Aeron and Arcane walked through the streets of Moltenforge, asking passersby if they'd seen someone matching Allesio's appearance.
"It's pointless without a picture of him," Aeron muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.
"It's getting dark. We should find an inn for the night," Arcane suggested, eyeing the setting sun.
As they neared a local inn, Aeron paused—his gaze drawn to a commotion up ahead.
A man knelt on the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around a bleeding woman. Her dress was soaked in blood, her breaths shallow. The man sobbed uncontrollably, his clothes stained red as he held her trembling hand.
Aeron and Arcane stood still.
"Don't worry about me..." the woman whispered, barely audible. "Look into the sky and you'll see me. I'll be the star… making the night beautiful for you."
Her eyes slowly closed, her body going still.
The man's anguished cry tore through the street as the killer—a man with a bloodied knife—bolted away into the shadows. A small crowd chased after him, but he vanished down the alleys.
"What happened here?" Aeron asked, voice tense.
"I heard there's a group of criminals in this town," Arcane replied, eyes narrowed. "They kill people for fun."
Aeron's breath caught in his throat. A distant memory struck him hard—images of flames, a burning room, and a girl surrounded by fire, face barely visible.
"Aeron, when you miss me," her voice echoed, "just look into the sky. I'll be there… making it beautiful." She smiled
His chest tightened. He gasped, clutching at it.
"What's wrong?" Arcane asked, concerned.
"I'm fine," Aeron forced a shaky breath. "Let's go to the inn."
Later that night...
Arcane was fast asleep. The quiet rhythm of his breathing filled the room.
Aeron, however, lay wide-eyed, thoughts spiraling. He looked over at Arcane, hesitated, then quietly got out of bed and slipped on a mask to hide his face.
He walked through the silent streets under the moonlight until he reached a shady, run-down house on the edge of town. He knocked.
A gruff voice growled from behind the door. "Who's there?"
As the door creaked open, Aeron lunged forward, driving a knife into the man's chest. The man collapsed, dead.
Shouts came from inside. Eight others rushed out, weapons drawn.
Aeron ran—leading them through twisting alleyways, across empty streets, and finally to the banks of a fast-moving river.
He stopped.
The pursuers caught up and hesitated. But before they could speak, Aeron struck.
With terrifying precision and agility, he used his time-slowing ability to evade every blow and strike them down, one by one.
As silence fell, Aeron stood over the bodies, panting. One by one, he dragged them to the river and let the current take them.
He looked down at his trembling hands.
"I'm supposed to save the world with this power?" he muttered. "It feels more like I was meant to kill using it…"
When Aeron returned to the inn, he was surprised to find Arcane sitting upright on the bed, arms crossed.
"You sure took your time," Arcane said, voice calm but filled with suspicion.
"Just… needed some fresh air. Midnight stroll," Aeron replied casually, lying down and pretending to sleep.
Arcane didn't press further—but he didn't stop watching either.
The next morning…
A crowd gathered near the old house Aeron had visited.
"Who killed him?" someone asked.
"He got what he deserved," another voice muttered.
"But still, he was human. Just like us…" arguments broke out among the townsfolk.
Standing at a distance, Arcane looked over at Aeron.
"Looks like someone made quite the scene," he said.
"Why are you looking at me?" Aeron deflected.
"Just wondering about the coincidences," Arcane replied. "You went out without telling, they died at the same time."
Aeron didn't answer.
Arcane paused, lowering his voice. "What did you do with the other bodies?"
Aeron didn't answer right away.
"I threw them in the river," he said flatly.
Arcane's expression darkened. "Why, Aeron? Why all of this?"
Aeron didn't respond. He just started walking faster, trying to outpace both the questions and the guilt that followed.
While walking through the narrow streets of Moltenforge, Aeron noticed a small boy dart past them, clutching stolen bandages and herbs. He had taken them from a medic's cart and disappeared into the alleyways.
"That looked suspicious," Aeron said.
"Let's follow him," Arcane nodded, already giving chase.
They trailed the boy through winding backstreets until they arrived at a rundown house on the edge of town. The door creaked as they entered. Inside, they found Allesio, wounded and barely conscious, covered in blood and crude bandages. The stolen herbs lay beside him.
"What happened to you?" Aeron asked, concern sharp in his voice.
The little boy stepped in front of Allesio protectively, arms outstretched. His eyes were wide with fear.
"They're friends," Allesio said, his voice hoarse but calm. The boy slowly stepped aside.
"Oh, so now we're friends?" Aeron smirked. "I'm flattered."
Allesio gave a weak, embarrassed look. "I only said it to calm the kid."
"What exactly happened?" Aeron asked, kneeling beside him.
"Aamon's here," Allesio replied.
Aeron's expression darkened. "Aamon? How did he know we were here??"
"I didn't sense any tracking magic on us," Arcane said, frowning.
"Where did you run into him?" Aeron asked.
"Ship docks. He stepped off one of the incoming boats," Allesio explained.
Aeron clenched his jaw. "Is that why I had that dream—to find him?" he thought.
"What are you thinking about?" Arcane asked.
"We need to get out of this town. Fast," Aeron said.
A sudden voice froze him in place.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?" Aamon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a sinister smile on his face.
Aeron turned slowly. "I'm just glad I got the chance to your face once more," he said with a mocking grin.
"Not afraid of me anymore?" Aamon raised a brow.
"I'm tired of running. Let's end this. Right here. Right now," Aeron declared.
"I only care about Allesio," Aamon said, stepping forward. "Hand him over and I'll let you go."
"Come and take him," Aeron growled.
Aamon's face darkened. In a blink, he lunged toward Aeron, aiming for his throat. But Aeron twisted his arm and landed a brutal kick to Aamon's ribs, sending him staggering backward.
Arcane and Allesio stood stunned.
"That was a good move," Aamon grunted, recovering. "Too bad it didn't do much."
"But this might," Arcane said. He unleashed a powerful gust of wind, launching Aamon into the air. As Aamon hovered mid-air, Aeron rushed in and punched him square in the face.
Blood dripped from Aamon's mouth as he stood up, now seething. He charged with his sword. Aeron drew his own blade just in time to block the strike and countered with another brutal kick.
"How is he dodging my attacks?" Aamon thought.
"I can protect people with my power too," Aeron muttered. "I still don't know the full extent of it… but I'll push myself until I do."
He charged. Aamon blocked high, but Aeron fainted and landed a deep cut across Aamon's chest.
"You little—!" Aamon snarled, fury overtaking him.
He raised his sword and his speed increased dramatically.
"Let's see how far your tricks go now!" Aamon shouted. But as his speed increased, so did Aeron's ability—time around him slowed. Aeron evaded blow after blow, then delivered a devastating strike that sent Aamon reeling.
Suddenly, Aamon calmed. "Sword Art: Lightning Strike."
In the blink of an eye, he was behind Aeron.
Aeron gasped. Blood sprayed from a slash across his chest.
"Don't get cocky. That was just me playing around," Aamon sneered.
Aeron gritted his teeth. "Why don't you try it again?"
Aamon, now truly enraged, charged once more. As Aeron readied to dodge, a vision flashed before his eyes—Aamon striking him from behind him.
"What is this… a future sight?"
Aeron trusted the vision and swung backward, just as Aamon appeared.
Steel tore through flesh. Aamon staggered, eyes wide in disbelief.
"H-how…?" he stuttered before collapsing, lifeless.
Aeron panted heavily, blood still dripping from his chest. His head spun from overusing his ability.
Arcane rushed forward. "Are you okay?"
"I'm ok," Aeron said with a strained voice.
Then, without warning, Aeron turned to Allesio and pointed his sword at him.
"If you ever leave again without saying a damn thing," he warned, "I'll make sure you regret it."
"I said I'd fix your problem, and I meant it."
Allesio went quiet. A memory surfaced...
"Why don't you make any friends?" Lilian once asked him.
"Why would I need friends when I have you?" he replied.
"One day, I won't be able to help you," Lilian had said. "But your friends will. Real friends are there because they care about you. Fake ones stay only for what they gain."
"You'll understand that one day."
Back in the present, Allesio's eyes softened. He looked at Aeron and whispered, "I'm counting on you."
Aeron blinked. "Wait… did I hear that right?"
But before he could say more, he collapsed from blood loss.