Niran nodded, reaching over to take the boxing gloves the spirit was wearing, without anyone noticing. They shimmered with a faint, oily light in the beam of Dao's flashlight before he hastily stuffed them into his backpack.
Dao sighed, her shoulders slumping as she read from a faded mural depicting a human figure bound to a shadowy, chain-wrapped entity. The paint was cracked, but the meaning was chillingly clear.
"We can't get rid of Kephriel, Raf. The texts say that once cursed, there's no going back. The bond is... permanent. Until death. And maybe after."
The air in the temple, already cold, turned to ice in my lungs. Permanent. The word echoed, drowning out Keph's triumphant snort.
"Told you," he said, leaning against a crumbling stone arch. "You're stuck with me. A package deal. Annoying, but incredibly useful."
"Useful?" Preecha snapped, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "You sealed our mouths shut over a joke and almost flooded Dao's bathroom! What part of that is useful?"
"The part where I keep the real monsters from tearing your souls out through your nostrils,"
Kephriel replied flatly, his glowing eyes narrowing.
"A Nakwi is a nuisance. A Lament... well, you wouldn't be whining about bathroom etiquette if you saw one."
A tense silence fell over us, broken only by the distant drip of water. Keph was a bully, an arrogant, soul-eating liability. But he was also, apparently, our only line of defense in a world that had just gotten terrifyingly bigger.
"Let's just go," I muttered, my voice sounding small. "I've seen enough."
We filed out of the temple in silence, the weight of Dao's discovery pressing down on us. The walk back to the city was nothing like the light-hearted trip out. Every shadow seemed to hold a deeper darkness, every rustle of leaves sounded like a skittering claw.
The next few days of spring holiday were suffocating. My house felt too quiet, too normal. I'd catch myself watching the news about a strange animal attack on the other side of town, and my blood would run cold.
Was it just an animal?
Kephriel had taken to lounging on my ceiling like a brooding, invisible bat, offering unsolicited commentary on my taste in music and my inability to properly make instant noodles.
The only break in the monotony of dread was Niran.
He called me on the third day, his voice a low, excited whisper. "Raf. You need to come over. Now. Don't tell the others."
My stomach clenched. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Just come."
I made an excuse to my parents about a study group and biked over to Niran's house. He led me straight down to his basement, a cluttered space that usually smelled of old laundry and damp concrete. Now, it smelled of ozone and something metallic.
On a workbench, under a single bare lightbulb, sat the Nakwi's boxing gloves.
But they weren't just sitting there.
Niran, his face pale but his eyes blazing with a mix of fear and exhilaration, was wearing them.
"Dude, what are you doing? Take those off!"
I hissed, instinctively taking a step back. Keph had warned us about spirit artifacts, about how they could corrupt, could leech onto a human soul.
"Watch," he said, his voice tight.
He focused on a stack of old newspapers in the corner. He didn't move. He just clenched his fists inside the oversized gloves. A faint *tchi, tchi* sound, like static electricity, emanated from them. Then, with a sound like a suppressed gasp, the entire stack of newspapers flew backward as if hit by an invisible force, scattering pages across the floor.
I stared, my jaw slack. "How...?"
"I figured it out," Niran said, breathing heavily. A fine sheen of sweat was on his forehead.
"It's not about physical strength. It's about... intent. Focus. It pulls the energy right out of you, but it works.I worked."
The implications hit me like a truck. We weren't just helpless victims in this cursed world. We could fight back. We could protect ourselves. Even from...
The basement door creaked open above us.
"Well, well, well," a familiar, chillingly amused voice drifted down. "What do we have here?"
Kephriel descended the stairs without walking, his form flowing like black smoke until he solidified in front of the workbench. He looked from the gloves to Niran's terrified face, and a wide, unnerving grin split his features.
"Playing with things you don't understand, little human?"
he purred, circling Niran.
"Dangerous. Very dangerous. Those will eat you alive from the inside out. You'll be a dried-out husk by morning."
Niran flinched, his bravado vanishing.
Keph stopped and leaned in close. "Luckily for you," he whispered, the grin returning, "I find this *very* interesting. Maybe you're not completely useless after all."
He looked at me, his glowing eyes gleaming with a new, predatory interest.
"Looks like your little 'field trip' was more productive than I thought. The game has just changed, Rafael Sakda. I suggest you and your friends keep up."