『Ray Kross Presents: The Dark Protocol』のカバーアート

Ray Kross Presents: The Dark Protocol

Ray Kross Presents: The Dark Protocol

著者： Serialized dark fiction and audio dramas from the mind of Ray Kross.
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概要

Some signals were never meant to be decrypted. The Dark Protocol delivers full-length independent novels serialized chapter-by-chapter. This feed serves as the master archive for Ray Kross’s speculative fiction, tracking a descent into psychological suspense and dark fantasy.


raykross.substack.com

Ray Kross SF
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  • Centrellus, Chapter 16

    Centrellus, Chapter 16
    2026/10/30
    Chapter 16: Shadows and LightOneThe mirror gave way with a soundless, gut-wrenching pop that felt to David like his soul was being squeezed through a keyhole.One moment, the stale motel air filled his lungs. The next, he was vomiting it back up as he stumbled onto soft, wet ground. The world didn't just spin; it warped. His equilibrium screamed in protest, his inner ear convinced he was plummeting. He fell to his hands and knees, the cool dew soaking through his jeans, and retched violently. Nothing came up but bile and terror, burning his throat."Breathe through it," Hirum's voice came from somewhere above him, calm and anchored. "The body rejects the violation. Let it."David gasped, spitting onto the moss. The nausea was a solid, churning mass in his gut. His head throbbed with a pressure that felt like a deep brain freeze. "Christ," he managed, wiping his mouth with the back of a trembling hand. "Does it... always try to turn you inside out?""It always tries, but only the first few times does it succeed," Hirum said, not unkindly. He stood patiently a few feet away on a worn stone path. "You are doing remarkably well. You are merely… recalibrating.""Great." David pushed himself up onto his knees, then shakily to his feet. His legs felt like overcooked noodles. The world still had a liquid, dreamlike wobble. He focused on the ground—silvery moss, tiny white flowers, the intricate veins of a fern. Real. Solid. He took a deep, shuddering breath. The air was cold and clean, scented with pine, damp stone, and something faintly floral. It helped, a little.Hirum gestured ahead. "The climb will settle you. And there is a remedy inside."David followed, his steps unsteady, up a steep flight of stone steps carved directly into the mountainside. They were ancient, worn smooth in the centers, slick with moisture. With each step, the crushing nausea receded incrementally, replaced by a deep, bone-weary ache. By the time they reached the top, he was sweating and breathless, but the world had mostly stopped its funhouse-mirror act.Before them, the mountain itself seemed to have opened a mouth.Hirum's sanctuary wasn't a building on the mountain; it was a growth from it. Rough-hewn stone formed archways and walls that blended seamlessly with the cliff face, as if the rock had decided to arrange itself into rooms. No glowing symbols—just the natural, dark grey stone, streaked with mineral veins that caught the faint moonlight. Vines heavy with night-blooming flowers cascaded over the entrance, their scent thick and narcotic. A heavy oak door, bound with iron, stood slightly ajar. From within, a warm, flickering light spilled out, along with the smell of woodsmoke and something like old parchment and dried herbs."Ground yourself here a moment," Hirum said, placing a hand on the stone archway. "The mountain's pulse is slow and strong. Let it steady yours."David leaned against the cold stone, feeling a faint, deep vibration through his palms. It did help. It felt real in a way the teleportation had not.Hirum pushed the door open.The warmth that enveloped David was immediate and profound, like stepping into the chest cavity of a living creature. The main chamber was a wide, circular space, its ceiling lost in shadow high above. The walls were the living rock, uneven and striated, but covered in a breathtaking chaos of knowledge. Not neat shelves—every surface was utilized. Scroll tubes were crammed into natural crevices. Leather-bound books were stacked in precarious towers on rough stone ledges. Maps, drawn on yellowed parchment or cured hide, were pinned to the wall with bone daggers, overlapping and annotated in a dozen different hands and languages. A massive, scarred wooden table dominated the center, littered with astrolabes, crystal lenses, bowls of strange powder, and a single, burning oil lamp.A fire crackled in a deep hearth carved into the far wall, its light dancing over the faces of three people who had been waiting."Welcome," Hirum said, his voice echoing softly in the chamber. "This is the heart of the matter. And these are its keepers."First, the woman. She wasn't just serene; she was still in a way that made the air around her seem calmer. Her hair was the white of a winter moon, swept back from a face so finely lined it seemed carved from ancient ivory. Her eyes were a blue so pale they were almost colorless, and they held David's gaze without blinking. He felt seen, not just looked at—as if she were reading the ghost-impression of his recent passage through the mirror on his skin."I am Ava," she said. Her voice was soft, but it carried, each word clear and weighted. "I am a seer from Torsand, and I have been in communication with seers of the Kryllos. We have watched the caravan descend. Edgar is a vortex of ambition. A shadow that seeks to extinguish light." Her head tilted slightly. "But the women with him… one burns with a quiet, stubborn fury. The other… there is a light in her, ...
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    47 分
  • Centrellus, Chapter 15

    Centrellus, Chapter 15
    2026/10/16
    Chapter 15: The Descent into DarknessOneThe caravan stretched across the rugged terrain like a winding serpent, its soldiers, servants, and wagons moving steadily toward the looming peaks ahead. The vibrant world of Vennug was still alive around them—the golden fields swaying gently in the breeze, the wildflowers spilling color across the hills—but it was quickly giving way to the harsh, jagged line of the mountains rising before them. Their sharp cliffs seemed almost to pierce the heavens, casting ominous shadows across the plains.The procession slowed as the terrain grew more difficult, the path narrowing into uneven, rocky stretches that made the horses snort and paw nervously at the ground. Edgar remained at the front, his imposing black stallion weaving through the stones with deliberate precision. His shoulders were set, his impatience radiating outward like a storm, though his eyes flicked toward the mountains with a glimmer of unease.Kaelen, riding alongside him, broke the silence with a measured tone. "These mountains were carved by ancient tempests," he said, gesturing toward their peaks. "They mark the threshold to Kryllos—and the dangers that lie beyond."Edgar gave him a brief, irritable glance. "Dangers, you say? I hope your tunnels are as reliable as your promises, Kaelen."Kaelen's weathered face darkened for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Kryllos does not suffer the unprepared, Your Highness. We Kryl have survived because we understand this land as the surface dwellers do not. You would be wise to trust our guidance."Edgar scoffed lightly, though the sound lacked its usual sharpness. His gaze lingered on the jagged cliff face before them. "Very well. Lead on. But make it swift."The caravan halted as Kaelen raised a hand, signaling for the column to pause. He slid off his horse with practiced ease, his movements fluid despite his age. The group watched him approach the cliff, his steps deliberate, his sharp eyes scanning the rock face. After a moment, he nodded to himself and turned back toward Edgar."There," he said, pointing to a dark, narrow opening carved into the stone. "The entrance. The Kryl dug this tunnel generations ago, through storms and silence. It will take us below."Hannah, seated near the center of one of the wagons, leaned forward as she tried to glimpse what Kaelen was pointing to. She shivered involuntarily as the sunlight faded further, casting the opening into shadow. The entrance seemed impossibly small and foreboding.Raisa's voice broke through her thoughts, soft but resolute. "It's not as bad as it seems," she said, pulling her own cloak tighter around her shoulders. "The Kryl know these lands better than anyone. Trust in Kaelen."Hannah glanced at her friend, her eyes lingering on Raisa's faint bruises. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but the words never came. Instead, she nodded, her fingers tightening around the edge of the wagon.The guards exchanged glances, their hands shifting uneasily on their weapons. Edgar dismounted his stallion with a sharp movement and strode toward Kaelen, his boots crunching against the gravel. "Then let's move," he snapped. "The longer we linger, the more vulnerable we are."Kaelen nodded without hesitation, his expression unflinching. "Follow me. And remember: silence is your shield."The caravan plunged into the tunnel, its depths swallowing them whole. The vibrant landscape of Vennug was replaced by walls of jagged stone, damp and cold to the touch. The air grew heavier with every step, laced with the faint scent of earth and minerals. Shadows danced along the walls as the flickering torches cast their light, their glow barely strong enough to push back the encroaching darkness.Hannah drew her cloak tightly around her, her breath forming mist in the cool air. The wagons creaked beneath the weight of their supplies, the sound echoing eerily in the narrow space. Raisa kept her gaze forward, her lips moving in a silent prayer, though the words were muffled by the sounds of the march.At the front of the caravan, Edgar walked with purpose, though his shoulders seemed stiffer now, his movements more calculated. Kaelen led them deeper into the mountain, his steady voice giving occasional instructions to keep the group moving smoothly through the treacherous terrain. The guards flanked the wagons, their expressions grim, their weapons held in white-knuckled grips.As they descended further, the light faded entirely. The world narrowed, its once-vibrant sounds replaced by the whisper of wind and the rhythmic drip of water. Hannah couldn't shake the feeling that the darkness was alive, watching them from the edges of the light. She glanced at Raisa again, hoping for reassurance, but found her friend staring resolutely ahead.The caravan moved like a thread weaving through the mountain, their small flicker of life swallowed by the earth. They were leaving the familiar behind, descending into a world that felt like a ...
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    34 分
  • Centrellus, Chapter 14

    Centrellus, Chapter 14
    2026/10/02
    Chapter 14: The March to TorsandOneDeep within the Xianne Palace, in a wing where the marble gave way to older, smoke-stained granite, the air smelled of oil, sweat, and suppressed sound.This was the Foundry Courtyard, a sunken, flagstoned square enclosed on all sides by the palace's sheer walls, originally built in secret centuries ago. The usual palace hum—the distant clatter of pans, the murmur of courtiers—was swallowed by the dense stone, leaving only the immediate, purposeful noises of men preparing for war.Edgar stood on a shallow dais, a silhouette against the grey light filtering from the narrow opening high above. He didn't just move with intensity; he was a still point of coiled force, his eyes tracking every detail. Below him, in the courtyard's gloom, his handpicked soldiers worked.They weren't in full ceremonial armor. They wore boiled leather, dark tunics, gear made for distance and silence, not parades. The *clank* of a crate being set down wasn't muffled; it was a sharp, definitive sound in the quiet. The crates themselves were unmarked, but their weight spoke of contents more lethal than linens: the dull thud of packed rifles, the heavier, solid sound of ammunition boxes, the dry rustle of explosives packed in straw.Edgar watched a squad muscle a small, wheeled field cannon onto a reinforced wagon. A smile, thin and cold, touched his lips. He descended the steps, his boots echoing. He approached a cluster of his sergeants, men with faces hardened by border skirmishes and palace intrigues. Their expressions weren't curious or concerned; they were professionally blank, waiting for the final word."You are not the finest warriors in Vennug," Edgar began, his voice not low, but clear and cutting, carrying in the stone box. "The finest warriors guard my father in the throne room. You are something better. You are the most useful."He let the distinction hang, watching it settle in their eyes. Useful men understood rewards."We march to Torsand," he continued, the name dropping into the silence like a stone. "Not to visit. Not to treat. To *claim*. Their wealth sleeps under mountains they are too soft to dig. Their magic is a garden they are too timid to prune. We will take it. And you will be the hands that do the taking."There was no ripple of surprise. These men had been chosen because surprise was a luxury they'd traded for advancement. There was only a slight tightening of shoulders, a sharper focus in their gazes.He turned to Mun. The lieutenant was a bull of a man, shoulders straining the seams of his tunic, his head shaved to grey bristle. A scar notched his eyebrow, pulling one eye into a permanent squint that gave him a look of grim assessment. He wasn't wary; he was utterly present, a tool waiting in the rack."Mun," Edgar said. "Final inventory. Water, food, powder, shot. Count it twice. We leave when the twin moons set."Mun slammed a fist to his chest in a salute that sounded like a meaty thud. "It will be done, Your Highness." His voice was gravel in a bucket. No wariness. Only the absolute certainty of a heavy door being shut.Edgar gave a single, curt nod. His gaze swept the courtyard—the loaded wagons, the armed men, the secret made manifest in steel and supplies. The march hadn't just begun. It was already a fact, waiting for the cover of darkness to slink out into the world.TwoIn the dim confines of a secluded chamber deep within the Xianne Palace, Prince Edgar sat opposite a pale, yet imposing man named Kaelen. The room was austere yet imposing, its walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting battles long past. A single flickering lantern cast elongated shadows on the stone walls, the subdued light lending an air of secrecy.Kaelen was a man whose presence commanded attention. His weathered face was marked by lines that spoke of decades spent navigating the harsh underground tunnels of Kryllos. His hair was streaked with silver, cropped unevenly, as if practicality always outweighed vanity. His sharp, calculating eyes gleamed like polished onyx, scanning Edgar with a quiet intensity that betrayed his shrewdness. Despite the calloused hands and rough appearance, Kaelen's posture was regal, his bearing a reminder that Kryllos, though hidden from the surface, was no lesser a nation."Prince Edgar," Kaelen began, his voice low and gravelly, the kind of tone honed by years of commanding men in the shadows. "You've heard the whispers of our people, but now you will see what those whispers conceal. Kryllos has remained in the depths for centuries—hidden, resilient, unbroken."Edgar studied him, a spark of intrigue flashing in his eyes. "And yet, here you stand. Your people ready to rise from the shadows at last?" His voice carried a subtle note of superiority, laced with his typical blend of charm and condescension.Kaelen didn't flinch. His lips curled into the barest hint of a smile, one that didn't touch his eyes. "Not out of desperation, Your Highness, but out of ...
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    48 分
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