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MidReal Story
Forbidden Mates： The Complete Series
Scenario:我是Raszire，暗影行者，具有操控影子的能力，可以用于传送、防护、隐蔽和制造武器。我妻子的妹妹也拥有神秘的力量，且我们之间有一种相互但未被承认的吸引力。
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Raszire
determined, and cautious. Raszire uses his powers for stealth and selfdefense, avoiding detection from his former comrades turned enemies. His wife died under mysterious circumstances, which he still mourns. He is intrigued by his brotherinlaw and sisterinlaw's abilities, particularly her seemingly magical capacity to heal others, which he wishes to understand better.
Raszire's Father
wise, and stern. Once a respected leader among Raszire’s peers, he fell out with the current regime. Now an exile, he seeks to gather information on the shadowy government’s plans. Raszire often visits him to learn more about their world and the politics that drove his father’s downfall and forced him into exile.
Raszire's Mother
compassionate, and strongwilled. Despite their hardships, she encourages Raszire to use his powers wisely and remains hopeful about the future. Her presence provides Raszire with emotional stability and a sense of family connection in times of turmoil and loss.
My name is Raszire.
I'm a Shadowwalker, meaning I have the power to control and manipulate shadows.
I can teleport short or long distances through them, create shadowy shields, make myself invisible, or even form shadowy weapons.
It's a pretty useful set of abilities, especially for someone like me who likes to keep to himself and avoid attention.
I learned how to harness my powers early on, and I'm skilled enough to not leave any traces of myself behind when I use them.
That's important because there are those who would love to hunt me down and kill me if they knew where I was.
Former comrades, now enemies.
They'd consider it treason if they knew I was alive.
My wife died a year ago under circumstances I still don't understand.
She was a Shadowwalker just like me.
Her death changed everything for me, including my perspective on life and my relationship with those around me.
I no longer trust anyone and keep my distance from everyone.
I visit my father from time to time.
He's also a Shadowwalker, former high-ranking officer among my peers.
He fell out with the current regime and has been an exile ever since.
A loyal ally of his followed him into exile, my mother.
I materialize in the shadows of my father's basement hideout, my footsteps silent against the cold stone floor.
The familiar musty scent fills my nostrils as I navigate through the darkness, past the old wooden crates and discarded furniture.
Through the dim light filtering from above, I spot my father's silhouette at his usual spot - hunched over his desk, surrounded by scattered papers and maps.
He doesn't turn when I approach, but his shoulders tense.
I clear my throat, preparing to voice the questions that have haunted me for months.
Before I can speak, he raises his hand, gesturing for silence.
His eyes remain fixed on a particular document, his expression grave.
"There's something you need to see," he says, sliding the paper across the desk toward me.
My hands tremble slightly as I grasp the yellowed paper, scanning line after line of cramped handwriting.
The document appears to be an old mission report, detailing a covert operation from five years ago.
My father watches intently as I read, his fingers drumming against the wooden desk.
Names and locations jump out at me - places I recognize from my wife's final days.
A familiar symbol catches my eye in the margin, the same mark I'd seen tattooed on my wife's shoulder.
I freeze mid-page, my throat tightening as I spot her code name listed among the operatives.
The truth I had been avoiding was now undeniable: my wife had been part of the mission that led to her own death.
My hands clench the report, crumpling its edges as rage builds inside me.
The shadows in the basement writhe and darken, responding to my turbulent emotions.
I slam the paper onto his desk, making the nearby lamp rattle.
"You knew," I say through gritted teeth.
"All this time, you knew she was part of that mission."
My father remains seated, his weathered face unreadable as always.
The silence stretches between us like a taught wire.
When he reaches for the report, I snatch it away, stepping closer to tower over him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
My voice cracks with betrayal.
I stumble back from the desk as the mission report begins to smoke in my hands.
The paper crackles, then erupts into blue flames that don't burn my skin.
My father rises quickly, knocking over his chair.
The fire spreads across the document in geometric patterns, revealing shimmering text and images hidden within its layers.
Through the ethereal flames, I see my wife's face materialize in a three-dimensional projection above the burning paper.
She looks different - harder, more focused - wearing a uniform I've never seen.
My trembling fingers stretch toward the ethereal projection hovering above the burning paper.
The blue flames cast an otherworldly glow across her stern features, so different from the gentle smile I remember.
The magical fire spreads further, revealing more hidden text beneath her image.
My father grabs my shoulder, trying to pull me back.
I shrug him off, my hand reaching closer to the projection.
The basement air thickens with anticipation as the flames dance around my outstretched hand.
Just as my fingertips are about to make contact, the flames surge upward, intensifying around my outstretched hand.
"Stop!" my father shouts, his voice breaking through the crackling flames.
"You don't understand what you're dealing with," he warns, desperation edging his tone.
"Then explain it to me!" I demand, my eyes locked on the spectral image of my wife.
