The rain pelted down on the empty streets, its rhythm like a heartbeat in the quiet darkness. Kazuki Takahiro trudged forward, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his eyes distant as he watched the droplets scatter across the pavement. It had been one of those days—the kind where silence was louder than any noise, and all he could hear were his own thoughts.

He stopped under a flickering streetlamp and sighed, his breath turning into mist. Just another day in the life of Kazuki Takahiro, invisible to the world.

Suddenly, a voice—a whisper, as if carried on the wind—slid into his ears, faint yet unmistakable.

"Do you wish... to become something greater?"

Kazuki froze, glancing around, but there was no one there. Just the rain, the darkness, and his own shadow stretching beneath the streetlamp. He frowned, thinking maybe he had imagined it.

"Do you... yearn for power?" The voice was more distinct this time, coaxing him, tempting him.

Kazuki's heart pounded. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice barely louder than a murmur.

No response came. Just silence—and then, a shiver ran through him, something dark and powerful welling up from the ground beneath his feet. The air felt thicker, like it was pressing against him, pulling him downward.

He staggered back, eyes wide. "What... What's happening?"

Before he could take another step, the ground opened beneath him, swallowing him whole. Darkness enveloped him, suffocating, endless.

Kazuki's eyes snapped open, but it wasn't to the familiar, dreary landscape of his city. He was somewhere else—a vast, barren plain stretched out before him, illuminated by a sky of swirling dark clouds and a blood-red moon. He staggered to his feet, disoriented, his mind racing.

"Where... where am I?"

Just then, he noticed a figure standing in the distance, draped in black armor, a cloak billowing around them like a shadow. The figure approached, each step silent yet heavy with a sense of authority.

"You are... Kazuki Takahiro," the figure stated, their voice resonating with a strange, echoing timbre.

Kazuki felt a chill down his spine. "Who are you?"

The figure stopped a few feet away, their face obscured beneath a hood. "I am Seraphine, the Harbinger of Shadows. And you, Kazuki, have been chosen."

"Chosen?" He swallowed, eyes narrowing. "Chosen for what?"

Seraphine tilted her head, a faint smile playing across her lips. "To survive... or to perish. This world does not welcome the weak."

Kazuki clenched his fists, the weight of her words settling on him. "And what if I refuse? If I want to go back?"

Her laughter was soft, almost pitying. "There is no 'back,' only forward." She lifted her hand, and shadows began to twist and writhe around it, taking the form of a small creature, its eyes gleaming red.

"You were summoned because something in you yearned for more. A desire for purpose... for strength. Isn't that right?"

Kazuki's breath hitched, the memories of countless lonely nights surfacing. The thought of being seen, of being someone who mattered—it was a temptation he couldn't deny, even as fear coiled in his chest.

He took a shaky step back. "And if I don't survive this… world?"

"Then you join the countless souls who have failed before you," Seraphine said, her voice unfeeling. "But should you succeed... you will possess powers beyond your understanding."

Kazuki's hand curled into a fist. Powers… beyond my understanding.

"How do I survive?" he asked, his voice firmer than he felt.

She extended her hand, the shadow creature dissolving back into tendrils of darkness. "You will learn to wield the gift I have given you, should you prove yourself worthy. Take hold of this chance… if you dare."

Kazuki hesitated, but he reached forward, clasping her hand.

The moment he did, agony exploded in his chest. He gasped, falling to his knees as a searing pain radiated from his core, spreading out to his limbs, his bones feeling like they were on fire.

Through the haze of pain, he heard her voice, calm and steady. "From this moment on, you are bound to the Wraithblade. You are neither here nor there, neither living nor dead. But remember, every swing of your blade comes at a cost."

The pain subsided, leaving him breathless, his entire body trembling. He looked down at his hands, now glowing faintly with a ghostly light. "What… what did you do to me?"

"I awakened your potential," Seraphine replied, watching him with a calculating gaze. "You have the power to wield spectral weapons, to become intangible, to step between this world and the next."

Kazuki stared at his hands, the glow fading. "But… what did you mean, a 'cost'?"

Seraphine's gaze was cold. "Each use drains your vitality. Too much, and you will become what you wield—a wraith, a specter bound to this world."

Kazuki's heart pounded, a mixture of awe and dread filling him. "So I'm… some kind of half-ghost?"

"You are the Wraithblade," Seraphine replied. "A weapon against the darkness of this world… if you are strong enough."

Kazuki took a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. He wasn't sure he trusted her, but if this was his only chance…

He looked up, meeting her gaze. "So, where do I begin?"

Seraphine's lips curved into a smile, shadowed and mysterious. "Follow, if you dare."

Kazuki followed her through the barren plains, each step feeling heavier, his mind spinning with questions. As they reached the edge of a cliff overlooking a dense forest cloaked in darkness, Seraphine stopped.

"Beyond this forest lies the first of your trials," she said. "Inside, you will find allies... and enemies. But heed my warning: shadows watch your every move. They hunger for the unworthy."

Kazuki glanced at her, steeling himself. "And if I face these shadows... I'll survive?"

"Perhaps." Her tone was indifferent, like a teacher sending a student to a lesson. "The shadows are relentless. Your blade will be your only companion. Remember, every slash, every step drains you. Do not overestimate your endurance."

Kazuki swallowed. "Thanks for the pep talk."

A hint of amusement flickered in her eyes. "Courage will get you far here, Kazuki. But power—true, tempered power—will be your salvation."

Taking a deep breath, Kazuki looked at the forest, shadows writhing among the trees. He could feel the weight of the Wraithblade within him, like a heartbeat under his skin, urging him forward.

"Alright, then," he muttered, stepping forward. "Let's see what I'm made of."