The request board was never this quiet.
Kuro noticed it the moment they stepped into the task hall. Normally, parchment fluttered, adventurers argued, clerks shouted ranks and payments over one another.
Today?
People stood still.
Not frozen—but hesitant. Like prey sensing a trap.
"…Why is everyone staring at the board like it might bite them?" Kuro whispered.
Lucien squinted. "Either that, or someone posted a task so bad it offended reality."
[Ooooh, my favorite kind.]
Mika stopped walking.
That alone made Kuro tense.
Mika was staring at a single parchment pinned higher than the rest—far above the E-to-B ranks. Not A. Not S.
Above those.
Pinned where no task had any right to be.
"…That's new," Mika said quietly.
Kuro followed his gaze.
The parchment was old. Not yellowed—grey. The ink looked… wrong, like it absorbed light instead of reflecting it.
At the top, written in precise, unfamiliar script:
UNREGISTERED PHENOMENONLOCATION: ASHVEIL OUTSKIRTSSTATUS: UNCONFIRMED ENTITYREWARD: NEGOTIABLE
No rank.
No danger estimate.
No signature.
Kuro swallowed.
{Elvastia…}
[Yeah. I see it.]
{I don't like it.}
[Congratulations. You're developing survival instincts.]
Lucien leaned closer, reading aloud. " 'Phenomenon'? That's not a monster classification."
"No," Mika said. "That's what they use when they don't want to admit they don't understand something."
Kuro felt it then.
That same subtle pull.
Like a thread tightening in his chest.
"…It's calling," he murmured before he could stop himself.
Both Mika and Lucien snapped their heads toward him.
"Calling?" Lucien echoed. "Like—calling calling?"
Mika didn't ask questions. His hand closed around Kuro's wrist, grounding.
"Where," he said simply.
Kuro's breath trembled. "South. Past the old watchtowers. Near the Ashveil ruins."
The silence that followed was heavy.
The Guildmaster's voice came from behind them.
"So you feel it too."
They turned.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the parchment.
"That task wasn't posted by the guild," he continued. "It appeared this morning."
Lucien blinked. "It… appeared."
"Yes."
Kuro's stomach dropped.
Mika's voice was sharp. "You're not sending him."
The Guildmaster met his gaze evenly. "I'm not sending anyone."
He looked at Kuro.
"But it's already chosen."
The thread in Kuro's chest tightened painfully.
{This is bad. This is very bad.}
[Oh, we're way past 'bad,' kid.]
Kuro took a slow breath.
"…If I don't go," he asked quietly, "will it come here instead?"
The Guildmaster didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Mika swore under his breath. "Absolutely not. You're not walking into a trap alone."
Lucien straightened. "He's not alone anyway. Last I checked, we're a party."
Kuro looked between them, eyes wide. "You don't have to—"
"Yes, we do," Lucien said firmly. "Because if this thing followed you once, it'll do it again."
Mika squeezed Kuro's wrist, not letting go. "And because whatever this is—"
His eyes flicked to the parchment.
"—it's connected to you."
Kuro nodded slowly.
Fear still coiled in his chest—but beneath it, something else stirred.
Resolve.
"…Then let's take the task," he said.
The moment the words left his mouth—
The parchment burned.
Not with fire.
With shadow.
The ink shifted, rewriting itself as if satisfied.
STATUS: ACCEPTED
[Well. That's reassuringly ominous.]
Lucien laughed weakly. "I miss when tasks were like 'kill five slimes.'"
Mika drew his sword just enough for the metal to whisper.
"Gear up," he said. "We leave within the hour."
Kuro stared at the darkened parchment, heart pounding.
Whatever waited in Ashveil—
It wasn't just watching anymore.
It was ready.