It was midnight, and the city of Jinzhou lay mostly asleep. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional patrolman or a lone owl perched atop crumbling rooftops.
Yet the echoes of the day's uproar lingered—like the futile attempts to imitate the city's mysterious, esteemed guest.
But not all slumbered. Watchful eyes remained vigilant upon the walls, scanning the horizon for any anomaly—unaware that two anomalies had already slipped within.
Two figures—one male, one female—moved through Jinzhou's shadowed streets, their crimson garments fluttering faintly in the night breeze. They trailed a young man, their eyes unreadable, concealing whatever twisted intentions lay beneath.
The man surged forward, fingers twitching, eager to strike—until the woman spoke, "Be patient, Scar."
Scar scowled, his voice edged with restrained malice. "Why not just burn this city down and take what we want?"
The woman's eyes stayed cold, her tone smooth. "We will have our time."
He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. "Haaah… If only I wasn't paired with you, Phrolova. I might have already feasted tonight."
A dangerous grin tugged at his lips. "I'm hungry for it; carnage."
But then—
"Are you two hungry?" A voice interrupted.
The pair froze, turning to see a man emerging from the shadows. He stood tall—around six foot two—with jet-black hair that shimmered faintly under the moonlight.
His eyes, shaped like lotus petals, held within them a pale celestial glow — like twin moons suspended in calm waters. Yet, for all the quiet splendor he carried, he held something oddly mundane in his hand: a watermelon.
As he approached, an familiar scent filled the air—the sweet freshness of first rain. Everything about him radiated an unsettling pleasantness.
He offered the watermelon to Scar, who, caught off guard, instinctively reached out. The man smiled—pleasant, unfazed, as though offering a gift to an old friend.
"Here," the man said softly, his voice smooth as a spring breeze. "Have it, to fill your empty stomach."
Though his own stomach churned faintly, the man showed no sign of discomfort. His pleasant smile remained unwavering.
After handing the watermelon to Scar, he turned and walked away—like a gentle breeze passing through the night. He had come, offered food despite his own hunger, and departed with quiet grace.
This, was one of the three extreme traits Lian was born with: Compassion.
If he saw hunger in others, he offered food without hesitation—for unlike them, they lacked his endurance. His own body had long since adapted; it had endured since the parting meal given by his honorary mother, Yin.
At the Imperator's suggestion, he wore the ornament of Benevolence—not as decoration, but as a constant reminder: "I possess great strength; thus, I must wield it—whether through action, speech, or thought."
A/N: Reference from Chapter—The Threnodian of Impermanence: Marelys.
Hunger gnawed at him still, but he paid it no mind. To him, his strength was not his possession, but a gift of existence. And so, his only duty was service—to offer either mercy or ruin, as the world required, in devotion to existence's endless becoming.
Right now, he chose mercy because he could. But if ever a moment came when mercy was no longer deserved, his hands would not tremble.
Scar stood frozen, the watermelon still in his hands. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt strangely offended by the whole exchange.
His pride bristled, and he raised the fruit as if to smash it against the stone pavement—when Phrolova's hand caught his wrist.
"Do not waste food," she said firmly.
Her voice was calm but left no room for argument. "If you don't want it, give it to me."
Scar growled under his breath but relented. With a quick draw of what seemed like a black card, he sliced the watermelon in half and handed one to her. They both bit into the fruit in silence, its sweet juice dripping onto the ground.
"Sweet," Scar muttered, almost begrudgingly.
Phrolova gave a faint nod, savoring the taste. But her eyes narrowed as she stared at the empty street where the man had disappeared, a subtle unease settling deep within her.
He felt… pleasant.
The man's voice, his unsettling calm, his unreadable eyes that seemed to reflect distant moons—all of it lingered in her mind longer than it should.
"Maybe we should investigate him too," she finally said, more to herself than to Scar.
Scar furrowed his brow. "What?"
Phrolova's gaze remained distant, her tone composed as she explained, "He doesn't seem ordinary. Besides," she added, "I saw the Ghost Hounds emblem on his Terminal."
Scar's eyes narrowed, suddenly more attentive. "Could he be the Maverick?"
There was a flicker of excitement in his voice now. Even Scar, who cared little for titles, was intrigued. The Maverick's name was infamous—not for being widely known, but for the opposite.
A rookie, yet every commission taken was fulfilled with absolute success.
No failures.
Ever.
Phrolova took another bite of the watermelon, chewing slowly.
"Perhaps," she said softly, though an unusual glimmer stirred beneath her calm voice. The sweetness lingered longer than it should have—as did the image of the man with lotus-petal eyes.
From afar, Sanhua observed the entire exchange, her sharp eyes narrowing as she watched the man depart.
Inwardly, she pondered, 'Is that man foolish... or does he truly not sense the dangers around him?'
A faint crease formed on her brow. 'Or perhaps... he is simply brave?' For now, she couldn't tell—but decided to ignore it, as the man was unharmed.
***
"Food… I need food."
The thought gnawed relentlessly at their minds, hunger twisting like a serpent in their guts.
Outside the city walls near Jinzhou, crimson cloaks lay scattered beneath the waning moonlight. Their breaths were ragged, stomachs aching, muscles taut with silent desperation.
They were members of the infamous organization—Fractsidus.
Stationed here by the Overseers, they were told to wait, to lie low until orders arrived. But the waiting dragged on, and hunger's claws tore at their resolve.
The night air was cold and still, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl or the faint rustle of dead leaves skittering across the ground. No fire burned. No scent of cooked meat or fresh bread teased their senses.
Perhaps only the Tacet Discords dared move so late. Otherwise, no sustenance remained.
Then, like a balm to their need, a voice cut through the stillness. "You can have this if you are hungry."
Heads turned sharply, eyes narrowing against the darkness. From the shadows, stepped a woman, small in stature but radiating an unshakable presence.
Her hair was deep navy, shimmering faintly in the moonlight. Her eyes—large, lotus-shaped, with irises like aquamarine jewels.
She had come for a breath of fresh air—a moment of quiet beneath the endless stars. The silver moonlight washed over her pale form as a gentle breeze stirred her garments.
But then, she stumbled upon them.
A small group of Fractsidus lingered beneath the gnarled trees—masked, cloaked in shadow, and overwhelmed hunger.
Yet, it was not the hunger of empty stomachs, but the gnawing void of darker appetites. Their eyes, obscured behind masks, flickered as they turned toward the lone woman.
Lian's gaze, calm as ever, met theirs without fear.
She approached softly, as though nearing beggars on the roadside. In her hand, she held a cloth bag that rustled faintly—the sound of dry rice grains shifting within.
"Here," she offered, extending the bag, her voice gentle as a breeze.
But the Fractsidus' eyes did not consider the offering as their eyes passed beyond the bag and locked onto her—the woman herself had become their target.
The bag of rice meant little. Their true hunger stirred not for grains, but for the warm pulse beneath her pale skin. Desire to consume human flesh.
They looked at each other, a silent, unanimous decision passing among them: "She will be the meal."
Then, their hands moved—not for the rice, but for her.
But before desire could become action, a flash of silver cleaved the air.
The leader's arm was severed at the joint, the motion so swift his scream came only after his hand hit the ground with a soft thud. The others recoiled, but before they could react, another flash danced between them like moonlight on water.
Limbs began to fall. One by one, each Fractsidus was disarmed, dismembered—yet none died. There was no blood loss, no spasms of agony. Their wounds did not bleed.
As if reality itself refused to permit their deaths or suffering. An invisible force held the trauma in suspension, denying both life's end and death's embrace.
Photons—light itself—were the language through which this world whispered its truths. Information traveled upon these luminous threads, telling the world what existed, what had changed, what had broken.
Yet, in this instance, when her blade moved—The world simply did not register it.
The dismemberment existed—but the signals of pain, of blood loss, of rupture—never reached their bodies, nor the world's awareness.
The cuts had happened without happening, as if the world had been politely asked not to observe.
The Fractsidus, shivering and breathless, gazed at the woman. And only then, did they see it—the glint of steel under the moonlight.
Beside the woman, embedded halfway into the earth, stood a massive axe — a towering weapon easily three times her size, whose blade gleamed with unnatural sharpness, as though untouched by the severed flesh it had just cleaved.
Lian stood still, gaze steeped in measured judgment.
"It seems you do not wish to accept what was offered freely," she spoke softly, her voice echoing in the silence. "You are not hungry for sustenance, but for desire."
Her lotus-petal eyes glimmered beneath the moonlight.
"In that case," she continued, her tone like a velvet blade, "I shall feed those who are in true need."
The dismembered Fractsidus—still breathing, still conscious—were lifted from the earth, their bodies suspended as though the air itself carried them.
Like broken dolls, they floated behind her as she walked deeper into the forest, where even darker shadows waited.
Not far ahead, a clearing opened, revealing a pack of Tacet Discords. They emerged from the undergrowth—beasts of nightmare, eyes gleaming with instinctual hunger.
The pack consisted of smaller, brown-furred Fusion Dreadmanes, and one massive creature—a towering Havoc Dreadmane, its fur black as midnight, its eyes cold and calculating. The air trembled as it growled, hunger radiating from its monstrous frame.
The scent of blood reached their noses, and their growls deepened.
Lian approached without fear. With a faint flick of her hand, she released the Fractsidus—their broken bodies landing heavily on the grass.
"Go ahead," she whispered.
The wolves needed no further invitation.
The Tacet Discords lunged, tearing into the helpless Fractsidus with brutal efficiency. They devoured not for cruelty, nor for desire, but simply for hunger. And in their savage feast, there was a strange purity—which made Lian smile.
As the feeding ended, the great Havoc Dreadmane approached her.
It lowered its massive head, sniffing her gently before bowing, a deep rumble of submission rising from its throat.
Lian placed her hand on its thick fur, ruffling it gently. The beast let out soft, almost blissful whimpers—like a dog comforted by its master.
***
The morning sun cast a gentle amber glow over Jinzhou as Rover navigated the lively streets. Crisp air mingled with the aroma of freshly baked buns and the distant chimes of street vendors preparing their stalls. Though just past seven, the city was already coming alive.
Panhua's Restaurant waited quietly on the rooftop, its open-air layout inviting the morning breeze as paper lanterns swayed gently.
Warmth greeted Rover as he walked up to the rooftop, the bird's faint flapping marking his arrival.
There, Chixia and Yangyang sat at their usual corner table, chatting softly. Their faces brightened with smiles when they saw him.
"Morning, Rover!" Chixia called, waving him over.
"Good morning," Rover replied, sliding into the seat across from them.
After exchanging pleasantries and brief updates about the day ahead, Chixia called toward the counter. "Mrs. Panhua, good morning! Three bowls of extra spicy noodles, please!"
From behind the counter, Mrs. Panhua's warm voice answered, full of familiarity, "Coming right up!"
The comforting clatter of pots and the fragrant scent of simmering broth soon filled the open air as they settled in, anticipation for a hearty breakfast ahead.
Rover and friends waited eagerly for their meal, Rover almost bouncing with excitement. The aroma wafting from the kitchen had already begun to make his stomach growl.
Moments later, a worker appeared, carefully balancing a bowl on a tray.
Rover's eyes followed the tray, his hunger sharpening his focus on the steaming dish. But when the food was set not at their table, but at a nearby seat, his gaze shifted.
"Here's your food," the worker said with a smile.
There sat a navy-haired girl, calm and composed. Rover's eyes widened in recognition.
It was her—the gentle girl who had shared pancakes with him just yesterday.
He watched as Lian, graceful and poised, prepared to eat. But before she could take her first bite, a soft chorus of chirping filled the air. Small birds fluttered down, perching nearby. She glanced at them, sensing their silent plea.
Without hesitation, she tore small pieces from her meal, setting them aside for the birds. They pecked eagerly, chirping with delight.
Soon, more creatures arrived—tiny squirrels, a stray kitten, even a pair of curious insects drawn to her.
Each time, Lian shared her food, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her plate gradually emptied, yet she showed no frustration, only quiet serenity.
The scene soon caught the attention of other patrons. Whispers drifted through the restaurant.
"Who feeds animals like that?"
"Is she really giving it all away?"
Mrs. Panhua eventually approached, her expression gentle but concerned. She leaned in and whispered, "Child, if you want to feed them, give them food meant for them. The guests here might feel uneasy otherwise."
Lian nodded softly, understanding. She quietly prepared to eat at last. Only one bite remained.
Growl—
Suddenly, a loud growl broke the calm.
Rover's face flushed as his stomach betrayed him. Embarrassed, he looked away, but when he glanced back, he saw Lian carefully lifting the last piece of tofu with her spoon.
With a gentle smile, she offered it to him. "Ahh."
Caught off guard, Rover instinctively opened his mouth as Lian placed the last spoonful food inside.
"You seem to have quite the appetite," she remarked, a faint laugh escaping as she hid her smile behind her fingers.
Realizing what had happened, Rover quickly stood and stammered, "I—I'm sorry for eating your food!"
But Lian simply shook her head, placed some money on the counter, and quietly left.
As she walked toward the exit, Chixia whispered, "Who was that strange girl?"
Meanwhile, Rover watched Lian's departing figure, his heart unexpectedly warm.
'An angel,' he thought.
A/N: With a axe, maybe I will give her a shotgun one day.
To be continued...
***
A/N: About Lian's Resonance Ability. Well Let's take example from in game or fandom information:
1. Jinhsi's Resonance Spectrum Pattern matches closely to Sentinel Jué, the Loong of Spring Thunder, and she manipulates light to create holographic projections mirroring Jué's power.
Correlation: Holograms → Light Manipulation → Spectro
2. Verina's Resonance Spectrum Pattern aligns with plant life and the flowers on her body allow her to convert resonance frequency into Spectro energy for storage, much like the process of photosynthesis.
Correlation: Photosynthesis → creating energy from light → Spectro
3. For Lian, His/ Her Resonance Spectrum Pattern reflects the infinite recursion of the Mandelbrot set, binding photons in fractal loops that encode reality itself.
By recursively shifting photon frequencies beyond the observable spectrum, he/ she renders his/ her actions invisible—both to others and to the world's 'perceptual' fabric.
Special Note: To Lian, time is not a linear sequence, but simply one of many patterns etched into the ever-shifting lattice of light.
Correlation: Fractal Recursion → Recursive Photon Displacement → Spectro