Possession.

The soul wraith was closing in.

Kael could feel it—cold and relentless, slithering through the air like death given form. But instead of panicking, he merely shrugged.

Then he moved.

His speed exploded, the movement skill from Windfall propelling him forward. He shot through the academy grounds, weaving between students who strolled across the campus, unaware of the invisible struggle happening around them.

But then a thought struck him.

Why was he avoiding them?

He was a ghost.

Before he could even finish the thought, his body crashed straight into a student. Or at least, it should have.*

Instead, he passed right through, his form slipping effortlessly through flesh and bone. The sensation was strange—unnatural, like diving into water only to come out dry on the other side. But there was no time to dwell on it.

Behind him, the wraith shrieked.

Kael gritted his teeth and pushed forward, tearing through corridors, walls, and rooms until he reached a hospital building. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air—not that he could smell it, but the memory of it was strong enough to trick his senses.

And there, lying on a hospital bed, was a student.

His body was covered in bruises, skin mottled with dark splotches, his breathing shallow. He was barely clinging to life. Perfect.

Kael didn't hesitate. He didn't have time to be picky.

He lunged.

His soul seeped into the boy's body like ink sinking into paper. It fought back—of course it did. Every soul resisted intrusion. But the boy was too weak, too close to the edge. Kael could already feel the body's warmth enveloping him, the pull of something solid, something real—

A shriek cut through his senses.

The wraith. It was faster than him.

If he kept running, he would die.

And going back to that damned old ghost wasn't an option.

So he did the only thing he could.

He took the body.

And he braced himself for whatever came next.

....

Kael's vision blurred. The moment he forced himself into the body, the world around him twisted and dissolved into white.

An empty space.

No walls, no floor, no ceiling—just endless nothingness stretching in every direction. And in the middle of it all, a single chair.

A boy sat there, cross-legged, his head resting lazily on one hand. His posture was casual, his expression unreadable—except for the small, amused smile playing at his lips.

"You want to possess me?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Kael stiffened.

He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected any of this. Possession should have been a battle of wills, a violent struggle where he crushed the remnants of the boy's soul and took control. Instead, he was standing here, face to face with the one he was supposed to erase.

And worse—why did this kid look happy about it?

"..."

Kael didn't answer. He was still trying to make sense of what was happening.

The boy sighed and shook his head. "Actually, I need your help." His voice was calm, as if they were discussing the weather. "I can give you my body. I don't mind. I'm already dead, anyway. I can't come back to life."

Kael's jaw tightened. Something about the way he said it—so accepting, so certain—rubbed him the wrong way.

Without thinking, Kael cut him off. "Why the hell are you just accepting death like that?" His voice was sharper than he intended. "Why do you want to die?"

The boy blinked at him, still smiling, but there was something else behind his eyes now. Something deeper.

Kael didn't know what it was yet.

But he was about to find out.

The boy laughed, the sound light and almost mocking. "You'll die eventually, you know," he said, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Actually, you won't last long at all. And when that happens… I'll be there at your funeral."

Kael narrowed his eyes, his fists clenching.

"Of course," the boy continued, his grin widening, "we'll meet again, hahaha." He leaned back against the chair, completely at ease, as if none of this truly mattered. "But if by some miracle you do survive… there's someone I want you to look after."

His expression softened, just slightly. "My sister."

Kael raised a brow. "And what's so special about her?"

The boy shook his head, smirking. "There's no need to tell you anything. You'll figure it out eventually."

That set Kael on edge. He didn't like riddles. He didn't like mysteries wrapped in vague promises and half-smiles. He crossed his arms. "You're too damn smug for a dead guy."

The boy just laughed again. "And you're too damn arrogant for a dying one."

Kael's irritation flared, but he forced himself to focus. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Why give me your body? Why aren't you fighting me?"

"Because it doesn't matter," the boy said simply. "I was dead the moment I ended up in that hospital bed. You're just finishing the job."

Kael hesitated. There was something unsettling about how easily the boy accepted his fate. He'd met desperate souls before—ones who clung to life, who fought tooth and nail to stay. But this kid? He acted like he had already made peace with it.

That was dangerous.

That meant he knew something.

Kael took a step forward. "And this thing with your sister—what are you not telling me?"

The boy's grin remained, but there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. Something unreadable. "Nothing that concerns you right now."

"Tch." Kael clicked his tongue, frustrated. "You're a real pain, you know that?"

"I've been told."

The white space around them shifted. The edges of the void rippled, pulsing with something unseen, something old. Kael felt it seep into his very being—a connection forming, a thread weaving itself between them.

The boy let out a breath, almost as if he'd been waiting for this moment. "Well then, Kael," he said, standing up from the chair. "Since you're taking my body, we might as well make it official."

Kael felt it before he heard it.

A contract.

Something binding.

Something irreversible.

The boy smiled one last time. "Let's make a deal."

___

And the world shattered around them.