A floating city—
This place was called "Evernight City."
It was a marvel of engineering and ingenuity, an artificial construct created by the greatest minds of humanity from across the globe. Often celebrated as the "Greatest Miracle of Humanity," it stood as a beacon of progress, even amidst a world that seemed to crumble beneath its own weight.
Above, a pale white moon hung high, casting a silvery sheen over the endless sea surrounding the city. The waters shimmered with a cold light, rippling with reflections of the towering spires that defined Evernight's skyline.
The city itself was a breathtaking fusion of glass and metal. Structures stretching impossibly high into the sky. Buildings were adorned with intricate patterns of neon lights, casting a kaleidoscope of colors into the night. Glass windows of such buildings and structures reflected the moon's glow, but behind those panes, lights flickered a sign of life within this seemingly otherworldly construct.
In the air, drones buzzed like fireflies, traced by glowing trails of light, ensuring the city's operations ran smoothly.
In the central plaza, a massive holographic display illuminated the square, projecting news, advertisements, and vibrant images of popular models. Above it, the "Eclipse Tower" stood as Evernight's crown jewel, which was a spiraling structure of translucent black glass and glowing blue circuitry.
But amidst the technological splendor, the city carried an air of quiet unease. It was a paradise for some, a cage for others, and a mystery to all.
That was the reality of the Shadowspire called Evernight City.
"...Hah... hah... ack!"
Labored pants and pained groans echoed through the empty streets, accompanied by the frantic sound of stumbling footsteps.
It was already past midnight. Therefore, it was early hours of the morning.
At this time, even the most devoted lovers of nightlife would have retreated to their beds. No one should have been awake.
No one should have been.
And yet—
An average-looking man sprinted frantically through the deserted streets of Evernight City, clutching his side with trembling fingers.
Blood stained his hand, warm and wet. It wasn't someone else's blood.
It was his own.
He had been wounded.
His side had been stabbed, and his hand pressed desperately against the wound to stem the rapid flow. From his frantic flight and chaotic breathing, it was clear that he was being hunted.
Why was he being hunted? Why must he suffer this great misfortune?
His thoughts were a chaotic swirl of fear and desperation as he ran toward the nearest Counter-Skill Branch.
Counter-Skill was the city's newly established, round-the-clock police force, renowned for their technological prowess and rapid response. Earlier, he had tried to call them, but his smartphone had inexplicably died. He remembered having some battery left, yet his smartphone still died, especially in a critical moment where his survival was uncertain.
Perhaps there was some technological issue, his smartphone had died before it ran out of battery.
From the bottom of his heart, the fleeing man cursed the Development Team responsible for his smartphone's brand production.
At this point, running to the closest branch was his only option. If he was lucky, he might encounter a patrolling Counterforce officer on the way.
It was the logical thing to do, the only plausible thing to do, for someone whose life was in danger.
But—
"Ughhhh!!"
The man's body suddenly convulsed, and he doubled over, vomiting a thick mouthful of blood onto the cold, pristine pavement.
His trembling hands instinctively rose to his face, but they couldn't stop the warm streams of blood trickling from his eyes, blurring his vision and deepening his terror.
What was happening to me? The man thought in desperation.
On an artificial island built on the unshakable foundation of science and technology, the word "occult" had never once crossed his thoughts. This was a place of logic, where mysteries were dismantled and dissected under the relentless scrutiny of reason.
Yet now, nothing made sense.
Stabbed, bruised, and lost, he felt as though he had been transported to a foreign world where the language, the rules, and the very landscape were incomprehensible and hostile.
Everything familiar had turned alien. And whatever hunted him was drawing closer.
"Ack! D-Damnit...!"
The man cursed under his breath, summoning every ounce of strength he had left as he staggered to his feet. Gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his side, he forced his legs to move and stumbled toward a nearby alleyway.
As he ran, his foot struck a forgotten bucket, sending it clattering loudly across the ground. The sound echoed through the narrow passage, startling a black cat that hissed before darting away into the shadows.
With a desperate will to survive, the man ran and ran, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into his frantic sprint. His body arched all over and screamed in protest, his muscles burning and his lungs gasping for air, but he pressed on, driven by sheer adrenaline.
However, adrenaline could only carry a person so far.
The surge of energy that had fueled his flight began to wane, and his steps grew sluggish. His vision blurred further, and his legs felt like lead.
Eventually, his body could take no more. He had reached his limit.
His body gave out, forcing him to stop in a back alley.
No, deeper than that. It was the back of the back alleys, an isolated space where even the neon lights of Evernight City's skyline seemed unable to reach.
He collapsed into what appeared to be a rectangular clearing between the surrounding buildings. One of the structures must have been demolished, leaving behind an open space that might have once been used for street basketball.
It was eerily silent, save for his own ragged breaths.
Have I... finally... lost him?
The man nervously glanced back where he came.
He had managed to create some distance between himself and the mysterious attacker, though he wasn't sure how long it would last. His heart pounded as he clung to the fragile hope that he might survive to see another day.
However, even if the attacker decided to retreat, his fate was far from secure. Without medical help, his condition was a death sentence!
The man knew this. He knew his own body's limits all too well!
If he attempted to reach a hospital, he would likely collapse somewhere along the way, or his wounds would claim his life before he ever saw the sterile walls of an emergency room!
No matter which way he looked at it, he would die either way.
And that terrified him.
On this day, his luck, along with the carefree existence he had taken for granted, had finally run out.
Tap! Tap!
As if mocking his desperate attempts to survive, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty alley.
For a split second, the man's heart seemed to stop, and he forgot how to breathe.
Burdened by the weight of his own despair, he hesitantly turned around.
The space behind him had been empty just moments before. Nobody should have been there.
Nobody should have been in this alley.
Yet, an unknown black silhouette had occupied that vacant space.
The mysterious assailant, who had been hunting him down like a demon, now stood before him.
He did not move. He simply stared at him, menacingly.
Surprisingly, the figure appeared to be a young man.
He looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, resembling an ordinary high school student, which he actually was. The summer uniform he wore confirmed that. Aside from his neatly combed green hair, nothing about him stood out. No matter how you sliced the cake, he looked like a completely ordinary teenage boy.
However, the blood strained knife he was holding in one hand completely scattered that innocent image.
A knife.
A piece of equipment supposed to be used for cooking had now transformed into a weapon of malice. But what terrified the man more than the knife itself was the boy's smile.
It was a cold, but creepy elongated smile that stretched unnaturally, reaching the far edges of his face. It was a ridiculous smile that held no warmth.
It felt wrong, out of place, as though it didn't belong on the boy's face at all.
How could a child wear such an absurd smile?
Not only was the smile creepy and unnatural, but his posture was equally unsettling.
The hand holding the knife was twisted at an odd angle, as if the blade might slip from his grasp at any moment. Hollow eyes which resembled a bottomless void. His head tilted at a disturbing angle, almost as if it might snap from the strain.
The whole scene was disturbingly disjointed, as if it were some twisted mockery of innocence.
It was as if the ordinary teenage boy before him was possessed.
Step—!
The green-haired boy took a single step forward.
Snapping out of his daze, the man was consumed by a surge of fear. Like a wounded animal, he instinctively shouted:
"S-Stay back! Don't come any closer! What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you hunting me like this? Don't you know that if you kill me, there will be evidence, and Counter-Skill will track you down?!"
It was a desperate measure.
The man didn't understand why the boy was after him, but he was certain of one thing: he wouldn't want to be hunted down by Counter-Skill, especially not at such a young age.
He heard rumours about what happened to those mercilessly chased by Counter-Skill, and to be honest, he hadn't heard anything nice.
Surely, the boy in front of him wasn't an insane individual who had abandoned all form of reasoning.
However, contrary to the man's expectations, the teenage boy continued to move forward, taking more and more steps.
With that same unsettling smile, the boy approached with the sharp knife held in his hand, its blade reflecting the moon light of the Goddess.
The man's heart pounded in his chest as his eyes locked onto the approaching figure. His desperate words had entered one ear and exited the other.
"S-Stop! P-Please! I can give you anything you want! It's money you want, right?
No... Stop that!"
The man's voice trembled, but the boy didn't flinch, didn't even blink.
His smile only grew, the corners of his lips stretching even further in that unnatural way, as if his face might split in two.
With every step the boy took, the man could feel the air grow heavier, suffocating him, pushing down on his chest as though it were a physical weight.
He backed up, but there was nowhere to go.
The alley was a dead end.
The shadows seemed to close in, swallowing the narrow space until it felt like there was no escape.
He lifted his hands instinctively, as if to ward off the boy's advance, but it was a futile attempt. The boy's expression never changed, still locked in that creepy, mocking smile.
His dark, hollow eyes pierced through the man, as though he could see straight into his soul.
The man's mind raced. What do I do?
He had no weapons, no means of defense. Despite the fact that he was older than the boy, he was at a disadvantage. A vital wound already bled freely, weakening him with every passing second. His strength was draining, and in this moment, he was entirely at the boy's mercy. The boy only had to lift the knife, then stab downwards, and it would be over.
Finally, his thoughts drifted back to his family at home.
If I die today, what will happen to them?
It was completely unreasonable and cruel. There was no meaning in this violence. He wasn't being hunted with reason, but some sort of cruel amusement or twisted need for fulfillment.
Realizing this truth about his situation, the man finally understood why this artificial island, Shadowspire, was called Evernight City.
A city of dreams and a city of despair.
They were both sides of the same coin.
Without mercy, the knife was raised high and brought down at an angle. Only the sound of a scream and the wet "thunk" of the blade sinking into flesh followed.