There was no sky.
No earth.
Only silence—vast, unbroken, and suffocating.
It was not darkness, for even darkness had a shape. This place was emptier than that, a void so deep it erased thought itself. Time dissolved, seconds stretching into eternities, eternities collapsing into single instants.
Yet within the void, two thoughts clung stubbornly to him.
Where am I? Am I truly drifting forever? He remembered his promise—his vow that he would endure, waiting for the day when words unspoken would finally break free.
And the second thought burned brighter, cutting through the numbness. A face, gentle yet unwavering. A woman who had once taken him in, who fed him when he starved, who gave him shelter when the world scorned him, who gave him a home when all doors had shut.
Emilia… our Mother Saint. I love you, even now. Even here.
The void trembled. Something tugged at him, faint at first, then stronger—like an invisible thread hooking into his very soul.
The nothing tore.
A scream, raw and piercing, cut through the emptiness—his scream. His world exploded into blinding white.
Snow.
An endless wasteland of snow. The world howled with the voice of a merciless storm, burying all beneath its fury.
For days, Yuki and Neil trudged through that white abyss.
Yuki's skin, pale as frost itself, seemed almost luminous under the storm's veil. Every step was agony, her breaths shallow, her swollen belly dragging her down. Her long hair—white as the snowstorm surrounding her—lashed across her face, freezing against her lashes.
Beside her, Neil was a shadow cut against the white. His hair, black as midnight, his form staggering yet unyielding, he pressed forward with grim determination. His hands shook, his lips bled from the cold, but he did not stop.
The black and white—their figures against the endless storm—were like despair and hope walking hand in hand.
Each footprint they left was swallowed within moments, erased by the wind as though they had never existed.
Yuki faltered, clutching her belly as pain tore through her again. "Neil…" Her voice cracked, nearly lost in the storm. "I… I can't walk anymore…"
"You can." Neil's voice was hoarse, his breath shallow, but his grip on her arm was unyielding. "One more step. Just one. Then another."
Her knees buckled. She cried out, collapsing into the snow, her body trembling with exhaustion and the agony of labor.
"It hurts," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Gods… it hurts—"
"I know." Neil knelt beside her, his forehead pressed to hers, his tears freezing before they could fall. "I'll carry it with you. Just… don't leave me. Not here. Not now."
He lifted her onto his back. His body, once strong, was now gaunt and battered, but he carried her as though his own life meant nothing. His boots sank deep into the snow, his strength draining with every step, yet still he pressed forward.
Sometimes, his eyes flickered, drifting to places where nothing stood. He saw shadows in the white, whispers curling in the wind. Nightmare Mountain haunted him still.
They're watching, Neil… you shouldn't have lived…
He shook his head violently, muttering through clenched teeth. "Not now. Not her. Not him. Stay quiet. Stay quiet!"
"Neil…?" Yuki's weak voice tugged him back.
He swallowed his madness and whispered back, almost to himself, "Don't listen. The Mountain isn't here. It can't take you. It can't take him."
At last, when Yuki's strength finally failed, Neil collapsed beside a jagged ridge of black stone cutting through the white. With bleeding hands, he clawed at frozen wood and broken branches buried in the snow. His knuckles split, his palms tore, but he did not stop.
By the time a crude hut of stone and timber stood, his body was failing—but his will was not. He carried Yuki inside, wrapped her in furs, and held her hand as the storm outside raged on.
Inside, another storm began.
Her cries filled the hut, raw and unrelenting. She clutched Neil's arm with such force that her nails dug into his skin, blood dripping onto the frozen ground. He did not flinch. His forehead rested against hers, his voice trembling yet steady.
"Stay with me, Yuki. Please… don't close your eyes. Don't you dare."
Hours stretched into centuries. Her screams rose and fell, blending with the storm's roar outside.
And then—
A new cry.
The voice of a newborn, fragile yet fierce. A spark of life defying a frozen, merciless world.
The first thing the child felt was cold—sharp, biting, clinging to his skin like shards of glass. The second was sound—his own wail echoing against the stone walls.
Yuki, drenched in sweat, gathered him into her arms. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, exhaustion vanishing beneath overwhelming joy. "My son… my precious son…"
Neil turned, exhaustion in his eyes, but when his gaze fell upon the child, his breath froze. His face went pale, trembling as though he had seen death itself.
Yuki noticed, panic rising. "Neil… what happened?"
He did not answer. His lips quivered as he slowly lifted a hand and pointed at the child.
Confused, Yuki wiped her tears and looked down.
Then she too froze, speechless. Her lips trembled. Her arms shook.
Because there, etched upon the newborn's body, was a mark no child of their world should bear.
It stretched long and winding, from his lower torso up across to the right side of his neck. A twisting pattern, shaped like the path of a serpent. But when they looked closer, they saw it was not one line at all—it was hundreds of tiny inky crows, each frozen mid-flight, wings spread, forming a spiraling pattern that coiled like a serpent's body.
The Shade.
Yuki's lips quivered, her eyes filling with tears of fear and sorrow. "Neil… why… why is there a Shade in our child's body?"
Neil's voice broke. "I… I don't know."
It was an impossibility. In this world, natives—those born here—never bore Shades. Only Candidates chosen by the Nightmare Castle were marked with Shades, fragments of the gods themselves. And never in all of history had a child been born carrying one.
Yet here he was. A newborn marked from birth. An anomaly so profound it defied the laws of their world.
Neil's mind spiraled. He knew what Shades meant. He had challenged the Nightmare Castle once, barely surviving its horrors. He had seen comrades devoured by Beasts, cursed by Horrors, erased by Hodlums. He had seen the Dream Bird—3rd ranked of Nightmare Mountain—fix its gaze upon him, and ever since, whispers had plagued his mind.
And now, his son… bore a Shade. A Shade no record had ever spoken of.
For a long time, the hut was silent, save for the baby's cries and the storm outside.
Then, slowly, Yuki wiped her tears, her arms tightening protectively around her son. Her voice trembled, but there was iron beneath it. "Neil… no matter what this means… he is our son. We will not let anyone take him. We will not let anyone know."
Neil's eyes, wide with fear, softened as he looked at her—at them. He knelt beside her, his hand trembling as it rested over the child's tiny form. "Yes… our secret. No one must know."
The storm outside raged, erasing their footprints, burying the world in white.
Inside, a new storm had been born.
The first cry of a child who carried a Shade. The first anomaly of a world that had long thought it understood the Nightmare Castle's laws.