The high-speed train to Regalia sliced through the twilight like a silver arrow, its sleek form reflecting the fading hues of the horizon. Inside, the rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the carriages created an air of deceptive calm. Beyond the windows, the kingdom's vast landscapes blurred into an impressionistic tapestry of forests, hills, and distant city lights.
In one of the rear compartments, thirty-one figures occupied the space, their presence as suffocating as the storm brewing outside. They were the Hunters, a clandestine group operating in the shadows, thriving on fear and chaos. Their attire was functional, with reinforced seams, hidden weaponry, and subtle armor plates that hinted at their readiness for violence. Their expressions varied—some bore the hardened gaze of seasoned killers, while others, newer recruits, betrayed a mix of nervous energy and bloodlust.
At the center of it all was Slade, the Master-level Ascender who led this band of predators. His presence was commanding, his aura a faint, shimmering haze that marked him as one who had long since mastered his power. He stood with an ease that belied the lethal energy coiled within him, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
"Remember the plan," Slade said, his voice carrying over the low murmur of the train. He surveyed the room with eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light. "We hit Regalia hard and fast. Start with the outer districts—merchants, minor nobles, anyone who can scream loud enough to make the big shots pay attention. And if we happen to grab a few Ascender brats from those fancy families," he added with a cruel grin, "all the better. This isn't just about money. It's about making them afraid of us. Fear is power, and tonight, we claim it."
Murmurs of approval rippled through the group. Even the newer recruits, nervous as they were, found themselves nodding along, swept up in the promise of glory and riches.
"But what about the Police and Ascender Academy roaming students?" a young Hunter ventured hesitantly. "The new Vice Principal—people say she's dangerous."
Slade waved the question away, his disdain evident. "The Lightning Empress? A convenient legend for the masses. She showed up in Kythera, sure, but that was a one-off. A fluke. Besides, we're not hitting the academy. Our targets are softer, easier. We'll be in and out before anyone can muster a defense."
His dismissal seemed to ease the group's collective tension, and a few of the older Hunters chuckled. Slade's confidence was infectious, a trait that had served him well over the years.
But his attention drifted toward the far end of the compartment.
There, seated alone by the window, was a young woman who seemed completely detached from the atmosphere around her. Her silver hair shimmered in the dim light, framing a face of striking beauty, and her green eyes, vivid and unnatural, reflected the fading sunset like gemstones. She appeared lost in thought, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the frosted glass.
"And who knows," Slade mused aloud, his voice taking on a darker edge. "We might get a little bonus tonight." He nodded toward her. "She'd fetch a fortune on the market. Or maybe…" His grin widened, cruel and suggestive. "We keep her for ourselves."
Several of the Hunters turned to look, their gazes varying from curious to predatory. While the younger recruits hesitated, clearly uneasy, the more experienced members smirked, eager to prove their worth.
The young woman, however, remained still. Her eyes never wavered from the landscape beyond the window, her expression serene, almost otherworldly.
But appearances, as they often were... very deceiving.
Two Seekers, emboldened by Slade's words, rose from their seats and sauntered toward her. They carried themselves with the confidence of predators accustomed to easy victories.
The scarred one leaned in first, his voice a low growl. "Well, well. All alone, are we?"
The young woman turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with her own. Her green eyes shimmered with an intensity that made his smirk falter.
"If you're smart," she said softly, her voice calm yet resonant, "you'll walk away."
The second Seeker laughed, a harsh sound that grated against the tension in the room. "Feisty, huh? Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you."
Her gaze flicked to him, unblinking. "I'm sure you will."
The scarred Seeker reached out, his fingers brushing her sleeve.
The air around them seemed to shift, an almost imperceptible change that set the hairs on the back of their necks on edge.
Then, the train plunged into a tunnel.
Darkness swallowed the compartment, the lights flickering once, twice, before failing completely.
Chaos erupted.
Shouts and curses filled the air as the Hunters scrambled in the blackness. The sound of bodies colliding with seats and walls echoed through the space. Then came the thuds—solid, brutal impacts that silenced voices one by one.
Slade, his instincts honed by years of combat, felt the air grow heavier, oppressive. He reached for his power, trying to summon flames to light his way, but the energy slipped from his grasp as though it were being actively suppressed.
"What's going on?" he roared, his voice cutting through the din. "Report!"
No answer came. Only the sounds of struggle and muffled cries.
When the train emerged from the tunnel, emergency lights flickered to life, casting a dim red glow over the scene.
Slade froze.
The Hunters were sprawled across the compartment, broken and battered. Frost coated some of them, their limbs twisted in unnatural angles. Others bore burns, their clothes smoldering as they writhed in pain. None were dead, but all were incapacitated, their moans filling the silence.
And at the far end of the compartment, she still sat.
Her green eyes glowed faintly, their light casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air around her shimmered with latent energy, crackling faintly in the oppressive silence.
Slade tried to move, but an invisible force pressed him down, pinning him to his knees. He strained against it, his muscles trembling, but the pressure was immovable, unyielding.
His mind raced, every instinct screaming at him to flee, but his body refused to obey. He could only stare as she finally stood, her movements deliberate and graceful.
She approached him, her boots clicking softly against the floor. When she stopped just before him, she tilted her head, studying him with a calm that was far more terrifying than anger.
"Who…" he rasped, his voice barely audible. "What are you?"
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
"The storm you never saw coming," she replied.
With a flick of her wrist, the force holding him down intensified. Slade's vision blurred, the world spinning around him as consciousness slipped away.
The last thing he saw was her glowing eyes, cold and unrelenting, as darkness claimed him.