The unsettling aftermath of the alley incident had cast a subtle pall over Null's return to normalcy, but for Kai and Ashley, it only deepened their resolve. They had seen the raw, terrible power Null wielded, confirming the rumors and Mr. Tanaka's silent dread, but it did nothing to diminish their loyalty. If anything, it underscored the urgency of reaching the Null they knew, the boy trapped beneath the amnesia and the terrifying strength.
Days blurred into a routine of school, followed by relentless, gentle attempts at memory retrieval. Null's house, once a home filled with laughter and arguments, now felt like a quiet museum of his lost life. One afternoon, Kai unearthed a dusty photo album from a forgotten drawer. They sat on the worn sofa, Null perched stiffly on the edge, his current golden yellow hair catching the afternoon light, his cross-shaped eyes scanning the images with no hint of recognition.
"Look, Null," Ashley said, her voice soft, pointing to a faded picture of a beaming family: a man and woman, both with kind faces, a young boy with dark, black hair and bright sky-blue eyes (clearly a younger Null), and a much smaller child, a little boy who looked so much like Null's younger self, being hoisted onto his father's shoulders. "These are your parents, and your little brother, Horuto." She traced the tiny figure. "You used to talk about how much he adored you, how he followed you everywhere." She glanced at Null's striking golden hair. "It's wild how much your hair changed, isn't it? From black to... this."
Kai flipped to another page, showing another photo of the two boys. "And this one! Horuto's first day of school. You told me you insisted on holding his hand all the way, even though he was practically skipping." He pointed to the photo of young Soren, his black hair a stark contrast to his current golden mane, holding the small hand of a smiling Horuto.
Null's gaze fell upon the familiar faces in the photos, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker in his golden-yellow eyes. He didn't recognize the people, yet a fleeting sensation, like the ghostly touch of a breeze laced with both warmth and an unnameable sorrow, brushed against the edges of his fragmented mind. It was gone as quickly as it came, leaving behind the familiar blankness. The image of the little boy, Horuto, lingered for a fraction of a second longer, stirring a deep, aching emptiness in his chest that Null couldn't identify.
"I do not... recall," Null stated, his voice as level and devoid of emotion as ever. He wasn't being defiant; it was simply the truth. The images held no resonance, the stories were just words describing strangers.
Ashley sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It's okay, Null. We'll keep trying." Her voice was tinged with a frustration that she quickly hid behind a determined smile. "Maybe if we go to these places? Like the park where you used to push Horuto on the swings? Or the old arcade he loved?"
They tried. They walked him through the winding, familiar streets of Kaelyn. They took him to the bustling central market, where the scent of street food and the clamor of vendors had once drawn him in. They even revisited the worn steps of the old Clock Tower, the site of his childhood fall and strange recovery. Kai recounted anecdotes he remembered Null telling him from the past, Ashley pointed out landmarks, their voices a continuous, hopeful stream of the past.
Null walked beside them, a perfectly polite, perfectly unreactive presence. He observed, processed, and filed away sensory information, but none of it sparked the emotional fire of recognition. The city felt new, alien, despite their insistence it was his home. The fragment of the Prime Stone in his pocket remained Null's only consistent anchor, a dull warmth against his skin, its silent pulse a counterpoint to the vibrant, confusing memories his friends desperately tried to impress upon him.
Ashley's patience, usually boundless, began to fray. One afternoon, after an hour spent at the local park where they used to play for hours, Null simply stood by the swings, watching children with his unreadable eyes.
"It's just not working, is it?" Ashley's voice cracked, a hint of despair creeping in. "He's just... gone."
Kai put a hand on her shoulder. "He's not gone, Ash. He's just... lost. We have to keep trying. He's in there somewhere." He looked at Null, a deep worry etched on his face. "We don't know what that explosion did to him, or what that... thing he did in the alley means. But he's still Null. He has to be."
As they began their walk home, a subtle shift occurred. The late afternoon sun dipped, casting long, encroaching shadows. Null, walking a few paces ahead, suddenly paused. His golden-yellow eyes, which had been so blank, now seemed to twitch, ever so slightly. He lifted his head, turning it slowly, as if listening to something beyond their perception.
"Null?" Kai called out, noticing the subtle change. "What is it?"
Null's brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing his face for the first time in weeks. His hand instinctively went to the Prime Stone fragment in his pocket. A low, barely audible hum seemed to emanate from the air itself, a sound that Null, with his newly enhanced, unnerving senses, could almost feel vibrating in his bones. It was a faint, yet distinct, pulse of energy. Not the pure, guiding warmth of his Prime Stone fragment, but something... colder. Something that felt like the deepest parts of the alley, yet now spread thin across the city.
He still didn't remember his past, but he felt a new, undeniable present: a subtle, pervasive ripple of shadowy energy, a faint, disquieting signature weaving through the very fabric of Kaelyn, like distant, silent footsteps in the dark. And though he didn't know what it was, an unfamiliar vigilance settled over him, the cold detachment briefly replaced by a nascent, unbidden awareness of something else watching, something else moving in the growing night.
The pervasive ripple of shadow energy that Null sensed continued to thrum beneath the veneer of Kaelyn's mundane nightly sounds. It was a cold, alien hum, distinct from the warmth of the Prime Stone fragment in his pocket, drawing him with an irresistible, unremembered pull. As Kai and Ashley fretted about his vacant stares, Null merely followed the intangible current, his golden-yellow eyes fixed on a destination only he perceived.
The shadow signature led him to the oldest, most forgotten part of Kaelyn: the derelict remains of what was once a grand, if slightly run-down, orphanage on the city's outskirts. Vines choked its crumbling stone walls, windows gaped like empty eyes, and the air hung heavy with neglect. But beneath the decay, Null felt the pulse intensify, a resonant echo of the profound darkness that now clung to him. This place resonated with a deep, aching emptiness within his own fragmented mind.
As Null stepped over the threshold of the orphanage's collapsed entrance, the air around him grew heavy, swirling with unnatural gloom. The subtle shadow ripples solidified, coalescing into swirling tendrils that lashed at the crumbling masonry. His Prime Stone fragment vibrated, reacting to the intensified energy. Then, from the deepest part of the shadow, a figure began to form.
It was humanoid, taller and broader than Null, yet somehow slender, comprised entirely of shifting, inky darkness. Its form was indistinct, constantly in motion, like smoke given skeletal shape. But within the swirling abyss of its head, two points of light glowed with an eerie, familiar luminescence – not the cold white of the Penumbra, nor the harsh red of demonic influence, but a soft, almost mournful sky blue.
Null's detached mind registered the form, but his deeper, buried self reacted. A jolt of agonizing familiarity shot through him, not a memory, but a raw, unyielding pang of grief and terror. The rage that had consumed Smile Carson was a distant echo compared to the overwhelming, suffocating sorrow and desperate need to protect that now choked him. This wasn't just familiar; it was an intrinsic part of his very being, twisted and corrupted.
The shadowy figure lunged first, moving with terrifying speed, its form blurring as it struck. It didn't punch; instead, a solidified spear of shadow lashed out, aimed not to kill, but to impale, to ensnare. Null instinctively dodged, his body moving with a speed he didn't command. He reached out, his own innate shadow power flaring, meeting the figure's attack head-on. Null's shadows were deeper, more absolute, consuming the figure's weaker attacks.
But this was no ordinary opponent. As Null pushed back, the figure shifted, its form briefly coalescing into a more distinct, heartbreaking shape: a small, terrified boy, his black hair disheveled, his sky-blue eyes wide with fear, reaching out a desperate hand. Then, just as quickly, the image distorted, twisting back into the faceless, towering shadow.
This was Null's first echo. Not a clear memory, but a searing, traumatic imprint manifesting before him. The realization, though wordless, fueled his fury. He was fighting a living nightmare of his past, a dark perversion of what he had lost.
Null roared, a sound unlike any his friends had ever heard – a guttural, primal cry of pain and pure, unadulterated fury. The gentle, almost imperceptible shadows that usually clung to him exploded outward. They didn't just expand; they solidified into countless obsidian tendrils, sharp and hungry, tearing through the decaying orphanage. Plaster dust exploded, wood splintered, and the very stone seemed to groan under the pressure of Null's unleashed power.
The dark figure, despite its familiarity, met Null's surge with its own desperate strength. It manifested more shadowy weaponry, swifter movements, trying to ensnare Null, to drain him, perhaps to pull him into its own abyss. This was a fight not just of power, but of wills, of two beings inextricably linked by a devastating past. Null fought with a savage grace, every move instinctual, every flicker of shadow a manifestation of his raw, unchecked rage. He wasn't thinking; he was simply acting, driven by the overwhelming need to overcome this haunting echo.
The building groaned, its ancient foundations cracking under the strain of their titanic clash. Dust and debris filled the air as walls buckled and floorboards shattered. Null's shadow power, boundless and unrefined, slammed against the figure's more limited, if familiar, abilities. Each impact resonated with an ancient sorrow, a forgotten scream.
Finally, Null unleashed a surge unlike anything before. His body became a conduit for pure, unadulterated darkness, and for a terrifying moment, a jagged, obsidian crown, formed of swirling shadow, appeared upon his head, its points sharp and malevolent. He seemed to become the image Smile Carson had seen: a formless void with glowing, furious golden eyes. A maelstrom of shadow erupted from him, a swirling vortex that consumed everything in its path. It didn't just push the figure back; it began to devouritwhole.
The familiar shadow figure shrieked, a sound of pure, unholy agony that seemed to rend the very air. Its sky-blue eyes, even as they dimmed, flashed with a final, desperate plea, a familiar sorrow that tore at the edges of Null's subconscious. The black form twisted, struggled, but Null's power was absolute, merciless. Bit by agonizing bit, the figure was pulled apart, absorbed into the raw, consuming void that Null had become. It was not destroyed, but utterly re-integrated, its corrupted essence feeding Null's own immense shadow power.
The darkness receded slowly, leaving Null standing in the ruined heart of the orphanage. His chest heaved, not from physical exertion, but from the immense emotional and spiritual drain. The Prime Stone fragment in his hand pulsed wildly, its warmth a stark contrast to the lingering cold.
He collapsed to his knees, not from defeat, but from the overwhelming sensory input. The "echo" had broken, but not without leaving a mark. A single, fragmented image flashed in his mind: a small, pleading hand, reaching out in the darkness, and a voice, faint and choked with dust, whispering, "N-nii-san..."
The whisper died, and Null was left with the chilling silence, the pervasive scent of decay, and the profound, unshakeable terror of an unremembered past that was far more monstrous than he could ever have imagined. He had won, but at a cost: the horrifying realization that his past was not merely lost, but deeply, terrifyingly, scarred by the very shadows he now commanded.
The end of chapter 25
See you next time