Cold drops kept falling through the broken ceiling, mixing with the blood around Rian's knees. The floor beneath him was a swamp of ash, water, and red. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there—minutes, hours, maybe a whole day.
He stared at his hands. They wouldn't stop shaking.
Black veins ran under his skin, faint but pulsing like something alive. Every time his heart beat, the veins lit up for a split second, glowing with a dark shimmer. It hurt—but not like any pain he'd ever known.
It was… hunger.
He looked at Nara's body. Still. Silent. The rain fell on her face, washing away the blood from her cheek.
His stomach turned. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He'd seen people die before, but never like this. Never someone who had smiled at him hours ago. Never someone whose voice was still echoing in his head.
Rian…?
He froze.
The whisper wasn't from outside. It came from somewhere inside him.
He looked around, wild, expecting her to be there. But there was no one. Just the faint hum in his skull, soft and trembling.
Nara? he whispered, his voice breaking.
It's dark… I can't feel anything.
His throat tightened. "I'm here. I'm right here."
Silence.
He pressed a hand to his chest. There—it was faint, like a flicker beneath the ribs. Something warm. Alive.
"You're inside me…"
He didn't understand it, but he could feel her. A small piece of her soul buried deep within his.
And the worst part—It didn't feel wrong.
His heart twisted. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't want to…"
But even as he said it, the warmth inside him pulsed again, and something else answered.
A different voice. Not hers. Deeper. Older. Cruel.
You wanted to live. That's all that matters.
Rian clutched his head. "Get out of my mind."
You opened the door. You called me when you ate her soul. You are the vessel now.
The world spun. His body felt heavy, his pulse pounding in his skull.
I gave you power. And you will feed me.
"I won't—"
Before he could finish, his vision went black.
He woke up to thunder.
The sky outside was still fractured, glowing faintly violet through the cracks. The fire in the streets had burned out, leaving everything drowned in fog and ash.
Rian's body ached all over, but he wasn't weak anymore. His wounds—cuts, bruises, even the gash across his side—were gone. Smooth skin. No scars.
He lifted his shirt, staring.
"What the hell…"
And then he noticed his reflection in a broken shard of glass nearby.
One of his eyes was normal—a dull brown. The other… pure black, with a faint violet glow at the center.
He stepped closer to the shard. "What did you do to me?"
The answer came from the pit of his chest, like a whisper crawling up his spine.
I gave you what you wanted. A second chance. Strength.
"I didn't ask for this!"
But you took it anyway.
He punched the wall. The concrete cracked.
He froze, staring at his fist.
That shouldn't have been possible.
He looked at Nara's body again, then at his hands. The hunger in his veins flared up again—like a burning itch crawling through every muscle.
It whispered to him.
Eat.
He stumbled back, breathing hard. "No."
But the scent—something in the air—was calling him. Faint, metallic, alive.
He turned toward the hallway.
Something moved there.
A shadow staggered into view—a Hollow, thin and twitching, dragging its feet through the debris. Its eyes glowed faintly. Its mouth moved, but no sound came out.
Rian's pulse quickened. He could feel it. The thing's soul—flickering like a candle in the dark.
His stomach tightened. His head throbbed.
He could almost taste it.
"No…" He backed away. "Stay away."
But the creature lurched forward.
He reached for the broken pipe nearby, but before he even grabbed it, his arm moved on its own—black tendrils bursting from his hand, impaling the Hollow through the chest.
It let out a screech, twisting, struggling.
Then something snapped—a soundless pull—and a burst of violet light escaped its body, swirling through the air straight into Rian's chest.
He gasped. His body convulsed.
The pain came first—like electricity flooding his nerves. Then came the rush.
Strength. Energy. Clarity.
Every heartbeat echoed like thunder in his ears.
He could feel everything—the cracks in the floor, the vibrations of the rain, the faint movement of another Hollow outside the building. His senses stretched farther than they should have.
And when it was over, the Hollow's body hit the ground—dry, gray, and empty.
Rian stumbled, grabbing the wall for support.
The whisper returned, calm and pleased.
See? Easy. The more you eat, the stronger you get.
He wanted to vomit. "That's not strength. That's… murder."
Murder? Those things were already dead. You're giving their souls a purpose.
He stared at his shaking hands. His skin looked darker now, the black veins thicker, more visible.
He looked at Nara again, still lying there in the center of the room.
He fell to his knees beside her. "You said you didn't want to die."
The warmth in his chest pulsed, faint.
Then live for me, he said quietly.
For a moment, there was silence. Then the warmth flickered again—like a heartbeat answering his own.
He didn't know if she could hear him. Maybe it was all in his head.
But it didn't matter.
He stood up. His legs didn't feel weak anymore. His fear was still there—but buried under something else.
Resolve.
He walked to the window, looking down at the ruined street below.
Dozens of Hollow wandered aimlessly, like broken puppets, dragging themselves across the wet asphalt.
The old world was gone.
There were no sirens, no soldiers, no gods.
Only monsters.
And one of them was him.
Hours passed. The rain finally stopped.
Rian had taken what he could—some food from a half-collapsed store, a lighter, a few bottles of water. None of it felt real. Every step echoed in the silence.
He reached a crossroad where cars were piled up like corpses, the smell of rot heavy in the air.
He hesitated. His mind whispered keep going, but his body was screaming run.
That's when he heard it.
A faint cry.
He turned sharply, gripping the metal rod tighter.
The sound came from inside a bus half-buried under rubble.
"Hello?" he called out.
No answer. Just another cry—soft, human.
He climbed up the side of the bus, pulling open the warped door.
Inside, a little boy sat between two seats, hugging a stuffed bear. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and tears.
"Hey," Rian said softly. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."
The boy didn't move. His eyes were wide, unfocused.
Rian took a slow step forward.
And then he saw it.
The boy's chest—glowing faintly from inside. His skin rippled. His eyes turned black.
Rian froze.
"Shit—"
The child lunged at him with a shriek, too fast, too strong.
Rian barely dodged, the claws tearing through his jacket.
He swung the rod, hitting the Hollow-child across the face. It stumbled but didn't fall.
He could see it now—the half-formed soul, flickering wildly, unstable.
It wasn't just Hollow. It was turning.
Rian's hand burned. The black veins crawled up his neck.
Eat it.
"No—he's just a kid!"
It's not a kid anymore.
The creature screamed again, rushing him.
He hesitated for a split second too long. It tackled him, pinning him to the ground, its face inches from his.
Its breath was cold. Rotten.
Instinct took over.
The tendrils burst from his chest, stabbing through its torso. The light ripped free, spilling into him.
He gasped again. The power surged through him—sweet, familiar, terrifying.
When it was over, the body crumbled into dust.
Rian lay there for a long time, staring at the roof of the bus.
The whisper in his head was quiet now, almost content.
You see? You can't save them. You can only consume them.
He wanted to scream, but his throat was dry.
The warmth inside him pulsed again, faint and sad.
Nara...
He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
He pushed himself up, stepping out of the bus into the gray morning.
The horizon glowed faintly violet again—the cracks in the sky widening, like a wound that refused to heal.
Maybe the world really was ending.
But Rian wasn't going to die with it.
Not yet.
He touched his chest, feeling the faint hum of power beneath his ribs.
"Soul Feast," he muttered. The words felt heavy, ancient, dangerous.
The whisper chuckled softly.
It suits you.
He took one last look at the ruined street, then started walking.
The city was vast. The world was falling apart.
And somewhere out there, maybe there were others like him.
People who had eaten souls. People who had survived.
Or maybe just monsters wearing human skin.
Either way, he would find them.
Because if this world was going to burn—He needed to know what he had become.
And maybe, just maybe…he could learn to control the hunger before it controlled him.
That night, as he sat beside the remnants of a dying fire, Rian closed his eyes.
For the first time, the whisper didn't speak.
Instead, Nara's voice floated softly through the darkness.
Rian… are you still you?
He opened his eyes. The black one glowed faintly against the firelight.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "But I'll find out."
Above him, thunder rolled through the fractured sky.
And somewhere deep within his chest, the souls of the dead whispered in restless harmony—hungry, waiting.