"Haleth!" Mikel’s voice echoed through the quiet forest. "Hey! Haleth!"
[I don’t think shouting is going to make it co out, Master.]
He ignored Doom’s comnt and kept moving deeper into the trees.
"Haleth! I know you’re in here!" he called again. "My na’s Mikel — not a shaman, not yet anyway! But I need sothing from you!"
He paused, listening to his voice bounce back from the trees.
"Ever heard of a contract with a human? It’s a mutual agreent! Want to test that out?"
[Master, if soone else is here, shouting your intentions might put you at a tactical disadvantage.]
"Got any better plans?" Mikel muttered, glaring at the screen. "Just keep scanning and warn before I get jumped."
The screen flickered reluctantly.
[Scanning...]
Mikel clicked his tongue and resud calling Haleth’s na—again and again— but his own voice was the only reply.
He had already reached the forest’s exit twice, circling back in and taking different routes each ti. Now, on his third attempt, he deliberately walked without a pattern—twisting paths, doubling back, anything to disorient the trail.
"Hal—" He stopped mid-call when sothing flickered at the corner of his eye.
Mikel turned, squinting, his left eye glowing faint red. Between the dense trees, sothing shimred deeper in the forest.
[Scanning...]
[Concentrated spiritual energy detected.]
With Doom’s confirmation, he stepped carefully off the path and pushed through the trees, into a darker stretch of forest.
And then, he saw it.
Hidden beyond the undergrowth, half-consud by roots and ti, stood a small, ruined chapel.
The wind howled again, rustling the leaves in the trees. The fog in the surrounding area was thick, but everything around the ruined chapel remained still.
Until suddenly... a light flickered in the lantern hanging by the entrance.
Mikel’s shoulders tensed. He felt the shift in the air changed, barely, like sothing had noticed him.
His eyes locked on the lantern as the fla inside stabilized, flickering to life. He stepped forward quietly, stopping just before the door.
His red eye glowed brighter, scanning the chapel’s interior.
Nothing. Just shadows.
"Doom," he murmured, eyes still locked forward. "Where did you detect the spiritual energy earlier?"
[Behind you.]
His breath hitched.
A chill crawled up his spine. The sensation—that feeling—of soone watching him settled deep into his back.
He didn’t move.
His heartbeat slowed, but his gaze sharpened with resolve as calm took hold.
Then, he heard footsteps.
Soft, deliberate, right behind him.
He turned his head slowly, and his breath stopped again.
Sothing massive brushed passed his shoulder. Cloaked in tattered robes, its face hidden deep within a blackened hood. It didn’t acknowledge him. It simply stepped up to the entrance... and reached for the lantern.
Mikel watched as the spirit plucked the lantern from its hook and began walking away.
"Hey!" he shouted. "You think I’m just gonna pretend I didn’t see you?"
The cloaked figure paused mid-step.
It turned slightly, as if glancing over its shoulder. But it said nothing.
Then, it continued walking, unbothered, unhurried.
[Phantom Candidate Detected.]
[Haleth, the Lantern Bearer.]
[Type: Support / Utility]
[Core Skill: Lantern light reveals hidden spirits and exposes cursed marks.]
[Potential Additional Skills:
-Aids in stabilizing unstable soul bonds with humans.
-Grants temporary immunity while crossing cursed zones. ]
[He is, by far, the most compatible Phantom Candidate to date.]
Mikel glanced at Doom’s screen, then shifted his gaze to Haleth’s fading silhouette ahead.
"Damn right he is," he muttered, taking a long step forward. "Haleth! Give a second—just hear out!"
[Master.]
He paused as Doom’s screen flashed again.
[Haleth is already aware of your intentions. It is leading you to its trial.]
Mikel frowned.
Right—Doom had ntioned that forming a Phantom Contract wasn’t as simple as shaking hands or signing so spiritual paperwork. So spirits required tests. Trials. Personal rites of passage.
If they agree to test you, they’re already open to the idea of a contract.
He followed the flickering lantern light deeper into the woods.
"What kind of test is this, anyway?" he asked aloud.
[The nature of a Phantom’s trial is beyond the Protocol’s jurisdiction.]
Soon, the path led him to a riverbank, where the cloaked spirit stood motionless, lantern still in hand.
Without turning, Haleth raised a single curled fingernail and pointed across the water.
Mikel followed the gesture with his eyes, scanning the thick trees and dense mist across the river.
"You want to cross it?" he asked, standing a few ters away. "That’s it? That’s the trial?"
Haleth didn’t reply. Instead, it placed the lantern down gently at the river’s edge. Then it turned, facing Mikel directly. Its mouth moved, but no voice ca.
And yet, Mikel heard it through a whisper in the wind.
"Walk through the fog and help a lost spirit cross the river... without using force or intimidation. Finish the trial until the fla dies."
Mikel watched as Haleth silently turned and walked away, vanishing into the trees.
The lantern remained, waiting for Mikel to pick it up.
He stepped forward, picking it up. Its fla pulsed faintly in his grip. He looked toward the path ahead, then toward the place Haleth had vanished.
"Sothing’s waiting in there... isn’t it?" he whispered.
His left eye glowed brighter, focusing through the mist.
Now he could see it—concentrated energy, thick and heavy. Not just spiritual residue. Sothing alive. Or sothing trapped.
It wasn’t like this side of the forest. That other side was screaming quietly but viciously.
"Doom?" he asked, quietly.
But Doom’s screen simply displayed one last ssage.
[Trial Initiated: First Phantom Contract — Haleth, the Lantern Bearer.]
[Objective: Escort the lost spirit across the river. Restrictions: No force. No intimidation.]
[Trial Ti: 30 Minutes.]
[Good luck, Master.]
And with that, Doom vanished.
Mikel huffed quietly, snapping his attention forward.
Since this was a Phantom Contract, Doom couldn’t assist—not that Doom was ever that helpful, but this ti, it was on him. Completely.
He adjusted his grip on the lantern and began navigating the riverbank, scanning for stable rocks he could use as stepping stones. The water was calm, so he tested the current and depth. After everything he’d been through—including fighting a literal river ghost—he didn’t hesitate to wade in.
Carefully, he made his way across, one foot at a ti, making sure the lantern stayed dry. By the ti he reached the far bank, his lower body was soaked, but the lantern and his bag remained untouched.
As he hauled himself onto dry ground, he froze.
Footsteps.
Many of them.
Coming from sowhere up ahead in the woods.
"The hell...?" he muttered, picking himself up and advancing cautiously into the thick trees.
The mont he disappeared into the mist, the cloaked figure from before erged behind a tree on the other side, watching the direction Mikel had gone.
*
*
*
With a lantern held in front of him, Mikel moved slowly through the fog-draped woods. The footsteps he was hearing grew louder—dozens of them now, echoing faintly through the trees.
He tightened his grip on the lantern, keeping low as he approached the sounds.
Then he saw it.
Faint lights ahead. Flickering. Moving.
"Huh...?" he breathed. "Are there people living on this side?"
Still confused but cautious, Mikel edged forward through the brush until he reached the final tree line.
He stopped behind a thick trunk and peeked out.
His eyes widened.
There, a crowd—a mob—of people stood ahead, torches in hand, yelling furiously as they surrounded a building.
A chapel.
The sa ruined chapel he had seen earlier.
Mikel scoffed. "What the hell?"
As Mikel tried to make sense of all of this, one of the n torched the chapel from the side. So of them threw it toward the windows, and soon, fire blazed from within it.
"Shit —" Mikel froze as he took a step, only to almost fall into the river.
His eyes widened, lifting them as he stared ahead, only to realize he was back at the sa spot where he had picked up the lantern.
Back from the beginning.
"This trial..." he whispered, shifting his wide eyes at the forest on the other side. "... is a loop?"
And it seed the lost spirit he must guide out of it was... himself.
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