The silence in Copperpoint Village was unnatural. Hugo walked slowly through the empty streets, Spiral Wonder hanging at his side. Every corner was too still, every shadow too long. He could almost hear his own breath echoing off the walls.
Then came a sound.
Click.
A soft metallic scrape—like a foot brushing against stone. Hugo's crimson eyes narrowed. He turned sharply, scanning the rooftops and alleyways. Nothing.
But the feeling of being watched refused to leave. Someone—or something—was following him. His hand instinctively tightened around Spiral Wonder's hilt, his wind rune humming faintly.
Stay alert.
He pressed deeper into the village, past the lifeless market square and the wrecked bakery, until a faint groan caught his attention. It was coming from the remains of an old building, its roof caved in and windows shattered. A rundown orphanage.
Hugo's boots crunched over broken glass as he entered. The stench of blood hit him instantly. The inside was worse than the streets—burnt furniture, overturned tables, blood stains painted like cruel art.
In the far corner, Hugo's eyes found them—five children huddled together, their faces pale with fear. Nearby, a caretaker lay slumped against the wall, blood soaking through his clothes. He was still breathing, barely.
Hugo crouched beside him. "What happened?"
The man's voice was faint, trembling. "...Phoenix… mark… they… they killed everyone… I couldn't protect them." He coughed blood. "Take… take them. These children… they're all that's left."
Hugo's gaze shifted to the five children:
Jack, hot-headed and defiant, glaring at him like Hugo was the enemy.
Steven, quiet but with wide, analytical eyes.
Christopher, calm but clearly holding back anger.
Rae, her fine clothes torn, yet holding herself like she still belonged in a better world.
Eva, shy and trembling, half-hiding behind Christopher.
Hugo straightened, his cold tone cutting through the tension. "I'm not a caretaker. But I'll see them out of this hell."
The dying caretaker smiled faintly, almost in relief. "You… you're Jacob's brother. I know you'll protect them."
Hugo froze for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicking to the children. "…Don't mistake me for Jacob. I'm not him."
The caretaker's eyes closed, and the room fell silent again.
"Stay here," Hugo ordered, his cold tone cutting through the air like a blade. He turned toward the door, scanning the empty street beyond.
"I'm not staying with some stranger!" Jack snapped. The boy's eyes burned with a reckless fire. "You can't just tell me what to do! I'm going to find the others!"
Before Hugo could respond, Jack stormed out of the orphanage.
"Idiot," Hugo muttered under his breath. He followed, but the boy had already run halfway down the street.
The silence was broken by a sharp, metallic hiss—and a dark shadow dropped from the rooftops.
A man clad in black leather armor landed between Hugo and Jack, his mask shaped like a bird's beak. A phoenix insignia glimmered faintly on his shoulder. An Ash Talon.
"Well, well…" the assassin's voice was cold and hollow. "One survived. I'll fix that."
Before Jack could react, the assassin grabbed him by the collar, pressing a dagger etched with runes against the boy's throat.
"Move and the brat dies," the Talon said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You must be Hugo Arc… the Assembly wants you quiet."
Hugo's expression didn't change. His crimson eyes locked onto the Talon like a hawk's.
"Let the boy go," Hugo said flatly, his hand hovering over Spiral Wonder's hilt.
The assassin chuckled. "Or what? You'll talk me to death?"
"Three seconds," Hugo said.
The Talon blinked. "What—"
"Two." Hugo's fingers brushed the gearblade's hilt, his stance shifting ever so slightly.
Jack's wide eyes darted between the assassin and Hugo. Who is this guy…?
"One."
The moment Hugo said, "One," time cracked open.
The Ash Talon didn't hesitate—he shoved Jack backward and lunged. His rune-etched dagger glowed red with elemental heat, carving a trail of fire through the air. Hugo's hand moved like a piston, Spiral Wonder snapping free from its sheath with a burst of wind.
CLANG!
Steel met steel in a bright clash of runic sparks. The force of the impact sent steam spiraling from the street vents.
"Not bad," the Talon sneered, leaping back and throwing a trio of explosive rune disks. They detonated in flashes of light and smoke, forcing Hugo to slide back behind a crate.
From the fog, the Talon's voice slithered out."You're not as fast as they say."
"Still faster than you," Hugo muttered.
He activated the wind rune in Spiral Wonder. The pressure built instantly, gears along the blade spinning with a whine. He surged forward—a blur of steam and precision.
The Talon blocked again, barely, then countered with a brutal kick to Hugo's ribs. Hugo grunted but twisted his blade upward, nearly severing the assassin's wrist. Blood splashed onto the dirt.
The Talon snarled, switching stances. His dagger glowed again—this time with a faint time delay rune. He was using rune stacking. Dangerous.
They clashed again—blades ringing like bells, feet shifting on cracked cobblestones. The Talon went for a wide arc. Hugo ducked, used his strength rune, and punched the assassin through a broken stall.
But the man rolled and came up instantly, hurling a raw fire rune directly under Hugo's feet. It burst, sending Hugo into the air.
The detective twisted mid-fall, landing hard, coat singed. His scarf fluttered in the smoke. His eyes glowed crimson.
"You done?" he asked coldly.
The Talon charged again, blade spinning. Hugo let him come. At the last second, Spiral Wonder locked gears and flared both runes at once—wind and strength.
The impact cracked the ground. The Talon staggered. Hugo didn't hesitate. A clean slash disarmed the man, and a second brought Spiral Wonder's edge to his throat.
Checkmate.
The assassin coughed, blood trickling from his lip. "You… you really are the Genius of the Bleeding Requiem…"
Hugo's voice was ice. "Tell your leader I'm coming for answers."
Then he struck the man unconscious with the hilt of his blade. The Talon collapsed in a heap.
Jack stared, wide-eyed, from the alley. "Who… who are you?"
Hugo sheathed his sword. "Someone who keeps idiots like you alive."
The quiet after the battle felt heavier than the fight itself. The Ash Talon lay unconscious and bound, the rune blade tossed aside like a discarded relic. Hugo didn't spare it another glance. He turned away, his scarf fluttering behind him as he walked toward the alley where Jack stood frozen.
The boy didn't speak at first. He stared at Hugo with wide eyes, like he was still trying to process what he'd just witnessed. Then his hands clenched into fists.
"...I'm sorry," Jack said quietly, voice almost lost in the wind.
Hugo paused, barely turning his head.
"I shouldn't have run off," Jack continued. "I just… I thought you were just some boring old guy barkin' orders."
Hugo raised an eyebrow slightly. Old guy? He almost responded—but Jack kept going.
"But that fight… the way you moved, the way you used that blade... You were amazing." His tone shifted from shame to something close to awe. "Like something outta a storybook."
Hugo turned fully this time, looking at him properly. "This isn't a storybook," he said flatly. "You could've died."
Jack nodded solemnly. "I know… that guy was gonna kill me. I get it now. I'll listen next time."
A pause.
"Thanks for saving me," Jack said, quieter.
Hugo didn't smile. He didn't offer comfort. But he did give a nod.
"That's the first smart thing you've said today."
Jack grinned a little. "You still don't know my name, do you?"
"No," Hugo said, already walking.
"It's Jack."
"I'll forget it if you get yourself killed again."
They returned to the ruined orphanage, where the other children were waiting with tense, worried expressions. Steven rushed to Jack first, followed by Eva, who held his sleeve tightly. Rae crossed her arms and looked away, clearly shaken but trying to appear indifferent.
Christopher stepped forward, studying Hugo and Jack with a calculating gaze. "You're bleeding."
Hugo glanced down—one of the burns from the raw rune had scorched through his coat. He hadn't noticed. "It's nothing."
"You beat one of them," Christopher said. "The ones with the phoenix mark. The ones who did… this."
Hugo didn't respond. He only scanned the room, noting their faces again—now not just frightened, but finally starting to believe they might survive this.
But his mind was already working. If an Ash Talon had been here, that meant more would come. This wasn't over.
And these children were now witnesses.
"We're heading back to Flywheel City," Hugo said firmly, his voice calm but absolute. "It's not safe here. The longer we stay, the more danger you're in."
The children sat in the half-collapsed orphanage, faces grim.
"Wait—what about my daddy?" Rae stepped forward suddenly, her tone sharper than usual. "We can't just leave without him. He's the mayor! Maybe he's hiding somewhere or trapped—"
"No," Hugo cut in, eyes cold. "He's likely dead. This wasn't a robbery or a riot. It was a purge. If he was here… they wouldn't spare him."
Rae clenched her fists, tears already welling. "You don't know that!"
"I know the Ashblood Wings," Hugo said. "They don't leave survivors."
Before Rae could shout, Christopher stepped in. "Sir…" He hesitated. "Let her see. Even if it's true… she needs to know for herself."
Hugo stared at him. That look again—too smart for his age. A quiet understanding of pain.
After a tense pause, Hugo nodded once. "Five minutes."
They walked through the broken streets of Copperpoint, past silent shops and shattered windows, toward the grand home that once belonged to the village mayor.
The front door had been blasted open.
Inside, they found him.
Rae's father lay in the middle of the parlor floor, half-covered by a torn velvet drape. His eyes were wide open, lifeless, and a deep phoenix mark was carved into his chest like a final insult.
Rae froze. Then dropped to her knees beside him.
"Daddy…?" Her voice cracked. "Daddy, please… get up…"
No answer.
She shook him. "Daddy!"
But the body didn't move. And reality, like a steel wall, finally crashed into her.
She sobbed. Loud, ragged cries that echoed through the hollow mansion.
Steven stood frozen, his hand over his mouth. He couldn't speak. Jack stared at the floor, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. "I should've done something…" he muttered.
Christopher turned away, biting his lip. "I was supposed to protect them… protect all of them…"
Eva stepped forward and hugged Rae without saying a word—her own tears slipping down her cheek.
Hugo stood by the doorway, silent. The pain in his chest wasn't new—it was familiar. And that made it worse.
He didn't move. Didn't comfort. Didn't offer empty words.Because he had been Rae once.
Kneeling beside a brother who wouldn't move.
No one could say anything to make it better. Not even him.
The copper-plated train cut through the quiet countryside, hissing steam into the fading light. Inside one of the rear cabins, the six passengers sat in uneasy silence. The children were still processing the devastation of Copperpoint, their faces pale and tired, their eyes distant.
No one spoke for a while. The hum of the train and the soft clatter of the tracks filled the void. Hugo sat by the window, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded—but alert.
It was Christopher who broke the silence. "We… we should probably know who we're stuck with."
Steven looked up. "Huh?"
"I mean… we're clearly going to be with each other for a while," Christopher said. "And right now, none of us even know each other's names—except for the guy who nearly got Jack killed."
Jack muttered, "Hey, I said I was sorry."
Rae scoffed. "This again?"
Christopher ignored them and stood. "Look, we just lost everything. Our home. Our families. The least we can do is try to not be complete strangers."
There was a beat of silence before Eva quietly nodded.
"…Fine," said Jack. "But I'm going first, 'cause I already told this guy earlier."
He gestured toward Hugo.
"I'm Jack. I'm nine. I like exploring, and I'm not scared of anything." He puffed out his chest slightly—then muttered, "Most of the time."
"Steven, also nine," said his best friend, giving a small wave. "I wanna be an inventor… like Jacob." His voice dipped at Jacob's name.
"Rae. Ten. I don't like trains, loudmouths, or being ignored." She shot a glare at Jack, then softened. "I… I used to want to be a fashion designer. Still do."
"Eva," came a soft voice. "I'm eight. I like books… and writing stories."
Everyone looked at Christopher, who shrugged and crossed his arms. "Christopher. Eleven. That makes me the oldest. Not that it matters when people don't listen."
"You sound like my grandpa," Jack muttered.
Christopher ignored him.
Then all eyes turned to Hugo.
He didn't speak right away.
Then:"Detective Hugo Arc."
Christopher blinked. "Wait… Hugo?" His eyes widened. "As in… the greatest detective in all of Astear?"
Hugo gave a single nod.
"You're the genius of the bleeding requiem? That's you?" Christopher leaned forward in disbelief. "Jacob told us about you. But we thought he was joking."
Hugo turned back toward the window. "no one can really take him seriously."
Steven's eyes lit up. "Wait, so you're that Hugo? The one who solved the Steamwell Murders? And the Black Key Cipher?"
"Yes."
"Whoa…"
Jack grinned. "Cool."
The children began murmuring among themselves. But Hugo didn't say anything more.
He just watched the rolling hills slip past the window, shadows getting longer. And in the distance, towering through the smog and steel—Flywheel City loomed.
(Part 7 – Rules of the Requiem)
The train pulled into Flywheel City under a hazy bronze sky, its gears hissing as it came to a halt.
The children stepped off the platform and were instantly overwhelmed.
The towering steam towers, gear-driven elevators, and weaving networks of glowing brass pipes hummed with life. Flywheel never slept. It roared with the sound of machines, the shouting of vendors, and the clanking of trains on high rails.
"Whoa…" Jack muttered. "This place is huge."
"It stinks," Rae sniffed. "And everything looks… rusty."
"That's the Smog District," Christopher said. "Lower-class zone. We're not in the fancy sky-bridges."
"Still cooler than Copperpoint," Steven whispered, taking in everything.
They followed Hugo down winding alleys and gear-lined corridors until they reached a plain iron apartment door nestled between a boiler repair shop and a book café. A brass plaque beside it read:
H. Arc – Private Investigations
Hugo unlocked the door, and they stepped inside. The apartment was… strange.
It was clean, but cluttered. A wall of bookshelves lined one side—mystery novels, crime case files, and classic romances. Mechanical parts, rune sockets, and broken gear pieces were piled in the corners. A chessboard sat untouched on the desk, mid-game.
The children looked around. It felt like someone who had built a world to shut the real one out.
Hugo hung his coat and turned to face them.
"There are three rules if you're staying here," he said bluntly.
The children straightened up.
"One: Don't break anything."
Jack looked away innocently.
"Two: Don't set the apartment on fire."
Steven raised his hand, paused, then lowered it.
"Three: Don't go into my room. Ever."
"Not even if it's unlocked?" Rae asked.
"Especially if it's unlocked."
They nodded.
Hugo folded his arms. "Beyond that, I don't care what you do. You're free to leave if you want. I'm not keeping you here. I'm only responsible for giving you a bed and a meal. That's all."
Eva tilted her head. "…You don't care if we stay?"
"I didn't ask for you," Hugo said. "But I gave someone my word. So I'll make sure you don't starve."
Silence fell.
"…You're weird," Jack muttered.
Hugo didn't respond. He turned toward his desk, already focusing on a scattered folder of case notes.
The children looked at one another. Whatever this new life was, it wasn't going to be normal.
But it was a start.
Far from the glowing towers of Flywheel City, Copperpoint Village remained a smoldering ruin. The wind whispered through blackened alleyways and shattered homes, carrying the smell of ash and blood.
In the ruins of the orphanage, the wounded Ash Talon groaned, slowly regaining consciousness. His vision blurred, his body aching from the battle he'd barely survived.
He tried to move—but froze when a sharp voice cut through the air behind him.
"I was told you were one of our best."
The Talon's breath caught. He turned slowly—and there, standing among the scorched remains, was Selene Veyra, her elegant figure draped in a long black coat, twin rapiers at her sides. The moonlight reflected off her crimson eyes and the faint sheen of blood drifting like mist from her fingertips.
"Lady Selene," he rasped. "I—I failed, but I can—"
"You did fail."
A second figure emerged from the shadows behind her. A man, taller, silent, and radiating presence like a blade ready to strike. His coat was lined with silver feathers. His eyes—icy and sharp—looked down with utter disinterest. The runes tattooed across his arms pulsed faintly.
Xander Newgate. The Phantom Blade.
The Talon's fear spiked. He scrambled backward. "I'll do better. I'll finish the job. Just give me another cha—"
Shhhnk.
The sound was almost gentle. Selene's rapier slipped through his throat like thread through silk. His eyes went wide before he slumped to the ground, blood pooling beneath the phoenix mark branded into his chest.
Selene turned away without emotion. "Sloppy work brings only sloppy ends."
Xander said nothing at first. He stepped forward, kneeling briefly beside the corpse. His fingers touched the mark Hugo had left—a single etched rune that disrupted the Talon's abilities. Precision. Efficiency. Cold judgment.
His voice, when it came, was as soft as smoke—yet every syllable carried steel.
"Hugo Arc."
He stood and looked toward the horizon, where Flywheel City's lights glimmered in the distance.
"The gears are turning. The requiem plays louder."
His gear katana gleamed beneath the moonlight.
"Our destined duel will come… soon."