an abandoned tunnel system long sealed off, buried beneath a mountain edge in rural Tokyo outskirts. A secret operations group known only by codenames or uniform symbols is preparing to breach.
It was 11:42 p.m.
The stars were low that night, almost wary — veiled behind clouds like children hiding under blankets. A windless silence pressed down on the forest road where black, unmarked vehicles had parked in an arc.
Beyond them lay the tunnel — rusted, half-swallowed by overgrowth, a tomb forgotten by time.
"Alright," said a voice — sharp, cheerful. "If I die, I want my body fed to a vending machine."
The group chuckled.
"Just don't trip like last time, Hiro," said a woman behind him, her voice smooth but dry with mockery.
"Trip? I dived. For science."
Hiro — tall, brown hair tied back, eyes always scanning but never quite serious — spun his weapon once over his shoulder, the straps jingling.
Beside him, Rei checked her blade — a thin, black-edge fangsteel wrapped in runic cloth.
"Focus," said the team captain, adjusting his gloves. "We're not ghost hunting. This isn't a simulation. The anomaly's reading is off the charts."
Twelve entered the tunnel.
Laughter faded with each step. The walls seemed to breathe — stale air wheezing like the lungs of something old and sick. Roots broke through the stone. The ceiling creaked with age and pressure.
After fifty meters, the lights on their helmets began to flicker.
After seventy, the comms cracked with static.
After eighty, the air turned cold enough to see breath.
"...Why does it smell like incense?" Rei whispered.
Then, just before the ninety-meter mark:
Screams.
A voice from the forward team. Not words — just raw terror.
Then the sound of metal hitting the wall. Bones cracking. Something wet splashing.
Hiro raised his gun, but too late.
From the dark — a figure ran.
One of their own. Mask shattered. Face contorted with panic. Blood on his hands.
He made it ten steps before his body seized, bloated — then exploded like a melon from within.
His blood hit Rei's cheek.
She didn't even flinch.
"---All units, stand ready!" the captain barked.
From the tunnel, something walked out.
Tall. Slender. Skin like stone. Horns bent backwards like blades.
Its mouth opened, but the voice was human.
"You called it a wound…
But we remember it as the cradle.
Now you bleed in its name."
The gunfire started.
Hiro and Rei fought back-to-back.
Jokes were gone now — only orders, cries, gunshots, and flame. The creature didn't run. It glided. And when it swung its arm, three bodies split apart like paper in water.
Its hounds followed — not beasts but human torsos crawling on hands. Eyes blinked in their throats.
Within seconds, half the squad was down. One screamed for extraction.
Too late.
Rei's blade cut deep into one of the hounds. She twisted — ducked — cried Hiro's name.
He was bleeding.
A long black gash stretched from his ribs to hip.
She ran for him — but the creature was already there, arm raised.
"A gift. For your kind."
As it brought its blade-like limb down, time seemed to slow.
And then—
A sound.
A thud — no, a shockwave — as the creature was flung backwards, crashing through a metal wall and out of sight, like something had punched it from above.
Everyone froze.
The remaining hounds hissed and fled.
Silence returned.
Dust fell.
Eyes turned.
At the edge of the ruined tunnel, where fog still danced in the moonlight… stood a figure.
Barefoot.
Covered in rags.
A long shadow stretched behind him, hiding his face.
The moonlight caught only the gleam of something beneath the cloth — a strange metallic glint across the arm.
He said nothing.
He simply stood… as if he had always been there.
Watching.