The Libeus Agency's underground secret base hummed with the low, constant vibration of machinery that never slept.
Located beneath a bank in the heart of the city, it was a fortress of concrete and steel, hidden from the world above by layers of encryption and magical wards that would have made any demon think twice before approaching.
The corridors were sterile, white, lined with doors that required retinal scans and voice authentication and blood samples.
The air was filtered, recycled, devoid of any scent that might distract the agents who worked here.
Sara sat at her desk, her violet hair falling over her shoulders, her red eyes fixed on the reports spread before her.
She had been reading for hours, searching for something anything that would make sense of the incident at the port.
Her mind kept drifting back to the unknown figure, the woman with silver hair and black wings, the being who had frozen an entire port and emitted an aura so powerful that it had reached above the sky and destroyed a satellite in orbit.
She looked at the photograph again, the one the CCTV had captured near Bosco Culinary College. It was grainy, blurred, barely more than a silhouette.
But she had seen enough. She had felt enough. The presence that had radiated from that figure was not demonic. It was something else. Something older. Something worse than the Demon King.
She sighed, leaning back in her chair.
Dealing with demons was already stressful enough.
The Agency had been fighting them for centuries, tracking their movements, disrupting their rituals, killing their servants.
But the World Government had been making demands pressure to reveal the truth about this new Entity, this unknown threat that had appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. They were afraid.
The Demon King's power was already rising, and now there was something else, something that could kill hundreds of people without effort, something that even high-ranking demons could not scratch.
Sara read the report again. She could not believe it. The unknown figure had killed dozens of men criminals, yes, but still human and yet the official record stated that she had died by her own power. It was the only explanation that made sense, the only way to close the case, the only story that would satisfy the World Government.
But Sara did not believe it.
She had looked for evidence, scoured the scene, interviewed witnesses, analyzed the magical residue. Nothing. No trace of the figure's energy, no lingering aura, no sign that she had ever existed. It was as if she had simply vanished.
Unless someone is lying.
The thought was uncomfortable, but it would not leave her. The only way this powerful figure could have disappeared without a trace was if someone had helped her. Someone who had been there. Someone who had seen her. Someone who had chosen to protect her.
Someone like Fiona.
A mechanical voice interrupted her thoughts, crisp and emotionless.
"Chief, the Phoenix Unit Captain has arrived to meet with you."
Sara straightened in her chair, her fatigue vanishing behind a mask of cold professionalism. "Roger, Monday. Let her come in."
"Yes, Chief. Granting access to the chief's room."
The door hissed open, sliding into the wall with a sound that echoed through the silent room.
Fiona entered.
Her arm was wrapped in bandages, the white fabric stained with faint traces of blood. Her face was marked with cuts, some covered by bandages, others still healing. She looked like she had been through a battle a real battle, not the skirmishes that the Phoenix Unit usually handled. Her eyes were tired, and her shoulders were slumped, and she moved with the stiffness of someone who was still recovering from serious injuries.
She bowed.
"Chief, Phoenix Unit Captain Fiona, reporting as ordered."
Sara did not look at her. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor, on the image of the college campus, on the frozen figure standing in the snow.
"Phoenix Captain Fiona," she said, her voice flat, cold, devoid of emotion. "I did not expect to find you so beaten."
"My apologies, Chief," Fiona said, her voice steady despite her injuries. "The enemy was too powerful to handle."
Sara's eyes flickered to her, then back to the monitor. "That is not what I meant." She paused, letting the silence stretch.
"What I meant was that I am surprised it did not kill you. Based on the destruction recorded, that entity was far more powerful than the current demon king. It is difficult to believe that you faced it and survived with so few injuries."
Fiona did not respond. She kept her head bowed, her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands clasped behind her back.
She knew better than to meet the Chief's gaze during an interrogation. She knew better than to give her anything she could use.
Sara's gaze returned to the monitor, to the image of the college campus.
She had been looking at it for weeks, searching for something anything that would explain why the entity had appeared there. It was a culinary college, for heaven's sake.
A place where students learned to cook, where ordinary people lived ordinary lives. There was nothing there that should have attracted such a creature.
Unless there was.
"Do you have anything to say about this incident, Captain?" Sara asked.
Fiona's voice was carefully neutral, each word measured, weighed, tested before it left her lips. "I have no words for now, Chief. Whatever we knew, we included in the report."
Sara nodded slowly, as if considering a particularly difficult puzzle. "I know. But the report came from your unit, not from you." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "I want your testimony. Personally."
Fiona did not look up. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she kept her breathing steady, her face calm. She had been trained for this. She had been trained to lie.
"Why would a threat appear at a college campus?" Sara continued, her voice soft, almost conversational, as if she were discussing the weather. "And why did your unit respond so much faster than the others? Almost as if you knew something was going to happen."
Fiona said nothing.
Sara leaned forward, her crimson eyes fixed on the young captain's face. Her violet hair fell across her cheeks, and her lips curved into a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"I received a report from Dr. Jenny," she said slowly, drawing out each word, "that you were shielding a normal human. A student. One who was found to be suspicious."
Fiona's breath caught. It was a small sound, barely audible, but in the silence of the room, it might as well have been a scream.
Sara's smile widened.
"Tell me about him, Captain. Tell me about Yuuta Konuari."
Upon hearing Yuuta's name, Fiona looked up, and the reaction came before she could stop it, a flicker of fear surfacing in her eyes that lasted only a second but was more than enough.
Sara noticed it immediately, her gaze sharpening as a slow, knowing smile formed on her lips, the kind that came from quiet confirmation rather than surprise.
"So," she said, her voice calm and measured, carrying a certainty that pressed down on the room, "I was right."
Fiona stiffened at once, her response coming too quickly, almost as if she had been waiting to deny it before the accusation was even spoken.
"No, Chief… he's just a normal human," she said, her tone controlled but edged with urgency, and that urgency alone made the silence that followed feel heavier.
Sara did not respond immediately, choosing instead to study her, her eyes lingering with a patience that felt deliberate, almost predatory, as if she were peeling away layers without needing to touch them.
"You know Captain Phoenix," Sara said after a moment, her voice even as she leaned back slightly, her posture relaxed but her attention fully locked onto Fiona, "and I have been wondering how Dr. Jenny managed to supply Black Aura Stones, artifacts infused with enough aura to devour curses and seal relics powerful enough to destroy."
She let the words settle before continuing, her tone lowering just enough to carry weight. "Yet no proper source was ever recorded, which leaves only one question where did that aura come from?"
Fiona said nothing, because she already knew the answer would only tighten the situation around her.
The silence stretched, and in that silence, her thoughts turned inward, because the truth was simple and dangerous at the same time.
Dr. Jenny had never reported Yuuta because Fiona had asked her not to, because aura users were too rare, too valuable, and once the Agency discovered him, his life would no longer belong to him.
He would become something to be used, something to be controlled, and that was exactly what she had been trying to prevent from the beginning, yet now the very thing she feared was slowly coming into the light.
"Tell me, Fiona," Sara said at last, her voice colder now, no longer curious but demanding, "who is Yuuta, really?"
Fiona lowered her gaze for a brief moment before shaking her head, knowing that any direct answer would only drag him further into danger.
"Chief… I need time," she said, her voice steady despite the pressure building around her.
Sara's eyes narrowed slightly, her patience thinning just enough to be noticeable. "Time?" she repeated, her tone sharpening, "for what?"
Fiona drew in a quiet breath, forcing herself to remain composed despite the weight of Sara's attention pressing down on her.
"I want to reveal the truth myself," she said carefully, choosing each word with intent, "and I assure you, once I do, you will understand."
Sara did not answer immediately, and for a moment the room felt completely still, as if even the air was waiting.
"Interesting…" she murmured at last, her eyes glowing faintly as she observed Fiona more closely, measuring not just her words but the conviction behind them.
Fiona clenched her hands at her sides, the tension in her body betraying what her voice refused to show, because this was no longer just a conversation it was a line being drawn.
"So please… don't involve Yuuta Kounari," Fiona added, her voice quieter now, carrying something closer to a request than an argument, and that alone made Sara pause.
The silence returned once more, heavier this time, before Sara finally spoke again. "Very well," she said, her tone calm but decisive,
"I will allow it," and for a brief second, relief flickered across Fiona's face before Sara's next words erased it entirely.
"But if your 'truth' fails to satisfy me, I will look into this so-called human myself."
Fiona bowed her head immediately, her body responding before her thoughts could catch up. "Yes, Chief," she said, though her voice carried a faint tremor she could not fully suppress.
Sara watched her in silence, her gaze slowly shifting downward, settling on Fiona's neck, and something in her expression changed, something subtle but unmistakable, as hunger began to surface beneath her calm exterior.
"Come here, Fiona," Sara said softly, her voice lowering in a way that made the command feel almost gentle, though the intent behind it remained absolute.
Fiona rose without hesitation and stepped forward, lowering herself onto her knees in front of Sara, her posture composed, her movements deliberate despite the tension running through her body.
Sara reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Fiona's chin before tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck with a quiet, practiced ease.
"Be still," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, and Fiona obeyed without question. "Yes, Chief…" she replied softly, her eyes lowering as she prepared herself for what would come next, her body already tensing in anticipation.
Sara leaned in without warning, her fangs piercing through Fiona's skin with effortless precision, and a soft gasp escaped Fiona's lips as the sharp pain settled in.
"Ah… Chief… a little gentler…" she whispered, her voice strained but controlled, trying to endure it without breaking.
Sara closed her eyes, focusing entirely on the act, drinking slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the taste, her grip firm enough to keep Fiona still but not enough to harm her further.
Fiona clenched her hands tightly, her breathing uneven as she endured it, but her mind had already moved elsewhere, because none of this mattered as much as what was coming next.
Her thoughts turned to Erza, to the choice she now had to make, because the situation had reached a point where hesitation was no longer an option.
She had to convince her, had to bring her to the Agency, because if she failed, if she hesitated even once more, then Yuuta would be the one standing here next.
Meanwhile, in the Konuari apartment,
the morning light crept through the gaps in the curtains, casting pale gold stripes across the worn wooden floor. The city outside was waking slowly, the distant sound of traffic and birdsong filtering through the walls, but inside, there was only stillness. Only warmth. Only the soft rhythm of breathing.
Yuuta was asleep on the sofa, curled beneath a thin blanket with Elena tucked against his side. His face was peaceful, younger than his years, the lines of tension smoothed away by exhaustion. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell in the slow, steady rhythm of someone who had finally been allowed to rest.
Elena was pressed against him, her small body curled into a ball, her silver hair spread across his chest like spilled moonlight. One tiny hand clutched his shirt, holding on even in sleep, as if she was afraid he would disappear.
Erza watched them.
She had been sitting there for hours, watching him breathe, watching his chest rise and fall, watching the slow, steady rhythm of life that she had almost lost.
She was waiting for him to wake.
Waiting for the moment when his red eyes would open and he would look at her and smile and call her name. Waiting for the familiar annoyance of his presence, the warmth of his cooking, the sound of his laughter echoing through the small apartment.
But her mind was not on the waking. It was on the leaving.
Her eyes were on him, but her mind was elsewhere.
The future pressed against her like a wall of ice cold, unyielding, impossible to ignore.
She could feel it waiting beyond the edges of this moment, patient and patient, watching. A future where she had to leave him alone.
A future where she returned to Atlantis, to her throne, to her duty, and he remained here, in this small apartment, living a life she could not share.
Her heartbeat quickened.
It pressed against her like a weight invisible but undeniable, heavy as the ice she had shattered, cold as the wind she had flown through. She could feel it waiting beyond the edges of this moment, patient and patient, watching.
Leave him.
The words echoed in her skull.
Return to Atlantis.
Let him live his life.
She had made the decision. She had stood in the ice and accepted the truth. Yuuta could not come to Nova. The mana would break his seal. The memories would return. He would shatter.
But knowing a thing and accepting a thing were not the same.
Her heartbeat quickened.
She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling the pulse beneath her palm—fast, irregular, the heartbeat of a creature who had never known fear, now afraid of something as simple as distance.
How can I leave him?
She looked at her hand. Her fingers long and pale, tipped with nails that could become claws—trembled slightly.
I have to earn money for him.
The thought surfaced unbidden, practical and painful.
I have to give him a house. A life. Security.
She had wealth beyond counting in Atlantis gold and jewels, lands and titles, treasures that would make the kings of Earth weep with envy. But none of it could cross the barrier between worlds. None of it could be spent in Luna City, on rent and food and school tuition.
She would have to earn it here.
Then kill demons.
Then find people to protect him.
She could not be here always. She had duties in Atlantis a kingdom to rule, a throne to sit, a daughter who needed her. She would need to find others who could watch over Yuuta when she could not. Warriors. Guardians. Shadows who would never let him see them.
And then
She paused.
Her hand lowered to her lap.
Then she thought it the thought she had been avoiding, the thought that made her stomach twist and her heart clench.
He will have to marry someone.
She said it to herself, the words forming silently in her mind, and the very thought was so painful that she almost gasped. Her eyes burned. Her throat tightened. She looked at Yuuta's sleeping face peaceful, unguarded, beautiful and something inside her cracked.
Someone else. A new wife. A woman who would share his bed, bear his children, grow old beside him while Erza ruled a frozen kingdom on a world so far away that light itself would take years to travel between them. Someone who would hold his hand when he was afraid, who would laugh at his terrible jokes, who would be there when his childern took first steps and said first words and asked first impossible questions.
The very thought was so painful that Erza's vision blurred for a moment, and she had to remind herself that dragons did not cry. That she was the Dragon Queen.
But.... She did not want him to marry someone else.
She wanted to be the one who woke beside him every morning. Who cooked breakfast with him. Who watched the sunset with him. Who held his hand when he was scared and kissed his forehead when he was sad. But she was a dragon, and he was human, and their worlds could not be bridged without breaking him.
She understood, in the cold, logical part of her mind, that Yuuta needed a new life. A life where he would never think about her. A life where he could be happy, truly happy, without the weight of her absence pressing down on him. He deserved that. He deserved someone who could stay, someone who could grow old with him, someone who would not have to leave.
The thought was like swallowing glass.
But she would take these steps for his future. Every painful, heartbreaking step. She would earn him money. She would kill his enemies. She would find him protectors. And when the time came, she would step aside and let him live the life he deserved.
Even if it destroyed her to do it.
Then she leaned down.
Her lips brushed his forehead, soft as a whisper, warm despite the cold that always lingered beneath her skin. She lingered there longer than she meant to, breathing him in, committing the scent of him to memory coffee and sleep and something else, something that was just Yuuta.
"Wake up," she murmured against his skin, too quiet for anyone but him to hear. "You foolish, wonderful, impossible man. Wake up so I can pretend I don't love you for one more day."
She pulled back just as the morning light finally broke fully through the curtains, flooding the small apartment with gold.
Outside, Luna City was waking up people heading to work, children running to school, the world continuing to turn as if nothing had changed.
As if everything hadn't changed.
Erza sat back down in her chair and waited for Yuuta to open his eyes.
To be continued...