The last light of dusk slipped between the trees, casting long shadows across the forest path. A chill breeze stirred the leaves, and beneath the boughs stood a lone figure.
John Doe.
His black cloak fluttered faintly as he adjusted the collar with a gloved hand. The hilt of a hidden blade rested against his side, unseen but always ready.
"Incredible…" he murmured, calm and composed, as if speaking to the wind. "With this power, we could reshape the world according to our lord's will. A new order, silent and absolute."
He closed his eyes and exhaled, extending his senses into the woods.
A ripple of mana pulsed outward, subtle, controlled, a vibration beneath the veil of nature's stillness.
Then he sensed it.
"...A carriage?"
In an instant, his form shimmered and vanished.
High above, among the upper branches of a thick, ancient tree, he reappeared, cloaked in shadow. Below, on a narrow trail wrapped in fog, a black carriage rolled slowly forward, its wheels silent against the damp earth.
Within sat two figures.
Hidden beneath a veil of concealment, John Doe watched.
One man wore a pristine white suit adorned with a symbol of status and authority. His voice, when he spoke, was sharp and metallic, like the hiss of a blade being unsheathed.
"So, Draven... any updates on your project?"
Doe narrowed his eyes. That voice carried weight, command.
The other man, cloaked in darker garb, bowed his head.
"Yes, sir. Progress is steady. At our current pace, we'll complete it within the month."
The superior exhaled slowly. His tone turned cold.
"Make sure you don't fail. The higher-ups are watching. They've invested heavily, and their patience isn't limitless."
He leaned forward with a thin, cruel smile.
"But if you succeed, there may be a promotion waiting. Quite the incentive, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes, sir. I won't fail."
"Good. Report any changes immediately. I don't like surprises."
The carriage creaked to a stop. The superior remained inside while Draven stepped down onto the path and adjusted his cloak. The vehicle vanished into the fog behind him.
"Tch," Draven muttered, bitterness in his voice. "He always looks down on me. But once this project succeeds... once I gain the mutation, I'll kill you myself."
Mutation, huh...
Still hidden in the canopy, John Doe listened.
So they're still pushing that experiment... just like what Moriarty encountered. The one they tested on the chimera.
Then he moved.
He dropped from the tree like a shadow falling through mist. His figure emerged from darkness itself, standing calmly behind Draven, shoes silent against the leaves.
A sudden chill prickled the back of Draven's neck. He turned sharply.
"Huh? Who the hell are you?" he said, trying to steady his voice. "Do you know who I am?!"
A figure stepped from the mist, cloaked in black and half-veiled in shadow. His eyes, like polished glass, shimmered faintly in the darkness.
John Doe stepped forward.
Draven bared his teeth. "Talk. Or die."
John Doe didn't speak a word.
Draven snarled. "So you really want to die, huh?! Then dodge this!"
With a sharp motion, he drew his blade, white aura crackling along its edge. In a flash, he unleashed a wide arc of destruction, trees, wind, and rocks cleaved in its path.
But Doe was already gone.
He sidestepped with an elegant tilt of his body. The blade missed by inches.
"Too slow," Doe said flatly. "Is that all you've got?"
Draven's fury boiled over.
"Shut up!"
He charged again, swinging his blade in a relentless flurry, but no matter how he struck, Doe weaved through the gaps like water.
"Impossible..." Draven gasped, breath ragged. "How, how are you dodging everything?! Who are you?!"
Doe's reply was quiet, cold.
"A dead man doesn't need answers."
Draven's rage erupted. Blood-red veins bulged across his skin as his muscles swelled. His eyes turned crimson, his entire body surging with unnatural power.
"You should feel honored!" he roared. "I'm using my ultimate skill against a nobody like you! Now die!"
His transformation complete, he stood larger, faster, his strength multiplied tenfold for two minute. He swung again, white aura blazing, his strikes tearing through trees like paper.
John Doe didn't blink.
He dodged every strike with the same grace, subtle movements, ghostlike steps, effortless precision.
Draven gritted his teeth.
How... how is he still faster? I'm in my berserk state! This is the skill that got me promoted! I can't lose now!
Then Doe's voice broke through the wind.
"You're still slow."
He raised a hand.
"Let me show you what real speed looks like."
His eyes began to glow.
In their depths, a clock's face appeared, its hands ticking backward, then suddenly they stopped. The space around them distorted.
An invisible sphere expanded from Doe, engulfing the clearing.
Time stopped.
Within the sphere, all motion ceased. Falling leaves, swaying branches, drifting dust, all frozen mid-air. Even Draven, suspended mid-lunge, hovered helplessly in place. Only his mind remained conscious.
He stared at Doe in horror.
His eyes... it's his eyes...
A power like that... I never stood a chance. Even before the fight began, the outcome was set.
If I had that power... maybe I wouldn't have lost them. Maybe I wouldn't have become this monster.
This world... it's so unfair...
Doe raised his dagger, now glowing with a black aura like smoke condensed into steel.
"Time's up," he whispered.
With a single step, he vanished, then reappeared behind Draven.
A blink.
A slice.
In the stillness of frozen time, the dagger flashed in arcs of silent death, precise, absolute. It carved through trees, air, and flesh alike.
Then the time-sphere shattered.
Motion resumed.
Leaves fell.
Trees groaned and collapsed.
And Draven stood still for one final second. A single tear slid down his cheek, not from pain or fear, but for everything he'd never reclaim.
Then his body fell apart, cleanly severed, crumbling like ash.
John Doe stood over the ruin, eyes blank.
"…Weak," he murmured, sheathing his blade.
Then, without a sound, he vanished into the trees, his presence swallowed by the dusk, as if he had never been there.
Later that night, at Nox House...
Moonlight bathed the tall windows of a quiet room. Inside, Velmuth Nox sat in a reading chair, flipping through a worn history book.
"So they really erased parts of history… back when dragons still roamed the world, and other races lived openly," Velmuth muttered thoughtfully. "I've searched through countless texts, but it seems those in power buried the truth."
A breeze stirred the curtains.
He didn't look up.
"Hmm. What is it? Do you have something to report?"
John Doe stood silently by the open window, shadows clinging to him like loyal hounds.
Velmuth thought to himself, mildly amused, Why did he come this late and alone? Is he mad I left them to clean up the hideout by themselves? Haha...
Doe bowed slightly. "I apologize, my lord. I have a report. Regarding the leader who was absent from the hideout we raided, I found and eliminated him."
Velmuth raised a brow, mentally blinking. Is he serious? I only told them to clean up… and he actually hunted down the leader too?
He let out a soft sigh. Well, that actually saves me some trouble.
He gave a light nod. "You did a good job. Keep it up."
"Yes, my lord. As long as I can be of help."
With that, Doe bowed once more and vanished into the night.
Velmuth closed the book and leaned back in his chair.
"Bringing them here really was a good decision," he murmured. "They can handle the work in my place… while I finally enjoy living this human life."
A faint smile crossed his lips as the warm bulb beside him glowed softly, casting shifting shadows across the walls, like the fading remnants of silent dreams.