The bandits sat together in a dimly lit room, their expressions heavy with sorrow. The air was thick with the weight of their recent loss. Mousa leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his face hard and unreadable. The usually lively, confident leader was still simmering in silence, his anger barely contained. He hadn't spoken much since they arrived at the safe house, but the tension radiating from him was palpable.
Jun sat next to Shota, her arms resting on her knees, staring blankly at the floor. Kazuya was fidgeting, occasionally glancing at Mousa, nervous but unsure of what to say. Toma sat a little further away, his eyes red from crying earlier, but now his face was drained, as if he couldn't even muster the energy to feel anything. They had all lost their people—friends, they'd sworn to protect. The destruction of the shelter weighed heavily on them all.
Fortunately, there were few survivors. Miss Akane, her daughter, and a young man named Roku. They were trembling from the horrific memories. Miss Akane had tear tracks on her face, clutching her daughter close. She still seemed in shock, her hands shaking as she tried to keep herself together while explaining to the bandits about what happened.
Miss Akane whispered, her voice breaking. "He—he was in a black hoodie, standing there like a shadow. And then... out of nowhere... thousands of golden spears... They came from thin air and..." She choked on her words, glancing at her daughter, who was gripping her tightly.
Roku, the other survivor, clenched his fists, his voice shaking as he spoke. "They were like arrows of light. He sent them all at once. They were so fast—faster than anything I've ever seen. We couldn't stop it and everything just exploded...."
Mousa's jaw tightened, his fists balling up. His voice was low, but it vibrated with barely restrained fury. "Did you see his face?"
Roku shook his head immediately, glancing at Miss Akane. "No... we didn't. He kept the hood low. We only saw the spears.
Mousa slammed his fist into the wall, the sound reverberating through the room. Everyone flinched at the sudden explosion of anger.
Jun glanced over at Mousa but said nothing. She understood his rage, but in this moment, words would do nothing to soothe the fire inside him.
She knew it wasn't just grief—Mousa was blaming himself for not being there, for not protecting the people they had sworn to defend.
"We need to find him," Roku said, his voice shaky but determined. "We need to figure out who he is before he strikes again. But how are we supposed to fight someone who can do that?"
Toma, still sitting in his own daze, finally spoke. "What if... he's already watching us? What if this is just the start?"
His words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, deepening the silence that followed. They all knew the truth: they were vulnerable, and their enemy, whoever he was, had already taken so much from them.
Mousa finally exhaled, a slow, tense breath that seemed to drain some of the anger from his rigid posture. He looked at each of them, his eyes a little softer now, yet still dark and brooding.
"This isn't over," he said, his voice steadier, though still laced with anger. "We're going to find out who did this, and when we do..."
Roku spoke up next, his voice still unsteady but resolute. "I'll help you guys in any way I can. He destroyed our home—our lives. I can't just sit back while he walks free."
Mousa looked at Roku, a hint of respect in his gaze, though it was buried beneath layers of grief and rage. "Don't worry, we'll handle this"
Toma, who'd been uncharacteristically silent, finally broke his silence. "But how do we even start? We don't know anything about him other than... golden spears and a black hoodie. That's not exactly a lot to go on."
Jun glanced over at him. "It could be an Outcast from the Chrono Reapers or a Temporal Order Agent."
Mousa stood up. "Enough of that…" he murmured, his voice steady yet filled with pain. His face hardened as he fought to contain the grief within him. "…We honor the ones we've lost."
The group was silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, standing in solidarity with one another but feeling the ache of the broken family they'd left behind.
After a few seconds, Jun stepped forward and looked at everyone. "We're not alone," she said firmly, her voice breaking through the tension. "We have each other. And we're going to get through this. Together."
Toma looked at her, his expression softening just a bit. "Yeah… together."
It wasn't a complete answer. It didn't heal their wounds or bring back what they'd lost. But it was something—just enough to cling to.
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Agent Satoshi stood alone in a dim, abandoned warehouse, surrounded by the eerie hum of flickering lights and the cold scent of metal and dust. He wore his usual black hoodie, hood up, his face half-cast in shadow. Only his sharp, focused eyes caught the light as they scanned a hand-drawn map spread across the table. Every inch of the paper was marked with notes and symbols—a master plan in the making, each detail revealing a calculated, merciless mind.
The silence was broken by soft footsteps as Aiko entered, her expression tense and impatient. Her movements were brisk, her eyes narrowed as she stepped closer. "What's the plan, Satoshi?" she demanded, crossing her arms as she watched him.
He didn't bother looking up, the corners of his mouth turning in a faint, mocking smirk. "Patience," he said flatly, his tone a chilling calm. "Just wait."
Aiko's frustration boiled over. "You can't just keep me in the dark! I'm tired of this bullshit!!!What's the—"
Before she could finish, Satoshi's hand shot out in a blur, striking her across the face with a force that sent her reeling back. The smack reverberated through the empty space, and she staggered, catching herself, her cheek stinging from the impact. Satoshi's eyes locked onto hers with a sinister intensity, his tone colder than steel.
"Discipline, Aiko," he hissed, a cruel edge in his voice. "You're nothing more than a tool—a pet. Know your place!." He stared her down, daring her to test him.
Aiko swallowed hard, her defiance faltering under his gaze. She forced herself to stay quiet, straightening her posture and forcing herself to look unfazed.
Satisfied, Satoshi's attention drifted back to the map on the table. He reached out, casually tracing a line with his finger from a crudely drawn symbol of the shelter to a marked spot nearby.
"But don't worry." He let his finger rest on the spot, almost as if savoring the thought. "Killing them outright would be far too easy. They need to suffer, to feel despair. I'll finish them, yes. But I'd rather play with them first. Let them think they can survive, even win." He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with a predatory excitement. "A hunt is far more satisfying when the prey believes it has a chance.
Aiko stood in silence, a storm of emotions hidden behind her composed expression. Satoshi's chilling words sank in, and the twisted amusement in his tone reminded her of the ruthless cruelty he wielded like a second nature.