The night was coming to an end.
But inside Iren, the night had not stopped.
He stood at the edge of the rooftop,
looking out over the city.
There were lights. There were people—
yet something was missing.
Meaning.
The name he had heard last night—
Night Collector—
wasn't spinning in his head.
Instead, one question kept circling:
If I am only the night,
then who does the day belong to?
The Doll was silent.
Too silent.
Iren could feel it—
this silence was not a command.
It was waiting.
In the morning, he had breakfast with his family.
His mother was talking.
His father was reading the news.
Iren nodded as he listened.
He even smiled.
But in between—
there was an empty space.
He realized
he now lived in two places.
One body here.
Another somewhere that didn't exist.
At the academy, the day felt normal.
Unnaturally normal.
No one pushed him.
No one spoke to him.
When fear is given a name,
people learn distance.
He noticed a boy—
hands trembling,
eyes lowered.
Iren said nothing.
He no longer wanted to teach.
Because he had learned—
fear teaches on its own.
Before going out at night,
he stood in front of the mirror.
Looked into his eyes.
With these eyes,
he sees inside others—
cracks,
intent,
lies.
But inside himself—
he sees nothing.
"Am I empty?"
he asked himself.
No answer came.
Only a feeling—
as if within the darkness
there was more darkness.
And there—
someone was waiting.
He went out.
Tonight's target was nothing new.
A criminal.
Human trafficking.
Blood.
Iren did not hesitate.
But when the work was done—
as he reached to collect the soul,
for a single moment
his hand stopped.
Because he felt it—
this soul was not afraid.
There was no regret either.
Only duty.
As if it had accepted death
long before dying.
Iren did not pull harder.
He knows—
where a soul is already bound,
force is wasted.
He stepped back.
The night noticed.
So did the Doll.
On the way back,
Iren felt—
today, he had not become stronger.
But he had become deeper.
The final step of the Vein level
passed silently.
No light.
No announcement.
Only one truth remained—
he is no longer just killing people.
He is learning to avoid something.
And avoidance
is the most dangerous habit of all.
Iren stood at the rooftop again.
Dawn was rising.
He whispered—
"I don't know what I am."
The Doll did not answer.
But within the darkness,
it felt as if someone
had come a little closer.
Chapter-end line:
He is beginning to understand—
the darkness is not calling him.
The darkness is waiting,
as if one day
he himself will open
the wrong door.