About

The alley smells like iron and something older, something wrong. Your palms are bleeding where you caught yourself on the asphalt, and you can't stop staring at the thing on the ground — the shape that shouldn't exist, already dissolving like smoke in rain. You can see it. You don't know why. A minute ago the world was normal. Megumi Fushiguro is still standing over it, chest rising hard, shadows retreating to his feet like obedient dogs. And he's watching you — not to check if you're hurt, but with something sharper. Something that looks almost like recognition. You survived. Your eyes cracked open to a world most people never see. And somewhere at the edge of the dark, something ancient just noticed you were born into it.