uneasy but faintly entertained by the trembling, beaten spirit.
Sumei was already on the floor, trying to wake the girl, whispering softly.
Evan's gaze never left the ghost.
"What are you?"
Ravel swallowed — or pretended to — voice cracking.
"…I… was his son. Mithra Bhattacharya's. He called me Ravel. I… wasn't born. I was just there. Created by his thoughts."
"Created from that old man's mind?" Evan asked, intrigued.
"Yeah. I don't know either. He was desperate. Found those scenarios, remembered them, and performed the rite to bring me here. But even then, he kept me in the mirror because he thought I'd run away."
"And where's that old man now?" Evan crossed his arms.
"He's in the hospital…" said another voice — the girl he'd possessed.
She coughed blood, eyes fluttering open. Sumei steadied her.
"Is he still alive?" she asked.
"I don't know… I c-couldn't see him for a long time." Her voice cracked under the weight of fresh trauma.
Silence lingered.
"He'll be fine. Don't worry," Evan said.
"R-really?"
"No idea if you ask me. But hey — expecting the best won't hurt, right?" His tone was flat, not quite comforting, but not cold either.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"…A-aaru," she whispered, wiping her tears.
"Aaru, can you take me to that hospital you mentioned earlier? I need to speak to your grandfather."
Evan's voice was calm, but there was steel under it.
She hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve… then gave a small nod.
Evan wound Ravel's ghostly form tighter around his wrist like a spectral bandage.
"You're coming too," he muttered flatly. The spirit's faint groan went unheard over the sudden bark in his voice.
The air in the hospital was sterile, humming with the low whirr of machines. The faint scent of antiseptic clung to everything.
At the reception desk, Evan's presence drew wary glances.
"We're here for Aaru's grandfather, Mithra Bhattacharya," he said, voice flat as stone.
The nurse glanced at the half-visible ghost flickering at his side, then back to the logbook. "…Room 308."
Evan gave a single nod and walked down the corridor, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like distant insects.
Is that… some kind of new fashion? the nurse thought as he disappeared from sight.
Sumei kept pace beside him, eyeing the ghost on his wrist.
"Grandpa, you're collecting ghosts like Pokémon these days."
"Oh, they still exist, huh? How many Pokémon are there now?"
"Around a million."
"Geez. Can't say I expected less from them."
"You like any of them?"
Evan didn't answer cause
They reached at Room 308.
Inside, an old man lay propped against white pillows, tubes in his arms, an oxygen mask clinging to his face. Even in that fragile state, his eyes were sharp — the same blade-like gaze Evan had seen in the vision.
Those eyes flicked from Sumei, then locked on Evan.
"…You… why do I feel like you're my son?"
Evan didn't respond, but Sumei stepped forward, fists clenched.
"Hey, old man — what kind of person are you?" she burst out.
Her voice trembled with anger. "How could you let a nobody — a mere imagination — take over your own granddaughter's body?!"
She was furious that a child had to suffer because an old man clung to a phantom. But Mithra said nothing — no guilt, no shame, only a deep, unblinking curiosity as he stared at Evan. That only made her angrier.
"Are you even listening to me?! How could you let your own grandkid suffer over—"
Evan's hand landed on her shoulder. The touch silenced her instantly.
She wanted to yell more, to drag the truth out of him — but deep down, she realised she might cross a line she couldn't take back. Frustrated, she turned and stormed out.
---
"I'm not your son," Evan said at last, "and he never possessed me."
"…Then why do I—"
"His soul is with me. But you do realise what you did wasn't right?"
Mithra stayed silent.
"You dragged someone who wasn't even yours into this world, then handed your own granddaughter over as a vessel — and never stopped to think about what she'd go through. Why let someone else suffer for your sake? That's not even my main question…"
Evan's voice sharpened.
"…Were you satisfied accomplishing nothing?"
The old man froze.
"I mean — you did bring Ravel into this world, sure. But then you left him trapped in a mirror for who knows how long. And when you finally freed him, you used your granddaughter as the vessel. Tell me — are you proud of that?"
Mithra's breathing grew uneven. His monitor beeped faster. He said nothing, but his eyes were glassy, holding back tears.
"I'm guessing you were confused back then," Evan said quietly. "Everyone gets desperate in the wrong moment. I'm not here to blame you for losing control. But that kid — she still cries for you. And you can at least… do better now, right?"
That broke him. A weak, shuddering cry escaped his throat.
"I… I didn't know what to do. I kept hearing Ravel cry — calling to me. I knew it was in my head, but I couldn't stop it. I just… I wanted to live a normal life with my lost son…"
His voice cracked.
"So I got desperate. I knew about the old rituals — started digging deeper. I didn't think I'd summon a twisted version of him. I didn't think he'd take my granddaughter. I… didn't think at all…"
The room fell silent, save for the hiss of his oxygen and the machine's steady beeping.
After a long moment, he whispered, "Can I see Aaru?"
Evan nodded. "I'll send her in. And once you've apologised, there's something I want to ask you."
Mithra sighed, then gave a slow nod.
"…As you wish, young man. But tell me — if he didn't possess you, why can I still feel his presence?"
"Oh, right." Evan slapped his palm. "Hey. Show yourself, asshole."
Ravel's ghost half-materialised from his wrist, waving awkwardly with a beaten, nervous look.
The room went quiet again — a silence more awkward than hostile.
"…That's enough of an answer," Mithra murmured.
"Glad to hear it, sir." Evan turned to leave.
Moments later, Aaru burst in with tear-filled eyes and flushed cheeks.
"Dadu!!" she cried, rushing to his side.
---
Outside, Evan leaned against the wall. Sumei sat on the bench, arms crossed, while Mana chatted with the nurse.
"Why'd you stop me, Grandpa?" Sumei asked, eyes fixed on the floor — grumpy, but a little curious.
"Why do you think?"
"Don't tell me you're the type to forgive anyone, even someone like him."
"It's not about forgiveness. In fact, this has nothing to do with morals. Confusion makes people do worse things than hate ever could."
Sumei frowned, still not fully getting it.
"So… you did forgive him? Just like that?"
"Why should I forgive? I'm not the one who was hurt."
"…But what if he does it again?"
"You can smell emotions, right? What did you smell in that room?"
"…A mix of sorrow, guilt, sadness."
"Not exactly the emotions of someone in a healthy place, are they?"
She fell silent again.
"Were you not speaking from your own emotions just now?" Evan cut in.
"Emotions can blind a person — but they can also open their eyes. Just let it run its course. People always end up where they deserve to be."
Sumei hated that she couldn't argue back. She also hated that she almost admired what he'd just said.
"…Grandpa, you really are something else," she muttered, smiling despite herself.