「Chapter 1」
The alarm buzzed.
Kaito jerked awake, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded like he'd been running for hours. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was—the shadows of last night's shrine still clawed at his memory, whispering in that impossible voice.
Then the ceiling came into focus. His room. His posters. His alarm clock, flashing red numbers.
Ordinary. Too ordinary.
But when he sat up, his shirt clung to him, damp and sticky. Across his chest, faint black markings flickered beneath the skin—like embers trying to burn their way out. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and the glow was gone.
> "…A dream?"
His voice cracked, uncertain. Yet deep inside, he knew it wasn't. The ache in his ribs was too real.
He staggered through his morning routine, trying to convince himself everything was fine. But the world outside disagreed.
The streets hummed with traffic, but something felt off. The people around him looked blurred at the edges, as though painted in watercolors that hadn't dried. A businessman's reflection in a shop window didn't move the same way he did—half a second too slow. A dog barked at nothing, tail stiff, eyes fixed on Kaito as he walked past.
And then the whispers began.
Faint, scattered, like fragments of old radio static:
> "…contractor…"
"…vessel…"
"…found you…"
He clutched his ears, but no one else reacted. The crowd flowed around him as if he didn't exist.
At school, things grew worse. During math class, his pencil snapped in half without warning, as if crushed by unseen fingers. When he reached down to pick it up, his eyes locked on a shape under the desk—a hand. Pale, clawed, writhing like smoke.
He froze. His breath caught.
When he blinked, it was gone.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. He avoided questions, forced a smile when friends called his name. Yet the whispers lingered, wrapping around him like invisible chains.
By the time he stepped out of school gates, dusk had already fallen. Neon bled across the skyline, and the city seemed to breathe heavier than usual.
That's when he noticed it.
A figure watching him from across the street.
The man wore black robes that didn't belong in this century, etched with silver lines that shimmered faintly. His eyes glowed faint blue, unblinking, sharp as blades. And in his hand—something like a prayer bead, humming with power.
Kaito's throat went dry. He didn't know why, but every instinct screamed danger.
The man raised the beads. The air cracked. Shadows writhed along the pavement like snakes.
> "Vessel of the Forbidden… you should not exist in this world."
The voice was calm. Cold. Final.
Kaito stumbled back, panic flooding his veins. His mouth opened but no words came. The ground beneath him rippled, dark tendrils snaking upward, wrapping around his ankles.
And then—
The mark on his chest burned alive.
Flames erupted in his vision, black and crimson. His body convulsed as the voice from last night returned, curling through his skull like poisoned silk.
> "Another hunt. Another trial. Contractor—fight."
Kaito screamed. His right arm ignited, wrapped in a chain of glowing sigils. Power surged, violent and alien, tearing the shadows apart in one sweep.
When the smoke cleared, the man in black was still standing. Watching. Silent.
But his eyes narrowed.
For the first time, Kaito saw it—fear