Morning did not arrive gently for the natives of Starland City. It broke. A sharp, intrusive sound tore through the quiet rhythm of the city as screens flickered to life across homes, cafés, transport stations, and public halls.
"—confirmed reports have surfaced of another tzzzzt—" The feed glitched for half a second before stabilizing.
"—another tzzt, late last night, marking the seventh victim in what authorities are now officially classifying as a serial case."
The anchor's voice was composed, but something beneath it trembled. Behind her, an image appeared. Blurred, censored yet unmistakable. It was a body. Still and wrong.
"The victims share several key traits," she continued. "All confirmed are Advanced Humans of the third tier and below. All of aristocratic lineage or directly affiliated with high-tier families. Authorities have yet to determine a motive, but sources suggest this may be… targeted."
A pause. Then—
"The public has been advised to remain cautious. Travel restrictions may be imposed in certain districts if the situation escalates."
The screen shifted again and A symbol flashed briefly before being cut. Strange, etched, unfamiliar, and then the broadcast ended. Far from the eyes of the public, beneath layers of steel and silence, a different conversation unfolded, in a dimly lit circular room without windows. At its center stood a long obsidian table, its surface reflecting fragments of those seated around it like broken mirrors. Seven figures, each cloaked not in uniformity, but in presence. Authority did not need decoration here.
"We've confirmed the seventh body," one of them said, voice low, controlled. "Location: Lower Vire District outskirts. Time of death estimated between 01:10 and 01:16."
Another figure leaned forward slightly.
"Same pattern?"
A nod.
"Minimal struggle. Clean execution. No witnesses as usual."
"And the mark?"
A pause. Then—
"Still there."
Silence followed, but it wasn't empty. It was heavy, measured, and dangerous.
"This isn't random," a woman spoke next, her tone sharp as glass. "Seven targets. All aristocratic bloodlines. This is a message."
"No," another voice interjected calmly. "It's a selection."
That shifted the atmosphere, subtly but enough.
"Explain."
The man folded his hands.
"This isn't someone lashing out at power. It's someone… evaluating it."
A faint ripple passed through the room.
"You're suggesting—"
"I'm suggesting," he cut in, "that whoever this is… wants to test the power and authority of most families."
The silence deepened because that possibility… was not comforting. A screen flickered to life above the table, as a map, not of one city but several appeared. Points lit up across it like scattered embers.
"Confirmed sightings and incidents," a voice explained. "Viremont City… Eldran Reach… Karsis Lowbelt… and one unverified trace near the outskirts of Noct Vale."
Names that carried weight appeared. These were of different worlds within the same world. The names of the cities under the ruling families. Viremont City, one with polished towers, quiet power and aristocrats who spoke softly and owned loudly. This was Austin Viremont' threshold where he reigned supreme. His word was the law there. Eldran Reach was more refined and ancient, a place where lineage mattered more than life. It belonged to the Qin family, one that had the first ever emperor as their ancestor, thousands of generations ago. Karsis Lowbelt was crowded, restless, and a place where survival was louder than dignity. It is where the barbaric Steele family led by the infamous Draeger Steele. Noct Vale— That one needed no explanation. It was a place people avoided speaking about, as if saying its name invited attention.
"This isn't confined," the woman muttered.
"No," came the reply. "It's expanding."
Another figure finally spoke, voice older, heavier.
"Then we proceed accordingly."
All eyes shifted.
"The Order exists for one purpose," he continued. "To maintain equilibrium. Advanced Humans are not beyond consequence."
A faint pause.
"And neither are those who hunt them."
The air seemed to tighten.
"Deploy field agents," he ordered. "Tier Three minimum."
A scoff came from across the table.
"Tier Three won't be enough if this continues escalating."
"Then they will observe," the old man replied. "Not engage."
Another pause.
"And the Gifts?"
That question lingered longer than the rest. The answer came slowly.
"Restricted. No full Awakening permissions without confirmation."
A murmur spread. It was controlled but uneasy.
"Then we're sending them blind."
"No," the man said.
His eyes darkened slightly.
"We're sending them… careful."
The screen shifted again. This time it showed data, fragments and terms. Not explained fully but just enough to hint at something vast beneath the surface. It showed various statistics regarding the Advanced Human Agents from The Order, a vast global organization that was put in place to handle Advanced Humans. Advanced Humans, upon awakening, would receive a gift and gifts came with abilities. Strength was determined by aim and tier and also the secondary factors such as bloodline powers, blessings or curses and awakening status. The group went ahead and selected the most promising agents from the information shown.
"Dismissed."
And just like that, the room emptied but the hunt had already begun.
Back at the academy, the world felt… louder, not visibly but in whispers. Clusters of students gathered in corners, voices lowered but urgent, like sparks trying not to become fire.
"—they say he doesn't even fight—"
"—just appears—"
"—my cousin said one of the victims was—"
Seth walked through it all, hands in his pockets, expression neutral. Listening. Always listening.
"—targeting nobles specifically—"
That made him slow, just slightly.
"—means it's someone powerful—"
"—or insane—"
"—or both—"
A faint smile touched his lips. It wasn't an amused one and he wasn't entertained but just… interested.
"—they're saying the mark can't be removed—"
"—like it burns into the skin—"
"—no, worse—someone said it moves—"
"Shut up, that's not even—"
Seth moved past them but the words lingered. 'Marks, selection and aristocrats.' His mind ticked quietly. Like a clock that never stopped.
"Hey."
Another voice cut in with a different conversation. Seth moved close enough to eavesdrop.
"Did you hear about Viremont Academy's tournament?"
That caught his attention. He slowed again.
"Two months, right?"
"Yeah, and apparently it's not just internal this time. They're opening brackets to affiliated institutions."
"Wait, seriously?" There was an unmasked excitement in the voice.
"Yeah. Means monsters are gonna show up."
A pause surfaced and then laughter. Excited and anticipatory laughter. Like who wouldn't be?
"Man, I'd kill to see that." Someone added in excitement.
Seth's gaze drifted slightly. Tournament, opportunity and a stage.He recalled Austin's words from the previous day and smiled faintly. His thoughts began to shift, not wildly or recklessly, but like something… aligning. Power, recognition and movement. Paths opening where none existed before. For a moment he imagined it, the arena, the clash, and the weight of eyes watching. His mind was measuring, judging...but he felt he didn't need any of that, still...
Suddenly—Noise shattered it.
"Move." A voice, loud, sharp and annoyingly familiar.
Seth didn't need to turn to know. Victor! The disturbance rolled through the hallway like a wave, students stepping aside instinctively as he approached, presence loud in a way that demanded attention. Seth exhaled softly.
"…of course."
Victor stopped in front of him, a smug grin already in place.
"Well, well. Still breathing, I see."
Seth didn't respond immediately. He just looked at him and measured. He felt unimpressed.
"…you came all this way for that?"
Victor's smile twitched slightly. But only slightly.
"Tch. Relax. I'm not here to entertain myself today."
That alone was unusual. Seth's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"Then talk."
Victor reached into his jacket. Pulled something out. It was an envelope, yellow in colour, distinct and recognizable even without opening it. Seth's gaze lingered on it for half a second. Then—Understanding clicked.
"…a duel letter."
Victor's grin widened.
"Sharp as ever."
He stepped forward, pressing it lightly against Seth's chest. Seth looked down at that scrawny little arm touching him, with disdain. Victor noticed but swallowed the anger.
"From Douglas. Upper division. Consider it an… invitation."
Seth didn't take it immediately.
"…and if I don't?"
Victor chuckled.
"Then you don't."
A pause.
"But we both know that's not how this works."
Seth finally took the letter. Not with interest, not with care but just… because it was there. Victor leaned in slightly.
"You've been getting a lot of attention lately. Wouldn't want that to go to waste, right?"
Silence followed subtly before Victor stepped back.
"See you around."
And just like that—The annoying brat was gone, leaving behind whispers. Eyes, expectations, he felt it all but Seth stared at the envelope for a moment. Then—
"…annoying." Seth muttered. He turned, walked and without ceremony, dropped it into a nearby bin. Gone! Those who witnessed this scene couldn't help but gasp in disbelief. This guy was getting crazier and crazier as the days went by.
Just like that, the day passed. Classes blurred, voices faded but nothing stuck. Not really. By the time the final bell rang, the sky had already begun its slow descent into evening. Seth stepped out of the school gates, hands in his pockets once more. No bike! He clicked his tongue.
"…right."
Walking it was. The streets stretched ahead. Familiar, unremarkable, yet— Not quite. His thoughts drifted again back to that morning... to Willow.
~"Do you still go there often?"~
He let out a quiet laugh.
"…what kind of question was that?" He mumbled to himself, a playful smirk on his countenance. It had been one night. Just one and yet— Something about the way she asked it lingered. Not the words but the tone. He shook his head.
"…weird."
Still— A faint smile remained. His steps slowed, just slightly. Something— Shifted. Not around him but within. It felt like a subtle pull, a whisper beneath instinct. He frowned.
"…hmm."
Then— He felt it. The presence behind him. It wasn't loud nor was it obvious but was there. Following with measured distance and steps and also patient. Seth's expression didn't change but his path did. He turned casually, not toward home but away toward quieter streets with less crowded paths and eventually— The city thinned. Buildings gave way to scattered land. Trees filled the area, sparse and silent. A place where sound didn't travel far. Perfect! He stopped and listened, then put up an act of enjoying a lone moment in a quiet place, along with an excited sigh. Silence answered him for a second. Two. Then—
A shift. From the shadows between the trees, a figure emerged. He was clad in black, masked and still...watching Seth as if he were prey. Seth turned fully this time.And then, something unexpected happened. He froze, his shoulders trembled and even his breath hitched.
"…w-wait…"
His voice cracked. It was small and fragile. His bag slipped from his shoulder, falling to the ground with a dull thud as cold sweat trickled down his temples and back.
"I—I don't—"
He stepped back, stumbling slightly in the process. His eyes widened as fear spilled out raw and unfiltered. If this was witnessed by the students at his school, they would find it comical.
"P-please…"
The assassin tilted his head slowly and curiously. This… was not what he expected. He had been briefed about this target of his and yet he found the results different. He had taken time to prepare but it seemed that it was just wasted time. Still...he had learned enough times already not to underestimate his targets, regardless of their appearance. After all, his target's file was marked A-tier.
Seth showed no resistance, no awareness, just put up an act of a prey. An easy and pathetic one at that. A quiet exhale left the black figure. He felt disappointed but satisfied. At least he would finish this job as fast as possible before moving on to his next target. A dark mist-like aura enveloped the assassin, making him look like a grim reaper. Terror filled Seth's eyes as he trembled intensely, losing his footing in the process.
"This will be quick."
He moved so fast that Seth only saw a blur cutting through space. And in that final moment—
Seth's trembling stopped. The forest held its breath and the story paused on the edge of something sharp.