The iron door of the archives closed slowly behind him, the heavy roar sounding like a tolling warning bell. As Ethan stepped out into the corridor, the name still circled relentlessly in his mind—Ronan Veil.
His heartbeat grew erratic, and the covenant mark on his chest burned like a branding iron, reminding him that the truth was near—but perilously close.
He entered the dormitory bathroom, splashing icy water on his face, but it could not dispel the visions haunting his mind. Amid the sound of running water, he thought he heard a faint whisper.
—"Ethan…"
He jerked his head up, staring into the mirror at himself. Water dripped down his face, yet the reflection in his eyes seemed deeper, darker than reality.
The whisper came again, clearer this time, pressing against his ear.
—"You saw it, didn't you? That list."—"You know Ronan is still alive."
Ethan's breathing quickened as he stepped back, his spine hitting the cold ceramic wall. He glanced around, but the bathroom was empty, the flickering light casting unsettling shadows.
"Who's there?!" he growled, instinctively reaching for his spiritual weapon.
No reply came, only the whisper seeping into his mind like venom through his veins.
—"They're deceiving you… the Director… your partner… they're hiding everything…"
The voice fractured, like some unspeakable entity seeping through the cracks. Ethan struggled to suppress it, but the buzzing in his ears grew louder, as if invisible hands were tearing at his thoughts.
A cold sensation crept up his spine, and his vision began to blur. In an instant, the bathroom vanished, replaced by an endless black plain. The sky twisted, rifts crisscrossed the horizon, shadows surged like tidal waves.
At the center of that darkness stood a vague silhouette.
Ethan recognized the outline.
"Ronan?" His voice trembled.
The shadow lifted its head. Its eyes held no light, only infinite void. Its lips parted, yet the sounds emitted were not words, but piercing whispers. The whispers merged into countless voices, roaring into Ethan's ears:
—"Betrayal."—"Rifts."—"Bloodline."—"You cannot escape."
Ethan clutched his head in agony, collapsing to his knees on the black ground. From between his fingers flowed not sweat, but an icy black mist. He could hardly tell whether he was still alive, or already plunged into the abyss of nightmares.
Suddenly, a force yanked him back into reality.
He snapped awake, slumped on the bathroom floor, the faucet still running, water gushing loudly. The mark on his chest burned, fine cracks appearing on his skin, as if the black lines were trying to crawl inside him.
"Damn it…" Ethan muttered under his breath, hands trembling as they pressed against his chest.
At that moment, the bathroom door opened. Kyle leaned against the frame, a sardonic smile on his lips, though his eyes revealed a hint of seriousness.
"You look awful. Did you hear something you shouldn't have?"
Ethan's pupils constricted. "You… you know too?"
Kyle stepped closer, lowering his voice. "The whispers of the nightmares. Rookie, welcome to real life in the Bureau. Those voices won't let you go—they dig into the weakest parts of your mind. Either you learn to resist, or they consume you."
Ethan stared at him, heart racing. The visions, the shadow of Ronan, the repeated words in the whispers—they all intertwined into an inescapable vortex.
"Kyle…" His voice was hoarse. "What if… what if the whispers are telling the truth?"
Kyle was silent for a moment, then smirked. "Then it's even worse. Because here, lies and truth are hardly different. The only ones who survive are those who learn to question everything."
Ethan closed his eyes, the covenant mark on his chest still burning. He knew he was not being watched by nightmares for the first time. This time, the shadow seemed truly to reach out, seeking to drag him down.
He could only become certain of one thing—
No matter whether the whispers were true or false, he had to find out Ronan's whereabouts.
Otherwise, his mind would inevitably be devoured by the darkness.