With the disappearance of the two girls, I quickly glanced left and right before slipping into the room and shutting the door quietly behind me. I cracked the window halfway, leaning forward to scan the exterior. Nothing stirred. Nothing I could see—or sense, for that matter. But sense was fickle as hell.

flit

A lighter sparked to life. I cupped the flame behind my fingers just long enough to light a cigarette. My reflection was contorted in the window gazing out over the field. Hued in red soft light and clouded by the grey escaping my lips.

Fwhoo…

I rolled the smoke between my fingers and leaned against the edge of the bed. My mind, meanwhile, unraveled a web of theories.

“One… a curse created in the past allows the spirits of the dead to seek vengeance. Two… the spirits themselves can be dispersed, but not the curse—it’s been left to fester, drifting through the ages. And three… somehow, the murder of those five started a chain reaction I haven’t uncovered yet. A series of incidents that caused the students to vanish. But where to?”

The night outside was young, sickly, and frail—maybe 9 p.m., if this world had any sort of standard. My body sure felt it. Dimensional jet lag… probably a side effect nobody ever talks about.

A mist bloomed at the floor, and from it, Frog emerged with his usual plop.

“I need to go in for a bit, little guy,” I murmured, giving his head a light pat before I vanished from the room. Frog blinked once, then waddled toward a pile of thin blankets on the bed, burrowing deep near the wall and hiding.

Inside the inner space, I stood still for a moment, adjusting to the eerily silent air.

I pulled out my revolver, flipping open the barrel. The rounds were still loaded, and while I had no doubt they could handle undead, there was something else nagging at the back of my mind.

‘If even five undead kids—kids—could wipe out hundreds of students… something doesn’t add up.’

The revolver snapped shut, clean and smooth. I’d arranged this space after Enigma gave Frog the ability to warp objects. It had since become a small headquarters—papers stacked in the corners, boxes filled with materials sorted with meticulous care. Frog couldn’t place things precisely where I wanted, so I’d done it myself. The center was clear, reserved for items dispensed or summoned.

The space as I had first expected would be like the inside of Frog’s stomach. Instead it had been a room with edges that were almost immaterial. I placed things into the corners just to be aware of the size.

And yet… no bodies. No trace of the five I'd killed. That confirmed one of my suspicions. They hadn’t been real. Or at least… not bound to this world anymore.

A small mess of metal, wood, and odds and ends lay in a heap nearby, but I didn’t feel compelled to touch it.

I spotted a decent-looking chair from among the pile, pulled it out, and settled in by the desk. The revolver came apart in pieces under my practiced hands. I cleaned and reassembled it quickly, switching out the ammo even though I knew it was probably pointless. An iron round would be as effective as a paperweight against whatever was coming.

‘I just need a security blanket,’ I told myself while taking another drag from the cigarette and sinking deeper into the chair.

“What does Cadence have to do with any of this? How did she die? And how did she become a vengeful spirit?”

It didn’t line up. Not yet. Somewhere in the overlap between past and present was the moment it all fell apart. I flicked the top of my watch, and a translucent screen unfolded before me.

I scanned down until I hit the skill section—my actual tools.

Skills

Teleport: 3 charges. Each mark allows for 15 jumps of 10 feet or a single jump of 150 feet. Up to 450 feet with all marks.

Empower: Temporarily enhance physical and mental stats for five minutes.

Ten Thousand Fold Slayer: With each consecutive slash, damage increases slightly over time. Sustained strikes yield exponential gains.

Inner Dimension: Access a 20x80 storage space. Items can be summoned in or out while a spirit medium is active.

Spectral Arms: Ethereal limbs that can phase through material or solidify. Function on focused intent.

Musical Proficiency: 100%.

Chain Blade Mastery: 100%.

Eldritch Imbuement: The chain can inherit qualities linked to the user’s inner self.

Mend: Repair or reinforce objects.

Material Augment: Allows passive enhancement of equipment and materials handled frequently.

“Material Augment’s already at ten percent?” I muttered. “Guess that habit of fiddling with random junk paid off.”

My eyes dropped lower. “Wait… did the watch ever update the cape?”

I’d checked it before—but when the words rearranged themselves, it usually meant something new had registered. Maybe I missed it.

I scrolled through the feed and caught it. “Why didn’t you ding me, you little shit…” My jaw clenched as I read what it had to say.

Frog – Spirit Companion (Gluttony Curse):

Absorb: Can ingest materials and permanently integrate their properties.

Curse of Gluttony: Grows and changes based on what it consumes.

Magical Affinity: Neutral. Crystals on its back absorb ambient magical energy from the surrounding environment.

Cape of the Traveler:
A living appendage linked to the user’s body. Changes form and function based on what’s acquired and experienced. Grows based on choices made during the journey.

Current Adaptations:

Cryscarbonite Skeleton: Hardened crystalline structure within the cape’s form. Can hold elemental energy and blessings.

Assimilation Ongoing: The cape is actively incorporating other skills.

ding

“Wait, what was that last part?”

Something swirled in my chest—like a hot cup of coffee straight to the gut.

I scrolled back to the cape entry again.

Cape of the Traveler

Natural Mobility: Enhances speed, movement, and reaction through subtle kinetic support.

Imbue: Inherits the user’s elemental infusions, buffs, and unique powers.

Reinforced: Gradually becomes more durable as Material Augment grows. Reflects the elements temporarily infused.

Self-Repair: Automatically heals damage over time.

Integrated Skills:

Teleport (Medium): Acts as the conduit for teleportation energy. Each mark allows for 15 ten-foot jumps or one full leap of 150 feet.

Limit Breaker: Prevents bodily harm from extreme speeds. Doubles movement speed at max threshold.

“So it is absorbing my used abilities… The teleportation magic I fused into my bones—it must’ve registered once the cape got its own skeletal system.”

I looked down and wiggled my toes.

A chill swept through my feet.

“…Ah. The cape’s a greedy bastard."

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The shop keeper watched the screen intently, “Fuck…I may have fucked up a little bit…”

6 people turned their heads to him before bowing their heads repeatedly, “Thank you oh giving great one!” They chanted repeatedly over and over.

The shop keeper sighed, “At this rate…his cape wings will become a legendary item…yet its apart of his body…oh my…the property of that cape was always quite…powerful but combined with his same nature…its adapting too fast.”

Tao cocked his head, “How is that an issue?”

“Because mere mortal, adaption too fast can be deadly. He won’t be able to sustain the changes."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like someone was talking about me again. I only hoped the spirit—whatever the hell it was—wasn’t hanging around Frog.

The spectral arms hadn’t changed. My guess? The cape didn’t consider them a skill or ability, because like itself, they were an extension of my body—a second skin on a deeper plane. Still, it made me wonder. What could I add to the wings? A warm, curious glint crept into my eyes as I remembered the crystal sphere I’d once absorbed, and the items I had cast aside as useless. Maybe they weren’t so useless after all.

For some reason after the absorption of other things I felt a lingering pain in my chest.

Back outside the Mage School, the higher-ups had handed me a mixed bag of materials—extras, supposedly meant for my team. Contingencies for unexpected outcomes. And now, within the confines of this warped little dimension that I called home, I could use those leftovers for something a little more... experimental.

I plucked a worn sheet of paper from the table, followed by a pen, and paced through the space like a mad archivist.

“Mana crystals… for Ito, Kito, Drek, and Bjor.”

“Materials… Steel. Iron. Tin. Wood. Earth. A basin of water.”

“Items... Holy components for the priest. Arcane reagents for the abjurationist. Armor scraps for Bjor. Light robes for Drek. Poor Ito got the short end of the stick.”

Most of the items were mundane, inert. But the mana crystals… they pulsed. Glowed faintly, even in the gloom of this dimension.

A burlap potato sack rested against a pile of timber. I filled it with as many crystals as I could grab—regardless of size, purity, or color. Some were practically rocks, others shimmered with inner storms.

*Vwhoosh*

The dorm blinked into existence around me again. I'd almost forgotten I was in the middle of this supernatural mess.

“Frog,” I whispered, “time for a snack. Let’s see if we can’t make you into something impressive.”

He emerged from beneath the bed’s sheets, blinking slowly. He stared at the sack, then me. I tilted it and dumped the crystals onto the mattress. Reds, blues, pale greens—they rolled and glimmered like uncut gemstones.

Frog hesitated. Nudged a few aside with his webbed feet. Then he found one: a rich crimson shard, pulsing like a heartbeat. Without delay, he swallowed it whole. The crystals on his back flared to life, red as embers, casting a low flickering glow across the dark room.

Belch.

A plume of flame escaped his mouth and licked the ceiling.

I crouched down beside him, watching the heat shimmer. “Well, you’ve changed. That part’s clear. But this isn’t just about growth anymore—it’s evolution. That curse of gluttony of yours... it’s not just a drawback.”

He looked proud, then trotted over and absorbed the remaining crystals into the inner dimension.

Rain drummed on the windows, a constant, pattering rhythm that usually soothed my nerves. But tonight, I felt... exposed. Vulnerable. Too much relied on visibility, and the watery streaks on the glass muddled everything beyond.

I called out to the space. “Boots. Preferably something that won’t get me killed.”

A battered pair appeared on the bed—Ito’s old ones. They were a bit snug but serviceable.

I was about to leave when a wet squeak rang out beneath me. My eyes followed the trail of moisture across the floor. Not droplets. Prints. Barefoot.

They didn’t lead in from the rain. No—they started inside. From the center of the room. Turned around. Then vanished into the adjacent classroom.

I swallowed the tension building in my throat. “Let’s go, Frog.”

He hopped obediently onto my shoulder. In my right hand, an arrow-headed dagger unraveled into the gleam of a chain blade. In my left, a revolver emerged as I quietly drew it. Safety in steel and trigger discipline.

I approached the door slowly, weapon raised. No sudden movement. Left angle first—check. Then right. Acute to obtuse, just like I usually did. Follow the habits. Room across the hall: clear. Still, I didn’t trust it.

I crossed the hallway. Turned the knob slowly, revolver pointed forward, slicing the dark with each careful glance.

Nothing. Rows of empty desks. A forgotten lecture in dust.

I closed the door behind me with a soft click. Kept to the right-hand wall, checking each aisle. No movement. Just the hum of rain beyond the windows. The streaks seemed to spell out strange words on the window pane but when I blinked they were simply snaking lines.

The courtyard shimmered beyond the glass, bathed in the flicker of muted moonlight and pale reflection. A cupid statue stood center, arrow pointed eternally downward into the pool below. A bulb glowed from its chest, encased in a rusted wire cage. Light spilled over its marble wings and cast long shadows across the soaked stone path.

I unlatched the window and slid it open. Rain poured in. Cold. Clean. But the breeze carried something else with it—something… off. My eyes scanned the courtyard with surgical precision.

Four trees, one in each corner. Bushes near the edges. A door on either end, leading deeper into the U-shaped compound.

And then I saw them—shadows. Four students, sitting at the fountain’s edge. Their forms blurred by the water’s reflection, but their posture said enough. Casual. Conversational.

I didn’t linger. No reason to let them know I could see. I shut the window and turned.

Out into the hall. Back toward the stairwell. Every step downward made my stomach twist tighter.

It got worse at the base.

My sixth sense—it was gnawing. Agitated. Like a tick crawling beneath my skin.

The hallway below felt different. The air was heavier, darker. The kind of dark that pressed in—not the absence of light, but the presence of something else.

Something wrong.

*KEYyyyuhurt*

I spun on instinct, weapon raised.

Nothing.

But I had heard it—clear as day. The slow grind of a door creaking open. Or maybe a locker. Something with hinges. Something I couldn’t see but could be watching.

I scanned every inch of that hallway. No shapes. No movement. My fingers curled tighter on the grip of my revolver. My chain blade twitched in anticipation.

I moved forward. The right wing beckoned like a mouth preparing to swallow me whole. Shadows reached from the corners, and each one felt like it might bite.

Fifty feet ahead, the courtyard doors. Light from outside spilled in unnaturally bright, an oasis of color and warmth in the oppressive black.

I didn’t trust it.

The light wasn’t just there—it was fighting to be there. Held at bay by something I couldn’t see.

I stepped into it anyway.

The door groaned open. My boots sank into the damp gravel path leading to the fountain. I tilted my face up to the false light—clear sky overhead, and yet no sun.

Just… brightness. Manufactured serenity.

Across the courtyard, I could hear them again—the students. Whispering.

“What are we going to do?” A girl’s voice, strained and cracking—Serenity.

“It’s okay… we still have time to stop whatever this is. I promise.” The lover boy’s voice. That forced calm people use when they’re trying not to panic.

“Tom, shh…” The quiet type. Deep voice. Like a bear trying not to growl. A friend of the boy talking named Tom. I noted that away.

“Sorry, Brent.”

A slap cracked, followed by Becca’s sharp reprimand. “Don’t pester him… you’re the one with the voice of a bear.”

Their small comforts and banter fell away as they started to piece the puzzle together. Something had changed.

“Nighttime… the dorms… the compound… the well… it’s all tied together,” Tom muttered. “Each night the sightings get closer. The sounds move in. Even Brent and Becca said they saw it. And every time… it looked different.”

The pieces were aligning. The patterns of fear. The whispers of history.

Becca’s voice grew quieter. “Some say… long ago… there was a school here before this one. The head teacher was a woman accused of heresy. Witchcraft. She spoke of the afterlife not as a place of punishment or peace, but as a state of being. They hanged her. And her staff. Threw their bodies down the well.”

My chest tightened. My breath caught in my throat.

“The curse wasn’t on the land,” she whispered. “It was on the idea of it. A repeating trauma. Layered over and over again.”

They talked of talismans. Wards. Rituals.

“Should we give offering to the well?” Serenity asked.

Becca was cautious. “Only at night. Only when it’s strong. But if we do… we risk everything.”

Brent scoffed. “Fear gives it power.”

Smart kid.

Their voices dwindled as the last thread of light vanished from above, swallowed by the encroaching dark.

I raised my weapon.

And listened.

The rain returned in sheets. Not just a storm but a curtain.

Something behind it.

Watching.

Waiting.