The sun has just begun to rise. A cold mist wraps around the mountaintop dojo like a solemn veil.Henry, bruised but alert, sits cross-legged in the yard.
He watches as light slowly dances over the trees. Behind him, Jack stands silently, arms crossed, back leaning against one of the old pillars. Ichiro, face thoughtful, sharpens his blade while Keal rests.Lenny walks in from the stolen hoverjet, checking his scanner for anomalistic readings. Emilia stands apart, at the edge of the dojo, where fog meets stone.She hasn't spoken much since the battle.
Jack (quiet): "...He wasn't supposed to wake up. But he did. And he still fought us."
Henry: "He didn't fight us. Not really. They used him."
Lenny (scrolling through data): "The energy core was laced with twisted soul energy. I've never seen anything like it. The Syndicate... they're experimenting with death."
Ichiro (cold): "Twisting the very essence of what makes someone them... It's not just evil. It's warping the world itself."
Emilia turns around, walking slowly toward the group.
Emilia (solemn): "...They'll come again."
Everyone looks at her.
Emilia: "The Schatten Syndicate doesn't let people like me simply walk. I ran with them. Did what they told me to. I know how they think. They have members far more powerful; in comparison with Varik, he is only a warning."
Jack: "Then we wait."
Emilia (shaking her head): "No. We can't stay here."
Master Kensei enters silently, his aura as calm as still water.He doesn't speak—he never does—but they all feel his gaze.
Keal (interpreting): "... 'Your time here is done. The storm will come." (He pauses.) "If you remain, this place will fall like others have in the past."
Ichiro (fist clenched): "...We brought danger here."
Henry (standing up slowly): "Then we take it somewhere else."
They gather their things.It's quiet. No speeches, nothing. Just the quiet sound of bags being zipped, blades being sheathed, and a final glance at the place that gave them peace.
Emilia kneels before Kensei and Keal.
Emilia (whispering): "Thank you... for giving me a place to remember who I am."
Keal (smiling faintly): "You'll be back. The trees already said so."
As they enter their hoverjet, the mist clears just enough to reveal the wide world below. Cities. Rivers.
Conflict is waiting on the horizon.The real journey had only just begun.
The hoverjet rises up and disappears on the horizon.
The cockpit rattled.
Warning lights blinked in harsh red rhythms.
The systems were barely holding together.
Lenny sat in the pilot's chair, teeth gritted, hands flying across the console.
Lenny (muttering): "The stabilizer's damaged... The left thruster is fried... This thing's held together by duct tape and God's mercy."
Jack (leaning over him): "Are we going to crash?"
Lenny: "No. But if I sneeze too hard, we might plunge."
Henry (half-joking): "Okay. No sneezing."
Ichiro (peering through the viewport): "There's land ahead. Neon lights... looks like a city."
Emilia (quietly): "...That's Neoterra."
The hoverjet descends through clouds into a sea of neon—Neoterra Prime, a sprawling metropolis of technology and twilight, where the glow never fades and silence is a forgotten luxury.
Skyscrapers clawed at the sky, their glass faces pulsing with digital advertisements.
Traffic filled the streets, lanes of vehicles obeying the rhythm of the ever-present grid.
Lenny (reading a system ping): "There's an old emergency landing zone on the west edge. Abandoned maintenance yard. I'm setting us down."
Jack: "Let's hope the Syndicate hasn't beaten us here."
The hoverjet touches down hard.
Sparks flew as metal scraped concrete.
One engine coughed its last breath and died. The hoverjet groaned like a dying beast before settling with a final shudder.
The group exhaled as one.
Henry (looking out): "Now what?"
Emilia (adjusting her cloak): "We lay low. Fix what we can. And pray Neoterra doesn't know we're here yet."
The group begins patching up their hoverjet. None of them know that the city they've landed in had prepared for them.
In the meantime. East Neoterra Prime, Authority Tower.
A sleek room with walls of digital displays—holo-charts, crime heatmaps, and surveillance feeds.
The man standing at the center was tall and powerful, dressed in a sharp black coat with silver linings. His dark skin, his shaved head, his arms folded behind his back, and his eyes—deep, sharp, endlessly tired—watched the city below from behind bulletproof glass.
Ronnie.
An Anti-Crime Director.
One of the last good men left in a city where virtue had a price tag.Behind him, his adoptive daughter, a light-skinned girl with bright, curious eyes, looked up from the glowing console.
Elara: "Papa... the western grid just blinked."
Ronnie (calm): "Old tech zone?"
Elara: "Yeah. Someone landed something... big."
Ronnie (quietly): "Transylvanian tech signature. Modified... stolen."
He turned to the map, face hardening.
Outside—rain begins to fall.
Officer Lang (nervously): "Sir... We have... a visual. You want to see this..."
Ronnie: "Show me."
The officer tapped in a string of commands. One screen expanded—security cam footage from a back alley in Sector 9.
Graffiti, trash, steam vents. At first, it looked empty.
Then...A figure stepped into frame.
White jester dress. A harlequin hat pulled down to cover his eyes. Two holes in it to see. A knife in one hand, still dripping red, the other hand forming a mock salute toward the camera.
Harlekin. Soul Reaper No. 7.
But there was no crazed yelling.
No chaos. Just the slow, deliberate wave of a man who knew he was being watched.
Ronnie (quietly): "...Why are you here?"
Ronnie (calm, but tense): "How recent?"
Officer Lang: "Timestamp says ten minutes ago. No signs of entry. No witnesses. He was gone before patrol drones even reached the district."
Ronnie: "Any casualties?"
Officer Lang (hesitant): "One body. Unidentified. Found drained... completely bloodless."
A beat of silence.
The screen glitched for a second—then cut to black.
Ronnie (to Officer Lang): "Backtrack his route. Find the entry point."
Officer Lang: "Sir... the camera logs... He just appeared. No entry records."
Ronnie's face remained still, but his fingers curled into a fist behind his back.
Ronnie: "Clean up the scene. Make it look like a gang hit. No leaks, and investigate the footage until the last frame."
Officer Lang: "Yes, sir."
Ronnie turned to the wide glass wall overlooking the heart of Neoterra Prime. The skyline pulsed with color, but beneath it all, he felt the shadows move.
Ronnie (to himself): "The Soul Reapers never show themselves without reason. If he's here... then something's begun."
He exhaled through his nose.
Ronnie: "Find out who he met with. And sweep the east quadrant. I want to know if this was a message..."
He turned, cloak shifting behind him like a slow ripple.
"...or a warning."