Jin was mindlessly scrolling through videos on his phone, the blue light reflecting in his tired eyes. Suddenly, a sharp, agonizing pain pierced his chest. "What the heck is happening? Why is my heart hurting so suddenly?" he gasped, clutching his chest. The pain intensified, overwhelming him, and then everything went black.
He awoke to the sound of wind, a constant, whispering roar. He tried to open his eyes, the effort feeling immense, and when he finally succeeded, the scene before him sent a jolt of disorientation through his system. He was lying on the edge of a beach, the sand cold and damp beneath him. Above, a colossal blue moon dominated the sky, casting an eerie, ethereal glow on the surroundings.
"Where. where am I?" he mumbled, his voice raspy and unfamiliar. "Is this some kind of dream? But this is too real to be a dream."
He struggled to sit up, his muscles protesting with a dull ache. He tried to piece together what had happened before he blacked out, but his memories were fragmented and blurry, like looking at a photograph through water. Instinctively, he moved closer to the water's edge, drawn by the moon's hypnotic reflection.
He knelt down, peering at his reflection. What he saw wasn't him. He was taller, leaner, with sharper features. The clothes he wore were alien, crafted from dark, supple leather and adorned with strange, silver buckles. He'd never seen them before in his life. A wave of panic washed over him. This wasn't his body.
Then he saw it – the thing on his face. It was black, obsidian-like, and covered the upper half of his face, obscuring his eyes and nose. It was a mask, but it seemed to be fused to his skin. He recoiled, scrambling backward, a strangled scream escaping his lips. He didn't understand. What was happening to him? Why was he here?
He was spiraling, teetering on the edge of hysteria, when he heard it – a sharp, cracking sound, like a bullet whizzing past his ear. He whirled around, his heart pounding in his chest. A few yards away, a man in flowing white robes lay sprawled on the sand. He looked like a guard, or perhaps a member of some ancient order. And then, another figure emerged from the shadows.
This figure also wore white robes, but the most striking thing about him was the mask. It was identical to the one Jin had seen in his reflection – a featureless, black void that covered the top half of his face. The two men faced each other in a tense standoff.
Before Jin could even process what he was seeing, the black-masked man lunged. He moved with unnatural speed and grace, a blur of white and black. He seized the white-robed guard, his grip like iron. In the next instant, the guard's body seemed to deflate, his skin turning ashen, his eyes vacant. All the color, all the life, had been drained from him.
"What the." Jin stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
The black-masked man casually tossed the lifeless body aside. The motion was brutal, dismissive. Then, he turned his attention to Jin. In a blink, he was upon him, his masked face inches from Jin's. He didn't even have a second to react, to understand what was happening, to comprehend why he was here in the first place. All that filled his mind was a single, chilling thought: Is this how my life is going to end?
Suddenly, something shifted. A necklace he hadn't noticed before, a simple leather cord with a clear, crystal pendant, began to glow. The crystal pulsed with an inner light, growing brighter and brighter, until it seemed on the verge of shattering. The air around them crackled with energy.
The black-masked man recoiled, his movements becoming jerky and hesitant. The predator had become the prey. He threw Jin away from him, scrambling backward, his masked face betraying a flicker of something akin to fear. Jin, disoriented and terrified, could only stare. He could feel an intense, almost unbearable sense of malice radiating from the masked man, a killing intent so potent it felt like a physical force.
Then, everything went silent. The light from the crystal faded, leaving Jin trembling and confused on the beach. The black-masked man vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only the body of the guard and the unsettling silence.
Some time later, Jin was lying on a makeshift bed inside a tent, his head swimming. A man in pristine white robes knelt beside him, examining him with a critical eye.
"Sir," a voice said from behind the man, "this guy's mana is practically nonexistent. It's like that of a newborn child. I don't know how he's even alive with such low mana."
The man in white robes rose to his feet, his face grim. "I don't care how he's alive," he said, his voice sharp and authoritative. "What I care about is who is the one who killed the Reaper."
Jin followed his gaze. Lying on a nearby table was the body of the black-masked man. He had been sliced cleanly in half, the two halves separated with surgical precision. But there was no sign of a weapon, no trace of magic, no indication of how such a feat could have been accomplished. The black mask was removed from his face, and there stood the true features of the man – a tough, callous face wrinkle-lined by years of hard experience.
"To think there was a Reaper in Holy Force is truly threatening," the man continued, his voice laced with concern. "Now we can't even differentiate between friend and foe. But the more important thing right now is who is this guy and did he really kill a Reaper with sheer strength?" He glanced back at Jin, his gaze piercing and analytical. "He's the key to understanding what's happening here."