SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 63: The legend of Haleth, the Lantern Bearer.

Chapter 63: The legend of Haleth, the Lantern Bearer.

Throughout the renovation, Mikel had done his best to maintain a peaceful work environment, mostly to prevent another ghost labor movement, which, frankly, was something he never thought he’d have to deal with.

His mornings were a cycle of sneaking materials into the sealed-off South Block of District 5, dodging patrols, and doing supply runs. Adding to that was fulfilling requests and some of the ghosts’ odd last wishes he felt obligated to fulfill.

And always, always, he checked the bulletin boards to see if the government had finally scheduled a retrieval of the bodies.

They hadn’t.

For some reason, the operation kept getting delayed, leaving grieving families restless and angry. Even though the Chief Executive Officer of District 5 had already made a speech about the reason — explaining the delay and the ongoing aftershocks of the earthquake — the affected families’ cry didn’t stop.

It had been over two weeks since the incident, and Mikel knew the delay couldn’t last forever. That’s why he had already started planning for what to do when the inevitable happened. So, when Danika casually mentioned that the headmaster was aware of the renovation, it all clicked.

The delay?

It was the headmaster.

His reason?

Simple.

He was entertained, watching Mikel’s efforts like a personal, ghost-fueled stage play.

Still, even he had limits. He told Mikel he could no longer stall the retrieval for his sake. The smell of decay in the South Block was already reaching the neighboring parts. The best he could do was keep the South Block sealed a little longer after the retrieval.

Which led to the scene Mikel was watching now.

Standing at a distance from the entrance of the quarantine zone, he watched a growing crowd gather—families pressed against the barriers, guarded by officers. Wails and sobs echoed through the air as glimpses of body bags began to emerge from the ruins.

"No!!" a woman wailed, slamming her palms against the barricade. Her son clutched her from behind, arms locked around her shoulders. "My husband—oh god!"

Others didn’t even speak. They just collapsed to the ground, sobbing into their hands, their cries swallowed by dust and heat.

Beyond the barricade, body bags were being lined up with grim efficiency. Rescue workers moved like clockwork, hauling more out of the ruins, one after another.

Mikel’s eyes drifted from the line of bags to a woman who dropped to her knees in silence. She wasn’t crying as loudly as the others, but her muffled sobs cut just as deep.

Her eyes were locked on two smaller bags, hands pressed over her mouth as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

Mikel exhaled quietly.

[Are you about to cry, Master?]

He ignored Doom’s dry remark.

"That’s Arthur’s wife," he whispered. "And those were their bodies."

He glanced at the hovering screen. "Does that mean Arthur’s no longer anchored?"

[Anchored Spirits are trapped in a place not because their bodies are undiscovered, but because the only path left for them is forward, across the afterlife.]

"Huh..." Mikel rocked his head, turning his gaze back to the heart-wrenching scene, only to feel almost nothing.

Not that he didn’t care. He did. He knew he was part of the reason for their grief, for those tears and that loss.

He just couldn’t let it in. Not now.

Slowly, he turned and limped away, his ankle still recovering with the help of the Recovery Protocol.

[You’re not staying longer, Master?]

"What’s the point, Doom?" he muttered. "This world’s made it pretty clear: whining and crying don’t get you far."

He paused, eyes forward. "All I can do now... is carry their pain and never forget about it."

[You have grown, Master.]

[Congratulations on maturing.]

He scoffed under his breath. Of course.

"Once night falls, the rescue teams will stop again," he added, casually changing their topic. "Good thing I bought more materials before Zone Zero dragged me off that night. There’s something the ghosts can use until the Recovery Protocol finishes its magic."

He exhaled, checking his surroundings. "For now... I should look for a spirit worth forming a contract with."

****

A Phantom Contract worked just as Doom had explained.

It was a pact between a shaman and a spirit — formed through mutual consent and witnessed by the Book of the Dead. The type of spirit didn’t matter; normal ghost or cursed remnant, the contract would hold so long as both sides agreed.

But even with that freedom, the pact came with rules. Conditions. Consequences.

The weaker the spirit, the more likely the contract would fail. Not that Mikel planned to waste his only shot.

Why tie himself to a ghost that couldn’t even help him? He wasn’t here to collect liabilities. He already had plenty.

Phantom Contracts, after all, were unlike the cursed relics. Those relics were born of the Protocol. Bound to it. Meant to serve its will.

But Phantom Contracts?

They were his.

Contracts forged with spirits answered to Mikel, not Doom, not the Protocol. They were his allies — or his mistakes. Either way, the choice was his.

And with only one available contract slot right now, he couldn’t afford to waste it.

What he needed was a spirit that could support him — in a fight, in a bind, in the silence before something terrible happened.

Preferably, someone who could help him avoid another ambush like the one he barely survived.

****

Hours later, Mikel sat at the cubicle desk, scrolling through haunting articles on a website known for its "true horror stories." Among them was a post about the river ghost—Maria. Although the story was vastly different from the actual memory left by her imprint, a few details came eerily close to the truth.

And with the headlines about bodies resurfacing in the river making national news, the site had blown up.

Mikel didn’t focus on that, though.

He had several tabs open, but his attention was drawn to one particular thread:

The Tale of the Legends

Title: The Boy Who Lights the End of the Mist

His brows furrowed as he blinked, reading the opening line.

"The legend of Haleth, the Lantern Bearer."

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