POV: Anzuyi Bizen and Seikaku Enteki
Giggleburg's heart pulsed faintly beneath the pale afternoon light. The city moved, but not with life—more like a body animated by habit. Dargath soldiers patrolled in lazy arcs, merchants whispered transactions with false cheer, and the banners of Valeria fluttered beside those of Dargath in a harmony that reeked of betrayal.
Anzuyi Bizen moved through that stillness like an afterthought. Her cloak rippled, swallowing light. No clink of metal, no exhale of breath betrayed her existence. She was a rumor pretending to have form.
"Phase two," Kenji's voice murmured through the signal bead in her ear. "No visibility. No signatures. You know what to do."
Anzuyi smiled faintly. I always do.
---
A. Divided Paths
The team split with silent precision.
Mireina and Fukugen moved toward the southern loading yard, where the rumored crystal shards were being transferred. They blended into the noise of civilian workers and quartermasters.
Kenji and Mikage veered east, toward the storehouses. Their steps carried the promise of confrontation; wherever they went, silence followed.
Anzuyi turned west. Her route led through the old administrative alleys—brick corridors where the light struggled to breathe. That was her realm.
Seikaku, already high above, had taken position on the rooftops of the inner quarter. From there, he could see everything: the layered guard rotations, the choke points, the building that served as the Dargath–Valerian joint command post. He exhaled slowly and began to count the seconds between each patrol.
No one on the ground saw him.
No one ever did.
---
B. Anzuyi's Hunt
The alleyway smelled of metal and oil. Ahead, two figures stood—a Dargath officer in black armor and a Valerian aide with pale robes and an expression of perpetual irritation.
"…the shipment's late," the Valerian hissed. "We can't keep the Valerian command waiting—"
"Then tell them to wait," the Dargath officer spat, turning his back. "We own this city now. They can't—"
The next sound was the faintest hum—like silk sliding across glass.
Anzuyi stepped through shadow, her eyes cold and calm. Her blade drew a crescent line through the air.
Skill: Phantom Strike.
The Dargath officer's sentence never ended. His body tilted forward before his head even realized it was no longer attached. The corpse fell silently, armor clattering only once before she caught it and eased it against the wall.
The Valerian aide stumbled backward, gasping, fumbling for a rune charm.
Anzuyi's hand flicked upward, her form blurring—
Skill: Shadow Slip.
She vanished into the darkness beneath his feet, reappearing behind him like a phantom stepping out of his own terror. One clean motion. The blade whispered across his neck.
No scream. No warning. Only the steady drip of inevitability.
Two bodies now slumped in the alley. Anzuyi dragged them into the shadows, adjusting the officer's helmet so that his face appeared to be resting, asleep.
From the outside, it would look like two men too drunk or too tired to rise.
She wiped her blade on the edge of her cloak and whispered, "Two less voices to give orders."
Then she was gone, the air behind her folding back into stillness.
---
C. Seikaku's Watch
On the rooftops, Seikaku Enteki adjusted his bowstring, eyes narrowed against the faint glare of the late sun. The meeting hall lay below him—a building shaped like authority, with a balcony draped in dark banners. Through a high window, he saw them: Captain Volrag and Captain Ewald, both Dargath, both known for their cruelty in the Bustleburg campaigns.
He steadied his breath.
One inhale. One exhale. The sound of wind through feathers.
Skill: Bull's Eye – Sure Hit.
The arrow left his bow like a sigh of inevitability. It traveled with no arc, no hesitation. Through the open slat, it found Volrag's forehead—a perfect, silent punctuation to a lifetime of arrogance.
Volrag slumped in his chair, expression frozen in half-command.
Ewald stood sharply, startled, then darted toward a side chamber, perhaps to call for guards. Seikaku tracked him through the window's corner. He waited for the exact step that aligned heart and throat.
Skill: Pinpoint Strike.
The next arrow drew a single red line across the sunlight.
It struck cleanly through Ewald's neck, cutting both command and breath in one perfect shot.
Seikaku lowered his bow. Two captains gone. No alarm sounded. The city kept moving below, oblivious that its command had just collapsed from above.
He exhaled, adjusted his hood, and slipped to a new vantage point before the bodies were even found.
---
D. The Rooftop Silence
Later, as dusk bled into the corners of the sky, Anzuyi reached the upper levels of a warehouse roof. Seikaku was already there, crouched beside the edge, bow slung across his back.
No words were exchanged.
They didn't need any.
He glanced at her—the faintest nod. She returned it.
In that silence, they both understood: the operation was proceeding perfectly. Two different hunters, one rhythm.
Below them, the city breathed uneasily. Somewhere in the alleys, panic would soon spread as missing officers failed to report.
But for now, there was still peace.
Artificial. Fragile.
Anzuyi looked toward the horizon, where the dying light touched the rooftops. "When they finally notice," she murmured, "it'll already be too late."
Seikaku nocked another arrow, eyes calm, voice low. "Then we keep cutting until there's no one left to notice."
Two shadows on a rooftop, their forms merging with the darkness.
Two blades of the same purpose.
Giggleburg's heartbeat began to falter.