Ren stood alone outside near the entrance of his shop, marveling at the sea of stars that blanketed the night sky. No matter what world he was on, the beauty of the cosmos remained constant. It beckoned him in the same way a child would seek the attention of a doting parent.
Pulling out his pipe, he lit the chamber with a spark of magic and began suckling the mouthpiece. He really enjoyed the moment, the soothing feeling of tobacco leaves and the crisp night air.
The bell by the door rang.
“Is the girl finally asleep?” Ren asked, tilting his head slightly to acknowledge Andaleus’ presence.
“Yes. It took a while, but I eventually managed to console her with a song, ‘The March of the Last Pilgrims’. Can you imagine that?” exclaimed Andaleus as he walked over.
Ren chuckled and responded, “What I can imagine is the look on Grand Arbiter Jung’s face when she finds out her beloved Andaleus has been relegated to babysitting duty.”
The comment produced an unlikely smirk from the bald man. “I’d rather take on the full brunt of an exploding star than entertain that thought. Which reminds me, I still haven’t forgiven you for accidentally flying our starship into the red dwarf star in Tibor 7 that one time. Death by burning plasma wasn’t my idea of a vacation, and let’s not forget, we also lost that round because of you.”
“I remember. That did hurt quite a bit, haha.”
Ren began laughing, which in turn caused Andaleus to do the same. In the cold pre-dawn hours, the duo enjoyed a comedic moment from their shared history.
A breeze swept by, inducing Ren to cough violently. Andaleus extended a handkerchief, which Ren took and wiped the bright red blood off his lips.
“You’re dying,” Andaleus noticed. “Lady Luck expressly advised against using low level domain control. Bypassing the restriction exacts a heavy toll on our avatars.”
Grinning, Ren stuffed the bloody handkerchief into his pocket and retorted, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I misjudged Kain’s potency and got carried away. Lucy could care less though. If both of my avatars die, she automatically wins this round. By the way, how was dinner with the Queen and her retainers?”
“The usual. Those elitists are insufferable. Whether they’re nobility of a small kingdom or cosmic immortals governing the multiverse, they can't seem to look past their egos and biases,” lamented Andaleus.
“Aw, come on. I’m sure some good came out of it. I bet the Queen looked stunning.”
Andaleus, out of embarrassment, was loathe to concede the truth. It was all because of the damn influence of his avatar.
“My Lord, surely you jest. I am as much a prisoner in my avatar as you are. You know I can’t always suppress its feelings for Catherine.”
“Ooo, on a first name basis now are we?” Ren teased, watching Andaleus shyly avert his eyes.
A crimson beam of light, like a shooting star, suddenly flashed across the sky, interrupting their conversation. Ren and Andaleus instantly turned their gazes south.
“That’s going to be a problem. Would you like me to intercept?” asked Andaleus.
“No, not unless you want to destroy your avatar. Since your restrictions are heavier than mine, it’s better that I handle the Domain Administrators. I need you to do some other things in the meantime.” Ren passed a piece of paper with instructions.
Andaleus perused the list. Before departing, there was one last thing he wanted in confirm. “Does our win condition have anything to do with the girl? Is that why you’re making your moves now?”
“I see you’ve been doing some investigating on your own,” Ren replied, eyeing Andaleus. “Lucy only gave us one clue, which means it alone should be enough to point us the way. Admittedly, I was stumped for a while, that is until I stumbled across records of a certain fallen house, the House of Welcrest. Guess what their emblem was?”
“The Phoenix...Ah, I see where your theory is leading. I shall be going then, my Lord.” With a bow and swish of his cloak, Andaleus was gone.
_____
Yuna peeked out from a hidden window in her safehouse. In the late hours, large pieces of linen, hanging on thick ropes high above the streets, swayed back and forth under the wind’s gentle embrace. To reduce costs, local textile manufacturers often air-dried freshly dyed linen in the open. Consequently, this part of the slums was nicknamed ‘Flower Town’ for its colorful decor.
Glancing at the clock, Yuna decided it was time.
“Sorry, Grandma Nan. I’m probably not going to have the chance to return this dress to you,” thought Yuna as she slipped out of an expensive white lace dress and changed into black garbs, the typical wear for Syndicate assassins.
She smiled, recalling fondly of the morning spent with Grandma Nan picking out the dress. The experience was a departure from the norm. Ordinary things like gushing over cute clothes and applying makeup were luxuries that an assassin couldn’t afford. If her parents hadn’t died and Master Icarus hadn’t found the seven-year-old her half-starved on the streets, then maybe her life would be totally different today.
With nimble hands, Yuna wiped the makeup off her face, undid her hair, and equipped her katana and throwing knives. When one lived in poverty and vice, looking pretty often attracted unwanted attention and danger. Attractive girls like Yuna learned early on that, to survive, they needed to either obtain personal power or sell their freedom for protection. In Yuna’s case, she chose the former and walked the path of an assassin.
As a matter of fact, through discipline and hard work, Yuna had become one of the most promising youths in the Syndicate. At the age of sixteen, she was already a ki’sha’o, or rank two assassin, whereas most of her peers were either unranked or na’sha’o. Once she achieved do’sha’o, she would become eligible to participate in the Syndicate council.
Someone knocked on the door. Five evenly-paced taps indicated that the visitor was the person Yuna had been waiting for.
“Open up, Yuna. Quick! I know you’re in there!” a familiar voice shouted from the other side.
Yuna unlocked the bolts and opened the door. Standing in front of her was a tall, blue-eyed boy, not much older than Yuna. A sheathed katana was buckled to his side and a bow and quiver slung on his back.
“Victor. What’s wrong?” Yuna inquired, hearing the urgency in his voice.
“You’re alive!” Victor exhaled with relief and hugged her.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there Victor.”
Victor’s sudden closeness surprised her, since it was very uncharacteristic of him to openly display such affection. They were long-time friends, but he had always maintained a certain physical distance.
Closing the door behind, Victor swiftly moved to the window and looked outside.
“Crap. They’re already here. I see three of them,” he stated, gesturing at Yuna to come look.
From above, Yuna was able to pick out three moving shapes enter the outer stairwell leading to her safehouse.
“You better tell me what in Goddess Nyx’s name is going on,” whispered Yuna fiercely.
Victor’s face was all grim, replying, “I’ll make a long story short. The Syndicate has put a kill order on you.”
“What?! Why?” The situation sounded a whole lot worse all of sudden. It didn’t make sense why the Syndicate, her own people, would go after her.
“Trust me, Yuna. I was sent here by Master Icarus to warn you, so we need to go, now. I’ll explain everything later.”
Although Victor’s explanation spawned more questions than answers, Yuna agreed to ask him later. She pushed aside the doubt on her mind, such as why the syndicate wanted to kill her and, if so, why Master Icarus was betraying the council to protect her. Master Icarus was known for being extremely loyal to the Syndicate’s cause. Rumors had it that she even exiled her own son for failing an important mission ten years ago.
“The stairwell is cut off. Is there another way out of this place?” asked Victor, scrummaging around the safehouse.
“Yes. If you pull that string by the shelf, a ladder will detach and lead to the rooftop. It’s why I chose this place as a safehouse,” replied Yuna.
“Okay, let’s go then.” Victor pulled his hood over and tied a sash to cover his face, which Yuna mimicked. Just as he pulled the string, the safehouse door abruptly blasted open, dust and debris flying everywhere. Three assassins stepped out from the cloud of dust, each brandishing a katana of their own.
“Shit! Go. I’ll hold them off,” coughed Victor, unsheathing his katana.
“What about you?” Yuna questioned worryingly.
“I’ll be fine! There’s still more of them out there. If you stay here, we’ll be surrounded,” stated Victor.
“Traitor,” angrily uttered the assassin in the middle.
“Yuna, go, GO!”
Hesitantly, Yuna heeded Victor’s order and deftly climbed the ladder. The sounds of clashing steel sent Yuna’s heart racing in fear for her friend. While Victor’s blade skills were even better than hers, though she’d never admit it openly to him, taking on three trained opponents was a daunting task. She hated ditching him, but he was right. With her familiarity of the neighborhood, she could lead the remaining assassins on a merry chase. It was better than directly confronting their opponents with a numbers disadvantage.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Out on the rooftop, Yuna came to a halt. A single female assassin, bearing dual mid-sized katanas, stood waiting.
“Guess you do make mistakes after all, huh?” mocked the girl.
“Cassidy,” Yuna replied, pulling out her blade.
Yuna recognized the voice almost immediately. Cassidy was the last person she wanted to see right now. They joined the Syndicate at around the same time but were never able to get along. Over the years, their mutual dislike turned into a toxic rivalry. Yuna always came out ahead, whether it was during field performance tests or sparring sessions, which only further incited the other girl’s jealousy.
“For old times sake, Cassidy, why is the Syndicate after me?”
The girl shrugged. “No idea. Do we ever know get to know the ‘why’? I just know we’re here to kill you.” An evil smile spread across her face. She licked the side of one of her blades.
”If the mission is to kill me, why did they send a na’sha’o to do the job?”
Cassidy snorted, which grated on Yuna’s nerves. “You didn’t hear, I suppose? I’ve just been promoted to ki’sha’o,” she bragged.
It was Yuna’s turn to smirk. “I see. And how many of the do'sha'o did you have to sleep with to get that promotion?”
“You bitch!” Cassidy’s voice turned furious.
The girl angrily raised her blades and charged. Gripping her hilt tightly, Yuna parried Cassidy’s aggressive lunge and proceeded to counterattack with a diagonal cut, which Cassidy expertly dodged.
While the girls displayed their repertoire of advanced blade techniques, another assassin silently watched on a rooftop across the street. He held a Vahrillian crossbow, known for its deadly accuracy, and had the sight resting on Yuna. If Yuna had seen his face, she would’ve have recognized him as Grimvick, a widely feared do’sha’o. Grimvick was cold, methodical, and efficient, the pinnacle of assassins. He also happened to be in charge of this mission.
“Useless,” the man scoffed, referring to the three assassins he had sent in. They couldn’t even stop a single girl from escaping.
After a dozen or so exchanges, the girls backed away from each other. Generally swordfights didn’t last very long between combatants of widely disparate skill levels. The more skilled combatant would usually execute a decisive strike within a short period of time. But this wasn’t the case between Yuna and Cassidy. They had sparred many times in the past and were familiar with each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Hence, not one could find a critical flaw in the other’s stance.
“Been a while since we last fought. You haven’t improved,” said Cassidy, trying to catch her breath.
“Neither have you.” Yuna sheathed her katana and crouched, hovering her right hand just above the hilt. “Let’s end this. I’ll show you what Master Icarus has recently taught me.”
“Impossible. The Dragon Reversal Blade Draw!?” Cassidy blurted.
She cautiously altered her stance and nervously eyed the rooftop across the street. She couldn’t back down now, not with Grimvick watching. Having no choice, Cassidy attacked once more. In three breaths time, the two came within range for the final exchange just as Grimvick fired the crossbow.
Yuna sensed something was amiss, but she couldn’t react fast enough to the surprise attack. The arrow caught Yuna’s side, causing her to collapse on all fours, but not before she unleashed the Dragon Reversal. Her blade swung up in a beautiful crescent arc, like a dragon challenging the heavens and reversing its fortunes.
“Arghh, fuck!” Cassidy screamed, dropping both blades. There was a trail of blood escaping the deep gash in her right arm. “Fuck!”
Yuna spat a mouthful of blood and grabbed her side. Groaning in pain, she inspected the damage and knew that her prognosis didn’t look good.
“Lady Luck really hates me,” thought Yuna. She’d been flirting with death far too often recently, albeit this time she was actually going to die. For some reason, she suddenly thought of Ren, with his hazel eyes and oversized spectacles.
Gloating at her opponent’s imminent demise, Cassidy picked up a katana with her good arm and prepared to deal the final blow. Yuna stared the other girl down, defiant until the last breath, but the stroke never connected. With what could only be described as miraculous, the blade shattered into a thousand pieces when it was mere inches from Yuna’s face. Then she fell unconscious.
“I hope I’m not late, ladies,” a deep imposing voice resounded in the night. A bald figure wearing a wooden mask and dark green coat appeared from nowhere.
“Who are you?” stuttered Cassidy, her limbs dangling in shock. The very same question was also on Grimvick’s mind as he observed from afar.
“A magician! How did he teleport here?” Grimvick wondered. For teleportation to work, in addition possessing highly advanced magic, the man would’ve needed to draw two matching gateway circles, one at the origin and the other at the destination. It was inconceivable for the magician to have planned all of this ahead of time.
Moreover, having seen the individual’s powerful magic effortlessly shatter Therasian steel left an uneasy feeling in his gut. The magician screamed ‘danger’. Out of instinct, Grimvick loaded another steel bolt and fired at the interfering stranger. However, to Grimvick’s alarm, the masked man casually flicked his wrist and deflected the bolt’s trajectory, causing it to clatter harmlessly on the ground.
“What the fuck?” Grimvick cursed. He had never seen anyone deflect his arrow. “What was that inhuman reaction speed!”
Drawing from years of experience in the field, Grimvick quickly understood that the situation had turned unfavorable. He signalled retreat. Cassidy, having no intention of fighting a magician, eagerly obeyed and escaped onto an adjacent rooftop.
Andaleus watched as the assassins ran with their tails tucked between their legs. They were of no concern to him. Ren had only permitted him to save the girl, not purposelessly meddle with the Syndicate. With the danger neutralized, he examined the unconscious girl’s wounds and decided to put her in stasis, as the damage was beyond his avatar to heal.
“Vita Crystallum.”
Yuna outer extremities crystallized, then the fragments began expanding until every part of her was covered in a thirty centimeter thick crystal coffin. In this state, she was neither alive nor dead. Satisfied, Andaleus placed a hand on the chrysalis and vanished along with it, returning the neighborhood to its peace and quiet.
_____
“Lord Vorgesson, the royal advisors have something to report,” spoke a young attendant, bowing in front of a willowy, old man in a dark blue robe.
Despite hearing the message, Vorgesson, the renowned Royal Chamberlain, took his time carefully penning down his remaining thoughts on paper. When he had finished, he calmly placed the pen down and clasped his hands together. “What is it, Tom?”
“My Lord, some of the advisors claim to have witnessed a scarlet night! Is it the aforementioned prophecy?”
“I have seen it myself. Tell them to keep their mouths shut until I get a chance to pacify the king,” ordered Vorgesson. “I don’t want anyone spewing nonsense.”
“Yes, Lord Vorgesson.”
The old man got up and walked over to the balcony. He gazed at the moon with his hands behind his back.
“What do you think this all means?” asked Vorgesson.
“I don’t know, my Lord, but the prophecy isn’t terribly reassuring,” answered Tom.
“Night of scarlet rays, the end of the king’s days,” Vorgesson repeated the prophecy. “Do you know the history behind the scarlet prophecy, Tom?”
“No, my Lord,” said Tom, shaking his head.
“According to ancient records, the last time that the sky flashed bright red, the Mavelians claimed that Goddess Nyx herself descended from the heavens. Forlorn with pity, she gifted them with innovation, inspiring progress that laid the foundation for future civilizations. For thousands of years thereafter, the Nyxean Church was the dominant religion in the region. In the ninth century, Pope Titus, after having been insulted by the Jandarian king at the time, cursed the king, resulting in the scarlet prophecy we know today. Thus began the decline of Jandar’s relationship with the Nyxean Church.”
“I had no clue we had such a history, Lord Vorgesson. I had always been taught that the Nyxean Church betrayed Jandar during the Therasian Invasion, which was why we banned the Church from the kingdom,” remarked Tom.
“Heh. You’re a smart boy. History is rarely as it seems.”
Tom hid his surprise at the revelation, but he was curious and couldn’t help asking, “Will the king be okay after hearing about this? Rumors have that His Majesty isn’t quite right of mind as of late."
“Braveness and youth often go hand in hand. If certain ears had heard what you just said, they’d be eager to relieve you of your head.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said,” stammered Tom. “I’m just afraid of what this all means.”
“It’s fine,” assured Vorgesson. “I was only joking.”
Tom wiped the sweat off his brows.
“Truth be told, I don’t know, Tom,” sighed Vorgesson. “I hope this means nothing at all.”
_____
Despite Lord Vorgesson’s wishes, the scarlet night would herald the beginning of great tribulation. Unknown to Lumeria’s inhabitants, two powerful cosmic immortals arrived on the planet. As Domain Administrators, caretakers of the Titan Universe, they were the symbol of order and authority.
The two entities blinked into existence in a particular alleyway in Hapensburg. They stood two meters tall, each wearing sleek, full-body mech armor designed to look imposing. Behind their tinted v-shaped visors were AI interfaces that connected them to the central intelligence hub.
While Ren’s and Andaleus’ presences on Lumeria were unintrusive and gentle, the Administrators exuded dominance that barely concealed their scorn for lesser beings. Small creatures of the night cowered in fear. Newborn babies wailed in their cribs to the dismay of confused parents.
If it hadn’t been for Regulation CIX.009028, requiring all cosmic immortals to restrict their auras, the Administrators would’ve had no scruples unleashing their full auras to lure out the rogue immortal. It would have made their jobs much easier, but it would’ve also annihilated all life on Lumeria. The paperwork would get messy.
“Are you sure this is the source, Adjutant Minx?” questioned one of the Domain Administrators, a reptilian humanoid covered in red hexagonal scales. On the top left corner of his visor was the live feed of Adjutant Minx, a cute orange-haired Oscallion, famous for their telepathic powers and small stature. She was providing assistance to the Administrators behind a desk at HQ.
Minx rolled her eyes. Lizcarians weren’t exactly praised for their intelligence, but what they lacked in that department, they made up for with a high affinity for ascension. From the time they were born, Lizcarians began absorbing the cosmic ether at statistically-defying rates. Thus, Lizcarians were known to achieve cosmic immortality faster and more frequently than other species on average.
“Yes, Administrator Zvklevc. That’s what the system shows. Approximately 0.0000035 cycles ago, Centarius Minor detected unauthorized use of Tier 5 domain control at this exact spot. The rogue subject ripped the souls out of two mortals and destroyed their bodies,” Minx responded.
“Did you process the souls for questioning?” asked the other Domain Administrator, a tall feminine man with snow-white hair.
“Yes, Grand Administrator Ethaelus. Unfortunately, we couldn’t retrieve any latent memories.” Minx was a lot happier to respond to the latter. Like many others, she had a crush on him, not just for his looks, but also for his achievements in the Kerillian War. He had simultaneously defeated ten Paragon Advents at the ‘Battle of the Iron Planets’ while only being a Paragon Advent himself. This gave rise to his now famous alias, the ‘Prince of the Iron Planets’.
Zvklevc secretly sulked, obviously noticing the energetic shift in Minx’s tone when she talked to Ethaelus. “Damn, partnering with him any longer is going to completely kill my game,” he mulled.
Oblivious to his partner's envy, Ethaelus furrowed his eyebrows. “Has Centarius Minor detected domain control on this planet before?”
“Let me check real quick.” Minx neurally sorted through trillions of file logs. “According to the records, a Tier 6 domain control occured around 100 cycles ago. It was an authorized visitation from one named, Minerva Nyx, a Cosmic Advent. Oh, wait, I found another one. Interesting…”
“What is it?” asked Zvklevc.
“I don’t know why this wasn’t flagged. Centarius Minor picked up a Tier 6 domain control 0.000055 cycles ago. There are no other details, but it might have been our rogue subject. I’m sending all the information to your suits.”
“It was a weak signal, possibly within the error parameters,” concluded Ethaelus once he had assessed the information.
“Well, the subject isn’t escaping anywhere. The Quarantine Zone has already been activated. Let’s just authorize an Aurealis Scepter and find him,” suggested the Lizcarian.
“I concur.”
“Requesting authorization for an Aurealis Scepter. Please standby,” spoke the AI’s androgynous voice. Moments later the AI indicated that the request had been approved.
Zvklevc raised his hand, summoning a magnificent silver rod. He then slammed the tip of the rod onto the ground. An undetectable shockwave propagated from the point of impact and quickly encompassed the whole planet.
“Hmm, strange. The scepter didn’t pick up any cosmic immortals other than us,” commented Zvklevc.
“The subject may have already left the planet,” spoke Ethaleus. Either that or the rogue immortal was capable of hiding from the scepter’s detection.
“This kind of sucks. Where do we look now?”
“I don’t think we’ll be needing to worry about that,” said Ethaleus, noticing a figure blink into view in front of them.
The stranger smiled and pushed up his large spectacles, which glinted in the moonlit night. “Good evening, Administrators. I believe there’s been some sort of a misunderstanding.”