The morning was colder than usual.
Fog clung low to the ground,
wrapping the dead leaves like a burial shroud.
Reymond stood near the supply station,
strapping his blade to his hip
when a voice broke the silence.
"Hey… you Reymond?"
He turned.
A young man, barely in his twenties, approached.
Wiry frame.
Soft features trying to look hardened.
An eager flame in his eyes that hadn't been snuffed out yet.
"Yeah," Reymond replied. "You my partner?"
Jake nodded. "Name's Jake. Fresh recruit—same as you."
Reymond studied him.
"How long have you been here?"
"A few weeks," Jake said, adjusting his gear.
"My story's the same as most. A loved one was taken by those suckers."
"Have you killed one?"
Jake hesitated, jaw tightening.
"No. Not yet."
"I had an encounter once. My body just… froze. Couldn't move. Couldn't scream."
"One of the council members pulled me out. That's why I'm still here."
He gave a half smile.
"I work with the Investigation Department now. I may not be a fighter, but I still want to end them."
Reymond gave a faint nod.
"I don't judge you."
His voice dropped into something darker.
"Those things… they don't just scare you. They crawl into your skin. Paralyze you from the inside out."
Jake's smile faded.
They both knew the truth in those words.
Later that morning, they arrived at a reported sighting zone—
a stretch of forest near the old mill road.
Quiet. Abandoned. The air felt heavier than usual.
The local police had cordoned off a patch of soil.
Blood splattered across leaves,
a dark trail leading into the woods.
"Bear attack," the officer muttered.
"Most likely."
But Reymond and Jake knew better.
The blood was wrong.
Too much for a bear mauling.
And too clean in some places—like it had been poured, not spilled.
They moved deeper into the trees.
That's when Jake pointed upward.
"There."
Reymond followed his finger.
On a nearby tree,
three massive claw marks were etched into the bark.
Deep. Uneven. Spaced too wide apart.
"No bear made that," Jake muttered.
He knelt beside the tree, eyes scanning every inch of the area—
footprints, disturbed moss, broken twigs.
He was fast, meticulous.
Like a surgeon dissecting a mystery.
"You're good at this," Reymond said, almost surprised.
Jake smirked.
"Sherlock Holmes of monsters. That's what they call me."
Reymond gave a rare smirk in return.
Further into the woods, Jake found something else—
a torn piece of clothing, and more blood,
but no drag marks.
"It didn't move the body," Jake whispered.
"It waited for the victim to collapse."
He pulled a small field scanner from his coat—
one of the Order's tools that reacted to supernatural energy.
It flickered red—low but steady.
"There was something here," Jake said.
"But it didn't stay long."
Back at Umbra Hall, they presented their report to the council.
Jake stood at the front, papers and evidence in hand.
"Based on the claw spacing, absence of a kill site, and the residual imprint," he explained,
"I believe we're dealing with a Lingerin."
The council murmured.
Reymond frowned.
"What's a Lingerin?"
Jake turned toward him.
"A type of Unknown that can only see you when your eyes are open."
"It feeds on awareness. Stays invisible until you acknowledge it… and once you do—"
He made a slashing motion across his neck.
"You're already dead."
Reymond's fists clenched.