Mikel perched on a broken pile of rubble beside his ghost neighbor, Arthur. Surrounded by the ruins, the smoke remnants of last night's chaos, and the eerie silence of the once poor yet lively neighborhood.
Both of them watched the little girl playing in the middle of the ruins, her stuffed bunny dangling from her small grip. She looked lively—if not for the torn side of her body.
"I came back for her," Arthur sighed, his bitter smile deepening as he watched his daughter. "But everything happened so fast. The ceiling gave way before I even realized it. I couldn't save her… or myself."
Mikel cast the man a sidelong glance. His fingertip trembled slightly, and he clenched his hand to steady it. He looked away, huffing sharply—the only release he could manage for the pressure building in his chest.
[It is not your fault, Master.]
He glanced at the message but chose to look away.
A part of him wanted to blame himself for the deaths of these people. They weren't just random passersby. They were his neighbors—people he had known. Mikel should've realized that, especially after seeing familiar faces last night at the evacuation center. But he'd chosen to ignore it.
Only now did he understand that even if he tried to forget, life had its way of reminding him—again and again—of every action and its aftermath. Life would not let him forget, and the consequences weren't always kind… not in this world.
"Sorry," he whispered, casting the man a quick glance.
The man smiled gently, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening. "It's not your fault."
Mikel scoffed. That was what everyone said, but…
If it hadn't been for Mikel, that Blighted wouldn't have come into this area and wreaked havoc.
That being said… there were others responsible, too.
"Maybe the only comfort I have is that neither of us—especially her—felt any pain," Arthur continued, his voice caught between relief and uncertainty.
Mikel studied the man's side profile before finally asking, "Does she know?"
"That she's…"
"Passed," Mikel interrupted, making Arthur smile faintly.
It was a simple word correction, but somehow, it made a huge difference.
"She's smart," Arthur sighed, shifting his gaze back to his daughter. His eyes softened with both affection and regret. "She realized it before I did. She's glad she's not alone—at least."
It sounded blunt—maybe even insensitive—but she was a child. What else could they expect besides brutal honesty?
"My wife, though…" He ran a hand over his face and cast his eyes downward. "I don't know how she'll accept all of this. I'm worried about her and our two boys."
She'll be fine — that's what Mikel wanted to say. But he knew how hollow those words were.
He had lost someone before. He knew, as someone who once stood in Arthur's wife's shoes, that being fine wasn't even on the list.
"It's a surprise, though," Arthur continued, shifting the heavy mood with a lighter tone and turning to Mikel. "I thought you'd be scared when she tried to help you, but you… You can see us. I didn't know you had that ability."
His brows lifted as he studied the teen's mismatched eyes. "What happened to your eyes?"
"Got into an accident," Mikel shrugged, unsurprised that Arthur didn't know the details of his life.
They were neighbors, yes, but not close. They barely exchanged nods in passing. As ironic as it was, this was the first real conversation they'd ever had—not when Arthur was alive.
"Your wife… I think I saw her in the evac center with your boys," Mikel added. "You should go to her."
"We can't."
Mikel arched a brow. "Why's that?"
"For some reason, we can't leave the area."
Mikel blinked. That didn't make sense. He clearly remembered some ghosts last night acting like evacuees without any issues.
[Scanning…]
[Detected: Anchored Souls]
[Description: Generally harmless spirits, unable to move beyond the location of their passing. Whether tied by lingering guilt, unfinished business, or deep trauma, Anchored Souls are bound to specific locations by emotional gravity. Either unaware of their death or unable to accept it.
Some seek closure, others stay for personal reasons, but all are trapped in a loop between death and deliverance.]
[Warning: While Anchored Souls may be harmless, if left too long in one place, they risk corruption from the instability of the worlds they should've left.]
[Potential Mutation: Haunting Spirits]
The more Mikel encountered the supernatural, the more he felt the world just kept expanding around him.
Arthur smiled wryly. "I know it's shameful, considering we barely know each other… but can you do me a favor, son?"
"..." Mikel didn't respond right away. He just studied the man.
"Can you… tell my wife that…" Arthur trailed off, the weight of everything unsaid settling between them.
How much he loved her. How lucky he was to have her. How sorry he was for not being there to raise their boys… There were a thousand things he wished he could tell the woman he never wanted to leave behind. But…
Arthur lifted his gaze, smiling in quiet defeat. "Tell her we're fine."
"Uh…" Mikel thought for a second, looking away from him and toward the little girl hopping from rock to rock. "I don't think I can do that."
"But—"
"Why don't you?" Mikel shot him a side glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. "You've got a lot more to say than 'we're fine,' don't you?"
Surprise washed over Arthur's face. Even as a ghost, his breath hitched.
Doom, on the other hand, groaned in Mikel's head.
[Just exorcise him.]
Mikel rested his arms on his knees, then stretched one hand forward, palm up.
"Book," he said.
Space warped above his palm—a slit tearing through reality like the page of a book—and the grimoire dropped neatly into his waiting hand.
Arthur blinked. "How did you… do that?"
"Heh. Learned a few tricks," Mikel clicked his tongue, almost smug, before flipping through the book. But midway, he paused and glanced at Arthur again.
"By the way, do you know of any other ghosts around here who can do what your daughter did?"
"You mean… touch things?"
Mikel nodded. "Anyone around here like that? Also, maybe you know an engineer or someone like that?"
Arthur looked puzzled as Mikel pointed at the ruins of his home.
"I'm planning to fix the house," Mikel explained, his mouth stretching into a wide grin until his teeth showed. "Can't afford contractors, so I figured… might as well host the neighborhood's last community service."
Arthur blinked again, realization washing over him like the morning sun.
"So that's why… you were laughing."