It was a calm and peaceful evening.
So peaceful that seven-year-old Ryo had only a few beatings from local bullies that afternoon. He walks towards home in a muddy path while sobbing silently.
His black hair made him a target, just like his mother. People say she was the most beautiful woman in the land, her dark hair and pale skin drawing envy from village wives and stares from husbands who should know better.
As a single parent raising him, she took the hate.
He stopped in front of his house, brushing off the day's dirt with small hands and pushed open the door.
Inside, the good smell of cooking stew filling the room with some warmth. A woman stirred the pot at the fire's light.
The door's noise told her he was there, and she turned. Her blue eyes shone. "Ryo, my sweet boy," she said softly as she wiped her hands on her apron and knelt down to him.
Those eyes looked over his messy look. "How's your day? Did you chase adventures with the other children? Make any new friends?"
He forced a shaky smile, eager to keep the happiness on her face. "It was… fun, Mama. We played games by the river. I won a race!"
She smiled as she messed up his dark hair. "That's my boy! Now, go wash that face. Dinner's almost ready."
She stood to go back to the pot, but Ryo grabbed the edge of her skirt, holding her.
"Mama…" He looked at the floorboards, his words coming out in a whisper with hidden pain. "The other kids… they talk about their papas. Wrestling, stories by the fire. Do I… do I have one? Where is he? Why doesn't he come for us?"
Her breath caught, a dark look crossed her face—sadness, regret, a flash of old anger. She knelt again, holding his chin gently and forced a smile.
"Oh, Ryo… your father was a wanderer from distant lands. He gave me you, the greatest gift, but the world pulled him away. One day, when you're older, I'll tell you tales of him that would make your eyes shine. For now, know this: you have me, We're enough, you and I."
A loud knock broke the moment. She stood up. "Coming," she said as she went to the door.
She opened the door a bit, looking out, and froze, her body stiff like hit by unseen chains. Whispers came in from the outside.
"Mama!" Ryo called, stepping closer, fear twisting his stomach.
In a rush, she turned back, tears running down her cheeks. "Ryo, run! Run to the forest now! Don't look back!"
He stepped towards her in confusion. "Mama, what's—"
A sharp sound cut the air. The arrow hit through her back, coming out her forehead in a burst of blood. She gasped, stumbling forward before falling down. Blood spread like spilled on the floor, her blue eyes fading as they met his one last time.
Ryo stood still, her warm blood splattered on his face. The world fell into screams he couldn't make, the open door like a grave, darkness taking everything but the red.
♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢
Ryo's eyes opened wide, his chest rising fast as he gasped for air. The air was clean and filled with chemicals, it's nothing like where he's from.
He sat up fast on the strange bed, heart beating hard, breaths coming in rough bursts. As his sight cleared, he looked around the room: clean white walls with a weird neatness, weird machines beeping in a steady rhythm beside him.
This wasn't his grand palace.
This wasn't any hell or afterlife he'd thought of.
He looked at his hand with a clip on one finger, stickers covered his chest, and a needle stuck in his arm, dripping strange liquid into his veins.
He was in a weird gown without even underwear.
His memories were foggy after killing Lucas, completing his revenge, the world going dark. But after?
Wincing, he pulled the needle out and ripped off the clips and stickers.
His feet touched the cold floor but his knees woobled, as if he'd lain still for weeks. Holding the bed rail for support, he pulled himself up.
A nearby door got his attention, marked in strange writing that somehow translated in his head: "Washroom." He didn't wonder how he read it. Moving over on shaky legs, he pushed inside.
The lights turned on by themselves. A big mirror covered the wall. "What the fuck?" he said as he looked at his reflection. He stepped closer and pressed his hand on the cool glass to check if it was real.
It was him with same black hair and red eyes. But younger, a boy of maybe seventeen or eighteen. No rough spots, no bruises, no signs of the emperor he'd become through blood and fire.
"What happened to me?" he whispered, touching his smooth cheek.
[Welcome back, Emperor Ryo!]
A see-through panel appeared in his sight, blue words glowing softly. A lady voice spoke in his head.
He paused, staring at empty air. "What the hell is this?"
That voice… it was the same from last night, the one that had pushed to kill people before. He'd thought it was a dream.
[CORRECTION: THAT WAS NOT YOUR LAST NIGHT.]
[YOU HAVE BEEN UNCONSCIOUS FOR THE PAST FIVE DAYS.]
Ryo blinked, stepping back until his hip hit the sink. "Five days? Unconscious? Wait… you can hear my thoughts?"
[AFFIRMATIVE. I AM INTEGRATED WITH YOUR NEURAL INTERFACE. I MONITOR ALL PHYSICAL AND MENTAL STATES IN REAL TIME.]
He groaned, running a hand through his messy black hair to make sense of it. Had I gone mad? Died and woken in some hell?
[(-_-)].
"Alright, then explain," he growled, voice rough and dry from not using it. "What the hell is going on? Where am—"
The main door to the room slid open with a hiss and footsteps hurried in.
He looked through the half-open washroom door, he saw a woman in white clothes rush to the bed, her face going pale at the empty sheets.
She looked around first, then looked at washroom finding him there. Relief showed on her face, but it was changed into something harder. Her stare stayed too long, checking him like an object.
"Vesker? Oh, thank goodness you're awake," she said, her voice even but with fake kindness. She came closer slowly, hands up to calm. "You shouldn't have removed your IV. Let me help you back to bed."
Her eyes didn't fit her words; there was greed there, or maybe knowing.
"Who are you?" he demanded, not moving from the washroom door. "And don't bullshit me—what kind of place is this?"
The woman's smile grew wider as she moved closer. "What are you talking about, sweetie? We're treating you right now. Just cooperate with me, and you'll get better in no time."
Ryo's muscles tightened like ready to strike, feet set wide for steadiness. His eyes fixed on her hand as she's holding a small tool that buzzed with lightning between its points.
His muscles tensed. "What the hell is that?"
She jumped at him, pushing the stun gun at his chest. Ryo's arm shot up and grabbed her wrist in the middle of the push. His grip is weak, shaking like a baby.
If it's his old body, her bones would've crushed immediately.
She swung her free fist at him. He ducked just in time and using her momentum, he drove his knee into her stomach. The woman gasped, stumbling backward, but Ryo didn't stop. He spun and kicked, his bare foot slamming hard into her chest.
She flew back, hitting the wall with a thud. The stun gun slid across the floor.
Ryo turned to the door, breathing heavily. He had to get out and ran outside.
The nurse groaned and tapped an earpiece. "The boy escaped," she hissed, wincing in pain.
Ryo sprinted into the hallway. Alarms wailed suddenly, echoing through the bright corridor. Red lights flashed overhead.
"Is that some kind of sorcery?" he said under his breath.
[No. That is technology,] the system said in his mind, calmly giving facts.
"Shut the fuck up unless you've got something useful," Ryo growled, sliding around a corner.
Everything around him felt different. Lights that shone without mana, smooth white walls, doors that slid open with a hiss. It was cold and lifeless, like a world made of glass and metal.
A door ahead slid open by itself and two big men came out. Dressed in neat black clothes and hats, they held short sticks buzzing with electricity.
They stopped as they spotted the messy boy in a loose gown.
"There he is!" the first shouted, stick raised. They rushed together.
Ryo made a wild grin. Of course this body is weak compared to his old Emperor body. But he knows how to fight in any situation.
The first guard swung his stick in a curve. Ryo bent low smoothly, the charge burning the air near his cheek. He grabbed the arm, pulling it with a hard twist. Bone broke with a clear snap, bringing a deep scream as the guard fell to his knees.
The second charged in, but Ryo pulled the hurt man forward like a shield. The coming stick hit its own holder, electrolyzing him. They stumbled in a shaking mess.
Ryo used the mess and hit an elbow into the first guard's jaw, then spinning to kick right in the second's stomach. The hit sent him into the wall, where he fell, breathing hard.
Footsteps echoed loud from both ways—more people closing in like a trap. "Damn it all," Ryo hissed while searching a way out.
Then he saw a stair door split off to the side, and more men came up from below.
No way down. Up then.
He ran upward, taking the steps two at a time, lungs burning, heart pounding. This body was too soft—he could feel it shaking under the strain. Adrenaline pushed him through level after level—three, four—until he hit the top.
There's a thick door, sunlight leaking through its edges. He pushed it open with his shoulder and burst onto the roof area, wind blowing hard against his sweaty skin.
He stopped, sliding to a halt, breath taken not by running but by the view below. A huge city spread out forever: tall buildings of shiny glass and metal reaching the sky, lines of metal carts speeding on roads, lights blinking in patterns that mocked any spell he knew.
And above—giant winged machines flying through the air. "What in the hells… those things? Flying without wings or mana?"
"Spectra mentioned you might be… unconventional," a voice said, smooth like silk and full of fun. "But causing a full-scale lockdown chase right after waking? That's a new record."
Ryo turned fast with tight fists. A man leaned against the roof edge, dressed perfectly in a fitted suit.
Strong jaw, dark hair combed back, green eyes shining with interest.
He stood straight with hands loose in his pockets, showing a friendly smile. "Hello, Ryo Vesker."
"Welcome to The Agency."