The abandoned rail yard reeked of rust and memory. The morning sky hung low, veiled in a sheet of grey, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Rover Cheon stepped over twisted rails, the wind brushing cold against his jacket. The coordinates from the letter had led him here—just past the city's edge, to a place where forgotten things rotted quietly beneath creeping red moss. Ahead, a steel hangar loomed, its walls covered in faded graffiti and scars of neglect.
Then—
The door groaned open.
Without hesitation, Rover entered.
Inside was dim and cavernous. Rusted scaffolding clawed at the ceiling like skeletal fingers. In the center stood six figures, cloaked in crimson and black—wearing the insignia of a bleeding star.
At their heart was a tall man, slender yet impossibly poised, his slick silver-blond hair framing cold crimson eyes. A red velvet rose adorned his lapel. His calm expression bore the unmistakable weight of arrogance—as if every step Rover took was already foretold.
"Welcome, Rover Cheon," he said softly, his French-accented voice smooth as silk. "We've been watching you… for quite some time."
Rover's eyes narrowed, cold as winter steel. His voice came out sharper than ice.
> "If you hurt him again... I'll kill every one of you."
The temperature seemed to drop.
The man chuckled, amused. "Ah, how rude of me." He swept a hand over his chest with theatrical flair. "I am Valentine Roux, guildmaster of Étoile Sanglante."
He gestured toward the elite standing behind him—each radiating powerful, dangerous auras.
> "We are the Crimson Star. France's answer to the Celestial Order… though our methods are, shall we say, less refined."
Rover didn't flinch. "I don't care who you are."
Valentine's grin widened, eyes gleaming. "Sharp tongue. Cold eyes. Inner rage—yes, I see it all. You're just like him." He tilted his head, as if speaking to a shadow. "The Mind Emperor. Christoff Erickson. But raw. Undisciplined. Untested."
A low hum filled the hangar. Floodlights flickered on, illuminating a glass pod in the distance.
Inside floated Professor Kuroda, unconscious, suspended in psychic stasis. Electrodes snaked from his temples to the machinery. His face was pale—fragile.
Rover's whole body tensed.
Valentine raised a hand, palm up, fingers curled like an invitation.
> "I have no intention to kill him, mon garçon. Quite the opposite. He's vital to what comes next."
Rover's gaze sharpened. "What do you want?"
"Simple," Valentine purred. "A test. You destroyed a Calamity-class rift dragon—unawakened. That feat is not just rare, it's impossible. And yet… here you stand."
He stepped closer, voice dropping low.
> "We want to see how. What burns inside you? What power you carry beneath that mortal shell you wear so bitterly. I want to see if it's… transferable."
"Forget it," Rover said flatly. "I'm not your experiment."
Valentine's grin twitched—disappointed but unsurprised.
"So be it. But there is no turning back now. If you want your professor back, you'll play."
With a snap, the hangar warped.
Rover suddenly stood in a conjured battlefield—ash falling like cold rain from a darkened sky. Before him towered a massive rift dragon, its eyes glowing with the same fierce hatred he had faced before.
No demon power stirred inside him—only his mortal strength and will.
The trial had begun.
Time and again, the illusion repeated.
A hundred times, maybe more.
Each attempt ended the same: the rift dragon crushed him mercilessly—claws rending, fire scorching, overwhelming.
He was beaten, thrown down, and broken again.
Valentine watched, arms crossed, a calculating gaze sharp as a blade.
"Show me," he whispered. "Show me the power that felled the beast. Where is the fire you claim to wield?"
But as he observed the repeated failures, a strange whisper slipped into his mind—soft and sinister, brushing against his thoughts like a shadow's breath.
> "Why do you seek me, mortal? Do you understand the consequences of courting death? Of bargaining with forces that hunger beyond your soul?"
The voice was no longer faint. It grew clearer—solid, dark, and chilling.
From the edges of the illusion, a new presence stirred—a demon's voice, sharp and mocking.
> "You play with fire, Valentine. But fire consumes all. What will you do when it turns on you?"
Valentine's grin faltered. His crimson eyes darkened with a rare flicker of fear, as if the words had pierced deeper than any blade.
For a moment, the air grew heavy with unease, the usual arrogance cracking beneath an unknown weight.
Then he straightened, forcing a smile—though it was tighter now.
> "Interesting. Far more entertaining than I thought."
---
Meanwhile, far away in the city...
The tension was thick in the cramped apartment.
Mina paced restlessly, clutching her tablet. "We can't wait any longer. I'm contacting the Hunter Association."
Ayaka, already on her second call, nodded grimly. "I've filed an abduction alert with the local precinct. But this… this is beyond civilian jurisdiction."
Vex stood by the window, eyes scanning the city's steel and glass horizon.
"If Rover's up against what I think he is," she said, voice low, "we need more than cops on our side."
Mina tapped furiously on the tablet, pulling up surveillance footage.
"The delivery location for the box was ghosted from every camera. This was a professional job."
Ayaka's expression hardened. "Then they're guild operatives. Highly skilled and dangerous."
She looked to her friends, resolve burning in her eyes.
> "We need to tell the Hunter Association. They have resources the police don't—fighters who track down the untrackable."
Her phone buzzed with a message—the Hunter Association had just sent word through the Celestial Order.
> "Case flagged: Abduction of a high-value psychic scientist. Priority: Extreme. Unauthorized guild activity suspected. All units, be prepared to mobilize."
Vex nodded. "They're mobilizing fast. If Rover can get to Kuroda, he won't be alone."
Mina took a breath. "We set a rendezvous at the abandoned observatory hill—just outside the city. It's the safest place we have if he needs extraction."
Ayaka looked to the skyline, determined.
> "This is far from over."
---
Back at the hangar—
Valentine turned again toward the pod, voice smooth but edged with something darker.
> "You've earned a glimpse of him. But this dance… it's far from finished, mon cœur."
Rover's gaze stayed locked on the pale figure of his professor.
His jaw clenched.
His knuckles whitened.
Valentine's smile softened—almost tender.
> "Tell me, dragon-slayer… how far will you go to protect what you love?"
And somewhere behind that smile—
A storm was gathering.
---
To be continued…