"That's it, right?" The woman walked to the edge of the hill, looking up at the pillar of light from the city center that sat in the valley. Or what's left of it. There was nothing to hear except the wind and the flames. The girl laughed, turning to her companion, smiling darkly.

"And what now?" The taller woman ignored her, staring at the battle site. Her golden hair flowed in the wind, covering her face that showed no emotion. The face of a person who has lost everything.

The dark-haired woman smiled broadly and looked towards the light with unconcealed joy.

"You allow this?!" a man's voice broke the silence. "You allow this, Lior!? She...she…!" The man fell to his knees, his body covered in blood. He had trouble breathing and speaking. He had little time left. The dark-haired woman approached him and crouched down, smiling. widely.

"Oh? 'Everyone is dying, oh how sad, oh how bad.'" The girl replied mockingly in a high-pitched voice, then quickly grabbed his face, causing him pain. "And what do you want to do with it, hero?" she approached him with a certain madness in her eyes mixed with joy. "Nothing." She stood up and started laughing. The boy looked at her angrily, mainly because he knew she was right. He couldn't do anything. He could barely hold back the tears. That pillar of light took his friends who were like family to him, took his loved one. He lost everything. He laughed contemptuously.

"Is that all you can afford, Lior?! You're a coward." He said with contempt in his voice to the blonde woman who turned to him. The other girl started to comment but was silenced by Lior.

"Okay then, boy." The blonde smiled slightly, showing interest.

"How about a bet?"

* * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

The man ran quickly between the buildings, trying to hide. He was all beat up. His elegant clothes were torn and bloody. His dark, long hair fell over his face. He looked at the full moon and sighed. He couldn't believe what had happened. He, the most powerful of his line, was defeated by some bounty hunter. He cursed quietly. He didn't give up yet and started walking further to the nearest park, hoping to lose his attacker.

The chill in the air caught him off guard. "Colder than I thought," he murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. He ambled toward a bench in the park, drawn to the breathtaking panorama of the cloudless night sky. The moon cast a silver glow on the lake's surface. A faint smile played on his lips as he took in the view. "Breathtaking," he whispered to himself. Stellis, a metropolis of striking contrasts, seamlessly blended its modern charm with an air of mystique, weaving together the rich cultural heritage of old Nova Terra with innovative architectural designs.

As the capital of the western part of the Nova Terraean federation, Stellis boasted a unique history, having hosted pivotal meetings of the Federation Government and occasional gatherings of the Global Government representatives. The world was divided into five distinct regions: Libertara, Britannia, NovaTerra, Aqualantida, and Zenorienta, each operating on a federal basis under the umbrella of the One World Government, established over five centuries ago in response to global upheaval. While each region maintained its distinct culture, faith, language, and customs, the Global Government ensured harmony and order worldwide.

This cosmopolitan city was a melting pot of cultures, where modernity and mystique coexisted in perfect harmony. Stellis was home to one of the Global Government's headquarters, the imposing Palace of Liberty, also known as Libertas Nova – one of several such structures on each continent, facilitating regional deliberations.

As a hub of cultural diversity, Stellis attracted people from all corners of the globe. Like many cities, it was divided into distinct districts, each reflecting the socio-economic fabric of its inhabitants. The affluent golden district boasted opulent apartments, fine dining establishments, and exclusive boutiques, catering to the elite. In contrast, the silver district, home to the middle class, offered comfortable residences, cozy cafes, and trendy boutiques. The working-class brown district was characterized by modest apartments, affordable bars, bustling bazaars, and factories, while the impoverished green district was marked by ramshackle huts, squalid streets, and garbage dumps. Although class disparities were evident, Stellis and the surrounding continent were spared the extreme contrasts found in other regions, such as LiberTara or Zenorienta.

Stellis offered a unique opportunity to experience the rich tapestry of cultures from various continents. The city's culinary scene reflected its diversity, with a wide range of dishes from different cultures, while the sounds of various accents and languages filled the air. Although a single global language was officially recognized, each region also maintained its native tongue.

Jayden's family had roots in Nórdland, where his parents had emigrated to Stellis when they were young. Both he and his sister were born there. The boy had always loved this place and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Here he found happiness. He smiled to himself, feeling the peace in his soul of belonging to this unique city.

The dark-haired man's lips curled into a string of profanities as his exhaustion threatened to consume him. His legs buckled, weakened by the copious amount of blood he'd lost. Just as all hope seemed lost, his gaze landed on a solitary boy in the park, and a triumphant smile spread across his face.

"Not yet," he muttered, a maniacal laugh bubbling up in his throat. He paused to admire the moon before swooping in behind the boy, his fangs sinking into the young man's neck. The boy struggled, but his attacker's grip was unyielding. As the boy's eyes glazed over, he caught sight of a blue butterfly dancing across the sky, its gentle flight a stark contrast to the violence unfolding below.

"Why?" the boy whispered, his voice barely audible. In the same instant, an unseen force hurled the attacker into the trees with incredible force, sending the boy tumbling to the grass, his strength spent.

The attacker's curses were cut short as he felt his bones shattering, blood gushing from his mouth. "Damn you," he spat, but his words were reduced to a mere whisper as his body succumbed to its injuries. The hunter approached, her face a mask of emptiness, her eyes devoid of hope. The attacker's gaze locked onto hers, and a spark of recognition ignited within him.

"How...?" he trailed off, his eyes scanning the figure before him. Comprehension dawned, and a wry smile twisted his lips.

"As the saying goes... sometimes you're the one driving the cart, and sometimes you're the one beneath its wheels." The hunter loomed over him, her expression unyielding. "Sweet dreams," she whispered, plunging a small dagger into his heart. She crouched beside him, watching as the life drained from his eyes. With a quiet efficiency, she retrieved something from his pocket, stood up, and brushed the dust from her pants. Her gaze fell upon the boy, and a curse escaped her lips. She would need to dispose of the body, but the nearby lake would suffice. As she approached the boy, her eyes narrowed, and she was about to toss him into the water when she caught sight of his gaze. A loud curse burst from her lips – the boy was still alive, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. It was not the look of a victim, but of someone who refused to surrender. The girl's glare intensified as she swore under her breath. She scooped up the boy and carried him beside the corpse, where she cut the dead man's wrist and pressed it to the boy's lips, ensuring he swallowed the blood. The boy's eyes went blank, and the girl's expression softened, her eyes clouding with sadness and regret.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a faint smile on her lips, as she cursed quietly to herself.