The sun was beginning its slow descent behind the crystalline skyline, casting long golden shadows across the jagged rooftops of the summit. The town, a marvel of ancient architecture, shimmered under the fading light, its translucent spires reflecting hues of amber, lavender, and rose. From his perch atop one of the higher buildings, Xin sat quietly, his knees pulled close to his chest, his dark eyes distant. The reflective surfaces of the surrounding structures caught the last warmth of the day, painting the world in soft, fleeting colors that seemed to dance across the rooftops. Below, the narrow streets wound like veins through the city, their cobblestones worn smooth by centuries of footsteps.
But inside Xin, worry twisted like a slow-turning dagger, its edge sharp and unrelenting. Shun was out there a lone healer. The veteran warrior's strength was legendary, his sword a symbol of defiance against the Black theatre's endless cruelties. Yet, no matter how much trust Xin placed in Shun's skill, a gnawing unease crawled at the edge of his thoughts, whispering doubts he couldn't silence. This...wasn't without multiple reasons of course it didn't take long for him to realize that shun slipped his ring into his pocket before he left he was a thief at some point or another...
This...is his child's ring, he really better come back...we need him to his family need him to....
He glanced to his side, where June sat beside him, her small frame perched precariously on the rooftop's edge. Her legs dangled over the side, swinging slightly as she fidgeted with the frayed end of her tunic. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, her brown eyes squinting against the fading light as if staring hard enough at the horizon would summon Shun or Lira back faster. Her hands, small and delicate, moved restlessly, betraying the anxiety she tried to hide. June was only ten, but the summit had aged her beyond her years, carving lines of worry into her young face.
Then she turned to him, her hands forming simple signs with practiced care,"Is Lira coming back?"
Xin's expression softened. Her signing had grown faster, clearer, over the months they'd spent together. The concern behind her question was noticeable, a quiet plea for reassurance. He nodded gently, his hands moving with fluid motion to reply in sign,
''Yes. She's coming back.''
June's shoulders relaxed just a fraction, but the shadows in her eyes remained. It made sense. Lira had become more than a protector to her—she was a constant, a beacon of warmth in a world that offered little. To June, Lira was something close to a mother, a figure who brought stability to the silence of her small world. Xin understood that feeling all too well. He had his own anchors, his own ghosts, that kept him grounded in the midst of unruly madness.
He tapped her lightly on the shoulder, forcing a grin to mask his own unease. "You want to know something?" he asked, his motions light as he continued signing for her benefit. "There was a time I thought one of my friends wouldn't come back either."
June blinked, her curiosity piqued. She tilted her head, her small hands pausing as she waited for him to continue.
Xin leaned back against the rooftop's raised ledge, one arm propped behind his head, his posture deliberately casual. "Back when I was a bit younger—just a little bit," he said with a mischievous smirk, "me and a few of my close friends had to go on this insanely dangerous mission. You wouldn't believe how dangerous."
June's eyes widened slightly, her fingers twitching as if eager to ask for more details.
"We had to rescue someone," Xin continued, his voice taking on a storyteller's cadence. "A really good friend of mine. He got himself caught up trying to help me, of all people. Some big bad guy was doing really awful stuff to him—things I don't even like to think about. But you know what? I still don't know how he managed to smile through it all."
He paused, letting the memory wash over him, though the details were… creatively adjusted for June's sake. The truth was rawer, bloodier, but she didn't need those shadows. Not today.
"There were explosions," Xin said, his hands flaring dramatically to mimic bursts of fire. "Huge ones, shaking the ground like the world was falling apart. And giant robots, massive things with glowing eyes and voices that rumbled like thunder. We even had to fly through a crumbling fortress in the sky, dodging falling stones and beams of light that could burn through steel. And the bad guys? They were some of the worst I've ever met, cunning, ruthless, with weapons that could tear through anything."
June's mouth fell open slightly, her eyes bright with awe. She leaned forward, hanging on his every word.
"But…" Xin's voice softened, his hands slowing as he signed.
"In the end, we made it. Not because we were the strongest or the fastest. But because we believed in each other. We held on to that little bit of hope, the kind that grows when you're surrounded by people who care. And we came back home… smiling."
He leaned forward, took her small hands, and gently used his index fingers to push her cheeks upward into a grin. "Just like this."
June tried to hold the silly expression, her lips twitching before she broke into a giggle, the first sound she had made in a while. The sound was soft, almost fragile, but it warmed Xin's chest like sunlight breaking through clouds.
He chuckled with her, then grew quiet, his gaze drifting back to the horizon. "Sure, maybe I exaggerated a tiny bit," he admitted with a wink, his hands signing the words. "But not all of it. That friend—he really did save me."
June's hands moved quickly: What was his name?
Xin hesitated. The name rose from deep in his chest, heavy with memory, lingering on his tongue like a ghost returning from the edge of a dream. "Belial," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
The moment the name left his lips, the sky seemed to change. A wind swept across the rooftops, sharper and colder than before, rattling loose shingles and whistling through the narrow alleyways between buildings. The golden warmth of the sunset dimmed, the lavender hues deepening into something more ominous, as if the world itself had taken a breath and held it.
And then—a sound. A piercing, harrowing scream, unlike anything Xin had heard in weeks. It cut through the air, sharp and jagged, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He stood up instantly, pulling June behind him and lowering her gently away from the ledge. His eyes darted to the horizon, where dark shapes were swirling through the clouds, moving with unnatural grace.
They came like shadows slipping across the sky—winged and wild, their bodies sleek and barbed, their movements erratic like broken glass caught in a whirlpool of wind. Their forms were indistinct at this distance, but Xin knew them by instinct, by the dread they stirred in his gut. "The sky's monsters," he murmured, more to himself than to June.
June clutched the edge of his cloak, her small fingers trembling. Xin's heart began to race, but he kept his voice steady, his tone calm for her sake. "June, we need to get inside. Now."
But she wasn't moving. Her eyes were fixed, not on the monsters, but on a figure on the rooftop opposite them. Xin followed her gaze, his breath catching.
Lira.
Her silhouette was unmistakable: lean, sharp-shouldered, her cloak flaring in the wind like a banner. She had returned, just as Xin had promised—but the urgency in her stance, the tension in her frame, told him this was no ordinary visit. Her hands moved in broad, quick gestures, signing across the distance: They're not passing. They're circling. Looking. We're surrounded.
Xin's chest tightened. The sky's monsters weren't attacking… yet. Which meant they were hunting.