Jun ran.
Every step felt heavier than the last. His legs ached, lungs burned, and his heart thundered like a drum. Behind him, voices shouted, and boots pounded the streets.
"Find him! Don't let him escape!"
The commands cut through the night like knives, sharp and relentless. Panic surged, clawing at his chest, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
A narrow alley appeared, dark and cold. Jun dove into it, pressing against the rough wall, hands clamped over his mouth. Footsteps passed the entrance, fast and furious.
"Where did he go?! Search the area!"
The echoes faded slowly, leaving only his ragged breaths and the faint smell of smoke on the wind. He waited. They were gone.
He forced himself to move again, stumbling through the empty streets. Distant sirens wailed, dogs barked somewhere in the shadows, and the smell of smoke grew stronger. His steps carried him to the police station.
Relief surged. "I'm safe…" he whispered.
But he stopped.
Voices—calm, familiar—drifted from inside.
He peered through the glass and froze. The men who had killed his parents were inside, speaking casually with the police. Laughing. Smiling. One officer even nodded at them as if nothing had happened. Jun's stomach turned. No one would help him. No one could.
He ran again, slower this time, numb with shock. Finally, his steps carried him toward his street. His home.
Or what was left of it.
Flames roared into the night sky.
The house is burning.
Heat pressed against Jun's face, thick smoke stinging his eyes, filling his lungs with ash and bitter scent. The fire consumed everything: the old bicycle he had learned to ride on, his mother's carefully tended flowers, photographs of birthdays, family dinners, toys, books, bedtime stories… every fragment of his childhood reduced to glowing embers. All his sweet memories were gone.
Jun fell to his knees, trembling, tears streaming down his face.
"…Why…?"
His voice barely reached the night. Nothing answered him. Only the roar of the fire and the crackle of collapsing wood.
The mark on his wrist flared suddenly, burning stronger this time. Jun looked down. The strange warmth pulsed beneath his skin. And then he felt it—the presence that had been with him before. The red-eyed snake. Watching. Always watching. Even now, from the shadows.
Far away, hidden beyond the human world, Kei's red eyes burned. He had seen everything: Jun running, helpless; the men striking; the fire consuming his home. He had watched the boy's memories die in flames and felt the helplessness gnawing at him. He could not intervene. Not here, not yet. But he would grow stronger. He would make sure he could protect Jun next time. With a heavy heart, Kei coiled himself and left the human world behind, heading toward his clan, toward power, toward strength.
Jun stood slowly, knees weak, body shaking, staring at the ashes of his life. The sweetness of his childhood—his laughter, his parents' love, the warmth of home—was gone.
Only one thing remained: the fire of revenge burning inside him.
"…I'll kill them," he whispered, voice low but steady.
"I don't care who they are…"
"I'll destroy every single one of them."
And somewhere far away, in the shadows of the unknown, Kei's massive serpent body stirred. Red eyes glowed, alive, aware, fixed on a single existence: Jun.
The bond had awakened.
Alive.
Waiting.
And in the distance, a faint flicker of red seemed to move among the smoke and ruins, like a promise… or a warning.