Chapter 5
1461words
Readers may encounter disturbing imagery including:)
Library of Legends – Hill District, East Plateau Ridge
Case Report – 001
Location: Southwold Town District – Maze of Ruins
Victims: Twin sisters, age 6
Cause of Death: Throat slits from a shared shard of broken mirror
Filed by: Deputy Yven – Soul Division, Hill District
Date: Archive Log 978–M4–021
Two young girls — twins, no older than six — were found dead, lying side by side in their ruined home. Their hands were still holding each other. Between them, a broken mirror shard — soaked in blood.
No signs of intrusion. No signs of a fight. No resistance wounds.
The parents refused to believe they killed each other.
They said the girls never fought. Never showed jealousy. They loved each other more than anything.
“They sleep while holding hands, eat from the same plate—share everything. How could they?”
But the investigation said otherwise.
The Ancient Policing Unit called it mutual suicide.
And when the Deputy of Soul Inspection re-investigated — checking for outside aura or spiritual manipulation — they found something… faint.
Like a shadow in the air. A whisper in the corner.
Village people confirmed: before the incident, they heard something.
A child's voice — singing a nursery rhyme that didn’t belong to any songbook.
No one could remember the full words. Just that it was soft. Repetitive. And left them cold.
The final soul signature showed the girls did hurt each other — but not out of hate. Their minds were fogged. Their wills… tangled.
The case was closed as:
“Puppet Incantation” — a soul-controlling technique long thought extinct.
CASE 02 – NEEDLE-STITCHED BOY
Location: Vigor Lookout Tower
Region: Fresworth City, Western Region
Filed Under: Ancient Soul Inspection Records
Classification: Anomalous Child Death
Status: Closed (Soul Trace Inconclusive)
Incident Summary:
A five-year-old boy was found deceased in his mother’s arms inside their private residence atop Vigor Lookout Tower. The cause of death remains unexplainable. There were no signs of struggle or physical trauma — except for one horrifying detail:
His face had been stitched shut using iron needles.
No blood was found. No sounds of pain were reported.
The mother stated that the child had been “sleeping peacefully” against her chest for hours. She noticed nothing. No pulse drop. No sign of breath stopping. When she finally looked down and saw him… the damage had already been done.
Psychological Response (Witness Statement):
The mother, following the shock, refused food, water, and all communication for four days. She remained in place, arms wrapped around the child’s body, whispering lullabies repeatedly.
On the fifth day, she was found lifeless — a confirmed suicide.
Filed Testimony by Husband (Victim’s Father):
“How can I live with the guilt.
That a mother couldn’t feel her child die in her arms...
even when he was stitched shut, right against her heartbeat.”
Soul Division Notes:
Deputies from the Soul Alignment Unit arrived within 24 hours. Upon inspection, no soul resonance was detected. The child’s spiritual presence had completely vanished — no echo, no thread, no spectral imprint. The energy around the body felt devoured.
This case was added to the Class I Anomaly List, pending possible demon involvement.
Post-Case Status:
Closed, with emotional trauma acknowledged in both parents.
Further cases bearing similar "needle-stitch" marks are under surveillance.
Possible suspect: Entity known as Elunir (Under shadow review).
CASE 03 – SHRINE INFANT FIRE INCIDENT
Location: Shrine of Funjun
Region: Western Region – Outpost Sector
Filed Under: Genocide Archives (Soul Division, Mortal Hall)
Classification: Mass Infant Casualty / Soul-Level Catastrophe
Status: Closed – Marked as Black-Level Tragedy
On the 18th Moon Rotation, a sudden fire erupted at the Shrine of Funjun — a sacred shelter where newborns are brought when their parents are deceased or incapable of care.
Within minutes, the structure was engulfed. No survivors were recorded among the caretakers.
Over 100 newborns perished in the fire.
Except for one.
A single infant was found alive — identity unrevealed.
No burns. No trauma. No memory.
Special Report Filing:
Due to the unnatural absence of screams and delayed external flare visibility, this case was immediately escalated to Soul Division Review.
Post-Incident Soul Investigation:
Healers and shrine officials with soul alignment abilities combed the entire area for hours.
They found:
No trace of residual spiritual energy.
No signs of soul departure or soul-cycle continuation.
Prayer seals were half-burned — yet their inscriptions were untouched.
Final Finding:
“Their souls were not lost.
They were removed. Taken.”
The event was recorded under:
"Genocide of the Shrine of Newborns’ Syllables"
Interrogation Notes from Field Officers:
“When we entered the shrine... I felt my soul crack.”
“Some babies had their toys still clutched.”
“Some had eyes open. Some were asleep — never waking up.”
One officer vomited mid-report. Another fainted.
A veteran healer collapsed while whispering prayers.
Emotional Debrief:
“When I saw that horrifying scene…
I couldn’t breathe. I had to leave.”
“I don’t want to feel what they felt… being burned alive.”
“Poor them… they didn’t deserve this.”
“I’m sorry.
We failed to protect them.”
Status of Surviving Infant:
Name: Unknown
Transferred under special containment.
Monitoring ongoing — currently under veil protocol.
No one spoke.
After reading the last case, they couldn’t dare to open the next page.
The wind shifted around Leoran.
Mosu felt the pressure of that sudden change in the air —
and with it, he could clearly sense the inner voices swirling within Leoran.
The atmosphere dropped like cold ice.
Mosu felt a strange stiffness settle in his core —
maybe because of Leoran’s presence,
or maybe… because of the case they had just read.
> “It’s just another tragedy. Just like the ones that happen every day,”
he told himself — out of character — trying to dull the ache.
Still, what happened to those children… it was hard to ignore.
A sudden flicker:
a memory of young Mosu holding his best friend’s hand flashed before his eyes.
And then — an echo:
"When we grow up, let's join the Wanderers, Mu-mu..."
A half-smile.
Covered in a black fog, the memory slipped away —
leaving him standing in the giant library… alone.
He blinked.
And just like that, the moment snapped.
His eyes met Leoran’s —
Leoran’s gaze was shimmering. Wet, but not crying.
That made it worse somehow.
Most people, after reading something like this, would feel disgusted.
But Leoran — he looked different.
Almost like he was searching for someone familiar in those dusty bundles of misery.
His blank face unsettled Mosu.
So, instinctively, he tried to lift the mood.
But before he could say anything—
“They were abandoned by their parents… some lost their parents the moment they were born.
Isn’t that already cruel enough?” Leoran whispered.
“And in the end, they still had to be sacrificed… for some demon’s greed.”
His eyes glistened — bitter, wet — but the tears didn’t fall. He gulped them back.
Mosu, maybe a goofball, but definitely not some emotionless fool, felt the sting of those words.
He tried to take it positively.
“Maybe…” he paused.
“Maybe they’ve been reborn already, right?” he said, forcing a small smile. “I mean... it happened years ago. Maybe they’re out there now — living better lives.”
But it didn’t make Leoran feel any better.
“He... perished their souls,” he whispered, biting his lip.
Mosu’s heart tightened.
He didn’t know what to say anymore.
He gasped softly — then changed the subject.
“Oh! I forgot to ask — do you know where the Western Coast is? I have to submit my name for the league,” he said, as casually as possible.
Leoran closed the book. Started fixing his clothes. Picked up the scroll again, then walked toward Voina’s desk.
“Hey! You’re ignoring me again? What are you, a girl? Even girls don’t change emotions that fast,” Mosu grumbled, mingling around dramatically.
He looked cute. Funny. Ridiculous.
“I…d…i…o…t,” Leoran muttered under his breath.
“Uhh — what did you say?” Mosu spun around.
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean ‘nothing’? I heard you call me an idiot! Didn’t you?”
Leoran gave Voina a warm smile and nodded, saying nothing, then headed out of the archive.
“Miss, can I borrow this book for a while?”
“Umm… you can’t take these with you.”
“Uhh — why? He did!” Mosu pointed at Leoran.
Voina tilted her head. “Actually… only those who have a pass for entry can take the books.”
“Then why don’t I have that pass?” Mosu asked dramatically.
“Because you’re not from the Hill District.” she replied flatly.
Heh — he grinned then, floated like a ghost from the scene…
(Voina giggled while watching Mosu leaving the library.)
“Silly boy.”
