"It seems you humans have become bold. You don't even fare us anymore," it continued, pacing slowly, its elongated limbs bending unnaturally as it moved. "But I won't blame you. It must be nonsense the other ones have been feeding you."
The other ones?
Under normal circumstances, that phrase alone would have sparked a storm of questions in Conor's mind. Who were they? What nonsense? What was this monster talking about? But Conor was not thinking straight. His thoughts were trapped, circling around one single point—Hans.
"I now see why they kept us captive," the demon continued.
For the first time, it looked down at its own hands. It clenched them tightly, the loose skin stretching over elongated fingers. It clenched them so hard that black blood began to leak out, thick and unnatural, dripping slowly to the ground.
"But I'm sure even they knew it was all just a matter of time. Sooner or later we were going to be back. And I guess that time has come."
It lifted its head and looked directly at Conor.
Those dark, cold eyes locked onto him, and the weight of that gaze sent a violent shiver down his spine. Conor felt small under it, exposed, as though every weakness, every fear inside him had been laid bare. The air around them seemed heavier now, charged with something suffocating.
Conor's heart pounded against his ribs so violently he was sure the creature could hear it. His hands trembled against the ground where he sat, yet he forced himself not to look away. If he looked away, it would mean he had accepted it. Accepted that Hans was gone. Accepted that the thing standing before him was real.
The creature tilted its head slightly, studying him the way a predator studies wounded prey.
And in that moment, Conor understood something clearly,whatever was happening, whatever this creature meant by being back, whatever "the other ones" had done, none of it was random.He had just come face to face with something that was never meant to walk openly among humans.And now, it was no longer hiding.
"You asked where your human friend is?" the creature said, its voice no longer wild with mockery but steady, layered, and slightly archaic, as though it carried the weight of years long forgotten. "You must either be very foolish… or painfully ignorant to ask such a question. Then again, judging from the memories he held of you, I cannot say I ever witnessed any remarkable brilliance in your human mind."
A faint, crooked smile pulled at its loose face.
Conor swallowed. "What do you mean?" he asked, though the truth was already pressing against his chest, suffocating him. He could feel it. With just a few words from the monster before him, everything was beginning to align in the worst possible way.
"There was only one thing about you humans that ever intrigued me," the creature continued, clasping its elongated fingers together behind its back as though it were some old scholar addressing a classroom.
"You possessed information about us long before we returned to this realm. Knowledge of our strength… and knowledge of our weaknesses. How you came to learn such things, I do not know. Perhaps it was the doing of the other ones. Perhaps they fed you everything you needed to prepare. And yet… when the moment came, you still fail to use that knowledge."
Conor's thoughts raced. The other ones. Again. Who were they? Why did this creature keep referring to them as if they were central to everything? How were they connected to Earth? To humanity? To this?
"I told you moments ago that I am a skin walker," the beast said, pausing deliberately so the words could sink in. "To you, what does that mean?"
Conor opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Allow me to explain it in a way even you might understand," the creature continued, its tone calm but edged with quiet superiority. "Perhaps a story will help."
It took a slow step forward, its movements unsettling yet controlled.
"Long ago, before your world knew technology… before cities of steel and glass pierced the skies… humanity lived under magic. Magic ruled the land, and every human carried it in some measure. Among the tribes of that age, there were healers and spirit-walkers—people who understood balance, the unseen, and the forces that moved between worlds."
Its gaze shifted slightly, distant for a brief moment, as if recalling something personal.
"In that time, another threat rose against Earth. Something magic alone could not destroy. No mage alive was strong enough to end it. The world stood on the brink of collapse. And so, alongside the other ones, a brave human came forward with a desperate idea. Through forbidden rituals—through dark magic—they would strike a bargain with an ancient entity. In exchange for power, he would become something more than human."
The creature's fingers curled slowly.
"He was granted the ability to shapeshift. To take other forms. To copy appearance… even abilities. He could become what humanity needed him to be in order to fight what they could not. But the price was clear. Black magic never gives without taking. He would lose his humanity—his human form, his place among ordinary men. For the sake of Earth… for the sake of the greater good… he accepted. He sold his humanity for the power required to protect those he loved."
The creature's expression darkened.
"It did not begin as it is now. Skin walkers were never meant to be monsters. We were meant to be protectors. We were the shield that stood between Earth and destruction. And we succeeded. Alongside the other ones, we saved this world from its doom."Its voice hardened.
"And how were we repaid?"
The loose muscles along its frame trembled slightly.
"They turned on us. Instead of honoring the sacrifice, they told the world we were dangerous. They painted us as abominations. They divided the very people we had protected and turned them against us. That was our reward. Betrayal. Fear. Exile."
It looked down at its hands and clenched them tightly. Dark blood began to seep between its fingers, dripping slowly to the ground.
"I see now why they kept us captive," it muttered. "Even they knew it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, we would return. And now… that time has come."
Its cold eyes lifted back to Conor.
"