Shadow of the Task

CHAPTER 3

A few months had passed. They kept switching cars, always on the move. He was waiting for his next mission. Things had started to improve between them. The girl had begun to admire him. They had spent the night together. At dawn, they decided to hit the road.

But as they were driving, the girl kept looking at him with awe. His focus wavered for a moment. A truck suddenly appeared in front of them. He jerked the wheel sharply to avoid it causing the car to flip.

They finally stopped after crashing into a tree.

The bearer slowly opened his eyes. There was a pulsing pain in his chest. A few meters away, the girl lay unconscious at the base of the rocks. They had survived. Shadowseal had protected him just enough to keep him alive.

He picked her up and walked until he found a cave entrance. He laid her down in an empty spot inside.

After checking himself, he tried to sleep.

But he couldn't close his eyes anymore.

Every time he did, that scorched voice echoed in his head:

"Where is the map… The mission awaits… More is needed…"

Missions were never given directly. Shadowseal only spoke in the dark temple of Hell. But this time, something had changed.

A new boundary had been drawn.

A new rule etched into his fate...

It was no longer enough to just descend into Hell.

The map would only appear if his soul was pushed into the depths of darkness.

He tried praying first. Then meditation.

But there was only silence.

And then the voice returned:

"Only pain… true pain… will open the new path."

His eyes snapped open.

His breath sharp.

The blade was in his bag, in a leather sheath. The mask pulsed faintly beneath his skin. It was invisible but it was there. Like a second heart.

He pulled out the blade.

Pressed it against his chest, just beside the heart.

No hesitation. No fear.

With silent resolve, he stabbed himself.

Blood erupted.

A muffled sound escaped his throat but he didn't scream.

The pain flowed through his veins like ice.

And then… the map appeared.

It floated in the air, drawn in light an image not of this world.

But it burned into his mind.

It was a reflection of Hell.

A new target.

A new sin.

He collapsed, tossing the blade aside. Blood soaked the earth.

And the mask whispered:

"The fact that you can do this… makes you different."

He leaned his head against a rock.

The sky above was still gray but inside… he was darker than ever.

The girl stirred.

The mission was awakening.

He now knew where to go.

But not how to return.

The morning was foggy.

The sky a dull gray.

A heavy pressure lingered in the air.

Inside the car, the bearer leaned on the steering wheel, staring through the misted glass. In the passenger seat, the marked girl slept quietly. The traces of the crash still lingered on her face but her breathing was calm. She was alive.

Down in the valley, a military base could be seen. It looked like an ordinary outpost but in his mind, the mission had already taken root.

This place was not ordinary.

This was the epicenter of darkness.

He cracked the door open.

Mountain air hit his face.

He closed his eyes.

Inside, the voice of the first sealed soul echoed:

"There… the rotten vein of the cult… Cut it out."

He opened his eyes.

And the resolve inside him… had become second nature.

They waited for hours. Still.

Eventually, the girl woke. She looked at him quietly.

She wanted to ask something but the look on his face silenced every question.

He pointed toward the valley with his hand. As if to say, "Look."

The base had begun to stir.

Armored vehicles.

Uniformed men.

Checkpoints.

But some of the uniforms weren't standard.

From the huts along the mountainside, crates were being unloaded.

Black bags. Marked containers.

One of the crates was opened.

The girl whispered under her breath:

"Weapons…"

The bearer nodded.

But it wasn't just weapons.

Some boxes bore medical symbols but their contents were different:

Drugs.

Genetic materials.

Experimental injections.

And then…

A man appeared.

Sharp features. Cold eyes. He wore command insignias but he was no soldier.

He was one of the six leaders of the cult.

And now… it was his turn.

The bearer watched him with unease.

This was no ordinary target.

He was surrounded by layers of security.

Every move was monitored.

Brute force wouldn't be enough. Chaos was needed. A spark.

The girl whispered in worry:

"You can't do this alone."

He turned to her.

For the first time, there was a flicker of fragility in his eyes.

But just for a moment.

"I'm not alone," he said.

"There are twelve souls within me now.

I walk guided by their whispers."

When night fell, he opened the trunk.

He pulled out an ancient weapon.

Not a gun.

An old axe. It looked like it belonged to a ritual.

The girl stared in shock.

"Is that… from Hell too?"

He didn't answer.

He just nodded.

As he gripped the axe, the mask's influence spread across his face.

His eyes darkened.

His skin turned pale.

Veins emerged.

He was ready.

He walked into the forest.

Silence was now his companion.

Shadows, his allies.

And tonight…

A leader would die.

A soul would be sealed.

Shadowseal would take one step closer.