The morning light crept through the thin curtains, pale and quiet. Seijuro was already awake. He sat at the small kitchen table, wearing a simple dark tunic and loose trousers meant for travel, his blade wrapped in white bandages and strapped across his back. He hadn't slept much. Every time he closed his eyes, the bell rang again in his head.
Across the room, his mother stood by the stove, dressed in a plain village robe the color of ash and linen, sleeves rolled up as she stirred a pot that smelled faintly of herbs. She moved easily, comfortably, like this was how mornings were supposed to be.
Ruma sat at the counter nearby, already fully dressed. She wore her usual dark coat, neatly fastened, with fitted trousers and boots polished. Her hair was tied back, loose strands framing her face as she listened to Seijuro's mother with quiet attention, "You didn't have to stay," his mother said, glancing at Ruma with a soft smile. "But I'm glad you did."
"Had to make sure someone's stubborn ass was alright," Ruma replied, clearing her throat.
Seijuro exhaled through his nose. "I was fine."
Ruma turned sharply. "You were injured."
"It was minor."
"You came home with bruises and blood," she said, unimpressed. "That stopped being 'minor' the moment you didn't tell me."
His mother nodded once in agreement, "Exactly."
Seijuro looked away. His mother glanced between them, then smiled knowingly, "You two argue like an old married couple."
Seijuro nearly choked. "Mom."
Ruma stiffened. "We are not…"
"Oh, relax," his mother said lightly, waving a hand. "I'm teasing. Mostly."
She set a bowl in front of Seijuro, then another in front of Ruma. "Eat. Both of you."
They did. After finishing their meals, they stepped out into the morning air together. Seijuro's mother waved and added with a smirk, "And try not to get stabbed on your first mission. It makes bad first impressions."
The village was quiet. It had wooden beams, stone paths, low roofs patched by hand. Mist clung to the ground, soft and real, untouched by circuitry. Seijuro adjusted the strap of his cloak, the white-wrapped hilt of his blade visible over his shoulder.
Ruma walked beside him, boots crunching against gravel. Her coat was dark and fitted, threaded subtly with medical-grade fiber along the seams, her satchel humming faintly with dormant diagnostics, "You're angry," she said.
Seijuro didn't slow. "I'm fine."
Ruma stopped. He took two more steps before realizing she wasn't beside him. When he turned, she was watching him intently, "Your aura is red," she said. "Don't tell me you forgot you could read emotion."
He exhaled sharply. "They lied. Captain Frank and Lisa."
"Yes," Ruma said evenly,
"They knew people could die," he continued. "They sent us in like it was nothing. Did you know too?"
Ruma hesitated, "Yes." She paused, "Candidates are more likely to succeed without knowing about death,"
"Don't you think the other 'candidates' would be affected by seeing a comrade disintegrate? They're people, Ruma."
"Yes," she agreed. "But, the Foundation wants strong minds."
"They can get them without killing."
The dirt road narrowed as trees closed in around them. Old power lines ran through the branches overhead, dead but still humming faintly with residual charge. Ahead, the air warped. Not visibly at first, just a distortion, like heat haze crossed with static,
The invisible barrier around the foundation… forgot it was hidden…
Ruma stepped through without hesitation. Seijuro followed. The sensation hit instantly, cold pressure, like walking through dense code. His Tenebris reacted, light bleeding briefly from his chest before stabilizing. For half a second, the world pixelated. The forest behind him lost clarity, fading into something distant and irrelevant.
Ahead, the Foundation stood in full view. White stone and reinforced alloy, massive structures interlocking at sharp angles. Towers climbed high into a sky threaded with faint neon filaments, glowing lines suspended like circuitry frozen mid-pulse. Only the glowing sigils etched into the walls remained visible. At the peak, a massive central dome rippled with a white light.
As Seijuro and Ruma stepped forward, faint lines of light traced along the stone beneath his feet, like the Foundation had registered him and adjusted accordingly. The ground, covered in gardens and courtyards with cherry blossom trees lined broad walkways. Petals gliding softly onto the stone below,
"Somethings are needed, Seijuro." Ruma spoke softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You've proven you can handle it…"
Seijuro sighed, his muscles loosened as if a weight had been dropped off his body, "Maybe, doesn't make it right though."
She gave him a smile, gentle, reassuring, "If it makes you feel better, I don't like it either. When I see you again, make sure you're conscious and alive too."
She turned then, boots carrying her down a pathway marked by faint green glyphs that pulsed with medical symbols. As she walked away, the lights adjusted to her path, doors opening ahead of her before sealing behind her without a sound. Seijuro watched until she disappeared from sight. Then he continued forward.
Wide pathways stretched ahead, elevated slightly above the lower levels, curving naturally between buildings that felt too large to fully comprehend at once. Trainees moved along them in controlled streams, some in dark uniforms and others in reinforced armour, some walking alone, others in quiet groups. Their voices were low, fragments of conversation lost beneath the soft hum of energy running through the structure.
Along the pathways, holographic markers flickered into existence, guiding traffic and signaling restricted zones. At the main building, a glyph ignited along the path, just parallel of Seijuro's boots. It spread outward in a thin, circular pattern of pale violet light.
Upon entering, the walls rose high on either side, their surfaces a fusion of obsidian stone and dark alloy plating. Holographic sigils drifted across them in slow, deliberate motion, classification markers, containment warnings, directional glyphs. Some flickered as he walked by, briefly sharpening before dissolving back into the surface as if deciding he wasn't important enough to hold their attention.
People moved through the corridors in steady, purposeful lines. Dreamcatchers in standard training gear. Analysts in long coats threaded with faint circuitry. A few armored figures stood near sealed doors, faces hidden behind visors glowing with dim readouts. The Foundation wasn't silent, but it was quiet in a way that felt enforced.
Seijuro reached one of the central elevator columns, massive cylindrical shafts that rose far beyond what should have been structurally possible. The elevator platform waited openly, no doors, no buttons. As he stepped onto it, symbols flared beneath his feet. The platform began to rise. There was no lurch, no sound of cables. Just smooth ascent, the air pressure shifting subtly as layers of the Foundation slid past him.
Through the open sides of the shaft, he glimpsed other levels, training chambers suspended over voids, observation decks wrapped in holographic screens, sealed containment halls lined with warning glyphs that glowed a deeper, more hostile red.
The elevator slowed and settled seamlessly into a higher corridor. This hallway was narrower. The lighting dimmed, replaced by focused strips of pale neon along the floor and ceiling. The walls here were cleaner, less reactive, etched with permanent sigils rather than shifting ones. Doors lined the corridor at regular intervals, each marked with subtle identifiers, names, ranks, clearance levels,
Captain Frank's room is at the far end.
The door slid open as Seijuro approached, recognizing him without announcement. Inside, the room was stark but functional. Tiered seating curved inward toward a central floor marked with faded training sigils, remnants of demonstrations long past. Large holographic panels hovered near the walls, displaying paused data streams and archived exam results. The lighting was softer here, less oppressive, though the air still carried that same faint scent of metal.
Frank sat near the front, angled slightly toward a desk cluttered with files and glowing screens. His wheelchair rested comfortably within the room, integrated seamlessly into the space as if it had always belonged there.
That was when he noticed her. A young woman stood near the edge of the grounds, roughly his age. She wore standard Foundation training gear, dark fitted armor layered over a reinforced uniform, practical and unadorned. Her posture was relaxed, but alert. She had light blue eyes. Her hair was long and pale, tied back neatly, and tucked into it was a white lily,
The pale-haired girl in the exam… that's Captain Rose's sister…
Seijuro approached. As he did, she turned to face him, her expression immediately cooling, "You're Seijuro Yoshiki, right?" she asked,
"Yeah," he replied. "You're Lily?"
"Yeah." She studied him briefly. "You don't sound too happy about it."
"No… no, it's not that," he said. "I just didn't know I'd be partnered up."
She snorted. "Yeah, neither did I. If it makes you feel better, I'm not too keen on it either."
She crossed her arms, looking him up and down. "So. What's your story?"
"My brother Ren was transformed into a Fear by one of the Kings," Seijuro said evenly. "I'm here for revenge. That's all."
Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You really think you can reach that level? Do you know how many people share that same dream of yours?"
Seijuro frowned slightly. "I don't care about other people. I'm here for Ren."
"I can already tell you're stubborn," she said flatly. "You do know the Kings surpass even the Captains, right?"
"You don't know anything about me," Seijuro said, fists tightening at his sides,
"Good," Lily replied. "Because I don't want to. We might be partners, but I'm only doing this to get promoted out of being a Dreamcatcher. Let's make that clear."
Frank was seated in his classroom, marking exams when he looked up. He wore his usual long coat, worn at the edges, hands steady as ever, "The new Dreamcatchers," he said calmly, adjusting his wheelchair to face them while retrieving a file from his desk,
"So where's our first mission?" Lily asked, her tone noticeably more polite,
"You'll like this one, young Seijuro," Frank replied, "Near the outskirts of Lunar Village. There's been an uprising of Boogeymen. You'll clear them out."
He handed them a folded map and a small box with a single button. "Install your Dark Matter here. If you encounter anything stronger than a Boogeyman, press it. Do not engage with a Nightmare or higher. This alerts me and Lisa."
He paused. "The horses are waiting outside."
"Horses?" Lily echoed.
Outside, Lisa and Rose waited, holding the reins of two horses, one black, one brown. Lisa wore her usual composed uniform, smiling warmly, while Rose stood tall in her light blue cloak and knight armor, rose pinned neatly in her hair, "Good luck to you both," Lisa said, handing a rein to Seijuro as he gently patted the horse's head,
"Take care, little sister," Rose added, tapping Lily lightly on the head,
"I'm not a baby," Lily snapped,
Rose sighed. "Be careful."
Lily mounted her horse, then glanced at Seijuro with a smug grin. "You know how to ride, right?"
He smirked back. "I grew up in a village famous for horses."
Without warning, Lily took off at full speed. Lisa laughed softly. "You'd better catch up, Seijuro-san."
He nodded, mounted swiftly, and followed Lily's trail, heart heavy, blade steady.