The lights in the archive flickered, like candles on the verge of extinguishing. Ethan stared at the pitch-black file, his fingertips still trembling from numbness. Each page felt written in blood, the characters writhing as if unwilling to be seen by human eyes.
He took a deep breath and flipped the file open again.
The first passage struck him like a muffled thunderclap, hitting his chest with heavy force:
—Hundreds of years ago, humans first encountered the "Nightmares." They did not invade spontaneously—they were summoned.
The summoners were among the rulers of the time: a cohort of scholars and priests. They hungered for power, attempting to harness the Nightmares to surpass the limits of mortal beings.
"…It was man-made," Ethan muttered, shock threading his voice.
Karl's expression darkened, silent, simply gesturing for him to continue.
On the second page of the file, a portion of history had been deliberately erased:To control the Nightmares, the rulers constructed the "Realm of the Reaper." It was not a natural world, but a prison forged at the cost of tens of thousands of souls—a throne of shadow that was both cage and reservoir of power.
"They treated the Realm of the Reaper as a weapon," Ethan whispered.
The symbols in the file began to converge, forming a blood-red tableau: countless mortals thrown into the rifts, their souls burning to become the bricks of the prison. The power of the Nightmares was extracted and distributed to a select few of the "Contracted Families."
Ethan's eyes froze. In the lines of crimson letters, several familiar surnames were clearly recorded:Veil, Carson, Brand, Eisol…
—These were precisely the major families that now formed the Bureau.
"I see now," Karl exhaled slowly, his gaze complex. "The foundation of the Bureau… from the very beginning, it was built on betrayal and bargains."
Ethan's breath quickened. He could feel his heart hammering, threatening to burst his chest.
He continued flipping through the pages until the final chapters, where the handwriting grew ever more twisted, as if penned in extreme fear and despair:
—The power of the Nightmares cannot remain sealed forever. Every few decades, the rifts loosen.—"Vessels" are created to bear the escaping energy. Only certain bloodlines can serve as suitable vessels.—If a vessel loses control, the Realm of the Reaper will collapse entirely, unleashing the Nightmares in full.
Ethan's fingers trembled as they froze on a single line.He recalled the genealogical record in the previous file, remembered his own surname.
Karl noticed his distant expression and asked,"…What did you see in there?"
Ethan closed his eyes, forcing down the fear swelling in his chest, managing a bitter smile:"I saw truths that none of us want to know."
He did not voice the secret of the "vessel." That truth was too heavy; speaking it aloud would mean he was no longer just an agent, but a key piece on the entire chessboard.
The air in the archive grew colder, as if invisible hands brushed the back of their necks. On the final page, a single line of blood-red warning slowly appeared:
"This file is forbidden. Those who peer within shall become the next sacrifice."
The lights abruptly went out, plunging the archive into complete darkness.
Ethan's heart tightened. Instinctively, he drew his pistol, aiming into the void. Heavy breathing surrounded him, indistinguishable between his own and some lurking presence in the shadows.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder.
It was Karl.He gripped firmly, reminding Ethan to stay calm:"Ethan, put away that expression. You're not alone."
Ethan exhaled slowly, suppressing the chaos in his chest.
The file closed, and the whispers vanished.
They both knew that from this moment onward, they had become the bearers of the forbidden files.
The conspiracy of the Nightmares was no longer just a relic of the past—it was a storm poised to devour the future.