Chapter 3: The Fog's Invitation
The cool night breeze carried an unsettling calmness as German Sparrow, now fully in control of Ken Moretti's body, adjusted the black gloves on his hands and tilted his top hat. The events from earlier echoed in his mind, especially the moment his sister was reduced to nothing more than a mist of memory. The laughter of the Soul Collectors still rang in his ears.
But he was no longer the same man. He was the Sparrow.
"I must build a foundation," he said to himself, eyes glimmering with conviction beneath the hourglass lens perched over his right eye. "If I am to rule this world once again, then it begins tonight."
He stepped into the silent streets of the city, black coat trailing behind him like a wraith, shadows retreating in fear. Ken's body felt weak, unrefined—but he would sculpt this vessel into one worthy of the Black Lagoon.
As the moon rose to its peak, a subtle shuffle from behind him interrupted his thoughts. A whisper of breath, a blade half-drawn—a foolish attempt at an ambush.
German Sparrow smirked.
In an instant, darkness collapsed inward.
The assassin blinked—and was no longer on the street.
He was now seated at a dark wooden table within a formless, obsidian-colored dimension. All light was gone, replaced by a thick black fog that obscured the distance. Chairs—twelve in total—circled the great table, but only one was occupied: the King's Chair.
German Sparrow sat in it, crossing his legs as fog coiled behind his shoulders like serpents. His presence was absolute.
"You thought you could sneak up behind me like a rat? How distasteful," Sparrow said, his voice calm but carrying ancient venom.
The assassin staggered back. "W-Where am I?! What is this place!?"
"This," Sparrow said, raising his hand, "is my realm. The Black Great Fog. A metaphysical dominion between fate and soul. Here, your weapon means nothing unless I allow it."
"I'm not scared of you!" the man shouted, summoning a long crescent blade shadow.
Sparrow smiled. "Your name?"
"...Dario Vance."
"And your weapon?"
"My weapon is Silence Eclipse—a dagger that steals your shadow. Once your shadow is severed, your weapon's soul is also severed. You'll be nothing but a vessel."
"Fascinating," Sparrow said, leaning forward, shadows curling from his chair legs. "A blade that strikes not flesh, but essence. I could use someone like you."
Dario narrowed his eyes. "You spared me just to recruit me?"
"No," Sparrow said. "I spared you because you're valuable. I kill those who are beneath that. You're at my table now, Dario. Will you sign the contract and become the first Hand of the Black Lagoon?"
Dario looked down at the table. A parchment had materialized in front of him—black ink glowing faintly, its letters moving as if alive.
He placed his hand on it.
"...I'll join you. But don't ever try to control me."
Sparrow chuckled. "You're already smarter than most."
---
They awoke the next morning in Ken's apartment.
Ken sat up groggily, rubbing his face. He looked around.
"...Why is there a guy in my house!?"
Dario, now shirtless and cooking eggs, looked over.
"Morning, Ken."
Ken twitched.
His eyes glowed slightly—Seer almost activating.
"GET OUT OR I'LL CARNIVAL YOUR FACE OFF!"
---
Author's Note: Dario Vance's Weapon - Silence Eclipse
Silence Eclipse is a unique soul-bound weapon crafted during the Blood Era, forged in the shadow of a dying sun by a forgotten child of the Crafter. It takes the form of a blackened dagger with an edge thinner than reality itself. What makes this weapon so dangerous is its ability to steal shadows—but not in a literal, visual sense.
When a person bonds with a soul weapon, the weapon creates a metaphysical echo within the soul: a spiritual shadow that links the user to the weapon's presence and power. Silence Eclipse interacts with this system on a transcendent level. By cutting this shadow (which exists in a fifth-dimensional echo state), it severs the user's link to the weapon entirely. This doesn't merely disarm the victim—it destroys their connection to their weapon's soul, effectively 'killing' the weapon without destroying the physical object. The user becomes an empty shell, unable to bond again.
The psychological horror is what makes Dario's weapon feared in the underground. Victims feel their own presence fading, even while alive—feeling as if their existence is unfinished. They see their weapon fall silent, and no amount of screaming wakes it up again. Some have committed suicide after losing their weapons to Dario. Others wander, broken, forever haunted by the silent void that remains in their soul.
The true secret? Silence Eclipse does not consume the shadow. It stores it—in Dario. Every soul echo stolen is a whisper that he hears in dreams.
And sometimes... they whisper back.