Within the quiet confines of his office, Seiya's father, Mr. Sanio, stood organizing a small bookshelf. Three more years had come by, totaling five years since he brought his son to this facility—five relentless years of 'forging' Seiya into a weapon.
As Mr. Sanio meticulously sorted the books, a shadow loomed behind him, freezing him in place. His body stiffened, the hair on his neck rising sharply as a suffocating aura enveloped the room. It was as though an invisible hand gripped his throat, choking him with an oppressive and mind-numbing presence. Cold sweat trickled down his back as he struggled to turn around, moving as if his joints had rusted.
When he finally faced the source of his dread, his wide eyes met not a monster but the blank, emotionless gaze of his thirteen-year-old son, Seiya.
Relief washed over Mr. Sanio, though shame quickly followed. How pathetic it was to feel terror before his own child. "Since when do you enter my office without knocking?" he barked, his tone sharp to mask his unease.
"I apologize," Seiya replied evenly, his words devoid of warmth.
Seiya had learned to speak over the years, though conversation barely interested him. He used words as tools, nothing more.
With a weary sigh, Mr. Sanio sank into his chair, attempting to shake off the fear that still clung to him. His eyes narrowed as he studied Seiya. Gone was the suffocating aura from moments before, leaving him uncertain whether it had been a figment of his imagination or a fleeting flash of killing intent from his own son.
"Listen carefully," Mr. Sanio began. "At night, you'll embark on a mission. This time, you'll be going alone."
Seiya's missions had always included escorts—elites who followed to ensure his success. But those days were over. His father deemed him strong enough now to manage on his own.
"Your assistant will provide the details. That's all. You may leave."
With a small bow, Seiya turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.
Three more years had passed, and he was now thirteen. During this time, the training and torment had only intensified under the guise of strengthening him.
As Seiya walked down the hallway, his dull, expressionless eyes stared straight ahead. His hair, once vibrant and full, had thinned over the years, strands falling out at the slightest touch. Yet, he hardly cared. Years of torment had dulled his perceptions of most things.
As he headed toward his training ground, a figure suddenly jumped in front of him, attempting to startle him.
"Boo!" Hayne exclaimed, trying to startle him.
Seiya only stared back, unblinking.
"Ugh, you're no fun," Hayne pouted, tapping a finger to Seiya's forehead. "I know you're trying to skip lunch again. Let's go eat together!"
Circling Seiya like an overexcited puppy, Hayne grinned mischievously.
Seiya's brow twitched in irritation. Pest number one, he thought, eliciting a faint chuckle from Ibyu, his heart.
Before he could respond, another figure approached from the other end of the hall, waving energetically.
"Hey, Seiya!" Suhei called out.
And here comes pest number two, Seiya muttered internally, earning another laugh from Ibyu.
Over the years, Suhei and Hayne had persisted in their attempts to befriend him, their relentless energy a sharp contrast to Seiya's detached demeanor. Despite their pestering, Seiya had begrudgingly grown used to their presence.
Suhei clapped a hand on Seiya's shoulder, steering him toward the dining hall. "Come on, let's eat together!"
Reluctantly, Seiya gave in, knowing resistance was futile. They joined a table where the older ones sat, including Eiro, who sighed dramatically as he picked at his food.
"I wonder if there's even life outside these walls," Eiro mused, slouching in his seat.
"Probably not. I've started to believe the outside world was just a dream, and this is the only reality," another boy chimed in.
Eiro sighed again. "Let's face it—this is where we'll grow old and die."
Hayne frowned. "At least we're still alive."
The conversation grew somber, memories of the many children who had perished over the years casting a shadow over the table. Seiya remained silent, mechanically eating his meal while Suhei occasionally slid extra food onto his plate.
"What's there to be sad about?" Suhei suddenly said, draping an arm over Seiya's shoulders. "As long as we're alive, there's hope. We'll escape this hellhole one day and see the light."
No one responded, their silence hinting at how often they'd heard Suhei's cheerful mantra.
When the meal ended, Seiya stood to leave, but Suhei grabbed his hand. "Seiya, don't let this place crush you. I know it's hardest for you, but as long as you're breathing, anything's possible. We'll make it out together, okay?"
Caught off guard, Seiya hesitated before giving his usual response. "Mn."
Satisfied, Suhei let him go.
Seiya trained till night approached. He met with Miss Onoya, who outlined his mission: He was to steal an artifact, though its purpose remained undisclosed to him. The artifact was set to be auctioned, but according to the intelligence he received, a rogue group known as Beau Soleil was certain to intercept and successfully steal it first.
Seiya's task was to retrieve the artifact from Beau Soleil and return with it safely. The location of their operation had been provided, along with the driver who would take him there.
As Seiya sat quietly on the bus en route to his mission, his gaze remained fixed on the floor. His father's parting words echoed in his mind: "You'll meet someone important to you during this mission. Tread carefully and make the right decision—otherwise… you know the consequences."
A faint sigh escaped his lips as he reflected on those words, his thoughts consumed by the question of who he might encounter.
After some time, the bus came to a halt, and Seiya was instructed to proceed with his mission.
He stepped off the bus, pulling a black cap low over his face as he trudged down the deserted street. Dressed entirely in black—a sweatshirt and matching pants—his figure exuded an air of quiet mystery.
The empty road eventually led him to a bustling street illuminated by vibrant lights. The scene was chaotic despite the late hour: vagabonds loitered, drunkards swayed, and a mix of other figures filled the lively thoroughfare, making it feel as though night had no claim there.
Seiya adjusted his cap further down, shadowing his face as he weaved carefully through the crowd. Amidst the throng of people, a small group stood out—distinct in both their presence and demeanor, exuding an aura that set them apart.
He pressed on, focused on his task, until a voice suddenly called out a name that struck him like a jolt.
"You're here, Hye Rin."
Seiya froze in his tracks, the cold night air brushing against his exposed hair beneath the cap.
"…Nee-san?" he murmured, his voice barely audible.