PASSAGE 42: ECLIPSE

Days bled into weeks after the Calamity's rampage. The once vibrant city had become a desolate wasteland, a ghost town christened "Ground Zero." Businesses lay in ruins, homes stood as hollow shells, and the weight of loss hung heavy in the air. Survivors, displaced and mourning, cast accusatory glances at the absent hunters, whispers of betrayal swirling like dust devils.

Alaric, back in the remnants of his house, sat slumped on the couch, eyes glued to a flickering news report that displayed the city's devastation. A leaden weight settled in his chest, a melancholic symphony of guilt and grief.

Jake, ever the optimist, perched beside him, a steaming mug of coffee warming his hands. He shot Alaric a reassuring grin. "Hey, buddy, chin up. Calamities aren't exactly a walk in the park." He took a sip of his coffee, the clink of the mug echoing in the silence. "Casualties are inevitable in these situations. Don't beat yourself up over it. You can't save everyone, not yet anyway." His voice softened. "But you know what? I believe you can. Someday."

Alaric met his gaze, a flicker of hope battling the despair in his eyes. Jake's unwavering trust, his unwavering belief in him, was a lifeline in this sea of sorrow. He couldn't dwell on the past; he had to focus on the future, on getting stronger, on becoming the hero Jake believed him to be. 

Alaric's attention snapped away from the news report like a fish on a hook. A new segment flashed onto the screen, and the caption below almost made him choke on his own sorrow. "Mysterious Masked Hunter Solely Defeats Evolved Carrion Weaver: Is He a Hero?"

The grainy footage displayed a cloaked figure, wielding a scythe that gleamed like a crescent moon, locked in a desperate melee with a monstrously mutated Carrion Weaver. 

Alaric stared in disbelief. He couldn't place the figure, couldn't remember anyone else being close enough to the battle to capture such a video. A suspicion gnawed at him, a question too pressing to ignore.

"Jake," he blurted out, swiveling his head towards his companion. He pointed an accusing finger at the television. "Do you know where the hell this came from?"

Jake met his gaze, a sheepish grin plastered on his face that stretched from ear to ear. He was practically swimming in awkwardness, one hand scratching the back of his head. "D-don't tell me you're the one who recorded that?" Alaric's voice rose, the gears of suspicion clicking into place.

Jake simply bobbed his head up and down, his goofy grin never faltering. "Calm down, Alaric, calm down," he soothed, his voice dripping with nonchalance. "Yeah, I, uh, filmed that little scuffle of yours and then sent it to the media. But hey, look at the bright side! Your identity is safe under that mask. No one can even tell it's you."

Alaric understood Jake's point, but that didn't make the sudden public exposure any less irritating. A groan escaped his lips. "Fine! Fine, you win this round. But seriously, dude, what were you thinking?!" 

"Come on, Alaric! Can't you see the bigger picture?!" Jake practically vibrated with excitement, his voice a torrent of passionate words. "This is your chance! You can become a legend! A symbol of hope for this shattered city!"

Alaric, still grappling with the unexpected public spotlight, could only manage a shaky, "Wh-what do you mean?"

Jake cleared his throat, a glint of mischievous glee in his eyes. "Think about it! While everyone's been pointing fingers at the absent hunters, you've emerged as a beacon of light, a lone warrior who defied the odds and brought down the Calamity! Don't you have any social media? You're trending worldwide!"

He snatched his phone from his pocket and thrust it into Alaric's hands, the screen glowing with a flurry of social media posts. Images of the masked figure, Alaric himself, dominated the feeds, along with a deluge of comments and hashtags.

"Look!" Jake pointed to a trending topic. "'Eclipse' is what they're calling you! Isn't that cool?"

Alaric stared at the screen, his confusion deepening. "Eclipse? But why...?"

"Because," Jake explained, leaning in conspiratorially, "when you unleash that crazy energy from your scythe, it curves in this way, see? Like a crescent moon eclipsing the sun! Pretty cool, huh?"

A spark of understanding flickered in Alaric's eyes. He scrolled through the messages, a mix of disbelief and amusement washing over him. People were praising the "Eclipse," hailing him as a hero.

Alaric scrolled through the endless stream of messages, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. "Some are even comparing your strength to 'The Three Rays'!" Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with awe.

Alaric snorted, shaking his head. "Get real, Jake. They're legends, S-Tier hunters in a league of their own. That's impossible." A shadow of doubt flickered across his face. "But this whole hero business... How can people even fathom an Untouched like me having such power? And with the whole Calamity fiasco, the Hunter's Embassy must be sniffing around for the unregistered masked hunter." His voice dipped into a worried murmur.

"Yeah, you've got a point there," Jake conceded, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "There's no way we're dodging the Embassy's radar after all that happened. So, what if we… embrace this 'Eclipse' persona? Maybe we can turn it to our advantage." A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes.

Alaric raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Turn it to our advantage? How?"

"Simple," Jake continued, his grin widening. "We use your newfound fame as a shield. Think about it – you're the shining hero, 'Eclipse,' untouchable and adored by the masses. Meanwhile, Alaric, the regular guy, can blend in with the shadows, protecting the lives that truly matter to him." He winked. "Like your folks, for example. No way we'd want them caught in the crossfire, right?"

Alaric's gaze softened. This unassuming friend, with his boundless optimism and reckless schemes, had somehow managed to capture Alaric's greatest fear and turn it into a strategy. He couldn't risk his parents, the only family he had left, getting tangled in his war against the Vermin Claws. The weight of that responsibility had been a constant burden, a lead weight dragging him down. But now, a glimmer of hope flickered.

"You know," Alaric admitted, a wry smile playing on his lips, "for someone who constantly throws himself into danger, you come up with some pretty clever plans, Jake."

Jake puffed out his chest, a playful boast escaping his lips. "Hey, that's what a best friend is for, right? Besides, being a genius strategist is kind of my thing."

A comfortable silence settled between them, a silent agreement hanging in the air. Eclipse, the hero, would be their public face, a beacon of light distracting the eyes of the powerful. Alaric, the man in the shadows, would be the unwavering blade, striking at the Vermin Claws from the unseen. It was a risky dance, a game of deception played on a grand scale, but Alaric was willing to take the gamble.

High atop the Crimson Lion Guild's headquarters, bathed in the crimson glow of its namesake sigil, a lone figure watched the news report with amusement. The man, draped in a crimson suit and cloak adorned with intricate white designs, exuded an air of power and ruthlessness. A smirk played on his lips as the newscaster fawned over the masked hero, "Eclipse."

"Comparable to the Three Rays? Those fools," he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain as he flicked off the television. A sharp rap on the door shattered the silence.

"Good evening, sir," a man in a black suit bowed as he entered. "Did you require my presence?"

"Yes," the crimson-clad figure leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp. "Have you unearthed any clues about this masked enigma the citizens call 'Eclipse'?"

"Unfortunately, sir," the black-suit replied, a hint of frustration in his voice, "we've hit a dead end. The remaining functional CCTVs in the vicinity of the Calamity fight – those that could have provided escape routes or entry points – are all inexplicably corrupted."

A flicker of intrigue sparked in the crimson eyes. "Corrupted, you say? This implies some form of assistance, someone with the power to erase his digital footprint. Perhaps an accomplice?" He steepled his fingers, a thoughtful frown etching itself onto his face. "You are dismissed for now. Keep me apprised of any developments."

The black-suit bowed once more and retreated, leaving the crimson figure alone with his thoughts. "Eclipse," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You may have the city fooled with your theatrics, but your anonymity won't last forever. This delusional quest to be bracketed with legends like the Three Rays… I'll expose you for the fraud you are."

He turned his gaze to the sprawling cityscape bathed in the cool moonlight, a silent promise hanging heavy in the air. The game of cat and mouse had begun, and the crimson figure, shrouded in power and mystery, was determined to be the victor.