The Adventurer's Guild of Avelon was a storm of noise and life. Laughter, drunken arguments, and the clatter of steel filled the wide hall, a place where mercenaries, outcasts, and dreamers gathered in search of coin and glory.
The heavy oak doors creaked open, though few paid attention to the figure who slipped inside. Cloaked in black, his face hidden behind a mask of shadowed steel, he was just another would-be adventurer to the rowdy crowd. But beneath the disguise, crimson eyes glowed faintly.
Nova Grey was gone. Tonight, he was only Corpse.
He approached the counter, where a tired-looking receptionist scribbled on parchment. Without looking up, she muttered, "Name?"
"…Corpse," he answered, his voice low and steady, distorted slightly by the mask.
The quill froze. She lifted her eyes, startled by the grim name, before forcing a polite smile. "Strange choice… but very well. Place your hand on the crystal."
Nova obeyed, laying his palm on the glowing orb. Normally, it would shine brightly, revealing the skills of a new registrant. But the moment his energy touched it, the sphere flickered weakly—dampened by the Concealment ability he had forged in secret. To the Guild, he looked… ordinary.
The receptionist frowned. "Not much to show. Rank F. You'll need to prove yourself before anyone takes you seriously."
Nova gave a single nod, slipping the iron guild plate she handed him into his coat. Fame meant nothing. Power, survival, and answers—those were all that mattered.
⸻
At the same time, far from Avelon, Sorra Grey stood in the marble halls of Silvercrest Academy, her crimson eyes darting nervously as groups of students passed. Their uniforms were pristine, their laughter easy. She felt like an intruder in a world built for those who had never known hunger, fear, or loss.
Beside her, Nico Lunar walked with easy confidence, his warm smile a shield against her unease. "Don't worry, Sorra. You'll fit in faster than you think. With your talents, most of the upperclassmen will be chasing to spar with you in no time."
Sorra managed a laugh, though her chest ached with thoughts of her brother. Nova… I hope you're safe.
⸻
That night, Corpse—Nova—studied the quest board of Avelon's Guild. His eyes scanned over dozens of notices until one caught his attention.
Quest: Goblin Nest Extermination. Low Rank. Reward: 300 silver.
Perfect. A simple task to test what his new abilities could do.
By dawn, he reached the goblin camp. Dozens of the creatures screeched and charged, brandishing crude spears and jagged blades. Nova raised a hand, and with a single breath summoned a weapon of black steel, its surface pulsing faintly with destructive energy.
The first swing split the ground. Half the goblins vanished into the earth, crushed in a single strike. The rest shrieked and scattered, but Nova conjured a spear of flame and hurled it into their midst, the blast consuming them in fire.
"…Too easy," he muttered coldly, lowering his weapon.
But the ground trembled. A shadow rose. From the ruins of the nest lumbered a Goblin King, armored in jagged scrap metal, its rusted greatclub dripping with blood. Its aura was wrong—corrupted, pulsing with dark energy that should not have been there.
Nova's crimson eyes narrowed behind the mask. "Perfect. A real test."
The Goblin King roared, charging forward.
⸻
At that exact moment, Sorra jolted awake in her dormitory bed at Silvercrest. Her chest tightened, her breath sharp as though her body had felt a distant tremor. She pressed her hand to her heart, crimson eyes wide.
"…Nova," she whispered into the night. "Don't get yourself killed."