Silence lingers between us, stretched taut like the strings of a finely tuned instrument, ready to snap at the slightest pressure.
Elias stands there, watching the shifting, pulsing sphere of darkness in his palm, as if waiting for it to reveal its secrets.
Edan's expression is unreadable—caught somewhere between intrigue and the dawning realisation that whatever he thought he knew is now falling apart.
And me?
I can't shake this feeling, this creeping, growing wrongness in my gut.
Because there's something in Edan's words—something subtle, something almost imperceptible, but now that I've noticed it, it won't leave my mind.
Something that doesn't make sense.
——
I take a slow breath, stepping closer to Edan.
He barely notices, his gaze still locked onto Elias.
So I lower my voice, just enough for him to hear me over the ambient noise of the camp beyond our hidden spot.
"Edan," I murmur, "your theory… something about it is off."
He finally turns to me, eyebrows knitting together. "What do you mean?"
I hesitate, trying to find the words.
"Just now," I say slowly, carefully, "you said that Black Spirits take a host. That they attach to individuals, feeding off them, guiding them."
He nods.
"Yes."
I wet my lips, my pulse picking up.
"But… if that's true—"
I glance at Elias, then back at Edan, my voice dropping even lower.
"Then aren't I his host?"
——
A sharp silence.
Edan blinks, then tilts his head and gives me a confused look.
Elias's smirk falters slightly.
I take another step forward, my heart pounding now.
"When I first became aware of myself," I say, "when I first… existed, I knew that I was supposed to have a Black Spirit. That's just how it was. That's how it's always been for people like me."
Edan stares at me, his mind racing faster than his lips can move.
"But Elias—he's my Black Spirit."
——
The implications hit all at once.
Edan exhales sharply.
"That—" He stops, shaking his head. "That can't be right."
But I press on.
"I was created," I continue, ignoring the tightening in my chest as I force myself to say it aloud. "I didn't have a childhood. I didn't have a past. I just… was."
I swallow.
"And when I was, I knew there was supposed to be a Black Spirit with me. But there wasn't."
I look at Elias.
And he looks back at me, his expression unreadable.
"Until him."
——
A long pause.
Then Elias, voice light but careful—"So you're saying I'm your Black Spirit?"
I nod.
"That's the only thing that makes sense."
——
Edan lets out a slow, measured breath, trying to reassemble his shattered logic.
"But—no, wait—" He rubs his temple, muttering under his breath. "That still doesn't explain this."
He gestures at the sphere of darkness still hovering in Elias's palm.
"If Elias is a Black Spirit," Edan says, forcing the words out like they physically pain him, "then why does he have a Black Spirit of his own?"
——
A cold chill races down my spine.
Because I hadn't thought of that.
Because I don't know the answer.
And neither does Elias.
——
He exhales, rolling his shoulders.
"I mean," he says, "if we're going with the whole 'I'm a Black Spirit' thing, then maybe this is just how it works? Maybe Black Spirits… have Black Spirits?"
Edan stares at him.
Then he stares at me.
Then, exasperated—"That doesn't make any sense."
——
Elias smirks. "Neither do you, Professor."
Edan groans, dragging a hand down his face.
"You can't just keep adding new pieces to this puzzle without any frame of reference!" He throws his arms out, pacing again. "We barely understand one Black Spirit, and now you're telling me there's a hierarchy? A nesting system? What's next? A Black Spirit King? A Black Spirit God?"
Elias hums. "Could be."
——
Edan actually looks pained.
"I hate this conversation."
I bite the inside of my cheek, suppressing a laugh.
Because despite the absolute absurdity of what we're discussing—
It doesn't feel wrong.
If anything, it feels like we're closer to the truth than ever.
——
But then Elias says something that shatters whatever comfort we still had.
"You know," he muses, half-joking, "if we keep going down this rabbit hole, I might just end up being the original Black Spirit."
Silence.
Edan and I both freeze.
And for a moment—
Just for a moment—
I swear I see something flicker behind Elias's eyes.
Something deep.
Something unsettling.
——
Edan, voice slow—"You're joking."
Elias shrugs, tossing the pulsing dark sphere into the air and catching it again like it's just a casual thought.
"Am I?"
——
Something in my chest tightens.
Something in Edan's posture shifts.
And for the first time since this conversation started—
I think we all realise just how deep we've fallen into the unknown.
——
Elias exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, whatever I am—whatever this is—doesn't change the fact that we need to figure it out."
He tosses the sphere one last time before letting it dissipate into mist, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
"And if that means questioning everything we thought we knew…" He grins, glancing at Edan.
"Well, that's what you're here for, isn't it?"
——
Edan sighs, dragging a hand down his face.
"I'm going to need so much more wine."
——
But even as he jokes, I can see it in his eyes.
The way his mind is still turning, analysing, unravelling.
Because we have just opened a door we can never close again.
And what lies beyond it—
Is something none of us are ready for.