Aine Crimson woke up without opening her eyes.
Habit.
Breathing steady. Heart rate calm. Muscles relaxed but primed. The faint hum of the city outside filtered through reinforced glass, distant and irrelevant. For exactly half a second, her mind ran a status check, location secure, no foreign presence, no hostile signals.
Then—
Ding!
The sound rang softly inside her consciousness, clean and unmistakable.
Daily Sign-In successful.
Day 1 recorded.
Aine's eyes opened.
The ceiling of her private penthouse suite came into focus, black glass, subtle lighting, nothing reflective enough to give away her position. She lay still for another moment, absorbing the sensation.
"…Automatic," she murmured.
"Of course it is," Sera replied, voice warm with smug satisfaction.
"Waking up is the only habit I can reliably count on you having, Host."
Aine snorted quietly.
She sat up, long legs swinging off the bed in a smooth, unhurried motion. Black silk sheets slid down pale skin, the fabric whispering against muscle conditioned through years of brutal training.
"Report."
"Straight to business. How very you," Sera said.
"Processing your first daily reward now."
A translucent panel unfolded in the air above Aine's left hand, silver lines forming a clean, elegant interface. No lag. No distortion. It felt less like something projected and more like something that had always belonged there.
—
[Daily Sign-In Reward]
Reward Type: Talent Scroll
Rarity: Uncommon (Green)
Aine's gaze sharpened.
A scroll materialized from nothing, hovering inches above her palm. It wasn't paper, it was light folded into form, symbols shifting across its surface like a living language.
"Uncommon," Aine said. Neutral. Evaluating.
"Hey, it's your first day," Sera protested lightly.
"Statistically speaking, this is a perfectly respectable outcome. Try not to look so disappointed."
"I'm not disappointed," Aine replied. "I'm calibrating expectations."
The scroll unfurled on its own.
[Talent Scroll — Enhanced Perception]
Rarity: Uncommon
Effect: Slightly increases sensory awareness, reaction speed, and threat detection.
Aine tilted her head.
"…Useful."
The scroll dissolved into particles of green light that flowed toward her eyes, ears, and skin. The sensation was subtle—but unmistakable.
The hum of distant traffic sharpened. The vibration of the building's power grid resolved into individual rhythms. Even the air against her skin carried new information.
Aine exhaled slowly.
"Integration speed?"
"Instant," Sera replied.
"No cooldown. No side effects. Congratulations, Host, you now notice things slightly before they happen."
Aine smiled faintly.
"Good."
Another panel slid into place.
[Bonus Gift Bag Acquired]
Her smile widened by a fraction.
—
"Open it."
"So eager," Sera teased.
"Very well—don't blink."
The gift bag shimmered into existence, then burst open in a cascade of light.
[Talent Scroll Acquired]
Rarity: Rare (Blue)
Aine's eyebrows lifted.
"Oh?"
"Oh?" Sera echoed smugly.
"See? First impressions matter."
The blue scroll unfurled.
[Talent Scroll — Weapon Intuition]
Rarity: Rare
Effect: Accelerates mastery, compatibility, and adaptability with all weapons.
Additional Effect: Reduces learning time for unfamiliar weapons.
Silence stretched for a heartbeat.
Then Aine laughed.
It was quiet. Low. Dangerous.
"…That's almost insulting," she said.
"Insulting?"
"I already do this," Aine replied calmly. "You're telling me the system is going to make it faster."
"Correction," Sera said sweetly.
"I'm telling you that you'll never plateau."
The scroll dissolved.
This time, the sensation was deeper, muscle memory tightening, neural pathways aligning, years of training reorganized into something cleaner. Sharper. More efficient.
Aine stood.
She crossed the room barefoot, movements fluid, stopping before the weapons wall hidden behind a false panel. With a flick of her wrist, the panel slid open, revealing blades, firearms, and experimental prototypes arranged with surgical precision.
She reached out at random and took a compact knife.
The moment it touched her palm—
Click.
Everything aligned.
Grip. Balance. Weight. Optimal angles of entry. Exit trajectories. Time-to-kill calculations layered themselves instantly over instinct.
Aine's eyes gleamed.
"…Acceptable," she concluded.
"High praise," Sera said dryly.
"I'll treasure it forever."
Another notification chimed.
—
[Weekly Quest Active]
Objective: Save your twin sister's life
Location: China, City A
Time Remaining: 6 Days, 18 Hours
Aine's expression cooled.
The room seemed to dim around her, not because the lights changed, but because her attention narrowed to a single point.
China.
City A.
Her sister.
"What do we know?" she asked.
"Officially?" Sera replied.
"Nothing public. Privately?"
New data scrolled past.
Medical facilities. Corporate sovereignty zones. Viremont pharmaceutical subsidiaries. Restricted research permits. Sealed patient records.
Aine's jaw tightened.
"Viremont."
"Bingo," Sera said, tone sharpening.
"They don't know you exist. Yet. But they're directly tied to your sister's condition."
Aine turned back toward the bed and reached for her phone. The SIS app icon pulsed faintly before vanishing as she accessed the system directly through her mind.
She sent one message.
To: Marcus Vale
Content: Prepare transport. China. Immediate.
Another followed.
To: Nyx
Content: Full data sweep on City A. No flags.
She didn't explain. She didn't need to.
Aine slipped into black clothing with practiced ease—leather, silk, reinforced fabric. She fastened her necklace beneath the collar, the crescent moon cool against her skin.
Six days.
That was generous.
She paused at the window, looking down at the city she ruled from the shadows. Somewhere beyond the horizon, a life bound to hers was fading.
Aine's reflection stared back at her, calm, composed, lethal.
"Looks like my mornings just got interesting," she said.
"Host," Sera replied softly, excitement humming beneath her words,
"welcome to your first countdown."
Aine smiled.
"Anyone in my way," she said, voice flat as a blade,
"is already dead."
Outside, the sun rose.
And halfway across the world, fate began to panic.
—
The private hangar beneath the city came alive the moment Aine stepped inside.
Lights flared on in silent sequence, illuminating matte-black aircraft lined up like resting predators. The air smelled faintly of fuel, ozone, and cold metal—familiar, comforting. Crimson personnel moved with quiet efficiency, no wasted motion, no unnecessary words.
No one asked questions.
They never did.
Marcus Vale stood near the command console, tall and broad, his expression as controlled as ever. His sharp eyes flicked to Aine the moment she entered, noting the change—not in her appearance, but in the pressure she carried with her.
"Jet is prepped," he said. "Fastest route puts you in City A in under fifteen hours. Clean documents, rotating identities."
"Good," Aine replied. She didn't slow her stride. "I'll travel alone."
Marcus didn't argue. He never did when her tone was like this.
"The others?" he asked instead.
"Standby," Aine said. "If I call, I want response time measured in minutes, not hours."
Marcus inclined his head. "Understood."
As he turned away to relay orders, Sera's voice slipped back into Aine's mind, quieter now, focused.
"Host, I'm detecting elevated probability clusters around City A."
"Define elevated."
"Martial factions. Corporate black sites. Non-standard security forces."
A brief pause.
"And something else."
Aine boarded the jet, settling into the seat without ceremony. The cabin sealed, engines beginning their low, powerful hum.
"Something else usually means trouble," Aine said.
"Oh, definitely," Sera replied lightly.
"There's an anomaly in the local data stream. It doesn't belong to any known faction. Feels… unfinished."
Aine's fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"Keep tracking it."
"Already am."
Then, with a hint of amusement:
"You're unusually calm for someone who just discovered she has a dying twin sister."
Aine stared forward as the jet began to move.
"I don't panic," she said. "I plan."
The engines roared, the aircraft accelerating down the runway before lifting smoothly into the sky. The city fell away beneath them, lights shrinking into constellations of gold.
Aine closed her eyes.
For a moment, just one… images flickered behind her lids. A white room she had never seen. A presence she had never known. A sense of missing that finally had a shape.
Her hand tightened unconsciously around the chain beneath her clothes.
"Six days," she murmured.
"Technically," Sera corrected gently,
"six days, seventeen hours, and forty-two minutes."
Aine's lips curved faintly.
"Plenty of time."
The jet pierced the clouds, vanishing into the dark.
And far across the ocean, inside a pristine medical facility bathed in artificial light, Fay Brightwood's vitals dipped for the first time that day—alarms flickering briefly before stabilizing.
Unseen by all, a thin silver glyph pulsed once in the air above her bed.