Shadow thought his idea was brilliant. Or rather… dark.

  He would understand the human body and end that irritating noise. And to do that, he would enter a human body.

  Shadow was already at the edge of Charles’s desk, disguised as the shadow of a red pen. This small, compressed form was exhausting for him—his natural size was that of a “human” shadow. But it would be enough, just for a moment.

  When Charles turned slightly to sip his coffee—eyes closed to savor the good brew his boss had bought—Shadow struck.

  In an instant, the tiny shadow expanded. Because it had been so dense in that reduced form, the sudden expansion created explosive speed—faster than expected. He missed Charles’s mouth and instead entered through the left eye. Specifically—the macur hole.

  Inside, it was all bck. Just like him. But that was dangerous. Without light, there could be no shadow. He had to act fast.

  Originally, he intended to go directly to the pce where humans generated their rhythmic waves—the heart, not the mouth. But now, already in the head, he noticed other waves. They were everywhere, but here, they were concentrated—complex, yet beautiful. Each pulse held meaning. A dance—each step completing the next, synchronizing, shifting, commanding...

  Shadow drifted deeper, mesmerized by the neurons dancing in their endless cycles.

  ...

  Charles was an ordinary person.

  Loving parents, a supportive family. You could say he had everything lined up to succeed. A clear goal—college, a career, maybe a girlfriend. The price? A bit of lost freedom, since he still lived with his parents. But that was normal. He had a pn—he’d move out eventually, like everyone. His path seemed decided. Just live, study, and he’d get everything he wanted.

  Then his father died.

  His mother was hit the hardest. She really loved him. She stopped eating for days. Didn’t speak. Even with Charles constantly by her side—he dropped out of medical school to care for her—he couldn’t fill the void, the loneliness that swallowed her.

  He tried everything: therapy, neuroscience, medication… nothing worked.

  Why was she so deeply broken?

  It was the way he died.

  Eviscerated. A cold-blooded murder. His body was dismembered, found in different locations. Hidden, yet arranged to be discovered eventually. Contradictory. Twisted.

  The body parts were... tortured.

  Especially the head. The eyes had been removed and repced with a strange bck powder—like the head was crying bck tears.

  After the funeral—held using only some of the parts they found—Charles’s mother colpsed completely. She stopped eating. Days passed.

  Eventually, she entered a catatonic state. Needed daily care. Charles hired a full-time nurse, since he had to finish school. But 24-hour care was expensive. He refused to put her in a nursing home, even the cheaper ones.

  It all took a toll. Financial strain. Academic stress. He couldn’t finish medical school and ended up switching to a faster option—document restoration technician. Something he could do quickly to get work.

  Everything had a price. His mind fractured by grief. His mother unresponsive. His dreams of becoming a doctor—gone.

  To cope with it all, he ate. A lot. Stopped exercising. Shut himself away in his technical studies, buried himself in old texts, in lost fragments.

  And deep down, he searched. For whoever did this.

  ...

  Eventually, he got his first job.

  But something remained. Hidden behind masks—no, many masks. A feeling, mad and festering, that kept chasing... even if it meant dying.

  Wh@%aRe?YoU?!#&Get out!!!

  Shadow jolted awake. He was still inside Charles. Somehow—maybe through the synapses—he had reached the heart.

  The heart?

  Charles's memories flooded into Shadow's mind—abrupt, violent, inescapable—as if torn from some deep pce and hurled at him.

  Shadow didn’t have feelings. He still didn’t quite understand love.

  But now... now he understood one thing.

  Rage