People fear many things. The dark. Insects. Animals. The depths of the ocean. Death, hunger, sickness. But in this age, the thing people feared most could be summed up in a single word: Creatures.
Dusk was waiting for them at five in the morning.
He was standing in the corridor, arms at his sides, eyes on the door. His shadow sat strangely on the floor — off at an angle, as if it had nothing to do with the direction of the light, crooked and faintly trembling. Even in the pale light of early morning that strangeness didn't go away. Eren glanced at the cuckoo clock in the corridor. It had just struck five.
When Dusk saw them coming he gave a slight smirk.
"Welcome, rookies. In a moment you'll be taking one of the most important steps toward becoming a true hunter — today we're going to get your body producing magical energy. Follow me."
They fell in behind him. After a short walk they stopped in front of a massive stone doorframe — but there was no door. Dusk placed his hand on the stone and the blocks slid apart to either side, forming a passage. The tower had a hidden section.
Eren hadn't known about it. Walking the corridor, he'd assumed there wouldn't be much space between the two rooms — he never could have guessed there was an enormous chamber in between.
Orin's eyebrows went up. Raphael was about to say something — Kayra nudged him with an elbow.
They passed through the passage into a short corridor, then came out into a room.
The room was large.
The ceiling was high, the walls were stone, there was light but no torches or lamps — where the light came from was impossible to say. Everywhere and nowhere. In the center stood an enormous altar. Roughly eight meters square, flush with the floor, carved into it rather than sitting above it. Its interior was hollow — deep, black, flat.
Dusk stopped. He waited at the altar's edge.
"Get inside. Lie down. And do not — under any circumstances — move."
Eren looked at the altar. It was empty, cold, stone. When he lay down the cold pressed against his back.
"When can we get out?" Raphael asked.
"When I tell you."
Raphael wanted to ask something else. He didn't get the chance.
He turned and climbed into the altar. He lay down — on his back, the stone cold against him. The ceiling was visible above, high and silent.
Dusk began to speak.
The language was unfamiliar. Something old — heavy, rhythmic, every syllable hanging suspended in the air. Eren didn't understand it, but he felt something. A vibration had started in his chest, very faint, deep down.
Then came the wetness.
No one saw where it came from. It simply flowed — from the altar's edges, slow, silent, black. It was a liquid but not like water, heavier, slower. It surrounded all four of them, pooled beneath them, collected around them.
Eren went still for a moment. It was cold. Then it wasn't cold — the ink was warming, or it wasn't warming but the feeling had changed, shifted into something more comforting, almost enough to bring sleep. Like lying in a warm bath.
Dusk went quiet.
Silence.
Something was expected. None of them — except Dusk — knew what it was, but all of them were waiting. The air was waiting, the stone was waiting, the ink was waiting.
Then, slowly, one by one, their eyes closed.
Raphael found himself in a street.
Night. Wind was blowing — not light, sharp, coming from every direction. The street was unfamiliar but the feeling was familiar. It was dark but not frightening. It just was. And then, all at once, rain began to fall.
A figure was standing across from him.
Orin found himself inside a silver castle.
The walls were gleaming — pure, cold, metallic. There was no sound. Even his footsteps made no echo. It felt like a place suspended in a void, cut off from time and place.
A figure was standing across from him.
Kayra found himself at the summit of an enormous mountain.
There was nothing below — clouds had covered everything. The ground was hard, cold, real. There was no wind. Only silence and weight — the kind of weight a mountain carries.
A figure was standing across from him.
When Eren opened his eyes he was in Safe Haven.
But it was different.
Everything was stone — the buildings, the streets, the pavements, all worked stone. There were no gas lamps but everything was visible. He looked up at the sky. The full moon was shining, dead center, lighting everything, pure and round.
He knew this city. Every corner of it, every street. He'd walked here for years.
But now it was different. More real. Heavier.
Then he saw something ahead of him.
The figure was standing there.
It was armored — grey and gold, a cape flowing from its shoulders. A visor concealed its face, no eyes visible. But it had a presence — solid, measured, the bearing of someone who knew everything.
Eren stopped.
The figure spoke. Its voice was low, working its way in deep.
"Have you never noticed what's happening, Eren?"
Eren had started to grow afraid — how had he arrived here all at once, who was the person across from him, where had they come from, this was a busy street, where was everyone.
"Who are you? Answer me now."
"Look at this city." The figure gestured at the surroundings with one hand. "Every stone carries your ideals. Every building holds what you believe in. And that moon—" It looked up at the sky. "That shining moon represents your greatest dream."
Eren looked at the full moon. It was shining, as always.
"But you don't understand this." The figure's voice didn't change. "That you are plunging this beautiful world into darkness. That you are throwing this beautiful, solid world into crisis — and bringing it to ruin."
Everything changed all at once.
The sky went dark.
The full moon was still there but something was on top of it — a shadow growing, slowly, consuming the light. The streets went dark. The stone buildings were still standing but their color had drained, gone grey, washed out, the stones cracking and crumbling.
Ink erupted from the ground. The shadows came alive and began to shift shape.
Black, dense, living — from between the paving stones, from the base of walls, from everywhere. It flowed, grew, spread. It was swallowing the city, slow but unstoppable, inevitable.
A storm broke from the sky. Clouds gathered and darkened. Lightning struck — one, two, one after another. The sound came after, the kind that made it feel like the world itself was splitting apart. Every thunderclap made you flinch.
The figure turned and ran.
"Catch me and I'll tell you who I am." Its voice was coming from a distance now. "I'll give you the power to protect your ideals. To reach your dream."
Hands rose from the ground.
Enormous, black, made of ink — fingers long, moving slowly, but wrapping around everything. They wound around Eren's feet and held. The figure was pulling away.
Eren looked. He looked at the hands, looked at the figure.
He ran. He ran with everything he had.
The hands came after him.
New ones rose with every step — ahead, beside him, behind. The ink was rising, at knee height now. The figure was still visible, far off, running — but Eren was running too.
Lightning struck directly in front of him, splitting the stone pavement. Eren leapt, cleared it.
A hand caught his shoulder. Pulled. Eren turned, wrenched his arm free, kept going.
The figure was slowing down.
Or Eren was speeding up.
One last step — he reached out and caught it.
Everything stopped.
The hands fell away, the ink receded, the storm scattered. The full moon came back — complete, bright, as always. The city was breathing again.
The figure knelt before Eren.
It removed its visor.
The face resembled Eren's — but it was different. Calmer, deeper, older. The eyes were the same color but there was something inside them, something that had been waiting for a very long time.
"My name is Mese." Its voice was level. "I am a part of the soul that lives within your inner world. I have watched your entire life. To put it simply — I am a fragment of your spirit. I watched everything, but I was unconscious. This ritual gave me consciousness. From now on I will generate magical energy for you to use. I hope your friends succeed in their own trials."
Eren looked at him.
"Why did you run?"
Mese raised his head. Something appeared at the corner of his mouth — not quite a smile, but the closest thing to one.
"I was waiting to be caught. But first you had to run."
An hour later, Dusk said, "Get up."
All four of them rose. The ink had receded — the altar was empty, clean, as if nothing had ever happened. But something had changed. Eren felt it, couldn't describe it exactly, but it was there — something had settled inside him, new but familiar.
Four scrolls were lying on the altar's floor.
Dusk crouched, picked them up, looked at them. He handed the first to Kayra.
Kayra looked.
The second went to Raphael.
Raphael looked at the scroll. "Water? I've never—"
"No — what did you see in your inner world? Was there water nearby, or did it rain?"
Raphael was startled. Dusk had known it had rained.
The third went to Orin.
Orin looked at the scroll. Then he looked at Dusk. Dusk said nothing.
The fourth was handed to Eren.
Eren took it.
Three elements. Eren looked at the scroll.
Dusk took the scroll, looked at it. He paused for one second. Two seconds.
"Unusual." His voice was level. He gave it back. "Keep these. Don't show them to anyone. Rest properly today — don't exhaust yourselves."
He turned and walked toward the stairs.
When they came back up, Azel was waiting.
He was sitting in the common area, at the table. The deck of cards was in front of him but he wasn't shuffling it. When the four of them came in he looked at them.
"Sit down. I have something for you."
They sat.
Azel leaned over the table. "There's a mission. Simple — a few golems, a treasure they're guarding, retrieve it and bring it back. One day, two at most." He paused. "Those going: Leila, Dusk, Orin, Kayra, Raphael, Eren."
Silence.
"The ones not going?" Raphael asked.
"Stay here."
"Why aren't they going?"
Azel looked at him. For a long time.
"Because I said so. Though if you want a more sensible reason — go, gain some combat experience. And don't worry: Leila and Dusk are more than enough to handle those golems. You're going to watch how professionals fight."
Raphael went quiet.
Azel stood up. "You leave before noon. Get ready."
The preparation didn't take long.
Eren went to his room, opened his pack. Pistol — checked the ammunition, full. Lunar — drew it from the scabbard, looked at it, put it back. Patched jacket — he put it on. Into the pack went canned food, a spare box of ammunition, matches.
Simple. A habit left over from the island — don't carry too much, you'll slow yourself down.
When he stepped into the corridor Kayra was already ready. Raphael was coming out of his room, hair still a mess.
Orin was waiting at the door. He had nothing in his hands.
"No weapon?" Eren asked.
Orin raised his hands. He looked at his palms.
"I looked at my scroll." His voice was level. "Metal, variant Silver. I'm going to try it. I also got a compact bow — I picked it up because it's easy to carry. I'll shoot some arrows too."
Eren said nothing.
Leila saw Eren as she came down the stairs.
She stopped. She didn't pass.
"First mission." Her voice was clean. "Golem fight." She looked at Eren. "Have you ever faced a golem before?"
"No, I haven't."
"They're not fast but they hit hard. Don't get close." She kept going, passed him.
Eren watched her go.
Kayra came up beside him. He said nothing. But as he passed, he bumped lightly against Eren's shoulder.
Eren turned. "What?"
"Nothing." Kayra walked on. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Then come on. Let's add golem to the list of things we've killed."