As Arin and the infiltrator stood amidst the ruins of the outside world, where there were no clear signs of civilization, the tension in the air grew thick. The place appeared completely abandoned, surrounded by trees and broken buildings, with a heavy silence that concealed a mysterious sense of danger. Yet, amidst this devastation, there were a few miserable faces, watching from a distance. These faces emerged between the rubble, as if fleeing from death or searching for remnants of hope in this forgotten place. They were mere fleeting shadows against the backdrop of tragedy, struggling to survive in a place that felt like nowhere, where the only sound was the sorrowful cries of the wind.
The infiltrator moved forward with steady steps towards Arin and said in a strange tone, laced with mockery and threat: "I didn't intend to fight you... but since I'm here, why not enjoy it a little?"
Arin showed no reaction except for a sudden move, like an arrow, and lunged at him with a direct kick aimed at his head. However, the infiltrator seemed to anticipate the attack and blocked the kick with his hand easily, as though it were nothing more than a passing breeze. Before Arin could land firmly, he received a violent blow to his chest, sending him crashing into the wall behind him with such force that it left a visible mark on the cracked stones.
Arin coughed violently, feeling the blood gathering in his mouth, but swallowed it, refusing to show weakness.
The infiltrator laughed sarcastically, then said with a smirk filled with contempt: "How can someone like you be this weak?"
Arin struggled to rise, a mocking, disdainful smile on his face, as though mocking his opponent's attempt to provoke him into anger. "Weak? At least I'm not a puppet with no will. Your strength means nothing if you're just a puppet."
The infiltrator's expression shifted slightly, as if he didn't like the response. Then, with astonishing speed, he launched a powerful punch that nearly shattered Arin's face, had it not been for Arin's quick dodge. But the infiltrator was faster than expected. He grabbed Arin by the neck and lifted him off the ground, squeezing tightly, choking him.
"A puppet? Maybe you're right, but what about you? Do you think you're free?... Look at yourself now... You don't even have the right to choose your own end," the infiltrator said coldly as Arin struggled with all his might to free himself.
The infiltrator drew a small dagger and decisively cut off Arin's right ear. He smiled wickedly as he looked at Arin's blood-covered face, then said mockingly: "What do you think? Isn't this fun?"
Arin looked at the infiltrator with a sarcastic smile, despite the intense pain. He said calmly: "Did you expect me to scream? Another disappointment."
The infiltrator dropped him to the ground, and Arin lay there, in pain but still determined not to show weakness.
Struggling, Arin slowly got up from the ground and started stepping back, one foot after the other.
"Is that all you've got?" the infiltrator taunted, "I thought you'd be more interesting."
The infiltrator approached him further, but before he could make his next move, a sharp voice broke the heavy silence from behind them: "Stop."
The infiltrator froze instantly, as though the voice carried an order that could not be disobeyed. Arin looked toward the source of the voice and saw a man standing in the shadows, his features unclear, but he exuded an overwhelming presence.
"Leave now," the man said in a calm but authoritative voice. "And take the young man lying on the ground with you."
The infiltrator glanced at Arin one last time, then smiled wickedly and said, "Lucky this time. But I look forward to our next encounter."
The infiltrator disappeared into the shadows, leaving Arin on the ground, gasping for air, covered in blood.
Arin lay on his back, staring at the sky for a moment before letting out a laugh that broke the surrounding silence, a laugh full of madness and mockery.
---
On the other side... The infiltrator moved lightly among the ruins, carefully carrying Kyle. He appeared to be a man in his mid-twenties, with messy brown hair that hung around his face. His sharp features reflected an evident sternness, and his dark eyes gleamed with intense focus. He wore a tight black jacket that suited his athletic build, giving him flexibility and ease of movement, making him appear as if he were part of the very shadows, moving effortlessly as if nothing hindered him.
He pulled out a small device from his pocket and pressed a button, revealing the face of his superior on the screen.
His superior spoke coldly: "Did you fail the mission?"
The infiltrator answered with a slight smile, masking his internal tension: "Yes, as expected, he discovered my infiltration."
The superior sighed, then ended the call without adding a word. The infiltrator stared at the empty screen for a moment, before whispering softly: "Arin... Our next meeting will be more exciting."
---
Arin struggled to rise from the ground, his body swaying with each step as if pain was seeping into every part of him, yet his eyes remained sharp, and his mind alert as always. The air around him was heavy, thick with the scent of decay and dust. The ruined buildings crowded the area, some of them twisted and deformed as if the world had forgotten their existence, much like this city had been forgotten. The miserable faces of the homeless slipped between the rubble, like ghosts trapped in a lost time.
Then Arin spoke to himself in a low voice, as if the words he uttered were a way to reset his balance amidst the chaos surrounding him: "Those old bastards... Their moves are always unpredictable. But no matter, they won't bring me down no matter how hard they try."
Without raising his voice, he said while looking behind him: "You there... come out."
A man stepped out from behind one of the buildings with quiet steps. He was tall, with a slender body wrapped in a long black coat that seemed to swallow the light around him. His face was covered with long gray hair, scattered messily as though it were part of this devastated world. His eyes gleamed with a strange sharpness, as if they pierced through the darkness itself. His skin was pale, and his tilted smile gave him a blend of mystery and threat. He held a short metal staff in his right hand, but it didn't look like an ordinary weapon. His steps were not heavy but silent, making him seem like he didn't belong in this place, like a ghost or a moving shadow.
He spoke in a low voice, controlling his tone: "I didn't expect you to discover me so quickly."
Arin, who had been in an attacking position, took a slight step back, but his eyes remained fixed on the man, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. Suddenly, he relaxed his defense just a little—not out of weakness, but out of caution, feeling a strange sense surrounding him. His hands were held firmly at his sides, as though waiting for any movement from his opponent.
The man, in a calm tone with an air of mystery, said: "I've been watching you, Arin, since the beginning of the fight... or rather, since you fled the capital."
Arin slightly raised his head, his eyes filled with suspicion and doubt as he focused on the man, trying to read his expression, which revealed nothing: "How did I not notice you?"
The man smiled faintly, his eyes moving across Arin's face, then answered, raising an eyebrow slightly:"Some things are not seen unless you want them to be seen."
Arin felt an uncomfortable sensation creeping inside him, but he kept his calm, his mouth set in cautious lines, his pulse quickening slightly. He said, breathing heavily: "So... what do you want?"
The man approached with slow, deliberate steps, as if every step sent an echo through the dead space around them, his movements trailing a deep sound that seemed to surround everything. His eyes never left Arin, and Arin could feel that every move he made was under the man's watchful gaze. The man spoke, his voice full of challenge, as if every word carried meanings that were difficult to understand: "I am someone who offers you a chance... or perhaps a choice."
Before Arin could respond, the man suddenly turned, as if leaving behind a maze of questions, then spoke in a softer tone, but heavier in meaning: "Your true power lies in understanding your desires."
The man moved away with quiet steps, each movement swallowing the earth beneath him, leaving Arin lost in his thoughts, trying to understand the meaning of his words, which slipped into his mind like foggy threads, impossible to grasp.