Time: 9:03 AM—The Day of the Date

The Veteran’s door creaked open with a long, metallic groan. The kind of sound that echoed regret.

His boots hit steel as he stepped inside, heavy with grime and the blood of failure. The quiet hum of his busted cybernetics pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Sparks trailed behind him.

He didn’t even get a chance to drop his coat.

“You failed!” Akira’s voice cut through the dim silence like a scalpel.

The Veteran looked up, instincts tensed.

She sat casually on the old leather couch like she owned the place—one leg crossed, fingertips resting against her cheek in an expression of calm, condescending patience. Beside her stood Kaito, his arms folded, his eyes unreadable.

“You were right to doubt him,” she said without even looking at Kaito.

The Veteran stopped mid-step. His eye twitched.

“If you’re not here to offer me him as a consolation prize,” he growled, “then you’ve got no business standing in my home.”

Akira’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “We’re here for answers.”

She stood, brushing a speck of dust from her sleeve as if it offended her existence. “What happened? Where’s the boy?”

The Veteran exhaled sharply, dragging his coat off and tossing it over a rusted chair. “There was… something unexpected.”

Kaito glanced at the scorched gashes across the Veteran’s cybernetic chest. “Are you trying to say the boy did all that?”

The Veteran scoffed. “Besides the shadow essence, he’s nothing impressive.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “Then how did you end up in this condition?”

He grunted, limping toward his workbench. “He got lucky.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed. “Lucky?”

The Veteran grabbed a loose connector cable and began detaching the bulky prosthetic from his left arm. “And… he had help.”

Kaito’s voice cut through. “What kind of help?”

The Veteran didn’t look at him. “A woman no older than 20.”

Akira’s head snapped toward Kaito, her tone dropping to arctic levels. “You assured me the girl can’t cause trouble.”

Kaito remained perfectly composed. “She didn’t. I’ve been watching her. There’s no way she—”

“Then who helped him?” Akira demanded.

The Veteran connected a port from his arm to the monitor on the wall. The screen sparked to life, static dancing before stabilizing into security footage.

“I don’t know who or what she was,” he muttered, voice low. “But there was something strange about her.”

Kaito stepped forward. “Can you explain to me her power?”

“I could,” the Veteran said flatly. “If she used any.”

Akira frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“She was just fast. Too fast. But it felt like she was holding back… on purpose.”

Kaito’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying she didn’t use any essence at all?”

The Veteran nodded.

Akira’s voice dropped to an icy whisper. “Show me.”

The moment the footage played, Akira’s eyes widened. Her breath caught. Then—crack. The screen shattered.

Before the shards hit the floor, she was across the room—hand around the Veteran’s throat, slamming him into the concrete wall. His cybernetics sparked and screamed as she pinned him there.

“You let her take him?” She hissed, venom laced through her words. “You let her walk away with him?”

The Veteran choked, unable to answer.

A pulse of blinding light exploded from her body—and she vanished in an instant, leaving no trace behind.

The Veteran coughed, sinking to one knee.

Kaito walked over, offering a hand.

The Veteran slapped it aside, forcing himself upright with a grunt.

Kaito didn’t argue. He simply turned and walked toward the exit.

“Wait,” the Veteran rasped behind him. “Who is she?”

Kaito paused at the door, just long enough.

“Her name,” he said quietly, “is Kira Valmont.”

He looked over his shoulder.

“Akira’s little sister.”