We continued walking through the snow-covered forest.I could feel the icy gale piercing my skin, brushing against my very bones.
The faint growls echoing from deep within the woods had grown even softer—almost imperceptible to an ordinary ear. Yet, if I focused enough, I could still hear them clearly.
Unlike most people, I possessed certain special traits, intentionally implanted during my semi-artificial birth. One of them was having highly enhanced senses.
Of course, that wasn't all.
They had been further reinforced during my training at the S.E.C. Institute.
I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts aside and refocus on our surroundings. That was when I decided to break the silence.
"Hey, Lyaris," I asked, turning toward the jade-eyed girl. "Aside from ice fawns… what other spiritual animals exist?"
As I looked at her, I noticed she seemed completely oblivious to the sounds keeping me on edge.She kept walking with that haughty smile, as if the forest posed no danger at all.
"There are many kinds," Lyaris replied, briefly glancing into the depths of the woods. "But if you're asking whether any of them are aggressive… the answer is yes."
Then I saw it.
A blurred silhouette darted between the trees at an unnatural speed. It lasted only an instant, but it was enough to make my skin crawl. Without a doubt, this was the beast Lyaris had meant.
"Hey… why are you so confident?" I asked, incredulous. "Didn't you see that?"
"On the contrary. I did," she said calmly. "But it doesn't pose a significant threat… at least not to me."She whispered the last part, almost disdainfully.
"What the hell do you mea—"
I couldn't finish the sentence.
The air shattered.
Something lunged at me with brutal ferocity. A horrifying wolf tried to rip my head off in a single bite. Had it not been for my reflexes, I would already be dead.
The creature—if it could still be called that—hung suspended in the air for an eternal second. Its red eyes, blazing like embers, locked onto mine with an intensity that pierced straight to the bone. Even after dodging, I could still feel the weight of its gaze, like an echo reverberating through the forest.
It was measuring me. Judging me.
It stood as tall as a horse, its body seemingly forged from shadows and smoldering ash—a dying fire that clashed unnaturally with the pure white snow around us.
And its presence alone announced a terrifying truth:
This was no ordinary beast.
"What the hell is that thing…?" I asked, never breaking eye contact, alert to the slightest movement.
"That is Vorhûl, the Devourer of Shadows," Lyaris replied calmly, as if she were talking about a mere insect. "A spectral wolf that hunts by feeding on fear, guilt, and despair."
I swallowed.
"If it attacks you," she continued, "it's because you harbor one… or several of those emotions."
As she spoke, she slowly raised one hand into the air.
"I don't usually interfere when creatures like this appear," she added serenely. "But I'll help you. Only because you helped first by taking care of the shopping."
With that simple gesture, the freezing air distorted in her palm. The cold became visible, twisting into an unstable white sphere, as if light itself were being frozen.
"White Zero."
A flash pierced through the forest.
The blast struck Vorhûl's leg directly, instantly crystallizing it into pure ice.
The wolf let out a deep, hollow howl—an unnatural vibration that rippled through the trees. But instead of retreating, it raised its other paw, from which dense, living shadows poured forth, rushing toward us at impossible speed.
The forest darkened for a heartbeat.
"Watch out!" I warned Lyaris.
The darkness took shape—black hands materializing beneath her shadow, about to seize her. I reacted just in time, yanking her back by the arm. Without losing her composure, Lyaris froze the hands instantly, turning them into crystalline ice.
"Cryo-Nexus," she chanted.
This time, translucent blue—almost white—chains burst forth, shooting toward the wolf at ridiculous speed. As Vorhûl struggled, releasing more shadows to break free, its own energy flow solidified, growing colder and colder with every desperate attempt.
With a weakened growl, the wolf was completely frozen. Then, with a simple tap of Lyaris's index finger, the creature shattered, turning into white powder that scattered through the air.
The silence that followed Vorhûl's death was more terrifying than its growls.
The white dust—what had once been a shadow beast—vanished among the falling snowflakes as if it had never existed.
And yet, I could still feel the pressure around my neck.
"That thing…" I began, but my voice came out broken.
Lyaris didn't answer right away. She stood with her back to me, staring at the spot where the wolf had disintegrated. The glow of her magic still lingered in the air, but her posture was no longer haughty.
It was rigid.
"The Devourer of Shadows doesn't attack out of physical hunger," she said at last, turning toward me. Her jade eyes scanned me—not with curiosity, but with an intensity that felt like it was dissecting my thoughts. "It feeds on the dissonance of the soul."
I swallowed. My enhanced senses—the ones the S.E.C. Institute had burned into me—picked up more than just the cold.
They sensed judgment.
"You said it attacks those who feel fear or guilt," I recalled, trying to keep my composure. "In my world, those were training tools."
"Here, they are death sentences," she replied, resuming her walk.
I followed in silence. The path back to the cabin felt much longer than the way there.
Every snapping branch sent my mind drifting back to the white corridors of the Institute.
I remembered the "sensory synchronization" sessions.I remembered the pain of the implants adjusting to my nervous system while instructors repeated that my body no longer belonged to me—that it was property of the State.
What had Vorhûl seen inside me?
Was it fear of being nothing more than a biological machine?Or guilt for surviving when other "test subjects" hadn't?
"Hey, Tetsuo."
Lyaris's voice cut through the storm in my head as she used my name for the first time since we met. She had stopped in front of an old tree with silver bark.
"What kind of place raised you," she asked, "for you to smell so strongly of ash?"
I stopped a few steps behind her. The sunset over Eryndor was staining the snow a blood-orange hue.
"A place where humanity was considered a miscalculation," I answered with a sincerity that hurt. "I was designed to be efficient, Lyaris. Not to be happy."
She remained silent for a moment. Then, almost imperceptibly, her expression softened. It wasn't a smile—but the ice in her gaze had melted slightly.
"Oswin didn't bring you here just because he found you in the snow," she murmured, almost to herself. "He has a good eye for broken things."
She took a step forward and, for the first time, didn't tug at my sleeve with disdain. She simply pointed down the path.
"Hurry up. If we're late, the old man will eat all the pomas, and there won't be any left for dinner."
I walked beside her, feeling the air burn my lungs a little less.
The weight of the Institute still pressed on my back, and Vorhûl's shadow would likely haunt my dreams.
But watching Lyaris walk ahead of me, her green ribbon fluttering in the wind, I understood something:
In this world, perhaps—just perhaps—I could stop being a serial number and start being a person.
Even if the path ahead was filled with beasts that fed on the darkness still lurking within me.