"Who's there? Show yourself!"

His voice echoed through the empty stone streets, but no answer came.

Only silence.

Leon didn't receive any reply at all, but the strange feeling of being watched didn't disappear. And that inexplicable sensation he couldn't properly describe—it was gone now, but he knew with absolute certainty it wasn't an illusion or his imagination playing tricks on him. Something had genuinely triggered it.

That was real. Whatever that was, it was definitely real.

Now Leon's epic-ranked sword was firmly in his hand, materialized from his inventory in an instant. And for some strange reason, it was buzzing intensely—a clear reminder of his blade's consciousness stirring, just like what had happened last time when he'd fought the Coreborn monster Morpheus, which had nearly killed him.

Only after surpassing his limits through desperate training in the time dimension had he been able to defeat that overwhelming creature. Well, his mythical treasure—the Dimensional Hourglass—had been the absolute MVP in that fight, providing safety with its ability and the precious time acceleration he'd desperately needed to improve.

But leaving that aside for now...

Leon was now searching cautiously around the abandoned city, acutely aware that the intense buzzing in his sword meant there was likely serious danger somewhere near him.

My blade doesn't react like this without an extremely good reason. It's warning me.

He was now fully alert, every sense heightened to maximum capacity, his mystical eyes scanning constantly for threats.

After investigating carefully for only half a minute or so, he arrived at a place which appeared to be a holy site of some sort—or at least somewhere culturally important to whatever civilization had built this city.

The stones here were all jet black, clearly the toughest and most refined material he'd encountered in the entire city so far. The structure was dome-shaped, not particularly large by temple standards—still bigger than a normal residential home, but smaller than he'd expect for a major religious center.

Inside, there were long rows of stone seats arranged in neat, organized lines and a large empty ceremonial space at the front, likely where important rituals had been conducted. Decorations like elaborate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, crafted from genuine gold and other precious metals, along with various religious accessories and symbolic items.

That's the reason I believe it was a place of worship of some sort. A church, maybe? Like the Church of Life or Church of Light I've heard mentioned before. But clearly, this one followed entirely different beliefs and practices.

Just then, as he was carefully inspecting the interior details, that strange feeling returned with renewed intensity—as if something fundamental was actively happening around him right now.

There! I felt that!

This time, he distinctly felt something had made direct physical contact, not the same, but something similar to him. The sensation was unmistakable and deliberate.

Leon struck out instinctively with his fist in the precise direction he'd felt the touch.

WHOOSH!

But there was clearly nothing there—at least nothing he could see with his eyes or detect with any normal senses. And more disturbingly, he hadn't registered anything at all within his spatial awareness either, which should have detected even invisible threats.

How is that possible? My spatial detection should pick up everything physical, even things trying to hide.

"Who is there? What is happening?" he voiced his questions loudly, his voice echoing through the empty stone chamber.

"Show yourself immediately!"

He knew with absolute certainty that something—or someone—was doing something deliberate and intentional. They were definitely not alone in this seemingly abandoned city. He felt not just one eye focused intently on him now, his enhanced senses screaming that information clearly.

It feels really creepy, like being watched simultaneously by dozens of invisible observers who won't reveal themselves.

But this time, the feeling was much stronger and more persistent than before. Whatever invisible force had touched him had created a powerful reaction he couldn't simply ignore or dismiss.

For a brief moment, Leon thought seriously about whether he should just leave this increasingly bizarre place entirely. He even voiced that thought aloud, speaking to the empty air as if expecting to provoke some reaction from whatever things were secretly watching him, or show themselves if possible.

"Maybe I should just leave this place."

The reaction came immediately—not something physical or visible, but now he felt it clearly and unmistakably. It was like something was directly touching his soul itself, reaching past his physical body to interact with his very essence.

My soul? Are they directly interacting with my soul? That's... unprecedented.

It wasn't hurting him—or at least, it couldn't actually hurt him as far as he could determine. But he definitely felt profoundly uncomfortable. Not threatened in a conventional sense, but deeply creeped out by the utterly alien sensation.

His intention to leave evaporated from his mind entirely. If these mysterious entities clearly couldn't hurt him or actively didn't want to harm him, there was no rational reason to flee like a coward.

I'll investigate further. This is far too interesting to abandon now. And I've faced worse threats than invisible observers.

The strange reactions kept occurring repeatedly as he traveled systematically across the city, exploring with methodical thoroughness. Some objects he found particularly interesting during his investigation, he stored directly inside his inventory for later detailed examination.

When those creepy sensations happened over and over now, Leon didn't freak out or shout "Who's there?" as he had initially.

Instead, he confidently stated every single time with absolute certainty:

The tiniest bit of fear he'd felt initially was completely gone now, replaced entirely by genuine curiosity. It was happening over and over again, becoming almost routine and predictable.

They're persistent, I'll give them that much credit. Very dedicated observers.

But then suddenly, while passing through an open square area paved with intricate stone patterns, he heard the faintest whisper directly in his ear. It was mostly incomprehensible—as if words were being spoken, but most syllables were severely cut off or heavily distorted. He couldn't make any coherent sense of what was being communicated.

However, he showed no visible reaction to it other than his usual calm declaration to the empty space around him.

"I know you're still watching," he said softly this time—not as a challenge, but as an acknowledgment.

As his investigation continued deeper into the city's mysterious heart, he kept collecting more interesting items and artifacts he encountered. He even found some ancient weapons, not in the sense of power, but being old, lying abandoned in what appeared to be an old armory or weapons storage facility. His system interface didn't provide specific names or histories for them, just basic classifications—mostly Rare rank equipment with only one epic item, which was a bell with no name in the system, which he had collected from the strange holy place.

Not bad at all. Definitely worth keeping for future use or study.

He stored them methodically in his inventory, cataloging each one mentally.

Until suddenly, he noticed something significant—the whispers he'd been hearing periodically were getting progressively less incomprehensible over time, as if whatever entities were speaking were actively learning how to communicate more clearly with him.

And just now, he actually made out distinct, understandable words for the first time.

"Mars, stop!"

That's what he clearly heard—a name being called and a command being given.

Leon couldn't help but say it out loud immediately, testing for reactions.

"Who is Mars?"

And suddenly, the strange feeling of being constantly watched stopped completely for several long seconds. The whispers ceased entirely, leaving only eerie silence.

Even the thin layer of dust on the floor seemed to be still, as if the air itself dared not breathe.

That reaction... whatever is watching me was genuinely surprised I understood that name. They weren't expecting comprehension.

After a couple of whole minutes with absolutely no strange sensations of being observed and no whispered voices anywhere—which Leon had begun to assume meant the phenomenon was finally over completely—it happened again with renewed intensity.

But this time, the whisper was dramatically clearer and perfectly understandable.

"Mars, please leave him alone!"

The voice he could now distinctly identify belonged to a little girl, probably quite young based on the pitch and tone, filled with genuine concern and worry.

And not only could he hear her clearly this time—he could finally see them with his own eyes.

There!

A translucent boy's small body, appearing around nine years old, had his tiny hand phasing completely through Leon's stomach as if his physical form weren't even there.

The moment the boy's ghostly hand passed through him, a sudden cold prickled across his skin—like ice blooming under his ribs, fleeting but unforgettable.

The same soulful sensation from before.

And right behind the boy floated a little girl around the same apparent age, reaching out desperately with both hands to pull her brother back from the strange living man.

A single word escaped Leon's mouth as understanding clicked perfectly into place.

"Souls."

He was looking directly at them now—at the ghostly girl and boy, both clearly deceased spirits; he didn't know if they were, but that's what it looked like to him: they were somehow lingering in this abandoned city. The boy was still attempting to punch his stomach repeatedly with childish determination, his small fist passing harmlessly through Leon's body with each futile strike.

A strange pang tightened in Leon's chest—not from the harmless ghostly strikes, but from something deeper. He didn't know what it was exactly—grief, sympathy, or just the strangeness of being attacked by a child who no longer lived—but it sat with him for a long second, heavier than any sword.

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