The night was thick, the sky heavy with clouds that blocked the moonlight, as if trying to conceal something. In the narrow alleys, where the stench of decay mixed with the light drizzle of rain, a lone figure walked.


    No one dared approach him. It wasn’t because of his appearance—his clothes were simple, a loose white robe draping over his form—but because of the mask. A pure white mask that concealed his face entirely. But it wasn’t just a mask. It was a restraint.


    “Ranor…”


    A voice emerged from the darkness, not filled with fear as most would expect, but rather curiosity… and perhaps a hint of madness.


    The young man halted in the middle of the alley, his head slightly tilted as if listening to something inaudible to others. Moments passed in silence before he raised his head ever so slightly, as if his hidden eyes were staring right into the one who had spoken.


    “You’re late.”


    His voice was quiet, yet carried a weight that made the air itself seem to freeze.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    From the shadows stepped a tall man, his body covered in scars that told stories of battles he shouldn’t have survived. He smirked, though the expression barely masked his underlying tension.


    “Didn’t expect to find you this easily.”


    Ranor didn’t respond, merely standing still, as if he were part of the darkness itself.


    “I want to see those eyes, Ranor.”


    At those words, silence settled once more. But this time, it was different. It was heavier, as if the air had turned thick, as if time itself had slowed.


    The man raised his hand toward the mask, as if he truly believed he could remove it by force. But the moment his fingers got close…


    "Big mistake."


    The words were a whisper, yet they carried something that made the man’s entire body shudder.


    And then, without warning, his right eye exploded.


    "Aaaaaaaaaaah!!!"


    A scream of agony filled the alley, mixing with the sickening splatter of blood spraying in every direction. The man collapsed onto his knees, clutching the empty socket where his eye had once been, blood pouring between his fingers.


    Ranor remained still. He hadn’t moved an inch.


    “I warned you.”


    His words were cold, devoid of emotion. Slowly, he raised a single finger and pointed at the man, who was still writhing in pain.


    “Now…”


    There was no time to run.


    “Vanish.”


    In an instant, the man’s body convulsed violently. His remaining eye widened in absolute terror. There was no scream. There was no chance to even comprehend what was happening.


    And in a single second—he burst apart.


    There was nothing left. No bones, no flesh, no trace of his existence except for the scattered bloodstains and fragments of his torn clothing.


    Ranor stood still, not even glancing at the mess he had created. He simply turned and continued walking, as if nothing had happened.


    But deep beneath that white mask, under the cold layer of indifference… there was something else.


    Something dangerous.


    Something that had begun to awaken.


    ---


    End of Chapter 2