Silas walked into the kitchen; however, before taking more than one or two steps in, he looked down and remembered something.
Snapping his fingers, Silas waited momentarily and watched his clothes change color. They slowly became dark... Darker than any shadow out there. Darker than a pit with no visible end.
Then, it began to wriggle around, as if it was alive. However, Silas knew that wasn't the case. It was closer to being a shadow, if anything—a shadow that was alive, but still a shadow.
Silas had gotten this ability to remove and put on his clothes with a thought when he woke up after destroying a good portion of the misty forest.
He didn't know why it was happening, but his closest theory had something to do with the fact that, whenever he brought up his status, it would show question marks under his race.
It was weird, but it didn't really affect him in any major way, so he didn't mind it.
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