The rain was falling with a deadly gentleness, beating the asphalt with a steady rhythm—like a sad song the night never tires of. The sky was gray, like an old widow, and the air was thick with the scent of rain and soil… just the way Neuvillette liked it.
He stood alone on the sidewalk, as if the city itself had abandoned him. No umbrella, no destination, nothing but a plastic cup held in his trembling hand.
"This weather plays music for my heart…" he muttered coldly as he raised the cup to his lips.
His life had taken on a bitterly ironic pattern. Job after job, firing after firing… the reason? No anger, no ambition—just a soul-crushing boredom. He would punch his bosses for no clear reason, then walk out as if nothing had happened.
He took the last sip of his drink and tossed the cup into a trash bin. Closing his eyes, he spoke to himself in a low voice, dripping with sarcasm:
"Yeah… I'll become an Akuma in the nightmares of the Abyss. What a joke. I could almost laugh."
He slowly opened his eyes. The red traffic light blinked in front of him. With every flash, the boredom inside him screamed.
"Maybe… maybe I'll find something that breaks this rotten stagnation inside me."
The light turned green. He walked forward with slow steps toward one direction only: the Akuma Organization.
The distance was long, and the rain unrelenting, but Neuvillette felt nothing… as if he were just a ghost walking without sensation. After half an hour, he stood before a building drenched in authority. A skyscraper piercing the clouds like a challenge.
He looked up… the glass balcony reflected the gray sky, and the building's lights formed a halo of awe around it.
"Nice life they have… money, battles, and endless noise. I need this… desperately."
"If not for her sacrifice and the old man's conditions, I wouldn't be standing here… pretending. It's the best choice I have."
As he finished his sentence, he looked down at his right hand, wrapped in a black bandage, his eyes cold.
"Hey, what are you staring at?"
A rough voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He turned halfway, looking at the guard with calm indifference and said:
"I just liked the architect's taste… wanted to admire it."
The guard frowned and stepped closer:
"If you're not here to join, then please… leave, kid."
But Neuvillette didn't move. He climbed three steps, turned to look at the guard from above, and spoke in a voice as calm as the rain:
"Relax… I came here to become one of you."
His nonchalant attitude irritated the guard, but he said nothing. He simply glared at him from beneath his brows and said:
"Then let's see if you qualify… you annoying pretty boy."
Neuvillette smiled faintly, arrogantly, and patted the guard on the shoulder:
"My qualifications… will speak for themselves, don't worry."
He stepped inside the building. The interior looked like an art gallery—excessively clean, white glossy floors reflecting his own face.
'Damn… this place is so clean I actually look handsome in here. Dangerous…'
"Hey, mister staring at the wall!"
A soft voice stopped him.
He turned… a short-haired blonde girl with wide brown eyes, wearing a neat formal uniform.
He walked toward her with confident steps, placed his hand on the counter, and leaned slightly forward with a smile:
"Good evening, beautiful. I came to join the Akuma… and I believe I'm quite the deal."
She didn't respond. She simply looked at him with mild sarcasm and began typing on her keyboard. Her eyes shredded his ego without saying a word.
Neuvillette wiped his face, thinking something might be on it.
"What's your name?"
She finally asked, coldly.
"Neuvillette… Neuvillette Sullivan."
He said it while slicking his wet hair back, fully immersed in his "mysterious guy" act.
After a brief silence, the girl finally smiled and said:
"Please wait in the seating area. Your turn will come soon."
Neuvillette walked over to the chairs and sat down. The indoor air was cold, and the silence carried an eerie aura of mystery.
Suddenly, a door in the corner of the office opened, and a girl stepped out… along with silence itself.
Everyone in the hall moved aside as if she carried a special rank.
Her hair was long and white with streaks of red. Her eyes were blue—shards of ice… and down her cheek, black eyeliner flowed in a strange and striking way.
Her features were hauntingly beautiful. She wore a long white shirt, open at the center, revealing part of her stomach, and behind her were two swords… one of them dripping blood.
Neuvillette felt a tightness in his chest. He stared at her for a long moment. She walked as if she didn't belong to this world. One of the escorts whispered:
"She's classified as Akuma Fool… her exceptional skills just need time to become legend."
Another smiled and added:
"New blood to protect this world from the nightmares of the Abyss… what a talent."
She stepped toward the receptionist and said in a cold tone:
"I'm ready… whenever you are."
The receptionist pointed toward a door on the left side of the hall, surrounded by ominous energy.
"Please… the room is there."
The girl walked steadily, passing right by Neuvillette… and looked at him for a second.
Her gaze was piercing, cold, and familiar.
He turned toward her, but she quickly looked away and entered the room. As she opened the door, a black aura burst from it… and it carried a name only whispered:
Abyss.
She closed the door behind her.
Neuvillette closed his eyes and whispered with a broken voice:
"That gaze… those features… impossible… she looks just like her."
"Sir, it's your turn."
The receptionist called out in a cold tone.
Neuvillette rose from his seat, taking slow breaths, as if his body was preparing to enter a new stage of madness. He lightly stretched his arms to the sides and walked steadily toward the door, while the receptionist followed him with eyes that could barely hide her disgust. As if she saw him as an anomaly in this place—or a curse walking on two legs.
He opened the door slowly… and stepped into a dazzling room. Blinding white, lit by a gold-painted ceiling, glowing as if it were the heart of the sun. In the center of the room stood a woman in a refined violet dress, her black hair tied neatly back, her eyes black as the night, and her beauty carried a dignity that offered no comfort.
She smiled and approached him with graceful steps:
"Looks like you're the last Akuma of the day… I hope you have powers worthy of this seat, like the girl before you."
But Neuvillette didn't answer immediately. He kept looking at her, his eyes fixed. There was something in her aura that froze the air around her… something closer to a silent threat.
'She's no ordinary staff member… she's hiding more than she shows. She might be the director… or worse.'
He smiled with arrogant confidence and said in a tone that held a trace of superiority:
"I don't know her abilities, but mine… are better."
He slowly raised his right hand and removed the black bandage wrapped around it… revealing a hand glowing with a dark aura, like black smoke coiling around his forearm like a snake dancing on the flames of rage.
The woman's eyes widened in rare astonishment… and she said, with a tone mixed with admiration and caution:
"What a terrifying hand… Can you show me what it can do?"
Neuvillette smiled, moved his hand vertically… and from his palm surged a black scythe, slicing through the marble floor with eerie smoothness, leaving behind a trail as if a storm had passed through.
The woman placed her hand on her chin and said with a voice savoring chaos:
"In all my time here… I've never seen a hand with such a unique aura."
But the moment didn't last.
A man suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if he stepped from a void. His hair was long and dark, wearing a black coat and a red shirt, and behind him floated a giant sword, untethered by any string.
He grabbed Neuvillette's hand with sudden force and spoke in a tone that tolerated no courtesy:
"Boy… where did you get this hand?"
Neuvillette shot him a cold glare and yanked his hand away violently:
"And what kind of question is that…?"
The man's eyes were entirely black—no whites, no life. His gaze devoured answers before they could even be spoken.
"That hand… belongs to the Naoi Clan. How did you acquire it?"
A heavy silence filled the room. And Neuvillette, hiding none of his anger, repeated:
"I don't need to answer your question."
The woman quickly intervened, stepping between them. Her tone was firm, yet soft:
"Enough, Shingen. We're here to assess unique abilities, not investigate bloodlines. And the boy in front of you possesses one."
Shingen stared long at Neuvillette, then sliced the air with his hand, tearing open a black rift that warped space itself. Half of his body entered it, then he looked back once more and said in a foreboding voice:
"You don't look like a Naoi… but I will find the truth, even if I have to tear you apart."
Then he vanished.
Neuvillette felt a wave of sudden hatred surge through his chest. Something inside him wanted to rip that man apart instantly. But Mary, who was still smiling, placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Ignore him… Shingen is obsessed with analyzing others' powers. Just ignore it."
She gently pulled her hand back and continued:
"Also, Mr. Neuvillette… you've been accepted. You're now one of the Akuma… and you'll enter the Abyss."
Neuvillette smiled as he began re-wrapping the bandage around his hand, as if nothing had happened:
"And when do I start, Miss…?"
"I'm Mary Insolv… just call me Mary. And you may begin now."
They walked out together from the chamber. The receptionist was waiting for them and stood up respectfully upon seeing Mary. The latter spoke firmly, placing her hand strongly on Neuvillette's shoulder:
"This boy passed the test… with the rank of Akuma Fool. Register him immediately—his journey in the Abyss begins now."
"Whaaat?!"
The receptionist gasped so loudly that Neuvillette and Mary exchanged confused glances.
Then she quickly bowed and said:
"Sorry… it's fine. Welcome, Mr. Neuvillette… to the Akuma."
Neuvillette gave a sideways nod with a sly smile. Mary leaned in and whispered:
"Head to that room… you'll find a floating paper in the darkness. Read it, and everything will begin."
"Good luck… Akuma Fool."
**
Neuvillette approached the room… and the moment he touched the doorknob, a strange aura swallowed him from the inside. He looked back—Mary was waving to him.
He opened the door.
And darkness surged toward him like waves with no shore.
Everything disappeared.
Only one thing remained—a paper floating in the darkness, illuminated by a pale glow.
He approached it and read in a low voice:
[In an age of snow and chaos… survive, escape, and fight. These are your only choices. Add your mind to them… if it remains.]
[You must, as an Akuma… kill the Abyss of Elden if you want to survive.]
[And beware… the depths of the Abyss.]
[They are not always what they seem.]
Neuvillette opened his eyes suddenly.
An old hut, leaking cold air. Cracks in the walls whispered of death.
And before his eyes… a monster curled around a human corpse, devouring it mercilessly.
The beginning… had begun.