The fog clung to the Yumihara Valley like a living thing—dense, shifting, murmuring across the moss-covered stones. Even at dawn, the air felt stale, as though the night had refused to release its grip. Ren Arashida tightened his scarf and adjusted his pack as he crossed the makeshift scaffold leading into the excavation pit.
The world above was pale and quiet.
The world below waited for him.
Ayaka Mori stood near the rope ladder, brushing dirt from her gloves. Her dark braid hung neatly down her back, though Ren knew she rebraided it multiple times a day. A nervous habit. Something dependable in a place full of the unknown.
"You're early," she said as he descended the last few rungs.
"You're earlier," he replied.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
They shared a look—soft, tired, relieved. This valley had a way of draining people, but Ayaka still managed a smile that felt like sunlight squeezing through storm clouds.
She motioned toward the central slab, still half-buried, still pulsing faintly beneath layers of dust that should've kept it dormant. "The readings from last night… they haven't stopped."
Ren swallowed. "Still pulsing?"
"Worse. It's like it synced with something."
A chill moved up Ren's spine. He didn't tell her the truth: the heartbeat he felt now was the same rhythm that had throbbed behind his ribs since he touched the stone.
As they approached the slab, Hiro Sato jogged over, goggles pushed up onto his brow. Dust smeared across his cheeks like warpaint.
"Morning!" he said, too loudly for such a cursed-feeling place. "The scanners are going crazy again. The energy spikes are off the charts."
Ren arched a brow. "Define 'off the charts.'"
"Like… if the chart were a house, the readings moved to a different city."
Ayaka sighed. "Hiro, that tells us nothing."
He grinned sheepishly. "High. Very high. That better?"
Before Ren could reply, Professor Daiki Kurogane emerged from a tent, leaning heavily on a cane. His eyes—dark, old, too knowing—surveyed the team with the grimness of someone who had expected this exact disaster for decades.
He approached the slab without a word. The mist seemed to part around him.
"Professor," Ren said. "The markings grew brighter again."
"I can see that, Arashida." Kurogane's voice was low, almost reverent. "The Ninth Seal reacts only to chosen blood. And it reacts… strongly."
Ren stiffened. "Chosen…?"
Kurogane did not answer him. Instead, he lowered himself slowly and placed a trembling hand near the stone—never touching, only hovering.
As though he feared it would bite.
The slab pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then a whisper—not a sound, but an idea—passed through Ren's mind.
—You returned.
He staggered, catching himself on a support beam.
Ayaka immediately leaned forward. "Ren? What is it?"
"I… thought I heard something." His throat felt dry. "Never mind. It's nothing."
Hiro frowned. "Is anyone else getting chills or am I dying?"
"You're fine," Ayaka muttered.
"Aw, thanks for checking," Hiro said.
But Ren barely heard them. The whisper lingered like phantom breath along his ear, and the slab glowed brighter when he stepped closer.
Kurogane watched him—too intently.
"Ren," the professor murmured. "Perhaps you should—"
The ground shuddered.
Everyone froze.
The slab split down the center, glowing fissures racing across its surface like lightning veins. Dust exploded upward. The mist recoiled. A deep, suffocating silence swallowed the world.
Ayaka stepped in front of Ren without hesitation, body tense, eyes sharp. "What's happening?!"
Kurogane's cane cracked against the ground. "Back! All of you—back!"
But it was too late.
Something stirred beneath the broken slab. A dark pressure—heavy, ancient, hungry—pressed against Ren's chest like a hand trying to crush his heart.
The whisper returned.
—My seal… my soul… my vessel.
Ren clutched his temples as visions slammed into him:
A moon dripping black.A shrine swallowed by shadows.Nine eyes opening in the void.
His breath hitched. The darkness reached for him, stretching like living smoke.
Ayaka grabbed his arm. "Ren! Stay with me! Ren!"
Her voice steadied the spiral in his skull—barely. Through the haze, Ren saw a shape rising from the cracked stone.
A shard.
Black as night.
Pulsing like a second heart.
Kurogane gasped. "No… the Ninth Fragment…"
Hiro stared, unblinking. "Is that… is that a rock? Please tell me that's just a rock."
Ayaka hissed, "Hiro, shut up."
The stone levitated, rotating slowly in the air. Its glow intensified—dark light, impossibly deep, as though it swallowed lantern fire instead of reflecting it.
Then, without warning, it shot forward.
Straight at Ren.
He didn't even have time to move.
The shard slammed into his chest with a crack of spiritual force. Ren was thrown backward, hitting the ground hard. The world twisted into spirals of black and white. His vision collapsed into a tunnel of shadows.
He couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Could only hear the merging of two heartbeats—his and something else's.
—Seal IX accepted.—Fragment restored.—Host awakened.
A monstrous silhouette loomed behind his eyes. Kuro-Obake. But not fully formed—just the shadow of a shadow. Watching him with hunger. With recognition.
Ayaka's hands cupped his face. "Ren! Look at me! Ren!"
Her voice fought the darkness trying to swallow him. Slowly, painfully, he latched onto it. She felt warm. Human. Real. The only thing that didn't feel like it wanted to consume him.
The shard burrowed deeper into him with a thunderous throb.
Ren screamed.
Light burst from his chest—dark, swirling, violent. The mist recoiled, snapping outward in a shockwave. Hiro dove behind equipment. Kurogane shielded his face. Ayaka refused to let go.
The force died suddenly.
Ren slumped into Ayaka's arms, gasping.
His heartbeat was wrong—too strong… too old… too synchronized with something far beyond him.
Ayaka's breath trembled. "Ren… your eyes… they're glowing."
He blinked.
A faint ring of shadow flickered in his irises before fading.
Kurogane approached, face pale. "Arashida… the Ninth Seal has chosen you. There is no turning back now."
Ren's voice cracked. "What… what does that mean?"
"It means," the professor whispered, "the god has touched your soul."
Hiro peeked from behind a supply crate. "I'm sorry—the what has touched his what?!"
Ren staggered to his feet, still gripping Ayaka's arms for balance. The valley felt different. Sharper. Too vivid. The mist whispered. The ruins watched. The shadows stretched toward him like eager hands.
Inside him, something smiled.
—We begin, my vessel.
His skin crawled.
Ayaka stepped closer, defiant. "Ren won't be anyone's vessel."
The whisper laughed.
—We shall see.
A cold wind cut across the valley, carrying the faint scent of moonlight and perfume.
Far beyond the ridge, unseen by all but the flicker in Ren's senses, a woman in pale robes lingered in the mist. Silver hair drifting. Eyes soft with longing.
Yurei Kisaragi traced her fingers through the fog, drawing his name in the air.
"Ren…" she breathed. "Come find me again."
Ren shivered.
Something inside him answered.