[READ A/N AT THE END.]
In the dark alleyway, two figures crouched beside a rusted crate. The narrow space between the two food stalls created the perfect shadow to hide in — made even more precise by the use of their stealth-type Memories.
Their target today?
None other than Nephis… of the Immortal Flame.
A high-value asset. One they couldn't touch inside the Academy.
But here?
No one was going to protect her.
Not from experienced criminal Awakeneds.
Such thoughts were likely running through their heads.
Juliet, having walked off earlier while others were engrossed looking through the photos, was already moving in the opposite direction. The moment she slipped behind the corner, her expression cooled.
No one had followed her.
Good.
She halted in the shade of a tall lamp post and quietly summoned a Memory.
A long, indigo cloak shimmered into existence — thin, flowing, almost weightless. It glimmered faintly before vanishing altogether, blending her into the shadows. It was one of her prized stealth Memories — layered with soul-attunement, tracking resistance, and speed enhancements.
A perfect fit for someone like her.
She crouched slightly…
Then launched.
Upward.
The wind whispered past her, but halfway into her leap, her body disappeared completely. She didn't need invisibility to move undetected — but it didn't hurt.
She moved across rooftops, dancing between tiles, gliding across branches, then sprinting across the ground — swift and weightless, like a ghost in a storm.
Within seconds, she was there.
Standing silently behind the two crouched Awakened. Close enough to smell the city dust on their coats.
She didn't move. She didn't speak.
She just waited.
Maybe they'd talk.
Maybe she'd get a name. A motive. A lead.
Two minutes passed.
Then three.
The men remained crouched, watching the group in the distance — Sunny, Avi, Cassie, and Nephis — who were enjoying their food, while looking here and there, no doubt trying to see where she had went, she had already told them that in case one of them gets lost, just stay where they are and she'll find them themselves.
The first man looked rough — mid-thirties, a deep vertical scar running from his right eyebrow to his chin. His dark brown hair was messy, and though he had the lean build of most Awakened, there was a puffiness to his gut. A man who had seen a lot, maybe gotten lazy.
The other was younger-looking. Ash-gray hair, brown skin, sharper features. His stance was tighter. Harsher.
A second later, Juliet blinked.
A blade — blunt but wide — was suddenly inches from her face.
Without flinching, she tilted her head, letting it pass by harmlessly.
Her hand snapped up and grabbed the wrist behind the weapon.
Another blade came from below, aimed for her ribs.
She leaned back just enough for the strike to miss, still holding the first guy's hand, then twisted mid-air, her cloak fluttering like a raven's wing as she brought her heel up in a tight arc.
Crack.
The first man went down hard — unconscious before he hit the ground.
The second man barely reacted before Juliet had pressed him into the concrete, one leg across his shoulder and her weight planted squarely over his back. Her elbow pinned his neck down as she sat atop him like she was posing for a throne.
"Is that any way to greet a lady?" she asked casually, brushing dust from her sleeve.
The man growled beneath her, writhing, but Juliet's grip didn't budge.
"Who sent you?" she asked.
Silence.
She twisted his wrist.
He winced but still said nothing.
"Hm. Loyal."
She stood and flipped him over with one foot, his face slamming against the floor. He struggled again — just long enough to swing his blade upward.
Juliet caught it between two fingers.
Then she knocked him out cold with a single jab to the temple.
Both bodies crumpled at her feet.
Juliet exhaled slowly.
Well, well.
They were sending Awakened now.
No more petty thugs or hired mundanes. That meant whoever was behind this wasn't hiding their hand anymore. They were getting bold.
From what she'd been told by her own contacts and superior, the most these people would dare send were mundane criminals—anything more, and the person backing Nephis would move.
And no one wanted that.
Because Juliet didn't know who that powerful force behind Nephis was.
But she knew enough to know that even the Great Clans were treading lightly. That silence alone told her everything.
So if they were sending Awakened now…
That protection was slipping.
And Nephis—Nephis was in more danger than even she knew.
Juliet had known who Nephis was from the beginning. The Immortal Flame wasn't just any lineage.
It was the lineage.
Daughter of Smile of Heaven and Broken Sword.
High-profile.
Hunted.
A bloodline people would kill for—or kill to wipe out.
She'd been genuinely surprised to see someone like Sunny tangled up with her. The kid was smart, cautious, sharp when he needed to be—but still. Sunny? Her Sunny? The grumpy kid from the outskirts who never looked up long enough to smile?
And now he had gone and made friends with the most dangerous Sleeper on the planet.
Of course he had.
She'd hesitated to let Nephis come along. Wasn't sure she trusted her. Wasn't sure she should. Sunny and Cassie could get hurt.
But then they had talked.
Not for long.
Just a short conversation—ten, maybe fifteen minutes.
Nephis turned out to be such an awkward girl, it was funny in itself.
She didn't know anything about the world.
And then there was what Avi said. How she had gone on and on about her three Big sisters and how she is going to be a princess going up.
What Cassie said. How she had commented really happily that she might have found a true friend, her previous ones were too jealous of her and so she never had a true friend.
What Sunny said. About a girl too burdened by the weight of things she shouldn't carry and neither she was supposed to, that all she was, was just an innocent caught in the crossfire of things she didn't wish too.
And Juliet saw her differently.
Nephis wasn't some trained cold-blooded killer from the halls of the Immortal Flame.
She was—
Just a girl.
A girl with no one to talk to.
No one to rely on.
No shoulder to cry on.
A girl caught in the gears of power, broken not because she was weak—but because she was born.
A childhood stripped away by people too proud, too paranoid, too obsessed with legacy to leave a child alone.
Just another tired, wounded soul trying to survive.
Trying to laugh.
Trying to find a way to live without watching her back every second.
And the fact that she saw herself in her.
Broken.
Helpless.
Weak.
and...
Alone.
All against the world.
Juliet clenched her fists.
And she'd be damned if anyone tried to take that away from her.
Not while she was still breathing.
She was about to check their pockets for any clue when—
Boom.
The ground shuddered. A pressure like thick fog pressed down over her, filling the alleyway with something heavier than air.
She turned.
A figure was descending from the rooftop behind her.
No stealth.
No sound.
But it felt wrong.
Too sharp. Too clean. Too strong.
Juliet's brow furrowed.
An Ascended.
"Well…" she muttered, cracking her neck as the new opponent landed, boots hitting the stone with a quiet, echoing tap. "Isn't this the cherry on top."
Then again, this is the only chance they have, that too by luck, since they never know when Nephis would come out of the protection of Academy Again.
She hadn't drawn a weapon against the previous two, now though, sparks started shimmering around her.
But she didn't move.
She just looked past the Ascended for a second — to the faint sound of laughter still coming from the food stalls.
Avi. That bright, chaotic smile.
Sunny, always playing the grumpy big brother. Still too honest underneath.
Cassie — thoughtful, kind, gentle. Always listening.
And Nephis…
That quiet gaze, unreadable. But when she had looked at Juliet earlier — it was with the eyes of someone who saw her as… dependable.
Someone she could rely on.
Someone she could relax with.
Someone she could turn her back to.
And someone she didn't have to guard against.
The eyes no child should have had.
Juliet breathed in once, slow and sure.
"Ascended Soul Reaper."
Came a cold voice.
A Man.
He was covered in white cloak, a direct opposite to her own.
She took off the upper part of the cloak hiding her face. A cold look on her face.
The voice continued in the same cold tone as before.
"This doesn't concern you, turn back, and let me handle those two and...don't interfere with the Immortal flame legacy. "
"This is my first and last warning."
Juliet leaned on the glaive she had summoned, a long dark pole with a stretched blade at the end. Its midnight form glistening in the darkness.
"Quite strange isn't it?" Juliet mused. "To know of me and still have the galls to stand before me? And what, giving me a warning? Especially when you aren't even a Saint."
The man was silent for a second.
Then he spoke.
"You already know who I am. If we cross blades, you know exactly what you're up against. Are you really willing to throw away your only shot at transcending? The measly chance you have of being a Saint would be dashed away. I've heard the stories—you're cold. Rational. The type of woman who calculates before she acts. Act like you are supposed to."
Juliet's smile widened.
"Cold and logical woman, huh? Such... compliments. Wow."
She straightened.
Lifted her glaive.
Its blade now pointed directly at him.
"But I'm not impressed."
A pause.
"No, actually..." Her smile turned sharper, almost coy. "...It's more accurate to say another man already impressed me. So you don't have a shot. And as for logic?"
She laughed—soft, dangerous.
"Maybe the elders were right. Women in love are crazy."
There it was.
The moment shifted.
Gone was the quiet calm. The still poise. Her aura flared—not wild, but sharp. Controlled. Focused. Deadly.
Before, she thought, she could've lost. Could've turned back. Could've walked away alone.
But not anymore.
Now, she had people behind her.
People she cared about.
People who cared back.
And that changed everything.
That's why she wouldn't be Juliet anymore.
Not the Juliet who smiled teasingly at Sunny.
Not the one who playfully scolded Avi.
Not the one who offered Cassie quiet warmth, Or the one Nephis looked to… and saw a friend.
No.
Now she was who she'd been before all of them.
She was Jet.
Ascended Soul Reaper.
Feared even among the Saints.
She tightened her grip on the cloak, her fingers curling with quiet resolve. A slow, razor-thin smile tugged at her lips.
"Alright, mystery freak," she said, her voice low, deliberate.
"I don't know who you are..."
Her glaive shimmered in the dimness—lean, cruel, and beautiful. A thing meant for war, not warnings.
"...but I do know one thing—"
She stepped forward, her shadow stretching long behind her.
"You picked the wrong family."