Arizona Skyfall – The Crow Mage Awakens the World
When Jinwoo opened his eyes on the cold floor of the Semi-Basement Room, the world had already been turned upside down. The incident had been dubbed the "Arizona Skyfall" event, and the name was horrifyingly literal.
In the skies above a peaceful national park, right before the eyes of dozens of tourists and park rangers, a black, blot-like crack suddenly tore open in the clear blue heavens.
And in the next instant, as if some invisible sack had burst, three horrifically mangled corpses and the remains of an unidentified beast rained down to the earth amid screams.
The entire gruesome scene had been captured perfectly on the national park visitor center's security CCTV and a tourist's smartphone, which happened to be filming the scenery.
But the real storm came from the two survivors—David and Mark—who were found at the park entrance, nearly collapsed from exhaustion, at the exact moment the bodies hit the ground. Their interviews were broadcast live around the world. In front of the swarming reporters, Mark held up sketches he'd drawn through the night with trembling hands, even through his severe trauma.
"Before this... I saw those stories online. The 'Eternal Nightmare'. I thought it was bullshit. A stupid internet hoax for lonely people."
David stared into empty space as he continued, his voice hollow.
"But it's real. God, it's so damn real. Those things... they weren't just killing my friends. They were defiling them. Toying with them. They... they ATE them right in front of us! We heard everything... the bones breaking, the flesh tearing..."
Their testimony didn't just create new believers. It empowered voices that had long been buried under scorn and ridicule. News channels around the world raced to find those who claimed to have survived past "nightmares."
"They called me crazy!" A college student who had been committed to a psychiatric hospital years ago after claiming to wake from a nightmare wailed in front of the camera. "The doctors gave me pills, and my family begged me to forget. But I knew! Now, finally, the world is acknowledging it!"
As the fear spread, a new breed of opportunists emerged to exploit the cracks. Self-proclaimed "Nightmare Escape Survivors" popped up, hawking "survival secrets" at absurd prices on online forums. Ebooks like "How to Avoid Nightmare Omens" and "Prayers to Avoid Monsters" flew off the digital shelves, and even an online course called "Eternal Nightmare Survival Academy" launched. They peddled half-baked survival tips and meditation techniques, fleecing the terrified masses.
And finally, the silent ones poured into the streets. They were the families of those who had vanished without a trace in recent years due to unknown causes. Their grief, suppressed by disbelief and apathy, erupted into a massive roar of rage triggered by the Arizona incident. Families gathered in front of government buildings worldwide, clutching faded photos.
"My son didn't run away! Investigate the Eternal Nightmare!"
"The government's silence killed our families!"
Mystery NewTube channels, never ones to miss a scoop, flooded the feeds with near-real-time footage. The fastest was "Mystery Tube," with 3 million subscribers.
The video racked up millions of views in minutes, rapidly cutting between sensational captions, sketch images, and the terrified faces of the survivors.
The Mystery Gallery was no longer just a playground for conspiracy theorists. It had become a refuge for those confronting real terror—and a chaotic battlefield.
Meanwhile, in a conference room at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia.
A massive screen displayed the sketch of the "Crow Mage" drawn by Mark.
"Give me the conclusion, Sullivan."
"We're weighting it toward an unknown 'dimensional translocation phenomenon,' Director."
"And the figure in the drawing?"
"That's the biggest problem." Sullivan zoomed in on just the combat uniform in the sketch. "The issue is... that camouflage pattern on the combat gear."
Mark's drawing was so detailed that a precise pattern match revealed it aligned almost perfectly with a specific nation's military camouflage.
"Where from?"
"Republic of Korea Army. It's the old combat uniform pattern they called 'frog suit'—used from the 1990s to early 2000s."
The director furrowed his brow. "Old model? Could be surplus military gear sold overseas, right?"
"Of course, Director."
Sullivan nodded.
"99% likelihood. But we have to keep all possibilities open. The clothes on the only clue in this unprecedented incident clearly point to one nation. Even if it's a slim chance... from now on, we monitor the Republic of Korea."
Back in the Semi-Basement Room, Jinwoo lay on the floor for a while as the tension drained from his body.
The musty mold smell and familiar dust felt almost nostalgic compared to the Red Wasteland, where he'd been covered in blood and guts just moments ago.
He set down the backpack slung over his shoulder.
Inside, the skinwalker's heart and eyeballs sat in a plastic bag, heavy and disgustingly squishy.
"What do I do with this?"
Jinwoo asked the air.
"Can't keep carrying it around like this."
In response, the leather pouch at his waist vibrated faintly. From the bag perfectly sized for the book, the Magic Grimoire's voice echoed.
[You're talking about those filthy remains.]
[Once you establish your 'Magic Workshop,' you can dismantle and process them into materials to infuse mana into your gear. Until then... preserve them so the essence doesn't rot. Simple. Just freeze them.]
"Freeze them?"
Jinwoo made a baffled face for a moment, then headed to the tiny fridge.
He opened the frosted freezer door and pulled out a few bags of frozen dumplings and rice cakes.
Then he carefully shoved the bagged skinwalker parts into the spot.
A bizarre sight: human frozen foods nestled beside otherworldly monster bits. He slammed the door shut without a second thought.
At that moment, the Magic Grimoire's voice rang out from the pouch, now in a deeply satisfied tone.
[Excellent, my lord. Most excellent.]
"What is?"
[That trivial action of yours has brought you tremendous 'Fame.' Mortals across the world now recognize the 'Crow Mage,' fear him, and crave him. This fame may be secondary power, but it will be the perfect foundation for your 'conquest' and 'domination.' The more your name spreads, the easier the world will accept your existence.]
The Magic Grimoire continued its praise.
[Soon, a new authority befitting this fame will unlock for you. Anticipate it.]
And then, as if it were no big deal, it added casually,
[...Since your name is now 'Crow Mage,' making a crow your familiar might not be a bad choice after all.]
Jinwoo let out a snort of laughter.
"Familiar? Who was it that despised them as 'feathered mailmen' or 'shedding cats' useless in combat?"
He glanced teasingly at the Harry Potter novel on the desk. "Did that book move you that deeply?"
[...Nonsense!] The pouch trembled indignantly. [I'm merely keeping all possibilities open and suggesting efficient options! It has nothing to do with that childish fairy tale!]
The Magic Grimoire cleared its throat—figuratively—then swiftly changed the subject.
[More importantly, once you sell that watch (Rolex) and get some money... it might be worth visiting that 'Harry Potter Studio.' ]
"Why there all of a sudden?"
[...Research purposes! Observing what humans obsess over and what stories move them will refine my domination magic even further!]
Jinwoo smiled, sensing the Magic Grimoire desperately making excuses. The book's true intentions rang clear through its voice.