— Death is Only the Beginning

The cold steel dug deep into my chest with disturbing finality.

A sharp, burning agony ripped through my body, and I screamed, my breath seizing in my throat as blood rushed upwards. The warmth flowed across my flesh, in stark contrast to the chilly, damp night air. My eyesight clouded, and I fell to my knees, the weight of my body too great to take as blood ran down my side and pooled on the rain-slick tarmac.

Through the cloud of anguish, I gazed up, catching his eyes.

He stood above me, his familiar expression contorted with vicious satisfaction. The man I had once considered a brother. I had put my trust in this man.

But now his eyes were cold, devoid of any recognition of the bond we once had.

"You were always a mistake, Zayn," he snarled, his voice full of malice. "The world doesn't need trash like you."

The words cut deeper than the dagger in my chest. Betrayal. Cold. Unforgiving. It rang out louder than the distant hum of the metropolis. It was a wound that went deeper than any weapon could.

The alley was strangely peaceful, save for the steady fall of rain and the gentle bubbling of blood as it bubbled from my lips. The world around me appeared to warp, as if it was going away. My eyesight clouded, and the edges were hazy. The rain continued to fall, bearing witness to the end of my life.

I attempted to reach out and say something—anything—but my body refused to cooperate. My limbs were heavy, and my vision faded with each passing second. Was that the end?

A beggar. A worm. A nothing.

That was how they had always viewed me. That was how I had lived—in the shadow of everyone else, undetected and forgotten. I'd spent my life crawling through the dirt, longing for something more. But it looked like fate had other ideas for me.

My breathing became shallow, and the darkness drew closer, luring me into its frigid grasp.

Then it occurred.

The world around me cracked like brittle glass, and the deep, disturbing silence was broken by a voice that was cold, mechanical, and alive with something I couldn't place.

[Shadow System Binding is Complete.]

My old room greeted me with familiarity. The same cracked mirror hung on the wall. The same fading wallpaper is flaking around the borders. I was back.

Back ten years, before the knife ever touched me. Before everything fell apart.

My heart hammered in my chest, hammering against my rib cage as I jumped to my feet. The sudden flood of memories — pain, regret, the faces of those who had abandoned me — overwhelmed me.

But it wasn't the past I was concerned about.

It was the present. Specifically, the recent modification.

I stumbled toward the smashed mirror, my reflection looking back at me. A teenager with dark, piercing eyes. My eyes. But they were sharper now, and full of something new. My left arm had a shadow. It wrapped around my arm like a dark, inhuman serpent. It pulsed as if it were alive, a weird and powerful force that resided deep inside me.

The voice returned.

[New mission: Survive.]

[Reward: Shadow Skill - Consumption.]

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and I couldn't stop smiling. A bitter, dark grin appeared on my face.

They believed they had killed me.

They believed they'd seen the last of me.

But they were mistaken.

I wasn't just a disposable nobody. I wasn't someone who could be wiped with a single dagger in the heart.

I had received a second chance. A new life.

And this time, I would not be forgotten. I wouldn't be the one hiding in the shadows anymore. This time, I'd decide my own fate.

A shadow never dies.

And I — Zayn, the discarded soul — was about to prove it.