"Need meds? Got factory-grade knockoffs—exact same formula as the real stuff…"
The man selling fake medicine gave Damian Vale a light tap on the shoulder, pulling him back from his thoughts.
A strange heaviness settled in Damian's chest.
After what he'd just seen, some kind of theory had begun to form in his mind. He still didn't know the full picture—didn't even know what kind of world this was, or which version of it he had glimpsed. But when he looked around at the smiling, carefree faces surrounding him…
"Prisoners."
"Living inside a carefully constructed lie."
The ideas flashed through his head, growing heavier with each one. The contrast between what he saw and what everyone else seemed to believe made his heart sink.
The man's voice dragged him back again. Damian's nerves were fraying.
"What the hell do you want?" he snapped, turning to the medicine peddler.
"Want to buy some pills?" the guy asked, hopeful that Damian might be a potential customer.
"Pills? There are monsters in this city and you're still out here pushing fake drugs? What, you think you're a god or something?"
"What's your problem?"
"You're insane," Damian muttered.
The man scoffed and turned to leave. "You don't wanna buy, then don't waste my time."
"Wait."
"What now, kid? I've got a business to run."
"You sell lube?"
"…???"
…
Three thousand for a bottle of lube.
Damian reported him without hesitation.
By the time he finished filing the complaint at the Police Department, the sun was already beginning to set.
The sky was draped in hues of gold and violet as twilight descended over Branwick Safe Zone.
Evening was when the city came to life.
Street vendors pushed carts by the sidewalks. A little girl chased a balloon. Couples strolled hand in hand, laughing quietly.
Who would've guessed that beneath this peaceful, happy surface, there was another world entirely?
What had happened at the hospital—was it a hallucination? A vision? A different layer of reality?
He didn't know.
All he knew was that his chest… hurt. And it was getting worse.
Expression tight, Damian took the bus home, walked through his neighborhood, took the elevator up, and entered his apartment. First stop: the bathroom.
He stripped off his shirt.
Right in the center of his chest was a glowing tattoo—three to four centimeters wide—shaped like a book cover.
The design wasn't too complicated: five smaller rings forming one large circle, creating a sigil that looked almost exactly like…
The book that hit him in the face.
"The hell—?! Argh!"
The pain intensified.
It felt like burning oil splashing across his chest—sharp, searing, and pulling inward like something was being branded deep beneath the skin.
Dammit. Should've visited the Contamination Department while he was at the hospital.
Damian trembled violently from the pain. He grabbed the showerhead and turned on the water, aiming the icy spray at his chest.
"Hahhh…"
The moment the water hit, a harsh sizzle rang out. A bit of white steam lifted into the air.
Relief.
He kept the water running for a full minute before the pain finally faded.
Wiping his face, he brushed his hair back and looked at the mirror.
A pale but decent-looking face stared back at him—not exactly handsome, but not bad either.
Above his head hovered a familiar bar: [100%]
After leaving the hospital, he'd done a bit of experimenting with this new ability.
Most ordinary people's health bars only appeared if they were within a range of thirty to forty meters.
He could see his own bar through reflective surfaces like mirrors.
And if he didn't want to see them, all he had to do was will them away.
As for the rest… he hadn't figured that out yet.
Seeing that he was back to full health, Damian exhaled in relief.
He turned off the water, but something was bugging him.
He had gone to the hospital for two reasons:
First, the red "lines" in his vision. That turned out to be health bars.
Second, his vision distorted whenever he looked at darkness or shadows.
Right.
The shadows.
He looked down.
"What the fuck… Where's my shadow?"
The bathroom light cast straight down from above. He shifted slightly, moving to the side.
His shadow stretched out along the wall.
"Phew… Thank god. For a second I thought I didn't have a shadow anymore. That would've made me a ghost."
After everything that happened today, honestly—even if his shadow had gone missing, he wouldn't have been surprised.
He grabbed a towel and dried his face.
Then he opened the bathroom door.
And froze.
Standing in the doorway was a dark figure.
Pitch black from head to toe. Its surface had subtle gradients of darkness—some areas deeper than others.
Two hollow, empty sockets where its eyes should be.
Just watching him.
Their gazes locked.
"I knew… it wouldn't be that simple."
This was the third time today Damian's heart skipped a beat.
His shadow hadn't disappeared.
It had come to life.
…
"Can you raise your hand?"
The shadow raised a hand.
"Can you dance?"
The shadow moved.
"What? You can dance too?"
Damian's brain struggled to keep up.
He reached up and gently brushed the glowing tattoo on his chest.
Tiny sparks floated into the air. A glowing screen unfolded before him, lines of text blinking rapidly.
God, Awakened, Human.
The highlight settled on one word: Human.
Then the screen fully expanded.
⸻
Name: Damian Vale
[Attribute]: Shadow Element
[Ability Points]: 1/1
[Existence Tier]: (Unlocks at 10 Ability Points)
[Abilities]: Shadow Erosion, Voidpiercer Eye
⸻
A panel—like something out of a game—detailing everything about him.
He hovered his thoughts over some entries. New descriptions expanded automatically.
⸻
[Shadow Element]:
Your shadow exists because of you.
It possesses all your memories and can carry out any simple commands you give it.
However, it cannot think independently and does not have a physical body.
[Tip: Try giving it a training command. Who knows what might happen?]
[Shadow Erosion]:
You can absorb Ability Points from any source of darkness, strengthening yourself.
Alternatively, you can disintegrate non-living matter to extract Ability Points.
[Voidpiercer Eye]:
Your eyes have undergone unknown changes.
This ability allows you to see the hidden side of the world—and choose whether to observe or enter it.
You can perceive what others cannot.
(Additional functions: Unknown.)
⸻
Damian's head spun.
He looked at the screen, then at the shadow standing silently before him.
He reached out—his hand passed straight through the figure's chest.
No physical form.
"Can you speak?" Damian asked.
No response.
"You have all my memories?"
The shadow nodded.
"Alright."
"Then write down something I've done that made me happy."
He handed it a pen.
"Wait… Can you even hold a pen?"
The shadow remained silent, extended a hand—and took it.
Okay, so… It can interact with objects?
He reached through it again. His hand passed through like smoke.
Creepy.
"Why aren't you writing?"
He leaned in—and his face instantly fell flat.
The shadow had written one word: "Relieve oneself."
Then it stopped. Looking up at him with what almost seemed like an innocent expression.
"Out of everything… that's what you chose to write?"
Forget it. None of this mattered right now. What mattered was figuring out what the hell was going on.
Damian re-opened the panel and re-read the descriptions.
[Shadow Erosion]
Devouring darkness?
Damian crouched in the corner of the room and reached out his hand toward a patch of shadow.
Nothing happened.
This ability was useless without instructions. No tutorial. No guidebook. Not even a beginner tip.
He groaned in frustration, rubbing his temples.
At least he understood the basics of the Voidpiercer Eye.
He'd already seen the "dark side" of the world in the hospital.
"One step at a time," he muttered.
He glanced at the shadow.
"Do a few push-ups for me."
The shadow nodded. It stood.
Then it vanished.
"Hey! I said push-ups—not disappearing!"
"…Where the hell did my shadow go?"