The air in this nd is not to be inhaled, but swallowed. The streets are broken, the houses empty, and the sound of the wind seems to whisper the names of those who have died. The trees have withered, and the walls are stained with the marks of a past that refuses to be forgotten. In every corner, a shadow watches, and in every silence, a story goes untold.

  I… don’t know my real name. Everyone calls me Elden now. I may be lucky to still be alive, or cursed for not having died yet.

  My emotions are at war inside me… anger and sorrow tear at me every time I take a step in this cold hell. I don’t know if I’m walking toward something… or running from something else.

  And that night, which was no different from the others, I heard a sound… faint… soft… fearful.

  “Please, don’t come near the door… It’s watching us tonight more than ever before…”

  I stood before a broken wooden door, its paint long gone, and behind it… was Leta.

  I didn’t see her face, but she was there… speaking to me from behind the wood, her voice that of a woman worn by fear, but still holding the courage to warn me.

  “It’s the moon, this night… It’s hungry tonight… Please, don’t look at it for too long… And close your eyes if you hear the whisper.”

  I hesitated for a moment.

  It was as if the pce itself was urging me to turn away, to go back from where I came, but her voice pulled me in… not just her words, but the way she said them, as if she knew something no one else did.

  “Why don’t you open the door?” I asked.

  She was silent, and then her voice came weaker than before, as though she were crying without tears.

  “Because I saw what the moon does… to those who open their doors.”

  Her second silence was longer than the first, before she added, her voice trembling:

  “My brother… went out one night to see who was knocking… There was nothing left of him… only his shadow, his shadow still stands at the threshold to this day.”

  I stood there, staring at the door, unsure of what to do. My body wanted to leave, but my heart was caught in her words. There was a strange plea in her voice, a mix of a mother’s fear and a sister’s love.

  “Have you seen them?” I asked her finally.

  She replied, “We don’t see them… they see us.”

  I raised my head, looking at the sky. The moon hung there, rge, swollen, spilling with the color of blood… as if the entire world was drowning in a crime yet to be confessed.

  Then I heard her say:

  “If you still pn to stay, shelter yourself somewhere enclosed. Tonight… no one survives in the open.”

  Before I could respond, I heard a lock turn behind the door, then silence.

  I continued walking, the shadows behind me seemed to walk with me, copying my steps but in a different rhythm… as though I were always one step ahead of my death.

  The houses had disappeared, repced by ruins, half-colpsed walls, and a single roof hanging in a desperate hope that it would fall.

  And then…

  Faint sounds, like muffled cries, began to seep from the stones. I thought they were just the sounds of the wind, until I saw the first one.

  A thin creature, its skin grayish, walking on all fours, its face featureless… only a wide mouth filled with twisted teeth grinding in hunger.

  Then came the second…

  And the third…

  From every corner, lifeless eyes opened as though the earth itself had begun bleeding its nightmares.

  I drew my sword. It wasn’t heavy, but it carried the weight of a past I couldn’t forget. My grip on it was tight, yet inside, something yearned for blood.

  The first monster leaped.

  In a single strike, I split its chest in half. It writhed, as if protesting its death, then dissolved into ash as though it was made of it.

  The second was faster. It grazed my shoulder before I stabbed it from under its jaw, the bde piercing through its head.

  I began to feel… the heat. Not pleasure, but something closer to longing. As if I was born for this.

  Three fell, but one didn’t move.

  It was taller than the others, its skin fyed, twisted horns on its head. Its eyes bled white light.

  It stepped toward me… and in its cracked voice, it whispered:

  “You… are not one of us… but you carry our blood.”

  I stopped for a second. I didn’t understand… what blood? And why did I feel as though the earth itself had listened to its words?

  Before I could answer, it attacked.

  I drove my sword into its eye, its scream exploded through the air, a blinding white light that almost blinded me… My body could no longer take it.

  The air around me began to cool… and my chest grew heavy.

  My knees buckled… I fell to the ground. My vision blurred… everything trembled as if the earth itself rejected me.

  But before I could lose consciousness, I saw something… or someone.

  A figure cloaked in bck. No features, no sound.

  In its hand, a long staff, which it struck against the ground…

  The shadows moved toward it, as if they knew it… or feared it.

  The monster I had stabbed lifted its head slowly, before that staff touched it…

  With a single touch, its body turned to liquid ash.

  Then, it looked at me.

  Or perhaps, it looked at me.

  I don’t know…

  All I know is that I heard a voice whisper in my ear, a soft, calm voice:

  “You haven’t died… not yet.”

  And then… darkness.