The melody was a tranquilizer to the soul.
It was as if time itself had stopped just to listen to the symphony.
The sky shimmered in light as the notes danced through the air, and even the birds circled gracefully, moving in harmony with the tune. Amid the rubbles of destruction, the melody brought serenity — a counterpoint to chaos.
There, among the ruins, sat the Minister of Symphony — a beautiful girl with blue hair, her flute resting lightly in her hands.
"So it was you who defeated the Deity of Vanity?" she said softly, her voice sharp beneath its gentleness. "How absurd."
Lowering her flute, she glanced up at the boy standing before her .
"So, who are you?"the boy captivated by the sight spoke.
"You don't know?" she replied with a faint grin. "You should really ask about things."
"Not that I care," he muttered, "But your performance was... Wonderful."
"Hmph." A small smirk tugged at her lips. "I'm Ciara, by the way — the third member of your squad."
---
Rewinding to when the Deity of Vanity first invaded the Black Halo Agency, chaos reigned.
In a nearby district laid to waste by the terrorist group, a lone boy stood amidst the devastation, gazing quietly at the burning horizon.
"For this to happen... it means the foretold event has begun," he murmured.
Voices whispered in the wind — cries from the dead.
[Please, I beg you... help me...]
[Yes... help us...]
Hundreds of lost souls surrounded him, translucent forms of anguish and regret. Some wept for what they had lost, others burned with hatred toward the living.
"Hm?" he tilted his head slightly as five figures emerged from the smoke.
"How's some punk still alive after that?" one man sneered, an evil grin splitting his face.
"Maybe he just got lucky," said a woman in a white gown, drawing a strange book and beginning to write in it.
"I don't like this," muttered another. "He looks... wrong. We should tread carefully."
"Bro, you're always so cautious," said a hooded man with a laugh. "He's just a kid. What's he gonna do?"
A massive man with scars folded his hands in mock prayer. "A bunch of adults ganging up on a child... May the Lord forgive us all, for He is merciful indeed."
And then the whispers of the dead rose — a single, united thought echoing through the boy's mind:
[Destroy them... burn them... make them taste death... vengeance upon them...]
"Kay," said the boy.
The ground split open. The entire district fell into an abyss.
"Oh my,he survived again?" the woman appeared surprised
"Tch," clicking his the boy spoke"That woman's abilities are dangerous — I'll take her out first."
The well built man teleported behind the boy and slammed a blow powerful enough to crush stone — but the boy remained standing.
"I'm sorry, lost souls," he said quietly. "Lend me your strength, and I promise... I'll send you to the Celestial Realm."
A scythe of light formed in his hands.
"Guess you were right," the scarred man said grimly. "He's tough."
The scythe glowed silver as the boy — Karain — charged forward.
The scarred man and the hooded one moved to intercept.
"Think we'll let you touch the madame? Keep dreaming!"
A punch was thrown. Karain tossed his scythe upward, seized the attacker's arm, and countered with a strike. Both he and the man staggered — both had felt the same pain.
"Ha! All your attacks reflect back at you," the scarred man smirked, coughing blood.
Karain's gaze darkened. "Am I supposed to be afraid?"
"Wha—ugh!" The man was pummeled by an unseen barrage — punches raining like judgment.
"Grim Reaper's Repercussion."
Karain's voice echoed with finality.
"It drains your soul and life force... and those reflected attacks? I've redirected them to the souls you slaughtered. I'll win this either way."
His scythe sliced cleanly. The man's body fell lifeless.
Now four remained.
The woman in white tried to retreat, scribbling furiously in her book, but her aura faltered. The hooded man raised his hand — and the world exploded.
The explosions were endless, rolling through every corner of the district. Amid the chaos, the large man bent space itself, appearing behind Karain to strike.
Space twisted. Reality folded.
But both attackers suddenly became lifeless.
Karain exhaled. "Physical attacks? On a soul user? How naïve."
He turned his gaze to the woman.
"Well... the guy with the hood's got some brains. But she's the real problem."
The woman's eyes glowed as she spun, exclaiming in ecstasy, "Ah, what joy! To be sculpted is to be created! Blessed I am to wield this grace!"
The sky dimmed.
A divine light surged — vast, consuming, inescapable.
Karain knew if it touched him, he'd vanish.
Then, a calm voice cut through the radiance.
"You're Karain, right? The son of the Crystal Ninja."
The light dissolved in an instant — touched and erased by a single hand.
It was Jaze.
Before anyone could blink, the woman and the hooded man were unconscious on the ground.
"Take them to the Agency," Jaze said. "They'll be interrogated. I have business elsewhere."
"O-okay…" Karain murmured, stunned.
Five terrorists — defeated. Two captured.
The district finally fell silent.