Whisper of the Mark

chapter 3

The atmosphere was cold as I watched an epic scene unfold before me. The person standing there—I could feel his aura. Definitely a strong one.

He swung his polearm, ready for a charge attack. His sharp blue eyes glanced fearlessly at the creatures approaching him, and I noticed a strange mark on the back of his neck—a weird symbol I'd never seen before.

The hospital corridor was eerily quiet, except for the distant, distorted sounds of alarms ringing. The fluorescent lights flickered weakly, casting a pale, unsettling glow across the walls. The air felt heavy, filled with a sinister, icy chill that made it hard to breathe. The windows rattled slightly as the creatures lunged forward, their grotesque forms becoming clearer under the dim, flickering light. Shadows danced along the walls, making the hallway look like it was alive, writhing with dark, twisted shapes. I could see dark stains on the floor, possibly blood, as if the place had been a battleground before this.

A few of the creatures lunged at him, but he effortlessly dodged and cut them down. One of the creatures had its head severed, and he stepped on it, crushing it beneath his boot.

"How can you attract so many phantoms, kid?" he asked, his voice calm yet carrying a hint of annoyance. His expression remained stoic as he glanced at me.

"Huh... phantoms?" I muttered, confused. So these creatures are phantoms?

He sighed, sounding bored at my response. I fell silent, coughing weakly as I struggled to catch my breath. The air felt like it was filled with a heavy mist, freezing my lungs with every inhale.

"Why are you still sitting there, kid? Find somewhere to hide," he instructed.

I wanted to, but my body had already given up. It felt like I couldn’t catch a break.

Seeing that I didn't move, he simply accepted it. "Fine... suit yourself," he said, almost dismissively.

More creatures tried to attack me, but with swift movements, he cut them down effortlessly, swinging his weapon with just one hand. The sound of his blade slicing through the air echoed sharply in the hallway.

"Come," he said, positioning the polearm behind his back. The phantoms seemed enraged by his behavior. They screamed loudly, making my ears ring in pain. I covered my ears with my hands, glancing at him as he remained calm. His black hair fluttered, making his side profile even more striking.

He dragged the edge of the polearm along the ground, drawing a line in front of me. To my surprise, the phantoms' screams no longer hurt my ears. It felt like there was a barrier protecting me. The heavy, suffocating pressure lifted slightly, and I could finally breathe a bit easier.

Before the phantoms could react, he dashed toward them, kicking one in the face while swinging his weapon. He scratched the blade against the floor on purpose, drawing their attention entirely toward him.

With agile movements, he dodged their sharp claws.

"Ice Sixth Form: Time Freeze," he muttered.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped drastically. The freezing cold surged through the hallway, causing the windows to frost over instantly. The lights shattered, raining down glass shards as the entire atmosphere shifted. It felt like time itself had stopped. The previously red, eerie glow was replaced with a haunting cold blue, matching his icy eyes.

He didn’t waste any time. As he stepped forward, a cold wind brushed against me. His movements were so fast that I couldn’t keep up. I blinked, and in the next moment, the phantoms disintegrated into ashes, disappearing into the air. Only he remained, raising his hand slightly before snapping his fingers.