The danger was far from over, and I had no intention of falling into a deep sleep, but the combined exhaustion of both body and mind overwhelmed my vigilance. I slipped into a realm of perception, **which seemed like an endless ocean, my soul enveloped in cold seawater, pushed and pulled, rushing toward an unknown shore.

I fell asleep—

I knew I had fallen asleep, which was a strange thing.

No matter how hard I tried to wake up, I couldn’t. My fallen soul, powerless, was like an insect trapped in amber—unable to speak or move. The only thing I could control was my thoughts, yet even they were being eroded by a fear stemming from some deeper, darker part of my being.

This was a dream, but not quite like a dream.

I seemed to hear a voice:

“Come... the true name... Xi…”

Who was calling me?

I strained to open my eyes, pushing myself up to sit. The dark curtain in front of me made it hard to tell whether I was still in a dream or in reality.

It was so quiet. The sounds of breathing and my heartbeat thudded in my ears. I was sweating, and my back felt damp and cold. I breathed heavily, sitting still as a low, distant howl echoed outside.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I noticed that Fujiye had also woken up, though I didn’t know when. She didn’t get up, but her eyes, wide open in the shadow, glimmered like those of a cat—an eerie beauty. Only then did I realize I was still holding her hand, the soft warmth seeping through, as if an electric current was running through my palm. I reflexively tried to pull away.

I couldn’t break free.

“What time is it?” I asked.

She released my hand and reached for the clock beside us. I turned on the flashlight, dimming it to the lowest setting, and leaned in. The light spread across the clock’s glass face, and we were seemingly enclosed in a faint cocoon of light, feeling somewhat at ease.

It was just past one in the morning. It felt like ages had passed, but I’d only been asleep for less than four hours.

I rubbed my face, running my fingers through my hair to straighten it, finally shaking off some of the haze. I wanted Fujiye to go back to sleep, but she had already sat up, looking as if sleep had completely left her. I felt a bit guilty, thinking my nightmare had woken her.

She only shook her head.

“Was it a bad dream?”

“…Maybe.”

I still remembered the dream and the call within it, but I couldn’t explain it clearly. All I knew was that the dream was filled with darkness, confinement, and corrosion, like being trapped on the execution platform in hell. Was this dream significant? If the answer was yes, then that would be terrible.

In the same environment, Fujiye seemed much more stable than I felt. When I asked if she had dreamed, she said she had. I suggested we exchange our dream contents out of concern, but she refused.

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In the dim light of the flashlight, Fujiye began to stroke her chin, laughing softly to herself in a way that made my skin crawl.

Since she refused, I didn’t push further. As for why I had such a dream, I speculated a few possibilities. Aside from the conventional dream theories, there were more fantastical reasons, involving hell, the apocalypse, and the grey stones.

Maybe we, who had consumed the grey stones, were mutating—who knows?

Suddenly, a sharp sound of branches scraping and snapping came from the courtyard, as if a heavy object had broken the tree branches. It was so sudden that we both immediately understood something was happening.

As expected. We weren’t naive enough to think we could get through the night unscathed.

I turned off the flashlight immediately and exchanged a look with Fujiye. Silently, we crept toward the window. Fujiye carefully lifted the corner of the curtain, and my heart thudded loudly.

Shapes in the courtyard began to emerge from the shadows, one of them near the left side, not quite matching my memory. The wind wasn’t strong, but a tree near the wall was swaying drunkenly, its carefully trimmed branches appearing as though they had been chewed by a dog, looking rather grotesque.

Something had entered. I saw the same realization in Fujiye’s eyes.

Aside from the first noise, it had made no other sounds, eerily like a dark fairy in the shadows.

It was a creature accustomed to hunting in the dark. Even if it lacked intelligence, its lurking instincts were more cunning than those of the ghost dog.

Fujiye lowered the curtain, and we returned to our previous positions.

I checked my arrows and ammunition, secured my handgun, and picked up my crossbow. Fujiye’s fingers traced the blade of her axe, the sharp sensation seeming to pierce through her arm and into her gaze.

A sound of collision came from above us. We immediately stilled our breathing.

From the noise, it seemed to be coming from the fourth floor. It triggered the warning traps we had set. The empty cans clinked with a dull, hollow sound, followed by the sound of objects being pushed aside. But we heard no footsteps.

Neither Fujiye nor I had seen what it looked like, but the hollow echoes that rang through the corridor and stairs confirmed its proximity. One sound, two sounds, it passed through the corridor, climbed down the stairs, and nimbly avoided our traps.

It stopped, then moved again, like a lion prowling the grasslands, squinting its eyes in search of prey. Had it discovered us?

When I became accustomed to the darkness, the shadows no longer hindered my vision, only appearing as a faint veil between us.

I exchanged a look with Fujiye, noticing she seemed just as tense. Her fingers gripped the axe handle tightly, then loosened, repeating the motion.

Suddenly, Fujiye moved toward the door. I quickly grabbed her arm. She turned to look at me, her eyes full of determination and a murderous intent that seemed to say:

"Let’s go kill it!"

Why? I conveyed my confusion with my eyes. There was no need to provoke it. If we stayed in the room, it might not find us. Even if it did, we could use the geography to our advantage.

I dared not speak, afraid that it would hear me. Being able to move so deftly in the dark, it surely had keen senses. It looked like it had jumped in from the outside, and its physical abilities were extraordinary. The ghost dog could leap using walls and even cling to the ceiling. This unknown creature was certainly more agile.

The corridor was full of obstacles, which put us, who could only run on the ground, at a disadvantage.

The strategy at the time was simple—defend our stronghold.

Go out to face it? Ridiculous. I mouthed to her silently, telling her that our chances were lower outside.

Fujiye tilted her head, her face expressionless, making it hard to tell what she was thinking. The flicker in her eyes made me uneasy.

She grinned, not mockingly, but with a stronger, more stubborn impulse.

“I’ll go take care of it. You stay here,” she whispered in my ear.

Her tone carried a strong, resolute will.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” I said, though I knew I couldn’t stop her.

“I have to go, or there’ll be big trouble later.”

“How do you know?”

“Intuition.”

Intuition!? I stared at her in disbelief, speechless.

Fujiye gently opened the door, and the night’s glow seemed to cascade over her lithe figure. I didn’t want to go out at all, but I couldn’t leave her to face that terrifying monster alone. As she was about to close the door, I swiftly approached and pressed my hand against it.

Meeting Fujiye’s questioning gaze, I nodded. “Let’s go together.”