The air in the archives was as heavy as ever, as if each page pressed down with a thousand hidden secrets. When Ethan pushed open the massive iron door, he had steeled himself, yet the blast of cold still made him shiver.
He held tightly to the dossiers he was permitted to consult, though his true target was not on any "authorized" list. Ever since encountering traces of the Shadow Dossiers, a taut string of tension had been stretched in his chest, an unshakable feeling that something was watching him from behind.
The archivist, an expressionless old man, didn't look up. He merely tossed a heavy set of keys onto the desk.
"Thirty minutes. If you can't understand it, best not look."
Ethan silently nodded and stepped between the dust-laden shelves. The dossiers were lined up row after row, some yellowed with age, others with covers so faded they seemed eager to forget their own past.
He found a volume labeled "Missing Cases." The cover had a jagged tear, as if deliberately ripped. Turning to the first page, Ethan held his breath.
A neatly ordered list appeared:
— Agent Mason Gray— Agent Anna Brooke— Agent Sean Thal…
Beneath each name was only a brief sentence: "Went missing during assignment; body not recovered."
Missing.
No casualties, no final reports, just the stark, almost indifferent word: Missing.
Ethan frowned, flipping through more pages, the weight in his chest growing heavier with each turn. The list extended far beyond what he imagined—dozens, even over a hundred names, like shadows swallowed by darkness. More unsettlingly, many were marked as "within probationary period," meaning they were, like him, rookies.
Instinctively, he touched the inked mark on his chest. The covenant seal beneath his skin warmed slightly, as if mocking him: becoming an agent did not guarantee safety—it meant standing on the edge, where one could be erased at any moment.
"What are you looking at?"
A low, hoarse voice suddenly came from behind. Ethan snapped the dossier shut and turned to see his partner, Kyle, leaning against the shelves, a faintly sardonic smirk on his lips.
"You move like a ghost," Ethan whispered.
"Here, learning to move like a ghost is how you survive," Kyle raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the dossier in Ethan's hand. "The missing list? Ha, so you finally found it."
"You already knew?" Ethan's chest tightened.
"Of course. Most rookies don't have the nerve to dig here." Kyle shrugged. "Interesting list, isn't it? Their mission records are incomplete, and a few… their last operations were tied to Nightmare rifts."
Ethan's chest constricted as he recalled the rifts in Phantasmal Town. He stared at Kyle, testing: "You think they were really… missing, or were they—"
"Swallowed? Or taken out by someone?" Kyle finished for him, his smile colder. "In this Bureau, missing never means an accident. Sometimes, the nightmares consume them; sometimes… someone arranges their disappearance."
The air between the shelves felt suffocating, the light bulb sizzling as if ready to die at any moment.
Ethan lowered his gaze to the list again. Suddenly, his eyes froze on a name.
— Agent Ronan Veil
His heart jolted. The familiar surname struck like a blade into his chest. His fingers trembled; he could hardly believe it.
"What's wrong?" Kyle noticed his unusual reaction.
Ethan inhaled deeply, forcing his expression back to neutral as he closed the dossier. "Nothing."
But inside, questions spread like wildfire. Ronan. That was his brother's name.
If it really was the same person—then his brother had also been part of the Bureau? Why had no one ever mentioned this? And why did his name appear on the Missing Agents list?
Ethan felt the inked covenant on his chest burn hotter, as if reminding him: to find the truth, he would have to go even deeper.
Yet, simultaneously, he realized another stark truth—the Bureau itself was no safe haven. It was a labyrinth designed to consume those within.
And for him, there was no turning back.