The riverbed lay still under the moon's cold gaze, its silence broken only by the whisper of reeds and the faint gurgle of water. The small shrine—now cracked and tilted—seemed to bleed shadows into the earth. A presence lingered here, older than the stones, sharper than the wind.
The shrine's shattered base pulsed faintly, as if the earth itself were breathing. Wisps of black mist coiled from its fractures, twisting into shapes too fleeting to name—jagged claws, hollow eyes, a maw stretched wide in a soundless scream.
Nearby, a crow perched on a weathered rock. Its head tilted, obsidian eyes reflecting the shrine's corruption. With a guttural cry, it took flight, wings scattering the mist. For a heartbeat, the shadows coalesced into a humanoid figure—tall, featureless, its outline fraying at the edges like smoke.
The figure knelt, a hand hovering over the shrine's remnants.
???
(voice like rustling leaves)
"…Broken. Awakened."
The ground trembled. Ants fled their nests. Beetles curled into husks. The river's flow stuttered, water turning viscous and dark.
Flashback (Echoed Memory):
Centuries ago: A priestess in white robes chanted at this shrine, her voice raw as she drove a blade into the earth. Blood seeped into stone, sealing a writhing shadow beneath.
Present day: Tooya's blood, spilled during the beating, dripped onto the same stones—cracking the seal.
The figure stood, its form dissolving into the mist.
???
"The pact is made. The feast begins."
The words hung like a curse. The riverbed's shadows deepened, stretching toward the city. In the distance, a stray cat yowled—then fell silent.
The moon dipped behind clouds, plunging the riverbed into near-darkness. The shrine's cracks glowed faintly now, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Footsteps echoed—soft, deliberate. A silhouette emerged from the tree line, clad in a hooded cloak. No face visible, no skin exposed. They knelt beside the shrine, gloved hands brushing the corrupted stone.
???
(murmuring)
"So… it's loose."
From their cloak, they withdrew a small jar filled with iridescent powder. Sprinkling it over the shrine, the substance ignited on contact—burning blue and odorless. The shadows recoiled, hissing.
The powder's flames formed a wolf's snarling visage in the air.
The hooded figure recoiled, clutching their chest.
???
(grim)
"Not just a spirit. A void-eater."
They stood, staring toward the city lights. Somewhere in that sprawl, Tooya slept unaware—bound to a creature far older, far hungrier, than he realized.
The figure vanished into the night, leaving the riverbed to rot.
But the shrine's pulse quickened.
And somewhere, Kuroe smiled in her sleep.