The helicopter touched down at the Base, the rotors kicking up a gust of artificial warmth that felt alien against Five's wind-burnt skin. The survivors weren't greeted with a reprieve; they were marched directly into a sterile, white laboratory. Rows of pods lined the walls not like the ones they had arrived in, but something far more ancient and ominous. These were engraved with jagged symbols that pulsed with a low, rhythmic violet glow. Guards forced Five into a pod. The lid slammed shut, sealing him in a vacuum. A thick, viscous fluid began to fill the chamber, smelling of ozone and rot. As the liquid covered his face, Five's consciousness slipped into the dark. He woke to the taste of copper and the roar of a thousand bees in his skull. The world had changed. The sky was a bruised, blood-red expanse. The ground was a void of black ash that crunched like bone under his boots. Then, the earth groaned. A massive crack split the horizon, and a throne rose from the depths, forged from solidified shadows. A figure sat upon it. It was a silhouette of pure darkness, a hole in reality. Five dropped into a fighting stance, his instincts screaming. The figure didn't move, yet a slight, mocking smirk flickered across its featureless face. Five flinched. In a blur faster than thought, the air itself seemed to strike him. He hit the ground, his arm snapping with a sickening pop. "What is this?" he gasped, his heart hammering against his ribs. The opponent was a god in this realm. Panic flared, but Five suppressed it. He slashed his own palm, encasing himself in a protective cocoon of blood, desperate to anchor himself to reality. It didn't matter. The cocoon shattered like glass under a single, invisible blow. Five was launched across the ashen plains. The Shadow's smirk vanished. It walked toward him, a predator bored with its prey. It leaned down, and suddenly, two azure blue eyes ignited in the darkness. The world shifted. To Five, everything became a static-filled, black-and-white silhouette. The Shadow flinched, seemingly startled by the change in Five's perception. It dashed forward, a punch aimed to end him, but the static cleared. Determination replaced fear. Five grabbed his broken arm, forcing the bone back into place and using his blood to form a rigid internal exoskeleton to hold it. He steadied his breath. The Shadow's interest piqued. It lunged. Five slammed his fist into the ground, kicking up a smokescreen of ash. He slid beneath the Shadow's reach, stabbing a blood-hardened dagger into its calf. The Shadow roared, its speed doubling. Five was pushed to the brink. A crater formed where the Shadow's fist missed his head by an inch. I have to keep up, he thought. Faster. Leaner. Lock in. He forced his mind to synchronize with the Shadow's micro-movements. The world slowed. He could see the ripple of the Void before the punch landed. But the strain was agonizing. His eyes began to weep blood, the vessels bursting from the effort. The Shadow pounced. Five parried the strike, countered with a brutal backhand, and pivoted. He gathered every ounce of strength he had left and punched the figure with a force that sent it flying back into the throne. He fell to his knees, his muscles twitching, his arms dangling like lead weights. The Shadow rose, truly enraged now. The blue eyes burned brighter. A scar opened across its right eye, a crack that spread down its body like shattering porcelain. An aura of pure malice engulfed its hand, forming a bone gauntlet. Five closed his eyes. He had nothing left. He awaited the end. Silence. Five opened his eyes to see the Shadow standing in pure shock. Its arm lay on the ground, severed. Five stood above his own mental image, clutching two crystallized blood rods. Then, his body collapsed, the crystals shattering into dust. The Shadow picked up its arm, reattaching it with a hiss of black smoke. It walked to Five and placed a single, cold finger on his forehead. Blue flames engulfed Five's vision. The pod door hissed open. Five stumbled out, gasping for air. A new mark had appeared under his left eye a jagged, dark sigil. The contract was sealed. He was no longer just a cadet. He was a Shadow. The lab was a gallery of horrors. Terrified screams echoed as other pods opened. Some cadets had successfully made their contracts; others had been rejected, their bodies undergoing horrific, twisted mutations before being "liquidated" by the guards. Five was led to a cabin. It was small, but it had a bed a luxury compared to the permafrost. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the fight. He felt a new power surging in his veins, a cold, dark energy that hummed in tune with his blood. The end of the battle was a blur. How had he cut the Shadow's arm? What had it done to him?
As sleep finally began to take him, a voice sharp, playful, and terrifyingly close whispered in his ear. "Whew, look at that damage, Honey, you need to call a plumber, because this body is a mess." Five froze. The familiar chill of the Shadow realm raced down his spine. "What do you say, 'Oracle'?" the voice continued, chuckling. "I guess I've got to start paying the rent."