⚔️ Chapter 4:
The alley was silent now, save for the drip of rainwater from fractured rooftops. Kairu's boots squelched on the slick cobblestones as he fled the scene, weaving between flickering streetlights and the shadowed façades of Velis Sol's lower district. The copper-eyed boy was gone from his mind, replaced by the uneasy certainty that something far greater than the alley awaited him — the unseen eyes that had followed him since childhood were closing in.
Above, the twin moons of Nirath glimmered faintly through the thick mist, casting a dim, otherworldly glow. The canals ran like veins of mercury, reflecting every faint pulse of the city's Etherlight, a latticework of power Kairu barely understood. He felt it in his bones — a resonance he could no longer ignore.
Then the air changed.
A subtle vibration hummed beneath the soles of his boots, growing steadily into a thrumming vibration that rattled windows and shivered through the walls. Kairu froze, heart hammering. From the fogged skyline, three shapes descended, silent and deliberate. They moved like shadows without weight, but the city bent around them — Etherlight reacting, bending as though obeying their presence.
The first to land was a woman. Tall, wrapped in a coat that shimmered with faint inscriptions of silver light, her face concealed beneath a hood. Her boots touched the ground with a soundless grace. Behind her, two others followed: a man whose gaze seemed to pierce through the fog, and a smaller figure that moved like liquid shadow, almost dissolving into the mist.
The collectors had come.
Kairu instinctively pressed his hands to the mark on his palm. It pulsed violently, sending a current of warmth up his arm. He knew enough: these were not ordinary humans. They were the watchers, the enforcers of the Yorimashi Academy — the ones who would extract a Cursed Sighted before they became a catastrophe.
"Ryoku Kairu," the woman spoke, her voice calm, melodic, but with an edge that cut through the thick air. "Step aside. You have been… observed."
Kairu backed up, pressing himself against a graffiti-stained wall. The mist swirled around the trio, casting their shadows across the cobblestones like serpents coiling. His chest ached, his mind racing — he could feel Raviel stirring, a whisper of a presence just beneath his skin, urging him forward.
"I… I didn't do anything!" he stammered.
The man with piercing eyes tilted his head. A faint shimmer traced along the seams of his coat — a weave of Ether threads, nearly invisible. "That alley… the manifestation. It was detected. You cannot remain here. Come willingly, and your… situation will be handled with minimal disruption."
Minimal disruption. The words chilled him. He knew what happened when people like him were caught. Families torn apart. Powers restrained. Sometimes… erased.
Raviel pulsed beneath his skin. Not yet. Not without a fight.
Before he could decide, the smallest of the trio moved — almost imperceptibly. A flicker, a flash of light along the misted street. Kairu felt the air compress, a pressure wrapping around his chest. The world slowed for an instant, the cobblestones seeming to stretch. The shadowed figure — the one that had almost dissolved into the fog — extended a hand. A line of silver light arced toward him.
Kairu reacted instinctively. Chains of Ether flared from his arms, wrapping around the nearest collector. The silver light struck against their barrier with a hiss, crackling like frozen fire. The collector didn't scream. She simply tilted her head, and the chains shattered against a shimmer of protective Ether, spraying sparks across the alley.
"Interesting," the woman said, stepping closer. Her hands glowed faintly, runes tracing along her gloves. "You have power beyond what we anticipated."
Kairu's breath came raggedly. The pulse in his palm burned hotter, almost unbearable. Every instinct screamed to flee, but the alley offered no escape. From above, the mist thickened, and the canals shimmered unnaturally, reflecting the twin moons as though amplifying their light.
"Raviel…" he whispered under his breath. The Tsukaima's voice curled inside his mind like silk and smoke. Focus. Listen. You are not alone.
The woman's gaze sharpened. "Do you refuse to come quietly?"
Kairu didn't answer. He had made his choice in the alley of the Crimson Incident. Whatever lay ahead, whatever these collectors wanted, he would not be taken like a lamb. Not while he still had a spark of control.
With a sudden motion, he flung his hands forward. The chains erupted in a silver blaze, twisting and whipping through the mist. The alley seemed to shudder as if the city itself recoiled from his defiance. Sparks lit the fog in ghostly patterns, reflecting off broken glass, puddles, and the rivulets of rainwater running down the walls.
The smallest collector dodged with fluid motion, vanishing into the mist. The man stepped forward, but Kairu was ready. His vision blurred, shadows shifting and elongating around him. The mark on his hand flared once more, drawing in the latent energy of the city, the street, the very mist around him.
A pulse of silver light shot from his palm, slamming against the lead collector. She stumbled, just slightly — enough to show him that his power, uncontrolled and raw, could push them back.
But before he could celebrate, the woman's voice cut through, calm and terrifying:
"You are already marked. There is no running from what you are, Ryoku Kairu. The Yorimashi will claim you — whether you fight… or not."
Kairu's eyes narrowed. Somewhere in the fog, the whisper of Raviel moved — a promise of both guidance and vengeance. He drew a ragged breath, hands trembling but ready. The first confrontation was over. The next would define the path he could take — one of obedience, or of power, blood, and the shadows that clung to his very soul.
Above, the twin moons of Nirath glowed with soft, sinister light, casting the city in muted silver. Somewhere beyond the mist, a new world waited. And Kairu had just stepped fully into it.