Standing atop a towering spire, I gazed out over the sprawling city bathed in the serene glow of a mid-month sunset. The horizon burned with hues of amber and crimson, their warmth fading into the soft lavender veil of the encroaching twilight. Above, the moon had already begun its silent ascent, a pale sentinel overseeing the dying day as the sun reluctantly dipped toward the edge of the world.
"...Well, looks like it's going to be a busy night," I muttered under my breath, my voice carried away by the cool breeze. Placing a hand on my forehead, I let out a weary sigh, the weight of yet another exhausting overtime shift pressing down on my shoulders. The kind of night where rest was a distant dream and vigilance was the only currency that mattered.
The full moon loomed closer with every passing day, that ominous phase when magical energy swelled and converged to its peak intensity. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, tuning out the distant hum of city life below. Instead, I reached out with senses far beyond the physical, attuning myself to the intricate tapestry of the earth, the sky, and the air.
And then I felt it. A surge of raw power rippling through the atmosphere, like the first tremors of an impending storm. The current was wild and untamed, a primal force that roared and twisted with relentless vigor. It was a flood, a landslide, an unstoppable cascade of energy that bore the ancient fury of nature itself. This immense, majestic flow coursed through the city, its path singular and unmistakable. All of it converged on one location—a decrepit, long-forgotten house nestled in the shadows of an old apartment complex.
The energy was staggering, far stronger than I had anticipated. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before powerful entities of the supernatural were drawn to its epicenter, their arrival heralded by chaos and danger.
The night had just begun, but already, the scales of balance trembled.
I wasted no time. My hand instinctively went to my ear, fingers pressing against the sleek mobile communicator nestled there.
"Senpai, a new entity is forming in the southwest. Location pinpointed at the old apartment complex." My voice was steady, devoid of hesitation or emotion.
Years of dealing with the unknown had trained me to remain calm and to report with the precision of a machine no matter how chaotic the circumstances.
There was a brief pause before a voice crackled to life in my ear—a woman's voice, mature and seasoned, yet carrying the unmistakable weight of exhaustion.
"Good work, Tsugimoto. Sharp observation—you've detected the anomaly even before the rest of us." Though tinged with frustration, her tone held an undeniable elegance, like the hushed melody of a worn-out symphony. It was a voice that demanded respect even in its weariness.
Her response was expected, yet it confirmed what I feared. Judging by the fatigue in her words, it didn't seem like my shift would end any time soon. Suppressing the urge to groan, I shook my head, resigning myself to the long night ahead.
"I'm currently stationed at the central tower," I continued, glancing out at the now-darkening skyline. "Estimated time to engage: ten minutes."
"Good. However, support will be limited," she replied briskly, her tone sharpening with practicality. "This is a residential area. At most, we'll provide a few rounds of ammunition—nothing more."
"Understood." My response was curt, my mind already recalibrating for the lack of backup. Pressing the communicator once more, I ended the call with a soft "beep."
I let my hand fall back to my side, exhaling slowly as I stared down at the sprawling city. The streets below were deceptively quiet, their faint glow masking the turbulence about to erupt.
In the back of my mind, I began running through potential strategies, mentally cataloging my limited resources.
"...What a pain." I muttered to myself, rolling my neck as the stiffness of hours spent on edge began to ease.
Stretching my arms out wide, I began a light warm-up, shaking off the tension in my shoulders and back. A faint series of "crack"s echoed from my joints as I twisted my torso, the satisfying sound blending into the quiet hum of the night.
"Time to start the hunt." I whispered, the words cutting through the stillness like a blade. Drawing in a deep breath, I filled my lungs with the cool night air, then slowly exhaled, expelling every ounce of fatigue and hesitation.
My focus sharpened, the world around me fading into irrelevance as I steeled myself for what was to come.
With a practiced motion, I crouched slightly, muscles coiling like a taut spring. Then, without hesitation, I launched myself from the balcony of the towering spire.
The air tore past me, a feral howl that clawed at my face and hair. The force of the descent pressed against me, the unforgiving chill of the wind biting through my clothes like the edge of a dagger.
Around me, the cityscape transformed into a chaotic blur, the once-familiar outlines of buildings distorted by the raw velocity of my fall.
For an ordinary person, this uncontrolled plunge would be nothing short of a nightmare.
They'd be paralyzed with terror, their body frozen and their mind consumed by the inevitability of the ground rushing up to meet them. Pale-faced, wide-eyed, they'd scream as gravity asserted its dominance.
But for me, it was different.
The roar of the wind wasn't an adversary—it was a companion. The sensation of the fall wasn't terrifying—it was liberating.
This reckless, almost insane leap into the abyss filled me with a strange, intoxicating relief. The exhilaration coursed through me, washing away the monotony of the mundane and leaving only clarity behind.
Yes, deeply relaxing. But...this much is enough.
"Dark wing." I uttered an incantation that roused the magic that had been dormant inside of me.
I spread my arms wide, feeling the night air rush past, and closed my eyes for a brief moment. From deep within my core, I began to channel the vast well of energy known as "Mana," allowing it to flow outward, suffusing every muscle and every fiber of my being.
The raw power thrummed beneath my skin, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
With intense focus, I shaped the mana, molding it to my will. A deep surge of energy radiated from my back, and slowly, as if summoned from the very fabric of the universe, two dark wings began to unfold from my shoulders.
They were not feathers but a translucent, ethereal purple, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. The wings felt heavy yet comforting, like an extension of my own soul, and as they stretched wide, the wind seemed to part before me.
Like a solitary crow in the vastness of the sky, I took flight, my body rising effortlessly into the air. The wings beat powerfully, cutting through the autumn wind with a precision only magic could provide.
The world beneath me blurred as I glided through the air, the once-familiar skyline now painted in hues of crimson and orange from the setting sun.
The chaos below felt distant, inconsequential, as I moved with the grace of a predator, blending seamlessly with the elements around me.
Time seemed to warp as I flew, the distance between me and my target shrinking rapidly. Before I could even register the passing moments, I found myself hovering above the center of the disturbance—the source of the anomaly.
I landed silently, the wings folding against my back as I settled onto the ground. The subtle hum of magic lingered in the air around me, thick and heavy.
"Report: Arrived at the anomaly." My voice was steady as I sent the status update, my words punctuated by the soft rustle of the wings retracting.
"Good. Investigate the area and engage if necessary." The voice of my superior crackled through the communicator, her tone clipped and authoritative, cutting through the air like a razor.
I nodded slightly, though she couldn't see me, and placed my hand firmly on the hilt of my sword. The steel felt cold and reassuring against my grip, a constant reminder of the duty I was sworn to uphold.
I focused my mind, narrowing my attention to the surrounding environment. Every faint rustle of wind, every shift in the ambient energy, became a potential warning. I was alert—always alert—because this was no ordinary assignment.
"Damn it, this place is disgusting." My thoughts were tinged with disgust as I stepped deeper into the derelict apartment complex.
Before me loomed a crumbling monument to neglect: rusted metal, peeling paint, and overflowing piles of trash that stained the air with a sour stench.
The debris cluttered the ground, a chaotic mess of forgotten remnants that seemed to whisper their own dark stories. Every corner was a breeding ground for decay—both physical and spiritual.
It was a perfect haven for the twisted remnants of urban legends, cheap ghost stories, and half-baked myths.
The kind of place where whispered tales of vengeful spirits and restless souls would be passed around in hushed voices, their truths more distorted with every retelling. Most of these were just stories, concoctions spun by those with too much idle time.
But I knew better.
I had seen enough to understand that not all of them were just stories.
Magic is real, after all. And so are the things that lurk in the shadows, those things that shouldn't exist but do.
Demons, curses, spirits—beings forged from the depths of darkness or the remnants of forgotten nightmares. These weren't myths to be dismissed. They were a constant reality, a part of this world's hidden underbelly, and they were dangerous.
For thousands of years, this has been the truth. The Bureau of Security, the organization I served, was the shield between the ordinary world and the chaos that threatened to spill into it.
We hunted, we eradicated, and we buried the evidence. Our job wasn't just to keep people safe—it was to keep them ignorant.
We erased threats before they could take root, before anyone could question the nature of reality itself. If they found out... well, that would be far worse than dealing with a handful of demons.
We couldn't let the world know that the peace they were enjoying was just a facade. And that responsibility fell squarely on my shoulders.
I took a steadying breath, pushing aside the unease that tugged at the edges of my mind. It was time to do what had to be done.
The atmosphere here is suffocating.
Every breath feels like it carries a weight, a thick, choking heaviness that presses against my chest. The place is filthy, covered in layers of grime that seem to have festered over years of neglect.
A foul, musty odor clings to the air, a rancid stench that seems to seep from the very bones of the building. It drips from the cracked ceiling like liquid decay, soaking into the dust-covered tiles below.
If I remember correctly, this place has been abandoned for several years, which explains its current state. Time has not been kind to it, and whatever happened here has left a mark.
Looking around at the scattered debris—the discarded needles, the yellow cigarette butts, and the piles of trash strewn carelessly across the floor—it's easy to piece together who once frequented this place.
The stench of desperation and decay hangs in the air like a thick cloud, and it's enough to make my stomach churn. I don't want to encounter those who linger here, the bottom feeder of an ever-changing world.
They are the kind of people who would rather sell their souls for a fleeting moment of pleasure than face the truth of what they've become.
If I had to choose between facing a haggard human or a demon, the decision would be easy. Demons at least have an unspoken code. They're predictable. They're dangerous, yes, but they also follow certain rules. Humans, though—they don't. They can be just as dangerous, but their unpredictability makes them far worse.
The one thing I'm allowed to kill, however, are demons. Humans are off-limits, no matter how vile they are. It's a rule I hate, but it's one I follow without question.
Shaking off the thought, I keep my focus sharp, pushing deeper into the building. The further I move, the stronger the magical energy becomes.
It's tangible now, pressing in on all sides, a dense and heavy presence that clings to the air. It's dark, twisted, and it has a weight to it that makes it hard to breathe, as if the very fabric of the space is warping under its pressure.
The confined space only makes it worse. The hall feels narrower with each step, the walls seemingly closing in on me. The oppressive atmosphere wraps around my body, squeezing tighter, making it feel as if I'm being crushed from all sides.
My skin prickles, and the air is thick with an energy I can almost taste. It's suffocating.
I'm getting close. I can feel it now—the pull, a tug at the back of my mind. It's not fear that spikes my pulse—not exactly—but a sharp edge of anticipation, as though the world is holding its breath with me. The sensation coils in my gut—a knot of tension. This is it.
I grip the hilt of my sword tightly, the cool steel grounding me as I move toward the last row of rooms in the dark hallway.
The shadows shift in response, bending unnaturally as the dark magical energy seems to seep from the walls themselves, warping the very space around it.
It feels wrong—unnatural. My heart beats louder, and with each step, the pull becomes stronger, a magnetic force that drags me toward the final room.
It is filled with an unsettling aura, a chill that seeps into my bones. The shadows within the room are alive, curling and twisting as if they have a will of their own, pooling together to create a suffocating black mist that seems to pulse in rhythm with the ominous energy.
I know it's here. Whatever has been festering in this place, whatever twisted entity has taken root.
"Sigh, do I really have to go in?" I muttered under my breath, glancing back over my shoulder with an exaggerated weariness.
Even though I'd been through situations like this more times than I cared to count, the chilling feeling of dread still crept up my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as the dark atmosphere of the place seemed to press in from all sides.
I knew, logically, that ghosts weren't going to just materialize out of nowhere.
Magic didn't work that way. But there was something about this place, this presence, that made my stomach twist. It was like the air itself had been soaked in fear, a feeling I couldn't shake no matter how many times I told myself it wasn't real.
A weak chuckle escaped my lips, and I shook my head, trying to dispel the unease that lingered. Steeling myself, I placed a hand on my ear, the familiar weight of the communicator grounding me. It felt almost out of place, trying to talk to someone when I knew they wouldn't hear me.
"We're very close to the target, Senpai. Can you see it through the camera?" I called out, expecting the usual crackle of static in reply.
"..."
Of course, there was no response. Not even a flicker of feedback.
The magical interference in this area was so intense that it had completely severed the communication link. It was frustrating—annoying, even—but it was something I had come to expect.
Since the interference had rendered remote support impossible, I was alone in this. No backup, no quick fixes from the Bureau.
I could retreat, yes. I could just leave and come back with a bigger force, but that would be a mistake.
I had already analyzed that risk. The concentration of mana in this place was too high, and if something in that room were to absorb even more energy, it could break free. And if it did—if it escaped—it would be a disaster.
There was also the matter of the civilians. If they saw anything—anything that wasn't supposed to be here—it would be chaos.
The panic alone would be enough to unleash dangerous, uncontrolled magic. People could hurt themselves, or worse. And that's something I wouldn't let happen—not on my watch.
So, I made my decision. There was no turning back now.
It was time to attack.