Chapter Four: Anomaly

Adrian leaned against the vendor's cart, the smell of sizzling meat mingling with the acrid scent of city smog. The skewers hissed on the grill, fat dripping onto the coals with a sizzle that matched the distant hum of traffic. Mei stood beside him, her gaze fixed on the crowd but her attention clearly on him. The city's neon glow reflected off her sharp features, casting her in shades of electric blue and toxic green.

"An anomaly," he repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth like a bitter pill. "That's a polite way of putting it."

She shrugged, a subtle movement beneath her sleek leather jacket. "Would you prefer 'unknown variable'? 'Potential threat'? The classifications are flexible."

He smirked, taking the skewers from the vendor and tossing a crumpled bill onto the cart. "I prefer Adrian. Less syllables."

She watched him take a bite, her eyes narrowing. "You've caused quite a stir. Two shadow fiends dispatched in one night. That's not a common occurrence."

He chewed thoughtfully, the meat tasteless but satisfying the gnawing hunger in his gut. "Shadow fiends. Is that what we're calling them? Sounds like something out of a bad horror flick."

"Call them what you want. The fact remains—you fought them and lived. Most don't."

He glanced at her, noting the confident set of her jaw, the way her hand rested casually near the hilt of a concealed blade. "You seem well-informed. And well-armed."

"I have to be." She turned to face him fully, the crowd flowing around them like a river around stones. "You're not the only one who deals with the things that lurk in the dark."

"Ah, so we're colleagues then." He tossed the wooden skewer into a nearby trash can, wiping his hands on his worn jeans. "But if you're looking to recruit me into your little monster-hunting club, I'll pass. Not much for team sports."

She smiled thinly. "You're assuming you have a choice."

He chuckled, a low, mirthless sound that seemed to absorb the light around them. "There's always a choice, sweetheart. It's one of those pesky human rights."

Her eyes flickered, a hint of frustration breaking through her calm exterior. "You don't understand what's at stake here. The appearance of shadow fiends in the city is a sign of something bigger. They're drawn to strong sources of shadow energy."

"Meaning me." He crossed his arms, the shadows at his feet curling slightly, as if reacting to his irritation. "Lucky me."

"Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it." She glanced around, her expression momentarily grim. "They're harbingers. If they're here, worse things are coming."

Adrian sighed, tilting his head back to stare at the haze-obscured stars. "There's always worse things coming. Story of my life."

"Help us stop it," she urged, her tone softening. "We have resources, information. We can help you understand what you are."

He looked back at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes—perhaps a glimmer of hope, quickly extinguished. "And what am I, exactly?"

She hesitated. "That's... unclear. But our experts—"

He held up a hand. "Spare me the sales pitch. I've had my fill of 'experts' and their so-called wisdom." His gaze hardened, a shadow passing over his face. "Tell me this: why should I trust you?"

She met his stare without flinching. "Because right now, you don't have anyone else. And neither do we."

For a moment, they stood in silence, the city's noise a distant hum beneath the weight of unspoken words. Finally, Adrian pushed off from the cart, his decision made.

"Fine," he said. "One meeting. But if I don't like what I hear, I'm gone."

Mei nodded, a hint of relief in her eyes. "That's all I ask."

"Lead the way then." He gestured expansively. "After all, I wouldn't want to get lost. Again."

They walked in silence through the labyrinthine streets of Shanghai, the city's pulse throbbing beneath their feet. Neon signs flickered overhead, casting fractured reflections on rain-slicked pavement. Adrian's senses were on high alert, every shadow a potential threat or ally. The shadows whispered at the edges of his consciousness, an incessant murmur that both comforted and unnerved him.

Mei led him down a narrow alley that opened into a quiet courtyard, a stark contrast to the bustling streets they'd left behind. A solitary lantern hung from an archway, its dim glow barely piercing the darkness.

"Shortcut?" Adrian asked, his tone laced with skepticism.

"Something like that," Mei replied. She approached an unmarked door, placing her palm against the weathered wood. A series of symbols glowed briefly beneath her touch before the door swung open silently.

"Neat trick," he remarked.

"Perks of membership." She stepped inside, and after a moment's hesitation, he followed.

The interior was a stark departure from the ancient facade—a sleek, modern space filled with soft light and the hum of technology. Monitors lined the walls, displaying maps, charts, and streams of data that meant little to Adrian.

A handful of individuals moved purposefully about the room, their conversations hushed but urgent. They cast curious glances his way but kept their distance.

"Welcome to our field office," Mei said. "It's not much, but it serves its purpose."

Adrian surveyed the room, his gaze settling on a large display highlighting various locations around the globe. Red markers pulsed ominously. "Let me guess," he said, nodding toward the screen. "Bad things happening in bad places."

"You're not wrong." A deep voice drew his attention. A man approached—tall, with graying hair and eyes that held the weight of too many secrets. "I'm Director Shen."

"Adrian, Adrian Corvus" he replied curtly.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with us," Shen continued. "We believe we can be of mutual benefit."

"That's up for debate." Adrian's eyes narrowed. "Cut to the chase. What do you want?"

Shen exchanged a glance with Mei before continuing. "We are part of an organization that monitors and manages supernatural threats. Lately, we've noticed an uptick in shadow fiend activity, which is...

concerning."

"Again with the 'we' business," Adrian said, crossing his arms. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Everything." Shen's gaze was steady. "The shadow fiends are drawn to you. Or more precisely, to the energy you emit. It's unlike anything we've seen."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Lucky me."

"Indeed." Shen clasped his hands behind his back. "We believe that with your abilities, you could help us identify the source of this surge and potentially stop it."

"And in return?"

"We can offer you resources. Training. Information about your abilities."

Adrian's eyes flickered with something—interest, perhaps, or skepticism. "You think you can teach me about this?" He lifted a hand, and the shadows in the room responded, tendrils of darkness coiling around his fingers before dissipating.

Shen watched the display calmly. "We have access to extensive archives, ancient texts, and experts in various fields of the supernatural. If there's knowledge to be had, we can find it."

He considered this, his expression unreadable. "Tempting. But I've learned that nothing comes without a price."

"True," Shen conceded. "We ask for your cooperation. Your skills, in exchange for our support."

Adrian tilted his head, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "And if I refuse?"

Mei stepped forward. "Then you'll be on your own when the real threat arrives. And believe me, it will find you."

"Is that a threat or a warning?" he asked.

"A fact," she replied evenly.

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Fine. Suppose I say yes. What's the plan?"

Shen gestured to the screens behind him, which displayed various maps and data points. "We've traced the shadow fiend activity to several key locations across the globe. Nodes of dark energy that are activating after centuries of dormancy."

"And you want me to visit these places, is that it? Play supernatural errand boy?"

"In a manner of speaking," Shen said. "Your connection to the shadows could allow you to sense things we cannot. Close rifts, disrupt rituals, perhaps even prevent whatever is coming."

Adrian glanced at the screens, his eyes scanning the data. "Sounds like a party."

Mei stepped closer, her voice lower. "We can help you, Adrian. You don't have to face this alone."

He met her gaze, his eyes reflecting the depths of something guarded and fierce. "Alone is what I do best."

"Maybe it's time for a change," she suggested.

He held her stare for a moment longer before smirking. "Careful, you might make me think you care."

She didn't flinch. "Maybe I do."

Adrian considered this, the shadows swirling subtly at his feet. He felt the weight of their gazes, the unspoken expectations pressing in. "I'll think about it," he said finally.

Shen nodded. "That's all we can ask for now. In the meantime, perhaps you'd like to rest. We have accommodations—"

"I'll pass," Adrian cut in. "I've got my own place." He lied.

Mei stepped forward. "At least let us provide you with some information. Maybe it'll help you... decide."

He sighed, recognizing the persistence in her eyes. "Fine. But make it quick."

She led him to a side room, quieter and more intimate. Shelves lined the walls, filled with worn books and artifacts that exuded an air of ancient mystery.

"Cozy," he remarked, trailing a finger along the spine of an old tome.

"These are records of others like you," Mei said, pulling out a thin folder. "Accounts of individuals who exhibited control over shadows."

He arched an eyebrow. "Others like me? Somehow I doubt that."

She opened the folder, revealing faded photographs and handwritten notes. "Their abilities varied, but there are similarities. Maybe something here will resonate."

Adrian glanced over the documents, skepticism etched on his face. As he skimmed the pages, a particular image caught his eye—The paper rustled faintly in his hand as he froze, the edges crinkling beneath his fingertips. His breath hitched, barely noticeable, but there it was, etched in black ink: a symbol. Not just any symbol, but one he'd seen before—long before any of this shadow business had started, before the orphanage, before his mother had died in that damn car accident, before his father abandoned him afterwards. The shape was unmistakable, sharp lines and intricate curves that twisted inward like they were drawing something in. He'd seen it hanging from his mother's neck, a tarnished silver pendant that she never took off, not even at night.

The memory flooded back with a sudden, almost violent clarity—his mother, sitting by a low fire, the light flickering in her eyes, her fingers tracing the edge of that pendant. She used to say it was just an old family heirloom, something passed down from a distant relative no one remembered. But he'd known even as a kid that she was lying. It had weight. Meaning. Now, staring at the same symbol sketched out in stark detail, his gut twisted with the sick certainty that it hadn't been some family trinket.

His mother had known. She had always known.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing in as the world outside the papers faded into a dim hum. Adrian's fingers trembled slightly as he ran his thumb over the symbol. He could almost feel the metal of the pendant against his skin, cold and heavy.

Skepticism melted into something sharper, something colder. It was anger, or maybe it was fear. He couldn't tell.

Adrian clenched his jaw, the memory of his mother flashing in and out of focus—her soft smile, her eyes clouded with some unspoken worry she'd never let him understand. He should've asked more questions, pressed harder. But back then, he was just a kid, and kids are supposed to believe their mothers, aren't they? He'd been naive, too wrapped up in his own childish world to see the cracks forming in hers.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it didn't help. The symbol, that damn symbol, felt like it was burning into his brain, a knot of questions he didn't have the answers to. What the hell did it mean? Why had she kept it from him? He pushed the papers aside and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling like the answers might just fall into his lap.

The shadows in the room seemed to pulse, alive and whispering, feeding off his thoughts, his tension. They knew. Of course, they knew. They always knew.

"Stop," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, as if that could somehow silence the gnawing sensation in his gut. But the shadows didn't stop. They never did.

The quiet hiss of the air vent and the low hum of the overhead lights were the only sounds now. The others in the room—Mei, Director Shen, the rest of their crew—seemed to vanish into the background, as if the world had slipped into a murky fog, leaving him alone with the symbol and the memories. For a moment, he could almost hear his mother's voice, soft and distant, like a fading echo in a deep, dark cave.

"What were you hiding from me?" he whispered to himself, barely audible, but the question hung heavy in the air, unanswered. His chest tightened. He felt the weight of it pressing down on him, a familiar burden he hadn't realized he'd been carrying for years.

Suddenly, the fluorescent lights flickered, snapping him back to the present. He blinked, pushing the memories aside, shoving them down deep into the place where he kept all the things he didn't want to face. He'd deal with that later. He always did.

Adrian stared down at the folder, his knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. At fifteen, he had no business dealing with this. Monsters, shadows, organizations with ancient secrets—that was the kind of stuff from movies or bad comic books. He should've been worrying about school, about friends, about...anything but this. But here he was, staring at something that pulled at memories he didn't want to revisit.

He shoved the folder away, his chest tightening. "I'm not doing this," he muttered, stepping back. His sneakers scuffed on the cold floor, the sound hollow. "I'm not...what you think I am."

Mei didn't move, her face softening as she spoke. "You don't have to be anything right now, Adrian. But these creatures... they aren't going to stop. And the fact that they're hunting you? That's not a coincidence."

Adrian glared, the tension in his body growing unbearable. "So what? You want me to be your little monster hunter? A kid running around chasing shadows, putting out fires because I'm supposed to? Forget it. I've seen what happens when people try to 'help' me. It doesn't end well."

His mind flashed to the last person who had tried to help, the person who had promised safety, guidance—only to keep him trapped, using him like a pawn in some sick game. He'd barely escaped the last time… well, the last time had nearly cost him everything. Baba Yaga's face flickered behind his eyelids, her smile a cruel slash of shadow in the darkness. No, he wasn't going to be played again.

"Adrian, I'm not them." Mei's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. "We don't want to control you. We want to help you understand what you're up against."

"Why should I believe you?"

Mei sighed, stepping back, her arms crossing over her chest as she glanced toward the door. "You shouldn't. Trust doesn't come easy, I get that. But believe this: those monsters—the ones you fought—they're not just random creatures. They're losing their minds, becoming more dangerous every day. And they won't stop."

Adrian swallowed, glancing at the symbol again, the twisted lines burning into his mind. His mother. The pendant. The memories clashed inside his head like two storm fronts, and he clenched his fists, willing the shadows at his feet to calm down.

"I'm not anyone's hero," he said, voice quiet but firm.

"Who said anything about being a hero?" Mei asked, her voice steady. "Maybe it's not about that. Maybe it's about balance."

That caught his attention. Adrian looked at her, eyes narrowing. "Balance?"

Mei nodded. "These creatures—they've lost it. They don't care about who or what they hurt anymore. They're trapped in a world that's forgotten them, or they've gone mad from centuries of hiding. You could help them, Adrian. Maybe not all of them, but some. You could be that bridge."

He let her words sink in, a part of him wanting to scoff, to walk out, to disappear into the streets of some faraway city. But another part—the part that had always lingered in the shadows, just waiting for him to acknowledge it—knew she was right. This wasn't about saving people from monsters. This was about the monsters themselves. The lost ones, the broken ones, the ones who had slipped through the cracks of time and memory.

The shadows around him whispered, curling in on themselves like a restless sea. Maybe, just maybe, they weren't telling him to destroy. Maybe they were showing him another way.

"I don't know if I can do that," he admitted, running a hand through his messy hair, his voice softer now. "I don't know if I can help them. Or even help myself."

"That's the thing about balance," Mei said. "It's not about fixing everything. It's about keeping the scales from tipping too far. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to try."

He looked up at her, feeling something shift inside him, something he didn't want to name yet. It wasn't hope, exactly. But it was close.

"So, what? I just wander the world, helping these...things?" He could hear the skepticism in his own voice, but he wasn't laughing anymore.

"Not wander. Explore. Learn. Grow. You're young, Adrian, but that doesn't mean you're powerless." Mei stepped forward, her voice quiet but full of conviction. "You've been dealt a hand that no one should have to deal with at your age. But you're stronger than you think. You can make a difference. Even if it's just one lost creature at a time."

Adrian looked away, his jaw tight. He didn't want to care, didn't want to feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. But the idea of finding something—someone—out there who needed him, who was as lost as he felt... it tugged at something deep inside him. Something he wasn't sure he could ignore.

"I don't even know where to start," he mumbled, staring at the floor.

Mei smiled, just a little. "You start by leaving this room. By walking out there and seeing what's really going on. There are stories in every part of the world, legends of creatures most people have forgotten. But they're real, Adrian. And they're waiting for you."

Adrian let the silence linger between them, his thoughts pulling him inward. Mei's words echoed in his head, but it was more than just her voice—there was that strange pull from the shadows, the same thing that had been there ever since this whole nightmare began. It gnawed at him, like an itch he couldn't scratch, a reminder that maybe he was never going to be free of it.

He stared at the floor, willing himself to look away from her, from the weight of what she was asking. But the shadows moved at the edges of his vision, curling like smoke, whispering things he couldn't quite hear. They'd always been there, ever since he was a kid—lurking, waiting for him to acknowledge them. And now? Now they were practically begging for his attention.

"Why me?" he asked quietly, surprising himself with the question. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. "Out of everyone in this godforsaken world, why does it have to be me?"

Mei didn't answer right away, her eyes locked on his, steady and calm. "I don't think it's about why, Adrian. I think it's about what you do now that it's you. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. But you're here now, and that means something."

He frowned, the weight of it pressing down on him again, heavier this time. It would be so easy to walk out, to disappear into the labyrinth of Shanghai's streets, find a corner to hide in and let the world move on without him. But deep down, he knew the shadows wouldn't let him. He could feel them, coiled inside him like a spring ready to snap.

Adrian closed his eyes. There was that memory again, of his mother—her voice, her laugh, the way she used to tuck him in at night and tell him stories, like everything would always be okay. But it hadn't been. She'd known something, carried it with her until the end, and now... now it was his burden to bear.

Maybe she'd been trying to protect him. Or maybe she'd just been scared.

He opened his eyes, a sigh slipping through his lips. "Fine," he muttered, barely loud enough for Mei to hear. "I'll go. I'll see what you want me to see. But I'm not promising anything beyond that."

Mei's face softened, just a little. "That's all I'm asking."

But as she said it, something in the room seemed to shift, like the shadows themselves had been waiting for his answer, like they'd known all along what he'd decide. He could almost feel them breathe, cold and alive, wrapping around the corners of the room. Adrian blinked, his heart thudding a little harder in his chest.

It wasn't over. Not even close.