Chapter 3: The Red Mark

The interrogation room was cold and windowless, a single bulb flickering above Ren's head. Two enforcers sat opposite him, their faces expressionless.

"You said you saw nothing unusual," one of them repeated. "Then how do you explain this?"

He tossed a bloodied satchel onto the table. Ren recognized it immediately. It belonged to Toma—a fellow scavenger who worked the lower dungeon levels.

"It wasn't there when I left," Ren said. "I swear. Toma wouldn't have gone that deep alone."

The second enforcer leaned in. "You're not telling us everything. These marks on his body... they weren't made by monsters. Something else killed him."

Ren's heart pounded. He knew they suspected him, and he didn't blame them. But the truth was far worse.

Because he had seen something. A shadow that moved between the dungeon walls. A presence that watched him. He'd dismissed it as stress.

Now he wasn't so sure.

"You're free to go," the enforcer finally said. "But if you see anything... inhuman... you report it immediately."

Outside, the city felt darker than before. The streetlamps flickered, and the moon was a pale, distant eye. As Ren made his way home, a sharp sting suddenly lanced through his chest. He gasped, falling to one knee.

Something burned beneath his skin—a symbol, faint and red, glowing on his sternum before fading away.

He didn't know what it meant.

But something had chosen him.