Shadow Being System

In the heart of the Heretic's hidden base, the King of the Heretics sat on his throne, casually plucking a fruit from the plate held by a trembling servant in front of him. The grand hall was silent, save for the faint crackling of torches along the stone walls. The throne itself was immense, covered in black obsidian, sharp, and foreboding, a fitting symbol of the man who ruled with fear.

As he bit into the fruit, its juice dribbled slightly down his chin, but he was unbothered. With an air of calm, he asked, "Any word from the Anbu we sent?"

The servant bowed his head lower, almost shaking, "Yes, Your Majesty. The Anbu sent word; he said it will be done tonight."

The King of the Heretics nodded, seemingly pleased, and waved the servants away with a flick of his wrist. The servants hurriedly left the room, leaving him alone in the ominous silence. The king stood, his fingers slightly trembling, as he made his way to the back of the throne room. For some reason, his face betrayed a rare moment of anxiety, an expression seldom seen on the usually stoic ruler.

He approached a section of the wall and pressed a small stone. It slid inward with a quiet rumble, and a hidden door opened before him. The room beyond was cloaked in darkness. As he entered, the door sealed behind him, locking him into a dim, suffocating silence. The King knelt swiftly, lowering his head until it nearly touched the floor. His voice trembled as he spoke.

"It will be done tonight... as promised," he said, the words barely escaping his lips.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a sound. It wasn't just a voice—it was chaos incarnate. It reverberated off the walls, an unnatural, powerful presence, a mix of rage and stormy energy. It echoed in every direction, its sheer force causing the King to sweat profusely.

"HMMMMMMM"

The sound was suffocating, overpowering, and each echo seemed to strike deeper fear into the King's heart. The voice that followed was deep, sinister, and filled with uncontainable power. "You better not fail this time, King of Heretics."

The King's face went pale. His knees wobbled as he pressed his forehead against the cold stone floor in complete submission. "I-I assure you… the boy will be dead tonight," he stammered, his body drenched in cold sweat.

Back at the military base, William and Miss Mona stepped out into the cool night air. The base was alive with activity, even at this late hour. Soldiers hurried through the brightly lit corridors, and machines hummed in the distance. Despite the approaching curfew, the base bustled with the orderly chaos of military life, contrasting sharply with the tension in the air.

William and Mona walked side by side toward the boundary gate, the only way out of the base and back into the academy. The lights flickered from the streetlamps, casting long shadows as they moved in silence. The quiet between them was heavy, almost too loud in the bustling surroundings.

As they reached the boundary gate, William handed their pass to the guard. The guard scanned the passes with a brief nod and let them through. Once they crossed into academy grounds, the mood shifted. It was quieter now, darker, and the sense of urgency began to rise. They both knew curfew was near.

Finally, Mona broke the silence. "Be careful, William," she said, her voice soft but firm. There was a hidden worry in her tone, one that William caught.

"I will," he replied, trying to sound confident.

Mona gave a slight nod before turning to head in the opposite direction. "Goodnight," she called over her shoulder.

"Goodnight," William said quietly, watching her go before picking up his pace. He didn't want to be caught outside after curfew; he wasn't interested in finding out what punishment awaited him if he were.

As he hurried back to his dorm, he noticed several other students running too, some barely managing to put their belts on or zip up their pants as they rushed from the girls dorm to beat the curfew. William chuckled to himself, muttering, "I'm missing out."

He reached his room just in time, with only a few minutes left before the campus would be locked down for the night. Shutting the door behind him, he quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and collapsed onto his bed. The events of the day weighed heavily on his mind.

He had gone from being a lowly citizen to a middle-tier one in the span of a few hours, a status that fewer than 10% of the world's population had achieved. And now, $50,000 would be entering his bank account every month.

"That's enough to help the orphanage… enough to get myself some potions and gear," he mused quietly.

All this had happened because of the system. William felt a surge of gratitude. Without the system, none of this would've been possible. "Thanks, system," he muttered.

The system's voice chimed in his head, smug as always. "Now you know my worth."

"Don't push it," William shot back.

He called up his status screen, his gaze landing on his experience bar. He'd gained 50 experience points just for staying alive today. William smirked. He then thought about the red-haired boy from earlier, Liam, who'd stood up against Billy's gang. He recalled the stats he'd seen when he activated his 3rd Eye.

[Status]

[Liam]

Age: 16

Male

Strength: 17

Agility: 15

Endurance: 14

Ability: Fire

Soul Essence: 21

Liam was almost three times as strong as William, William sighed Tomorrow's going to be a long day, William thought as his eyelids grew heavy, and sleep began to take him.

But deep in his sleep, something stirred. William felt a pull, as if someone were trying to tug him from the darkness of his slumber. The sensation became clearer, a voice calling him.

"Wake up, William… wake up! This isn't the time to sleep!" The system's voice screamed in his head.

William jolted awake, eyes wide, breath quick. Red notifications blinked urgently in his vision.

"What the hell's going on?!" William muttered as his heart raced. His eyes scanned the room. Everything seemed normal… until they landed on a figure by the door, cloaked in shadow.

Fear gripped him.

"3rd Eye—activate!" William shouted in his mind. When his ability kicked in, what he saw froze his blood. The soul crystal of the figure in the shadow was dark, completely black, sinister and overwhelming.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Heretic, William thought in terror.

The figure stepped forward, revealing a man clad in black, his face and head covered. Two short blades were strapped to his back, and metallic claws gleamed on his gloved hands.

Is this how it ends? Is this how I die? William's mind spiraled in fear, his body paralyzed, unable to move.

William's mind raced, thoughts flooding in an uncontrollable torrent. Am I really going to die tonight? His chest tightened, and the most absurd thought flickered through his mind: Am I going to die a virgin? He felt his resolve crumbling as fear overwhelmed him, suffocating, pulling him into a void of hopelessness.

Suddenly, the system's voice cut through the chaos in his mind like a knife. "William! Get a grip! You have to survive—do something!"

The sharpness in the system's voice snapped William out of his spiraling panic. His survival instincts kicked in. Right… I can't just die like this. I have to survive! His thoughts cleared just enough for him to start formulating a plan.

But the Heretic, seeing William's desperation, showed no signs of panic. He calmly spoke, his voice cold and indifferent. "Futile. Your room has been sealed off from reality. No one will hear your screams."

William stopped shouting for help as the Heretic's words sank in. The room felt eerily quiet, too quiet. It was like all the sound in the world had been sucked out, leaving only the faint hum of the Heretic's dark energy. The air was thick with tension, and William could feel the sweat running down his neck. His breath came out in short, shaky gasps.

His eyes locked onto the Heretic, who removed one of the swords from his back and began to approach the bed with slow, deliberate steps. Each step felt like a hammer to William's chest. He wanted to run, to escape, but his body wouldn't respond. His legs were frozen, his muscles refusing to move.

The Heretic's sword glinted in the dim light as he raised it, preparing to bring it down on William. Time seemed to slow for William. His thoughts were racing. Why? Why is life so unfair? This is the third time I've come close to dying!

First, the stabbing. Then, the bus attack. Now, this…

William's mind went blank as the Heretic lifted his sword higher, aiming to decapitate him in one swift motion. The world around him felt unreal, as if he were floating between life and death, unable to change his fate. His body remained still as the Heretic swung the sword down toward his neck.

But just as the blade was about to make contact, the tension in the room shattered like glass. A cold, stern voice cut through the air, its words halting the Heretic's blade mid-strike.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The Heretic froze, his sword mere inches from William's throat. Both the Heretic and William turned toward the source of the voice, their eyes drawn to the figure standing by the window.

In the faint moonlight, a silhouette emerged. The figure was dressed in a sleek ninja outfit, with a katana strapped to his back. His face was obscured by the shadows, but the most striking feature was the glint of green hair, reflecting the pale moonlight.

The Heretic's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice low and filled with suspicion.

The ninja-like figure remained silent, his posture calm and unbothered by the deadly tension in the room. William, still frozen on the bed, could only stare in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was seeing—someone had come to save him, but who?

"It doesn't matter who I am," the green-haired ninja finally spoke, his voice cold and authoritative. "You've made a mistake by coming here tonight." Find your next adventure on empire

The Heretic scoffed, regaining his composure. "You think you can stop me? You don't even understand who you're dealing with." The Heretic's voice dripped with arrogance, his confidence unshaken.

The ninja didn't reply. Instead, he shifted slightly, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana, his gaze locked on the Heretic. The tension in the room grew heavier, a silent standoff between the two. The air around them felt thick with impending violence, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

"Neither do you," the green-haired ninja said, his cold gaze locking on the heretic.