The sphere of light hung suspended in the mist at the center of the arena, much like the sun rising on a heavily fogged winter morning. This sensation carried no warmth whatsoever, only an ingrained, bone-chilling cold.

We found the object utterly strange because, even in the advanced ancient era a thousand years ago, the Kingdom of Durban could not possibly have possessed electric lights. Yet, short of a massive incandescent bulb, I could not conceive of anything else that shone so brightly.

If it had been a sky lantern, it certainly would have ascended, but this white orb remained fixed in the air. Driven by an intense curiosity, we slowly edged closer to the sphere of light nestled within the fog.

The cold luminescence emanating from the orb stretched our shadows into grotesque lengths; every face was devoid of expression, bleached white by the radiant glow, and combined with our rain-soaked hair, we presented a thoroughly wretched spectacle. On this remote island in the vast ocean, a few ghost-like figures, we navigated the ruins with an air of deep mystery; an ordinary person encountering us would surely have been terrified into a fit.

The closer we drew to the light sphere, the more we felt waves of cold washing over our faces. It was not the cool dampness of rain or the chill of the wind, but a coldness originating deep within the soul—something akin to… I hesitated to entertain the thought, as I had never believed in ghosts, but this sensation felt exactly like the oppressive chill people described when they claimed to have seen one.

Evidently, the others shared my feeling, and hesitation flickered across their faces. Especially Da Xiong; usually brazenly fearless, he immediately dissolved into a nervous wreck whenever anything remotely spectral was involved.

He took two steps forward, then tugged my sleeve, whispering, “This thing… this isn’t really what Long Jia called the netherworld, is it? I keep getting these cold shivers.” Though my own heart was uneasy, I tried to comfort Da Xiong with a joke: “Maybe someone just forgot to close the door on their refrigerator.

Don't overthink it.” Da Xiong's lip twitched, seemingly trying to form a smile but failing to let it emerge. After trembling for a moment longer, he muttered to me, “I… I think maybe you guys should go check it out first.

I suddenly have a terrible stomachache.” Seeing he was genuinely indisposed, I clapped him on the shoulder. “Fine, you go wait back there.” Da Xiong visibly relaxed, his whole body seeming to sag with relief, and he turned to retreat.

But just as his body pivoted, I heard a sharp "Whoa!" escape his lips, filled with stark terror. My own blood went cold.

I quickly demanded, “What is it? Don’t start screaming suddenly; you’re scaring me to death!” Da Xiong, teeth chattering, pointed a shaking finger at our shadows and forced himself to swallow.

“This… this… what is that?” Even as I questioned him, I had already seen it—the shadows projected by the light sphere were distinctly abnormal. Among the elongated, inky shapes of our own figures, countless faint, flickering outlines were moving about.

Initially, I couldn't discern what these things were, but upon closer inspection, I realized they were legions of human silhouettes. These shadow figures were much smaller than us, and their color was fainter, almost translucent.

The appearance of numerous extra shadows was strange enough, but these figures were actively moving—some clutching their heads and shaking them violently, others strangling their own necks, and still others seemed trapped, desperately beating against invisible walls. Seeing the one choking itself, as if struggling for breath, suddenly brought André to mind.

Could it be that André was dead, and his spirit was now drifting here? The thought sent a searing jolt through my scalp.

Did this mean that ghosts truly existed in this world? If not, why could we see nothing tangible around us, yet these mobile shadows littered the ground?

Liang Qian and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with confusion and a growing measure of dread. Looking at Long Jia beside us, while she didn't appear overtly terrified, the bewilderment in her eyes was deeper than ours; clearly, she had no more idea what was happening than we did.

“I think we should fall back for now,” I told the two girls. “I have a very bad feeling about this.” Liang Qian nodded, but Long Jia tugged gently at my sleeve.

“Wait!” she whispered. I looked at her questioningly, and she pointed toward the shadows behind us.

It was then I noticed it: amidst the chaotic mass of shadows behind us, a single, tall figure—a man with long hair and a long beard—was slowly manifesting. His shadow was nearly twice our size, and its color, initially faint, deepened steadily, growing darker and darker until it became as solid as our own silhouettes.

The shadow emerged from our right side. Once fully materialized, it actually moved its head and began to advance toward us.

I spun around, scanning the surroundings, but in the real world, nothing approached us. However, at the absolute center of the light sphere, what looked like a black pinpoint had appeared, making the entire orb resemble a colossal eye.

“Should… should we move away?” Liang Qian asked weakly, her face stark white, wet strands of fringe clinging to her large eyes. By this time, the tall dark shadow was only three or four meters away, and the first target it faced was Liang Qian.

The imposing silhouette moved with alarming speed; before I could answer, its shadow had reached Liang Qian’s side. Then, I watched as a massive hand shot out and gripped Liang Qian’s neck.

Though I only witnessed the shadow-man grasp the shadow of Liang Qian, the real Liang Qian shuddered violently, and her breathing immediately became labored. Then I saw her face slowly shift from deathly white to a faint bluish-green.

She extended a slender hand toward me, her lips moving, not to cry for help, but to mouth a single command: Run… It was as if I snapped awake from a trance; a shockwave ran through me, and I lunged toward Liang Qian. But before my body could connect with hers, I felt like I had hit a wall of cotton, recoiling backward with a thump, landing hard on my back.

A searing pain shot through my lower back—likely a spasm—and I broke out in a cold sweat from the sheer agony. Clutching my waist, I scrambled back up, only to see Da Xiong still frozen in place, staring blankly.

I cursed him, “You useless fatty, are you scared of ghosts now? Save her, damn it!” Da Xiong blinked, his face having completely lost any trace of color, and he stammered at me, “It’s… it’s too late…” He pointed his finger at Liang Qian, whose body, just like André’s before her, was beginning to fade.

Within seconds, she dissolved into nothingness right before my eyes…