The Divided Soul
last update2026-04-26 10:44:52

Won stood in front of Emma, his silhouette a long, jagged line against the moon-washed pavement. The street was empty now, the body of the drunkard having been dragged into the deeper shadows where the rats would find it. Emma sat on the cold ground, her back against a crumbling stone pillar.

Won had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes tired from months of sleepless hunting, yet focused on the girl like a hawk on a wounded rabbit.

Emma looked strangely calm now. She tucked a few loose str
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  • The Heir of the Monarch

    The entire cohort stood at the mouth of the branching tunnels. Won stole a glance at Noah, his eyes wide and vacant, but he was moving. Won didn't have time to coddle him. He raised his arm, signaling the team to split according to the plan they had discussed in hushed whispers.Ramiro nodded grimly. He didn't speak, using hand signals to confirm the divisions.Noah didn't wait for Ramiro’s instruction. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he moved to stand directly beside Won. Leo shifted back into his physical form, his invisibility fading like mist. The teams were set: Won, Leo, and Noah formed Team 1, tasked with the main central tunnel. Orson and Julie were Team 2, heading into the left passage. Ramiro and Mikasa made up Team 3, taking the right.From the maps they had managed to scrap together, they were fairly certain all three paths eventually merged into a single grand chamber. The tunnels were lined with small rooms and stone cottages, each guarded by Gnasher’s chosen knights.Ever

  • The Silence of the Seer

    When the cohort finally reached the brutal goal Ramiro had set, Won called a meeting, giving everyone a heads-up that this wouldn't be a typical strategic briefing.Everyone was present just in time, gathered in the dim light of their hideout. Won stood in the center of the circle, his expression unreadable. He looked at his friends—and spoke very casually.“Tell me, how would you feel if none of these Veynes or monsters existed anymore? What if the world went back to the way it was before all this madness started?”The question was so bizarre and out of place that it didn't even shock them. It felt like a dream being spoken aloud in a graveyard. Noah scoffed a bitter, hollow laugh and turned his face away. He clearly thought Won had finally snapped under the pressure. But Orson and Leo’s faces turned deadly serious. “Is that even possible?” Julie asked, her voice trembling slightly.Won shrugged, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. “I never said it was possible. It’s just a hypotheti

  • The Divided Soul

    Won stood in front of Emma, his silhouette a long, jagged line against the moon-washed pavement. The street was empty now, the body of the drunkard having been dragged into the deeper shadows where the rats would find it. Emma sat on the cold ground, her back against a crumbling stone pillar.Won had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes tired from months of sleepless hunting, yet focused on the girl like a hawk on a wounded rabbit.Emma looked strangely calm now. She tucked a few loose strands of blonde hair behind her ears and looked up at Won.“If I tell you everything,” she said, her voice small but steady, “do you promise to keep it within yourself?”Won raised a brow, a flicker of dark amusement crossing his face. He looked at her with a strange, mocking expression. “You think you’re in a position to ask me for a favor, Emma? You’re a spy caught in the act.”“I just don’t want the others to think of me as a betrayer,” she said, her grey eyes shimmering with a faint, desperat

  • Messenger in the Dark

    Some days flew by, the passage of time marked only by the shifting of the moon and the steady rhythm of combat. Each member of the cohort threw themselves into training, pushing their bodies to the absolute limit. Following Won’s advice, they abandoned the safer streets of the Sacred City and traveled to the Dark City ruins to hone their edges.They still didn't have a solid plan to attack Gnasher. Ramiro had set a brutal benchmark: until they could collectively kill two hundred SS-rank monsters in a single week, he wouldn't even consider them ready. They all knew the truth, though. Even if they reached that goal, the chance of killing Gnasher was barely one percent. The other ninety-nine percent was just a long, painful way to die.At one midnight, the Sacred City was silent.A girl was walking through a very narrow alley, her footsteps light against the damp stone. Even though the main part of the city was asleep, the dregs of the population were still awake. Drunkards leaned agains

  • Missing Gap

    Won and Leo lay flat on their backs in the middle of the Dark City’s desert. The sand beneath them was coarse and cold, retaining none of the day’s heat. The silence was absolute now, the violence of the foxin hunt replaced by the rhythmic sound of two pairs of lungs fighting for air.“You came here often?” Won asked, his voice barely rising above a whisper.“Not just me. Orson as well,” Leo said, finally pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I lost count of how many times we crossed into this sector just to look for you.”Won didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes fixed on the moon, feeling the weight of Leo’s words. “Won?” Leo asked after a long pause. “What did you actually do in these past five months?”Won closed his eyes, the images of blood-soaked alleys and bloody nights flashing behind his eyelids. He didn't answer. Instead, he forced a different question into the air—one that had been rotting in his mind since he first saw the monster in his visions.“It’s killing me t

  • Sharpened Edges

    Won sat at the highest point of the clock tower, his legs dangling over the edge of the weathered stone. The moon tonight was a monster of its own—a giant, luminous sphere that bathed the Sacred City in a cold, clinical glow. It was far brighter than the moon of Earth, turning the ruins into a landscape of stark whites and deep, bottomless blacks.He pulled the parchments from his cloak and spread them across his lap. He frowned as his eyes moved across the lines. The language was a mess of jagged symbols and ancient script that he couldn't even begin to translate. But the drawings... the drawings spoke for themselves.Won squinted, his stomach turning. One page depicted a circle of hooded figures, their faces obscured by shadow, feasting on slabs of raw human flesh. Another showed a row of severed heads placed meticulously before a roaring bonfire, their mouths frozen in silent screams as if they were reciting some unholy prayer.It was dark magic. Vile, ancient, and undeniably powe

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