"Mrs... Mrs... Mar... tha...?"
Arisu's voice trembled as he stepped into the dimly lit house. His entire body froze. There she was—lifeless on the wooden floor, blood pooling beneath her. The warmth that once filled their home had been replaced with an unbearable chill.
His breath hitched as his gaze shifted. A strangled gurgle. His eyes widened in horror.
Faru—struggling, gasping for air. A man loomed over him, fingers wrapped tightly around his throat. The figure was monstrous. He had wild purple hair, a white skull mask adorned with a bold '1' on its forehead, and a muscular frame covered in glowing tattoos. He wore only red pants, exuding an aura of merciless confidence.
"R...r..un, A...ri...su..." Faru choked out, his voice barely audible.
Arisu's fists clenched. His whole body trembled, but he forced himself forward. He had to act.
"Hey! Let him go!" Arisu shouted, summoning every ounce of courage he had left. But before he could take another step.
SPLAT.
The sound was sickening.
The masked man n crushed Faru's head in an instant.
Blood splattered across the walls. Arisu couldn't even scream. His mind blanked. Before he could react, the masked man ripped out Faru's spine with one brutal motion and, without hesitation, swung it like a whip.
CRACK.
The force sent Arisu crashing into the wall, the impact nearly knocking him unconscious.
At that moment, Shinjo stepped in. "Hey, I just put out the flames—" His voice caught in his throat as his eyes landed on the massacre before him.
The masked man turned to face him, and for the first time, Shinjo felt pure, unfiltered terror.
A single motion.
The masked man raised his index finger. A swirling golden light gathered at its tip, forming into a sphere of condensed energy. It fired.
Shinjo barely dodged in time, the attack grazing his shoulder, sending searing pain through his body.
He rushed to Arisu, whose body was still limp. His eyes were blank. He looked dead inside.
"Hey, Risu!" Shinjo shook him, his own hands trembling. "Get your mind back! If we don't act, we're going to die. We have a promise to keep, remember?"
Silence.
Then, finally—
Arisu blinked. His fingers twitched. He clenched his fists and slowly pushed himself up.
"You're right…" He exhaled sharply, his voice steadier. "We can't let our dreams be cut short. We have to find a way to escape."
The assassin merely tilted his head. He didn't chase. Instead, he watched. A low chuckle rumbled from beneath his mask.
Watching them struggle was more satisfying.
Arisu and Shinjo ran. But the deeper they went, the worse it got.
A dead end.
Hundreds of golden spiders crawled over each other, their glistening bodies filling the alleyway.
Footsteps echoed behind them. The masked assassin emerged from the shadows, unfazed, amused.
"You…" His voice was casual, almost playful. "You can't be part of The Class, can you? It makes no sense why HE would want you."
The moment he said it, an unbearable weight crushed down on them.
Arisu and Shinjo dropped to their knees. Their chests tightened. Breathing became impossible. It was as if their very souls were being crushed by his presence.They couldn't move,they couldn't fight.
The masked man lifted his finger again, golden light swirling ominously.
"Is this how we die?" Shinjo thought.
Just as the blast fired—
BOOM.
A massive explosion erupted. Golden spiders disintegrated. The shockwave sent dust and debris flying, clouding the alley in thick smoke.
The masked man clicked his tongue. Annoyance. He turned away, ready to leave.
But then—
A voice cut through the smoke. Calm and gentle, deep and soothing.
"Huh. What do we have here?"
A silhouette stepped forward. A man.
"On my way back from the pub, and I stumble upon a damsel in distress?"
The masked man was shocked. That voice. His muscles tensed, his fingers twitched.
It couldn't be.
As the smoke cleared, a lone figure emerged.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a blue and black attire, a golden dragon head emblem stitched onto his cape. His short black hair barely moved in the breeze, and his sharp purple eyes gleamed with irritation.
A five-leaf clover dangled from his lips, resting like a cigarette.
Smoke curled from his right hand as he reached for the katana on his back. The sheath was deep purple and blue, exuding an unnatural aura. The blade itself was pure silver, gleaming under the moonlight, with black and purple stripes wrapped around its hilt.
The masked man's fists clenched.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," he thought. "HE didn't warn me about him."
But then—he exhaled.
"Tch. No matter," he mused, cracking his neck.
The newcomer, now fully revealed, narrowed his eyes. He slowly unsheathed his sword, releasing a subtle pulse of energy into the air.
"The Captain of the Blue Devils… Exandra."
BLUE DEVILS - ONE OF THE TEN LUMNI SQUADS