The Mark and the Stranger
Mandy was the kind of person people naturally liked.
At eighteen, he carried an easy warmth—something that made conversations flow and silences feel comfortable. On Guangshang Street, everyone knew him. The shopkeepers greeted him by name, his neighbors trusted him without question, and his friends… well, they never let him walk alone if they could help it.
He lived with his grandparents and his younger brother, while his parents worked overseas. It wasn’t unusual, not anymore. Still, Mandy had grown used to being the one who held things together at home.
That morning, the air was colder than usual.
Mandy shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked toward college, his breath fogging faintly in front of him. It should’ve been just another normal day.
It wasn’t.
At first, it was just a feeling.
The faint, nagging sense that someone was behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder.
A man in a black robe.
Hood drawn low. Face hidden.
Mandy frowned slightly and kept walking. Probably just someone heading the same way. It happened.
But when he turned left—
The man turned left.
When he slowed down—
So did the man.
A quiet unease settled in his chest.
Okay… that’s weird.
Mandy quickened his pace. The street ahead was still busy enough—people passing, shops opening—but the distance between him and the stranger didn’t change.
Step for step.
Turn for turn.
“…Alright, that’s definitely not normal.”
Before he could decide what to do, a hand suddenly shot forward and grabbed his wrist.
“What the—?!” Mandy jerked back, trying to pull free. “Hey! What are you doing?! Who are you?!”
No answer.
The man’s grip tightened.
Then, without a word, he reached into his robe—
And pulled out a knife.
Mandy’s breath caught.
“Oh my God—what the hell?! Why do you have a knife?!”
His mind raced—run or fight? Shout or strike? Nothing felt fast enough.
Then the man finally spoke.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Rest assured… I’m not going to kill you.”
“…That’s not comforting!” Mandy snapped.
Before he could react, the man forced his arm still—
And brought the blade down.
Pain exploded across his forearm.
“Aah—! What are you doing?! Stop—stop it!”
The knife carved into his skin with terrifying precision, tracing an unfamiliar shape—sharp edges forming an octagon, lines cutting inward until a star took shape at its center.
Mandy struggled, but the grip on him was unyielding.
“Why are you doing this?! I didn’t do anything to you!”
Blood ran down his wrist, warm and slick.
Then, just as suddenly—
The blade stopped.
The man stepped back.
For a brief second, there was silence.
Then he raised both hands.
His fingers moved slowly, deliberately—forming patterns in the air, as if weaving something invisible. A faint blue light flickered between them, soft at first… then brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Mandy stared, frozen.
“…What… is that…?”
The light intensified.
The air around them shifted—charged, alive.
Before Mandy could move, the man stepped forward again and pressed his glowing fingertips against the carved mark.
Everything shattered.
Pain surged through Mandy’s body—burning, freezing, tearing all at once.
He screamed.
The light rushed into him, flooding his veins like something alive, something wrong.
His vision blurred.
His legs gave out.
The world tilted.
As darkness began to swallow him, he heard the man’s voice again—
This time with a hint of amusement.
“The game has just begun.”
And then—
Nothing.
