Truth In Lies

A slow, rhythmic beep echoed in the darkness.

It pulsed in the steady hum of machinery weaving into the silence like a phantom whisper.

Soon, Grim's senses returned in fragments - first, the cold bite of metal against his wrists and ankles, then the acrid scent of sterilized air mixed with something faintly reminiscent of incense.

A moment later, his eyes fluttered open, but the light that greeted him was harsh - too bright and too artificial.

A sterile white glow bled from every corner of the room, devoid of shadow, making it impossible to gauge depth.

Where the hell am I?

He shifted, or at least, tried to. Heavy restraints bound his wrists, waist, and legs, securing him to a steel chair bolted to the ground.

His body ached, and his muscles were as sore as if he'd been ran over by a freight train. Suffice it to say, the Reaper System's shutdown had taken its toll.

Damn, it's cold in here.

Then, a sound - a soft mechanical whirr - drew his attention.

A digital display embedded in the wall flickered to life as neon-blue symbols cascaded across its surface. A second later, his name, his stats, and a new notification scrolled into view:

[System Reboot in Progress… 42%]

Grim's breathing slowed. The system was still active. It hadn't abandoned him just yet. But why did it need to reboot in the first place, he thought.

And just as the thought came, a sharp hiss cut through the air, and the reinforced steel door before him slid open.

Two figures stepped inside.

One was a man in his forties, clad in a pristine black uniform adorned with the SGA's insignia - a crimson emblem shaped like an open eye, marking him as an investigator of high rank. His expression was unreadable, and his silver-rimmed glasses caught the sterile light in a way that hid his eyes.

The second figure was a woman, standing just behind him. She was young, perhaps mid-twenties, her long dark hair tied into a high ponytail. Unlike the man, she wasn't in uniform, wearing a fitted tactical coat over casual wear, her left hand gripping a slim, leather-bound grimriore.

Grim's gaze flicked between them, instinctively analyzing the pair.

An investigator and a spellcaster. They didn't send amateurs to deal with me.

The man adjusted his glasses, tapping the display on the wall. It shifted to show footage of the holding facility's massacre - the soldiers' bodies, the blood mist, and Grim's demon mask forming in the chaos.

"You've caused quite a mess, Yomiyama," the investigator said smoothly, his tone devoid of emotion. "Or should I say... Grim?"

Grim didn't respond. His expression was cold and flat.

The woman narrowed her eyes, stepping forward.

"We have your system logs. Your Souls Claimed records. Every move you made in that facility."

Grim kept his expression neutral, but internally, his mind was racing.

They know about the system? How much do they understand?

The investigator exhaled, feigning disappointment.

"You could make this easy and tell us why you really did it. Why you killed them."

A sharp chill crawled down Grim's spine. Not because of the accusation - he expected that much. But because, for the briefest second, his Reaper System flickered in his mind's eye, glitching.

[Error… Data Incomplete.]

His fingers twitched against the restraints.

Something was very, very wrong.

The investigator's gaze remained fixed on Grim, his expression carefully measured. Behind him, the woman turned a few pages in her grimriore, and the enchanted text reacted to her mana like shifting ink.

Grim said nothing - still.

Silence settled between them before the investigator sighed, finally speaking:

"You're making this harder than it needs to be."

He gestured toward the footage still playing on the wall display - the moment Grim's blood katana materialized, the instant he vanished in a mist of crimson, his mask forming as his power surged - before he continued, tapping the screen:

"This... is not the work of a normal shaman. This is the ability of a gami."

The woman scoffed.

"He's not just any gami." She added, adjusting her grip on her grimriore, her mana flaring subtly. "He took out four guilded operatives and still had the strength to escape. No recorded shaman has ever displayed abilities like that."

Grim's jaw tensed.

They weren't wrong. He was different. Even compared to the Guilded Shamans he'd encountered, his abilities felt... foreign. More primal, more instinctual. But what disturbed him wasn't their words.

It was the system's error message, still lingering at the edge of his consciousness.

[Error… Data Incomplete.]

[Reaper System… Adjusting Parameters.]

What the hell does that mean?

The investigator leaned forward, resting his elbows on the steel table between them, noting Grim's odd, spaced-out expression.

"We already know you didn't kill your parents."

Grim's eyes snapped toward him, as well as the woman, who shot the investigator a curious glance but said nothing.

"That's right," the man continued, adjusting his glasses. "We ran the analysis. The crime scene didn't match your usual… execution style." His voice held a trace of amusement, as if he were discussing a business transaction rather than a massacre. "The precision, the mana residue... it belonged to something else."

Grim's brows furrowed.

He should've felt relief. After all, they knew he wasn't responsible. But that only made the burning question in his mind even worse.

If they know I'm innocent, does that mean they know who did it, too? If so... if they get in my way, they'll be the next souls I claim.

His expression turned murderous.

However, the woman finally spoke again, as if meaning to answer the question in Grim's head, her voice more measured this time.

"If you didn't do it, Danuja, tell us... what really happened that night."

The muscles in Grim's face loosened, though his eyes flickered in the light as he tilted his head.

When I get free, you're dead.

Then he turned his gaze to the investigator.

But you're first.

A second later, a sudden sharp beep echoed in his head.

DING!

And a new notification flashed before his vision.

[Warning: Unstable Memory Fragment Detected.]

[Attempting Reconstruction…]

Grim barely registered the woman's voice as she repeated her question, the room around him flickering.

For a split second - just a fraction of a heartbeat - the world changed.

The interrogation room vanished.

He was standing in his parents' house again.

The smell of blood filled the air.

Shadows twisted unnaturally along the walls.

A voice whispered his name—

Then it was gone.

His mind snapped back to the present, his body jerking violently against the restraints while a sharp pain lanced through his skull - as if something inside him was trying to break free.

"..."

"—miya! Hey!"

Gradually, the woman's voice came through as Grim's vision cleared, the investigator and the woman watching him carefully now.

Grim exhaled shakily. His body felt lighter, like he'd been in a dream, perhaps a memory, just now. But it wasn't a memory. Not entirely.

It was a reconstruction.

The system was showing him something - but Grim couldn't help the feeling that it was incomplete.

And for the first time since he woke up, heat coiled in his chest. Something more than the Shadow had been in the house with him on that fateful day.

And it was still watching.

******

Somewhere else in the building, a cold cup of coffee sat untouched on a metal desk while a partially manicured hand fingered the rim of the porcelain.

Detective Nozomi stared at the screen before her, the footage of Grim's slaughter at the holding facility looping for the seventh time. Each time, she analyzed the movements, the blood mist, the instantaneous kills - and yet, she didn't see a monster. She saw a victim who had learned how to kill.

Her grip tightened around the edges of the terminal, and her thoughts took over.

Why do I keep hesitating?

Her superior's voice echoed in her mind:

"You are not his judge. Your job is to uphold the law, not question it."

But that wasn't how she saw justice.

Her own past had taught her that the law was not infallible. It made mistakes. It destroyed innocent lives just as easily as it saved them.

And right now, she had a sinking feeling that the SGA was making a mistake with Grim.

The office around her was dimly lit, save for the glow of multiple data screens displaying intelligence reports on Grim. His entire life was laid out in a cold, emotionless file.

"Danuja Yomiyama"

Age: 18

Orphaned as a child by his own parents

Raised in Division 12 slums

No recorded magical affinity

Accused of double homicide (Parents)

Suspected rogue gami influence

Confirmed Reaper System anomaly

Nozomi's gaze lingered on the last line.

Anomaly.

That's all the SGA cared about - not why he had these powers, not the truth behind his past, just the fact that he was different.

She sighed and rubbed her temples.

Then a faint knock on the glass partition behind her made her shoulders stiffen. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Detective Nozomi," came the smooth voice of Vice Chairman Masayuki Ito.

She schooled her expression and turned to face him.

"Sir."

Masayuki was a man who exuded control. His suit was pristine, his expression was carefully neutral, and his hands were tucked neatly into his pockets. The kind of man who never showed his cards unless absolutely necessary.

He took a slow step inside, glancing at the footage still playing behind her.

"I assume you've reviewed the evidence thoroughly."

"I have," she said evenly.

"And your thoughts?"

Nozomi hesitated, taking the time to chose her words carefully.

"He's dangerous. But... I don't believe he's the threat you think he is."

Masayuki hummed, his expression carefully neutral.

"You believe he's innocent?"

His voice was tempered, causing her pulse quicken. This was a test, she thought. Then she met his gaze.

"I believe we don't have the full picture. His system - it's acting outside of known parameters. If we rush to label him as a threat without understanding why… we risk losing valuable intel."

Masayuki studied her for a long moment.

Then, he smiled, but it wasn't reassuring.

"Interesting," he said. "I expected you to be more decisive, given your reputation."

Nozomi's stomach twisted realizing what he meant by that simple analysis.

Masayuki grinned, then turned slightly, clasping his hands behind his back before continuing:

"Be careful, detective. Uncertainty can be mistaken for sympathy. And sympathy can be… misinterpreted."

A warning.

Nozomi exhaled slowly as he exited the office, leaving behind an unmistakable tension in the air.

After a held breath, she turned back to the screen, Grim's face frozen mid-battle, and his eyes burning with something between rage and survival.

Her fingers hovered over the "restricted access" section of his file. A few keystrokes and she could uncover what the higher-ups weren't telling her. So, she took a deep breath.

Then, she typed in her override code.

ACCESSING CONFIDENTIAL FILE…

Her heart pounded as the screen flickered, because what she saw suggested something dangerous.

FILE DELETED.

Nozomi's breath caught.

What?

She stared at the screen, double checking and confirming her override access was still valid. The file should've been there. But instead—

DATA NOT FOUND.

"Someone had to erased it." Her grip on the desk tightened. They were hiding something.

And now, she had no choice.

If she wanted the truth… she would have to get it directly from Grim.