Carnile Province Headquarters – Central Hall
The central hall of Carnile Province was immense, its high ceilings disappearing into shadows above. A long
polished table stretched across the room, flanked by numerous officials whose faces reflected a mix of
anticipation and unease. At the head of the table, seated upon a chair carved from dark obsidian, sat the
ultimate head of the Carnile Province. Even in silence, his presence demanded obedience, his gaze alone
capable of freezing a person in place.
"As thought," the ultimate head's voice cut through the hall like a blade, calm but razor-sharp. "You never
failed in your task."
Citrel stood with the poise of a predator, her eyes cold and calculating. "It was very easy for me to enter the
Imperial Province," she said, her tone smooth, almost casual. "Their security is weak, and the location you
gave was accurate. For now, the Fusion Sphere rests in the Conducting Room."
A small, approving smile flickered across the ultimate head's face. "The Imperial Province… only a few months
more, and it will be mine. Citrel, you may leave."
Citrel inclined slightly and started toward the exit. The echo of her boots on the marble floor reverberated
through the hall. But before she could reach the doors, a man stepped out from the shadows.
"You went with two men and returned with only one," the man said, his voice heavy with suspicion. "Where's
the other one?"
Citrel's eyes met his, and a cruel, almost inhuman smile spread across her face. She did not answer. She simply
moved past him, exiting the hall with the quiet confidence of someone untouchable.
"No way… you again!" the man whispered under his breath, his disbelief morphing into terror.
At the edge of the hall, Davour—her surviving companion—watched her retreat. His body trembled, and a
cold sweat ran down his spine. Memories of the cave flooded his mind, vivid and unbearable.
Flashback – The Cave
The damp air smelled of earth and iron. Flickering torchlight danced across the walls, illuminating the Fusion
Sphere that pulsed with an ethereal glow. Citrel held it with reverence, her fingers tracing the surface as
though it were a living entity.
"Finally… the Fusion Sphere is ours," she whispered, triumph gleaming in her eyes.
Maviac, one of her team, stepped closer, eyes shining with greed. "Let me see it," he demanded, reaching for
the Sphere.
Citrel's gaze hardened, and her hand shot out with terrifying speed. "Do not touch it unless ordered by me.
Understood?"
"Who said it's yours? I helped search for it too!" Maviac snapped, stepping forward anyway.
In an instant, Citrel's power erupted. Water claws, sharp and lethal, slashed through the air. They tore into
Maviac's chest, ripping through bone and heart, the force driving him backward until his body collapsed
lifelessly against the cave wall.
"I said… do not touch it!" she hissed, her voice devoid of mercy.
Davour had stood frozen, watching the horror unfold. Fear had rooted him to the ground; Citrel was no
ordinary ally—she was something far more dangerous.
Present – Carnile Province Central Hall
The steward's face drained of color as he recalled the incident. Killed… her own teammate… No way… she's a
monster, he thought, his heart hammering.
Imperial Province – Takeshi's Cabin
Takeshi sat on the edge of his bed, the dim city lights spilling through the window. His comm device buzzed
violently, cutting through the quiet.
"Takeshi, there's an emergency," Fred's voice came through, urgent and clipped."What?!" Takeshi snapped, springing upright.
"Three men escaped from the Western Prison. HQ has ordered your assistance. You must intercept them
before they leave the territory. I'm tracking them from the air, so move fast!"
The line went dead. Takeshi ran a hand through his hair. "What a headache," he muttered, already striding
toward the door.
Moments later, footsteps echoed from the corridor. Alaric and Hector appeared, moving with a synchronized
urgency.
"Oh! You're here," Takeshi said, relief threading through his voice. "I was going to find you. Let's move."
"Where exactly?" Alaric asked, sensing the tension radiating off him.
"On your first task," Takeshi said, eyes narrowing with focus. The three shared a glance, an unspoken
understanding passing between them. This mission would test them, perhaps in ways they weren't ready for—
but there was no choice.
Outside, the city slept under a fragile layer of peace, oblivious to the danger closing in. Takeshi adjusted his
gloves, feeling the familiar surge of energy humming under his skin. He glanced at Alaric and Hector, their
faces set with determination.
"Time is not on their side," he said, and the trio launched into the night.
The night wind tore across their faces as they sprinted toward the Western sector. Fred's tracker glowed
faintly on Takeshi's device, pinpointing the escapees' erratic path. Every second counted. Failure was not an
option.
Takeshi's mind raced—angles, escape routes, contingencies. Citrel… I know you're behind this, he thought, the
memory of her cruelty sending a shiver down his spine. She was brilliant, ruthless, and utterly unpredictable.
They moved as one, shadows merging with the darkness, bodies flowing over rooftops and alleyways with
seamless precision. Ahead, a faint glimmer of movement caught Takeshi's sharp eye. He signaled subtly, and
Alaric and Hector slowed, blending into the environment.
The hunt had begun. No mistakes could be afforded. No mercy could be expected. Citrel's reach was long, and
the Fusion Sphere's power could tilt the scales at any moment. Takeshi tightened his grip, senses sharp, every
heartbeat synced with the coming confrontation.
The night was alive with tension, every shadow a potential threat, every sound a warning. The hunt had
begun—and Takeshi knew the coming hours would test everything he, Alaric, and Hector had ever learned.