The living room still smelled of worry. The curtains fluttered in the night air; the television whispered news about the Eclipse Incident.
Kaito's mother clutched a cup that had long gone cold. His little sister sat wordless beside her, eyes rimmed red.
Alia's voice broke the silence.
> "I'll call my cousin."
Everyone looked up. The way she said it—steady, certain—made even Arthur stop pacing.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled until a name flashed: Alexander Roche Alvers—Regan No. 2.
---
Inside a private gym drenched in white lights, a young man raised a dumbbell that looked heavier than steel itself. Sweat ran down the side of his face, tracing the edge of his sharp jawline.
White hair fell over one eye, and when his phone buzzed, he caught it mid-air without looking.
> "Alia?" His tone was casual, a soft echo under the hum of machinery. "You called after a long time. What's the work?"
The weight hit the floor with a thud.
> "I need your help," Alia said. "You have to save someone."
His brows twitched. "Save who?"
> "Kaito Hiroshi."
A pause—too long.
The muscles in Alexander's arm flexed as he straightened.
> "A Catherine boy?"
Her breath hitched. "…Yes."
Silence. Then a faint chuckle. " I Don't.I Don't work for nothing." His voice lost its warmth, turned clipped and official.
> "Please, brother. Please." Her words cracked. "He was captured because he has Eclipse powers."
He froze mid-movement. Eclipse powers.
The dumbbell rolled away, clattering against the mirror wall. He exhaled once, slowly, then lifted the phone back.
> "…Eclipse power, huh."
Another heartbeat.
> "Fine. I'll come."
The line went dead.
---
Alexander dropped onto a bench, staring at his reflection.
Blue eyes—sharp, cold.
He wiped his face with a towel, then unlocked his phone and scrolled through the chaos-filled headlines:
> "City Under Lunar Lockdown."
"Eclipse Boy Causes Nationwide Panic.
He smirked faintly.
> "So, boy… you're the cause of all this."
A low hum filled the gym. He stood, stretched once, and pulled on his jacket—the Regan emblem stitched in silver at the collar.
---
Cut back — Kaito's house.
The faint sound of the call ending echoed in the quiet room. Alia lowered her phone slowly.
> "He said yes," she whispered.
Relief rippled through the air like a soft current.
Kaito's mother covered her mouth, her eyes glistening.
Sui Hiroshi, standing by the window, finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
> "Then I'm going too," he said, firm, the voice of a father who'd made up his mind.
Alia shook her head.
> "No, Mr. Hiroshi. You don't have to. He's Regan No. 2. He's… enough by himself."
> "I can't just stay," he said, voice low. "If anything happens to my son—"
> "He'll bring him back." Her eyes didn't waver. "He promised me once he never breaks his word."
Hiroshi looked at her—a flash of recognition, of trust—and finally nodded.
Mina sat quietly on the sofa, arms folded. Arthur stood behind her, fists tight at his sides.
Then Arthur spoke, his tone edged with something fierce.
> "I'll go too."
The room went still.
Mina turned, startled.
> "Why would you go?"
> "Because he's my friend." His voice rose slightly. "Because if I stay here, I'll regret it."
Mina's eyes narrowed.
> "You don't have any ability, Arthur. No power, no weapon. You'll just be a burden."
> "Maybe." He met her glare. "But even if I can't fight, I can help. I'll drive, I'll distract, I'll do anything."
The air hung heavy between them. The lamp flickered once.
Then Mina sighed.
> "You're impossible."
Arthur smiled faintly, though his eyes betrayed the same fear everyone felt.
---
Alia looked at the group—each face carrying exhaustion, guilt, hope.
> "Then it's settled. Alexander will move tonight. We wait for his signal."
Kaito's mother placed her hands together, whispering something no one caught.
Outside, sirens still cried in the distant streets.
Arthur stepped out to the veranda. The night sky burned faint silver from the moon, the same moon that caused all of this. He stared up and muttered,
> "Hold on, Kaito. Just a little longer."
---
Cut — Late night.
In his gym, Alexander zipped his jacket, slung a black case over his shoulder, and walked out.
The automatic lights shut off one by one behind him.
Outside, the city wind hit his face, carrying the smell of smoke and metal.
He tapped his earpiece.
> "Regan No. 2, Alexander Roche. Moving to Krai Mountain perimeter."
The response came crisp through static.
> "Acknowledged. Mission status?"
> "official. FERN mission ."
A pause on the other end. Then, quietly:
> "Understood. Good luck, sir."
Alexander smirked.
> "Luck's for people who plan to lose."
He started the bike—engine roaring like a beast awakening—and the scene blurred into streaks of light as he vanished into the highway.
---
Back at Kaito's home, 11 p.m.
Arthur leaned against the railing, eyes half-closed. Mina joined him after a while, holding two mugs of coffee.
> "You're still going?" she asked.
> "Yeah."
> "You're stubborn."
> "You care too much," he replied, a crooked grin forming.
She looked away, lips pressed, as if hiding a smile.
Inside, Alia's voice carried faintly—explaining the plan again to Kaito's parents.
Mina took a sip.
> "Do you think Alexander will make it?"
Arthur nodded.
> "He's Regan No. 2. He'll make it."
Then, quieter:
> "He has to."
---
The camera drifts upward through the ceiling—
to the night sky stretching above the city,
to the faint red glow pulsing in the clouds,
to the moon watching silently over all of them.
Somewhere far away, beneath that same sky, a boy slept in a capsule of black metal—
and the world kept moving toward him.
---
The car sped through the empty streets, its headlights slicing through the dim fog.
City lights flickered behind, and ahead lay only darkness — the kind that whispered secrets of things buried deep.
Inside the car, the air was tense. Every breath sounded louder than it should have.
Alia sat by the window, her crimson eyes fixed on the blur of passing buildings. Her reflection on the glass looked pale, tired, but determined.
> Kaito... you were always alone, weren't you?
You never smiled, never talked unless someone forced you to.
But I saw it — that small flicker in your eyes when Arthur said something stupid, that soft tone when you said 'thank you.'
Her hands were clasped tightly over her lap. She could still remember his expression that day — the faint confusion when everyone avoided him, the loneliness that no one dared to acknowledge.
> You didn't deserve any of this... being treated like a curse.
You never hurt anyone. You only wanted peace. So why... why are you the one suffering the most?
Her phone screen glowed faintly.
A message from Alexander — short, precise:
> "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't act reckless."
Her heart clenched slightly. Even though he had agreed to help, she could tell he wasn't doing it out of sympathy. He wanted to see the Eclipse power — the same reason the world feared Kaito.
Still, if that got him moving… then she would take it.
The hum of the car engine filled the silence.
Outside, the roads were almost empty now — curfew had made the city a ghost.
Arthur sat beside her, his face turned away, eyes lost in the reflection of streetlights.
He hadn't said a word since they left home.
---
Arthur's POV
What the hell am I even doing?
He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window.
His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white.
> I was supposed to be his best friend.
The one person who should've been there when everyone turned away.
And yet — I couldn't even protect him.
His heart throbbed painfully. Every thought of Kaito chained, bleeding, or alone inside that lab made his stomach twist.
Alia — a girl who barely knew him — was risking everything.
Alexander — her cousin — someone with no reason to care, had decided to help.
> And me? What did I do? Just... watched him get dragged away.
Arthur's jaw tightened.
He hated himself.
For being powerless. For being scared.
He looked at Alia beside him — her expression calm but eyes filled with something deep, fierce, and fragile all at once.
He envied her courage.
> "Arthur," a low voice came from the driver's seat.
It was Sui Hiroshi, Kaito's father.
His face was composed, but the veins in his hands on the steering wheel told another story — trembling with suppressed rage and fear.
> "Don't sulk," Sui said, not taking his eyes off the road.
"We'll get him for sure. He's my son. I won't let them keep him another night."
Arthur looked up.
That calm yet powerful conviction from Sui hit him like a wave.
> "Yeah…" Arthur muttered, his voice rough.
"We'll get him back."
And this time, he meant it.
---
Back to Alia's POV
The car entered the older part of town.
Rusty lamp posts leaned toward the cracked roads. Buildings looked abandoned, their windows boarded, shadows crawling behind them.
> Old subway... she thought, clutching her phone again.
That's where Kaito is.
Her crimson butterflies — the faint trace of her weak crimson aura — had followed him that night.
Through pain, through fading vision, through exhaustion.
Now only one remained active.
> Just hold on a bit longer...
She felt a strange weight in her chest — a mix of dread and hope.
Each passing second felt longer, heavier.
The GPS blinked. They were close.
Sui Hiroshi slowed the car, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the map.
The road dipped downward into an area covered by overgrown vines and flickering warning signs.
> "This is it," he said.
The car stopped with a soft screech.
The engine went silent — and so did the world around them.
The air outside smelled of rust and damp concrete. Somewhere far below, a faint echo — maybe water dripping, maybe something else — resonated like a heartbeat.
Arthur opened the door first.
A rush of cold air hit his face, making him flinch.
Alia stepped out next, her long silver-white hair swaying lightly in the night wind.
Sui closed the car door behind him and glanced at them both.
> "Stay close," he said.
"And if anything feels wrong, run. I'll handle the rest."
They nodded silently.
Far ahead, the entrance to the old subway tunnel loomed like the mouth of something ancient — wide, dark, breathing out cold air.
Alia's phone buzzed again.
A message.
From Alexander.
> "I'm here."
She looked up.
And through the mist, under the flickering yellow streetlight — a tall figure approached.
White hair, sharp eyes, his steps steady, confident.
Even without words, his presence felt heavy — like someone used to battlefields.
Alexander stopped a few feet away, his gaze sweeping over the three of them before landing on Alia.
> "So," he said, voice calm, "the Catherine boy is down there?"
Alia nodded slowly.
> "Yes… Kaito Hiroshi. He's still alive."
Alexander looked toward the tunnel entrance.
Then smirked faintly.
> "Good. Then let's see what kind of monster the world is so afraid of."
The wind howled softly as if the darkness itself had heard him.
And before anyone could say another word — he stepped forward, disappearing into the tunnel's shadow.
---
Darkness.
That was all there was.
Kaito couldn't even see his own hands.
He felt like floating in nothing — surrounded by thick, pressurized air that hummed faintly like a living machine.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
Still nothing. Only the faint pulsing of his heartbeat in his ears and the muffled echo of voices from outside the capsule.
> Where am I?
How long... have I been here?
His throat was dry. His body ached like his blood had turned to lead.
He turned slightly — the walls of the capsule were smooth and cold, the faint smell of metal and chemicals mixed in the air.
Every breath burned slightly.
Then… a voice.
Low, faint, distorted through the capsule's thick wall.
Male. Calm. Confident.
> "He's awake," someone said.
"Vitals are stable. Heart rate— steady."
Kaito pressed his palm against the capsule wall.
His voice cracked when he spoke — dry, uncertain, but still steady enough to be heard.
> "Who are you…?" he said quietly. "And why did you capture me?"
Silence for a moment.
Then footsteps. Slow. Approaching.
A shadow appeared faintly beyond the black glass.
And then, a familiar voice— cold, composed.
Kuro.
> "Boy," Kuro said, his tone chillingly calm, "be silent and listen."
There was no sympathy in his voice — only purpose.
> "We want your Eclipse power. You have something that the world needs to see — and something the world fears."
Kaito's breath hitched slightly.
So that's what it was.
His silence made Kuro tilt his head slightly, as if bored already.
> "You'll understand soon enough," Kuro said and turned, his coat rustling softly as he walked away.
The faint metallic footsteps faded.
Then another voice appeared.
Nervous, shaky — Samuel.
> "Are you okay…?" he muttered. "Kuro shouldn't talk like that to kids."
Kaito didn't answer.
He only sat still in the suffocating dark, his heartbeat echoing louder.
And then, he got an idea.
> If I can't fight… I'll trick them.
He inhaled deeply — then began to cough. Violently.
The sound echoed through the capsule — sharp gasps, choked breaths, trembling shoulders.
He let his body go limp, his breathing irregular.
His pulse slowed deliberately — his body still under his control through his intense focus.
"Vitals dropping!" Samuel's panicked voice echoed from outside.
He scrambled, grabbing a syringe and chemical vials from the table.
> "He's going into cardiac arrest—!"
Samuel's hands shook as he mixed two compounds — Neutralizer 47 and Vantablack core fragments.
A faint vapor rose, biting through the sterile air.
He pressed the mixture near the capsule's surface, preparing to inject through a micro-valve —
but a sharp voice interrupted.
Sinon.
> "Stop."
Her heels clicked against the steel floor as she approached, black suitcase in hand.
Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses.
> "Check the CCTV feed first."
Samuel hesitated.
> "But—!"
> "Now."
The camera feed blinked onto the side screen.
Inside — Kaito was perfectly still, eyes open, staring back at them through the black glass.
Alive.
Unharmed.
And faintly… smirking.
Samuel froze.
> "He… he was acting—?"
Sinon's glare hardened.
> "You idiot. Do you want to kill him before the test even begins?"
She slapped his hand away from the panel.
> "This boy isn't dying that easily. Don't underestimate what we're dealing with."
She turned and walked off, heels striking sharply.
Samuel lowered his head in shame.
The mixture he'd prepared dripped slightly on the capsule's outer surface.
It didn't pierce the unbilium alloy — but something unseen happened.
The neutralizer vapors reacted faintly with the vantablack layer coating the capsule's interior wall.
A microscopic crack — invisible to the human eye — rippled along the surface.
Tiny, nearly imperceptible scratches appeared like veins under the black coating.
Inside, Kaito noticed it.
A faint hiss. A subtle shift in the air.
The sound of something weakening.
His eyes opened wider.
And for the first time since being captured—
he smiled.
> Just a little more.
Keep making mistakes.
He leaned back slowly, eyes closing again.
The capsule hummed around him.
But now, it wasn't a prison anymore.
It was a cocoon waiting to break.
---
Two hours passed.
Outside, the facility's underground lab grew quieter.
The only sounds — the soft clatter of data pads, the hum of old generators, and the faint dripping of water from somewhere far above.
Kuro sat nearby, chair tilted back, a cigarette between his fingers though unlit. His black hair shimmered faintly under the blue light.
Across from him, Samuel stared blankly at his data pad, occasionally glancing toward Kaito's capsule as if haunted by his earlier mistake.
Sinon stood near the equipment table, cleaning her black suitcase with surgical precision.
A faint click each time she arranged something inside it.
Billish was gone — probably upstairs.
But Andreo and Michael lingered at the far end, checking thermal scanners and energy readings.
Everything was calm.
Almost too calm.
Inside the capsule, Kaito opened his eyes again.
He could feel something — faint vibrations above.
Like footsteps echoing through layers of earth and metal.
He focused, his senses sharpening.
> This presence... it's not theirs.
Someone else is coming.
A flicker of crimson light briefly danced across his pupils before fading.
He whispered softly to himself.
> "They're… close."
---
Kuro's POV
The air around him shifted suddenly.
He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.
> "Something's changed," he muttered.
Samuel looked up.
> "What do you mean?"
Kuro's gaze turned toward the ceiling.
The faint tremor of sound.
Footsteps. Voices.
And then… energy.
A pulse of faint life force, coming from above — sharp, determined, familiar.
He smirked faintly.
> "I feel something above the subway we're in."
The others glanced at him, puzzled.
Samuel frowned.
> "Above the subway? This place hasn't been used for years. What could possibly—"
Kuro stood up. His voice dropped, calm yet cold.
> "They're coming."
Samuel froze.
> "Who's coming?"
Kuro turned, his one visible eye glowing faintly under the pale blue lights.
> "The ones who shouldn't have."
He glanced at Andreo and Michael.
> "Prepare for combat. Protect the capsule at all costs."
Sinon looked up from her suitcase, closing it with a metallic snap.
> "You're expecting a fight?"
> "No," Kuro said, his tone almost amused.
"I'm expecting a rescue."
Samuel's eyes widened.
> "Wait, you mean—"
Kuro cut him off, his smirk widening.
> "Yes. Today, we'll meet the ones brave enough to challenge us."
He exhaled softly, leaning back slightly, almost relaxed.
> "And maybe… we'll see the real potential of that Eclipse boy."
The lab lights flickered.
A faint rumble echoed from somewhere above.
Sinon glanced up, tightening her gloves.
Andreo cocked his rifle. Michael adjusted the pressure valve on his exo-suit.
The air shifted again — colder, heavier, more electric.
Kuro placed a hand over the capsule, eyes glancing toward Kaito through the black glass.
> "Let's see how far your power can go… when the world comes knocking."
Inside, Kaito opened his eyes once more.
He could hear the vibrations now — faintly, distinctly — the sound of approaching footsteps.
Three of them.
He smiled slightly, the light from the crack reflecting across his face like the first dawn through darkness.
> Arthur, Alia... you really came.
The faint hum of his energy began to rise.
A soft, pulsing rhythm that resonated with the air itself.
The Eclipse was stirring again.