Agame Ashihi was working at the morgue. Just another boring day. The room was cold and quiet, filled with metal tables and the smell of cleaning spray and old clothes. The lights above flickered sometimes, and every time they did, Agame flinched a little. He hated this place. It was always too quiet, like the dead were listening.
He wore his gloves, pulling them tight as he opened another body bag. A Reaper. The armor was black, burnt on one side, cracked across the chest. The helmet was still on, but it had a big cut through the middle. Agame sighed. Another one. Just a number now. Another Reaper who went into the Rift and didn't come back alive.
He started to pull the tag from the chest plate when the corpse moved. Just a little. A twitch in the fingers. Agame froze. His heart jumped. Maybe he imagined it. Maybe it was just nerves. But then the hand moved again. This time fast.
The dead man grabbed Agame's wrist.
Agame screamed and fell back, kicking the table. He tried to pull away but the grip was strong. Way too strong for someone who's supposed to be dead. The Reaper's mask cracked open just a bit, and a strange blue light shined from the inside.
"Take it," the voice said. It was broken and rough, like metal grinding on stone.
"What—no, let go!" Agame yelled, trying to shake free.
"Take the core."
With his other hand, the Reaper reached inside his own chest plate and pulled out a glowing crystal. It was small, black, and pulsing with red light. It looked alive. Wrong. Like it didn't belong in this world. The Reaper shoved it into Agame's hand before he could stop it.
The moment it touched him, Agame felt fire.
His arm burned. The pain rushed up through his shoulder, into his chest, into his head. He screamed and dropped to the floor. The crystal melted into his skin like liquid. His vision blurred. The walls stretched and twisted. Shadows moved. He heard voices whispering, then laughing, then crying.
Everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the floor, breathing hard. The body on the table was still. Really still this time. The glow was gone. The Reaper was dead again.
Agame sat up slowly. His whole body hurt. His hand was shaking. He looked at it, expecting to see a hole or burn. But it looked normal. Except now, it felt like something was inside. Something heavy. Alive. Like a storm trapped under his skin.
The door to the room creaked open. Two morgue workers walked in.
"We heard yelling. You good?" one of them asked.
Agame blinked. "Yeah… I'm fine. Just slipped."
They looked at the Reaper on the table, then at Agame. Nobody said anything. Then they left.
That night, Agame couldn't sleep. His room felt wrong. The shadows were too dark. The air felt thick. Every sound was louder than usual. He stared at the ceiling, his chest still aching from where the crystal had gone in.
Then he heard it.
A voice.
"Agame Ashihi."
He sat up fast. "Who's there?"
Silence.
"We chose you."
Agame held his head. "No. Get out. I'm not part of this."
But the voice laughed. It was deep and cold. Like it didn't care what he wanted.
Even the cat outside his window stopped and stared at him like it knew something was wrong. The wind sounded like whispering. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it all, but the voice came back again and again, repeating his name.
The next morning, he felt sick. Not coughing sick. Different. Like he didn't belong in his own skin. His hands were warm, too warm. His eyes looked strange in the mirror. Too bright. When he blinked, his reflection blinked just a second late.
Walking to work felt strange. The street was normal, people moving around, but Agame could see weird things. Lines of light around people. Little flickers in the corners. And shadows that didn't match where they should be.
He passed two Reapers on patrol. Their armor was clean and heavy. One of them paused and looked around.
"You feel that?" the Reaper said.
"Yeah," the other replied. "Surge. Real faint. Like Rift energy."
Agame felt his stomach twist. He kept walking faster. He didn't want them to notice him. Not yet. Not until he knew what this thing inside him was.
That night, he dreamed.
Fire. So much fire. Buildings were falling. People screaming. The sky was broken, ripped open by a massive Rift. From it came something huge, floating, with too many eyes and long sharp limbs that didn't move like anything human.
Agame was standing in front of it. Alone. But he wasn't afraid. His body was glowing red. His voice echoed with something strange. Power. Rage. And the thing from the Rift didn't attack.
It bowed.
When Agame woke up, he was shaking. Sweat on his face. The room was cold. Too cold.
And deep inside him, something whispered.
It was still there.
Still awake.
Still hungry.