The parking garage lights flickered like dying stars.
One floor. Then another. Then another.
Kenji stood in the street, rainwater pooling around his bare feet as he watched the structure across the road.
Shapes moved between the pillars.
More than one.
More than ten.
Human-shaped silhouettes, all of them—and not one casting a shadow.
Kenji exhaled slowly.
"Well," he murmured, "that escalated quickly."
The shadow beside him didn't move.
But the air had changed.
Heavier now.
Like something was building beneath the surface of the world.
Kenji glanced down at the body at his feet.
Or what was left of it.
It looked hollow. Drained. Like something essential had been removed and taken somewhere else.
He nudged it lightly with his foot.
"No pulse?"
He is alive, the shadow answered inside his mind.
Kenji raised an eyebrow.
"Define alive."
He still breathes.
Kenji crouched and studied the man's face.
Eyes open.
Unfocused.
Empty.
"Brain?"
A pause.
Uncertain.
Kenji stood again.
"That seems inconvenient for him."
Across the street—
one of the figures stepped forward.
Not down the stairs.
Not through the entrance.
Just… forward.
From the edge of the rooftop.
Kenji frowned slightly.
"Please tell me he's not about to jump."
The figure stepped off.
For a moment, gravity took him.
Then the darkness moved.
A shadow peeled itself from the side of the structure and stretched outward, catching the falling body like a net. The impact made no sound. The figure settled into it, weightless, before being lowered gently to the ground.
Kenji watched without reacting.
"Huh."
The man now stood across from him.
Tall. Thin. Dressed in a long coat that didn't stir in the wind.
And beneath him—
nothing.
No shadow.
Kenji gave a small nod.
"You must be management."
The man ignored that.
His eyes were fixed on the towering silhouette beside Kenji.
Recognition flashed across his face.
Then something sharper.
Concern.
"Step away from it," he said quietly.
Kenji blinked.
"That's not how introductions usually go."
The man didn't look at him.
"That entity does not belong in this world."
Kenji sighed softly.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"You crossed the boundary."
"Not intentionally."
"That does not matter."
The man raised one hand.
Kenji felt it immediately.
The shadows beneath the surrounding buildings began to move.
Not subtly.
Dozens of them.
Sliding across the ground like dark currents, converging toward the street.
Kenji glanced sideways at the silhouette beside him.
"Friends of yours?"
No answer.
But the shadow stepped forward.
Just once.
Every moving shadow froze.
Instantly.
Like something deeper had claimed authority.
The man narrowed his eyes.
"You don't understand what that thing is."
Kenji tilted his head.
"You're right."
The man stepped closer. Rain began falling again—sudden, heavy.
"It's not your shadow."
Kenji waited.
The man pointed directly at the towering silhouette.
"That thing…" his voice lowered, "…is the one that guards the door you escaped."
Kenji looked at the shadow.
Then back at him.
"You're telling me the gatekeeper followed me home?"
Silence.
Kenji rubbed the back of his neck.
"That seems like a design flaw."
The man's expression darkened.
"Return it."
Kenji blinked.
"Return it?"
"Send it back."
Kenji glanced at the shadow again.
It stood quietly beside him.
Watching.
Present.
Aware.
Kenji looked back.
"I would."
A pause.
"But I don't think it wants to leave."
The shadow turned its head toward the figures in the parking structure.
And this time—
Kenji felt something inside it.
Not anger.
Not hunger.
Something colder.
Older.
The man across the street went still.
"…that's not possible."
The shadow began to change.
Not growing taller—
but deeper.
As if darkness itself was thickening into form.
Kenji let out a quiet breath.
"Well," he muttered,
"I think it just made a decision."