THE DARK PRICE

The world around Kaito was a blur of shifting shadows and faint, cold winds. His heart hammered in his chest, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

He stood over the corpse of the Dire Fangwolf, its once fierce eyes now empty and lifeless. The satisfaction of victory was fleeting, quickly replaced by the dread that hung heavy in the air.

[Soul Integrity: 87%]

He glanced at the flashing stat again. It had dropped again. The price of survival—of using his newfound power—was clear. His soul was being consumed, piece by piece, every time he relied on Phantom Step.

Kaito's chest tightened at the thought. How long could he keep using it before there was nothing left of him? The question gnawed at him like a constant, insidious whisper.

The second Dire Fangwolf hadn't attacked immediately after its companion's death, and Kaito couldn't help but notice the strange stillness in the air. The silence was unnatural—eerie, even. The faint rustling of the leaves above was the only sound that filled the oppressive void.

[Warning: Unknown Presence Detected.]

Kaito's body stiffened at the message that flickered into his vision. His grip on the sword tightened, his senses on high alert. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He wasn't alone. Something—or someone—was watching him.

Suddenly, a chill ran through him, deeper than the cold that had been creeping in since his revival. It wasn't the wolves or the environment—it was something far older, something far darker, that made his skin crawl.

The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally, growing thicker as if reaching out to him. He took a slow, measured breath, trying to steady himself.

Kaito felt the urge to turn around, to look at whatever had crept into the Hollow. But the moment he did, his instincts screamed at him to run.

Without thinking, his legs moved. Phantom Step.

For a heartbeat, he wasn't even there. The shadows swallowed him whole, and in the next instant, he appeared twenty feet to the left, crouched in the shadows of an ancient oak.

His eyes darted across the clearing, searching for the source of the creeping dread.

There, in the distance, cloaked by the shadows of the trees, stood a figure. Tall. Unmoving. His heart froze in his chest as he tried to make out the shape, the details of the figure, but the shadow around it was too thick.

The figure's presence was overwhelming—an impossible sense of power that radiated from it, like a black hole sucking everything around it into its orbit.

Kaito's breath hitched. He shouldn't be here. He knew it instinctively.

The figure took a step forward.

With it, the air seemed to grow even colder. The ground beneath Kaito's feet seemed to tremble slightly, as if the very world around him feared this being's presence.

Suddenly, the figure spoke, and its voice was the sound of a thousand whispers, each one colder and more alien than the last.

"You should not exist."

Kaito's blood ran cold. Every part of him screamed to run—to flee from this being that seemed to be made from the very essence of darkness. His instincts were telling him to leave, to escape before this entity tore him apart.

But his feet remained glued to the ground. His body refused to obey.

[System Message: Soul Integrity dangerously low. Proceed with caution.]

The message only added to the dread. Kaito's soul integrity was already slipping dangerously low. He didn't need to be told what would happen if it fell to zero.

He had seen what happened in the real world. The game didn't give second chances. There was no revival from total death.

The figure took another slow step forward, and the sound of its movement was unnaturally loud, echoing through the empty space. Each footfall sent waves of energy rippling outward, distorting the very air around it.

Kaito could feel his body tremble, not from cold, but from the sheer weight of this entity's power. It was suffocating, like trying to breathe underwater.

"You don't belong here," the figure murmured, its voice cutting through the silence with an edge of finality.

Kaito's mind raced. His thoughts were fractured, trying to process what was happening. Was this some kind of NPC, a powerful boss?

No, the way it spoke—the coldness in its voice—it didn't feel like the usual game encounter. This wasn't just an enemy. It felt like something that had always been here, waiting for him. Waiting for someone like him.

Kaito instinctively took a step back, his hand clutching his sword tighter. The blade felt heavier than ever.

Despite the fear that bubbled in his chest, he refused to show weakness. He had survived against the Dire Fangwolves. He could survive this.

But the figure's gaze was on him now.

Kaito's breath caught.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The shadows around the figure deepened, warping unnaturally, until they were no longer shadows at all, but living, writhing things.

Kaito's heart pounded in his ears as a wave of nausea washed over him.

The figure spoke again, and its words made Kaito's blood run cold.

"You have awakened something ancient. The game is no longer your enemy. I am."

Kaito's stomach turned. Awakened something ancient? What was this being talking about? It was as if the world itself had been waiting for Kaito, waiting for his arrival. But why?

Before he could react, the figure raised one long, slender hand. The air seemed to distort with a deep groan, and the shadows around Kaito surged forward, moving like liquid night, surrounding him.

Kaito swung his sword, but it passed through the shadows like they were made of mist—useless.

The shadows wrapped around him, binding him in place.

His body screamed in defiance, but it was like fighting against an immovable force.

His sword slipped from his hand, falling to the ground with a dull thud. His muscles were frozen, unable to move as the shadows constricted tighter around him.

[Warning: Soul Integrity critically low.]

The message flashed across his vision again, even more urgent this time, but Kaito couldn't focus on it. All he could think about was the darkness that was closing in on him, the suffocating, all-encompassing weight of it.

His breath came in shallow gasps. His chest felt like it was being crushed. The figure's presence loomed larger, immense, like an ancient god coming down from a forgotten era.

The figure stepped forward once more, its presence swallowing all light.

"You are not meant to walk this path."

Kaito's head spun. His thoughts were scattered. He could barely think past the pain in his chest and the crushing grip of the shadows.

But then, a voice—a familiar voice—cut through the fog in his mind.

"Fight."

It was soft, distant, but determined. Kaito's vision blurred as a flicker of something deep inside him stirred. Something ancient. Something he couldn't control.

The pain in his chest intensified, and for a moment, it felt as if his very soul was about to rip apart. But then—

A flash of light.

The world around him shattered. And Kaito Ren was gone.