Morning settled over the Bureau, carrying the scent of coffee and old paper. Ethan sat on a wooden chair in the archives, fingers clenching a yellowed dossier so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
The sound of his mother's crying from last night still echoed in his mind; he had barely slept. But what truly unsettled him was the name on the file—Ryan Carter.
He had been his friend since training camp, a comrade through every exercise, encouraging each other, even making a pact: "No matter how dangerous the mission, we'll come back alive together."
Yet on the dossier's cover, one cold word was written:
—Deceased.
Ethan's breath quickened, his throat tightening. He refused to believe it, even suspecting the records had been tampered with. Yet an icy fear slowly filled his chest.
He opened the file. Inside lay a detailed "death report" for Ryan:
During a "Phantom Domain Investigation," Ryan went missing for three days and was subsequently declared dead. The funeral had been brief and low-profile, and the grave was located on the hill behind the Bureau.
Each word struck his heart like a hammer.
"No… it's false. It has to be false…" Ethan whispered, though an aching emptiness spread deep within him.
Without hesitation, he rose and left the archives, striding rapidly down the corridor. His footsteps echoed through the empty hall, growing ever more urgent.
The cemetery behind the Bureau was shrouded in a thin mist. Tombstones stood in neat rows, gray stone glistening with dew, silent like sleeping soldiers. Wind rustled the bare branches, whispering across the graves.
Ethan's heart pounded faster and faster.
Finally, he saw the tombstone.
It was unremarkable, an ordinary gray stone, bearing a familiar name: Ryan Carter.
Ethan froze. In that moment, all sounds seemed to fade, leaving only the thrum of his heartbeat and ringing in his ears.
"Ryan…" he whispered, his voice breaking.
Memories flooded him—training sessions drenched in sweat yet smiling; the hot water bottle he had passed him during night patrols; and his determined back during their final mission.
Now, all of it was frozen upon the cold stone.
Ethan knelt, pressing his palm against the rough surface of the tombstone. The chill seeped through, cold enough to shake his bones.
"How could you die?" His voice was low, filled with a tearing pain.
Suddenly, the wind whipped up, stirring the mist across the cemetery. Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan caught a flicker of shadow behind the tombstone.
He snapped his head up, but there was only emptiness. Yet at that moment, a faint, inky mark appeared on the tombstone, resembling the covenant mark burning on his chest.
A whisper arose again:
—"He is not dead, but erased."—"Memories lie, records lie."—"What you see is not necessarily the truth."
Ethan's pupils constricted, a chill crawling down his spine.
If Ryan had not truly died, but had been "erased"… then the dossier, the funeral, even this tombstone, were merely a facade concealing the truth.
He stared at the name on the stone, the burning mark on his chest intensifying, as if reminding him: some hidden truth lay here.
The wind ceased. The cemetery returned to its deathly silence.
Ethan rose slowly, his gaze no longer solely filled with sorrow, but now mixed with doubt and anger.
"Ryan… if you're still alive, I will find you."
His voice was low, yet unshakably resolute.
The mist swirled among the tombstones, as if responding to his vow. Yet no one knew what awaited him beyond that promise.