The night was cold, though not harsh.
A thin veil of haze drifted lazily through the air, settling over the polished stone buildings.
Moonlight stretched long across the cobblestone street, broken by lanterns glowing faintly at the corners.
"Are you ready champ? Tonight is going to be fire." Luck said, his voice hanging in the cold air.
No reply followed — at least not one that could be heard.
...
"Yeah… that's what I thought. They never stood a chance."
Luck's gaze drifted across the street, where a bronze contraption stood with a glass front revealing rows of bottles and cans.
"Want something to drink?"
...
"So you already drank water? There's more to life than basic needs my friend."
"Still, that's fine — at least I get to save some coin."
Luck crossed the street and slipped a coin into the slot. The contraption glowed faintly, then dropped a can into the tray with a dull clunk.
He cracked it open — pshhht — and took a deep gulp, the fizz biting cold down his throat.
"Sheeaaah…" Luck exhaled, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
"They can make just about anything out of these energy cores — always finding new ways to take my money."
Luck leaned back against the cold stone wall, the half-empty can still in hand. His eyes lifted to the horizon, where the outline of the Umbra Tower rose at the city's edge, piercing the sky.
It was visible only because its stone was darker than the night itself, as if it drank every trace of light.
The tower loomed above, looking down on the city with silent disdain.
Luck drew in a long breath and let it out slowly, as the sight of the tower stirred thoughts reminding him of the responsibilities he had been trying to escape.
Just then, a commotion broke the stillness, catching his attention in a nearby alley.
***
Above the rooftops, a hooded woman dashed from one building to the next, her hurried, uneven leaps betraying a desperate flight.
Suddenly, an all-black suited man dropped into her path, forcing it to skid back on the tiles. With no choice, it veered sharply, changing direction into the maze of rooftops.
How are they managing to cut me off? …It's like they already know where I'll be.
The chase twisted through the rooftops until, at last, she landed on a broader stretch of tiles.
But as her boots scraped against the slates, the men were already closing in from every side.
She spun around in desperation, only to see more of them stepping onto the very roof she had leapt from moments earlier.
Every escape was cut off.
With no time to think, she was left with only one option: to jump into the gap in front of her.
Her body plunged downward, cloak whipping around her as the buildings rushed past.
She struck the ground softly despite the height, knees bending to absorb the impact as a scatter of dust burst at her feet.
A faint green glow shimmered across her boots, fading as quickly as it came.
Without hesitation, she darted through the darkness of the narrow alley, racing toward the street beyond.
But just as she was about to break out into the open, two suited men stepped into her path again, blocking the exit.
She skidded to a halt, breath sharp, only to hear footsteps closing in from behind.
Turning her head, there were more of them advancing, sealing the alley at both ends.
Tsk, annoying bastards.
A deep sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, forcing stillness into her breath.
"Don't even think about doing that," one of the men said.
Suddenly, a crushing weight fell upon her — invisible yet suffocating.
Her knees buckled, her chest slammed against the cold stone, and in an instant she was pinned flat to the ground.
She couldn't lift her head, but through the corner of her vision she caught the polished shoes closing in from the front.
From the echoing steps behind, she knew more were advancing as well.
"Enough running, slippery rat," one of the men growled.
"It ends here. Hand it over."
"Hand what over?" she snapped, dripping with disdain. "I'm just a poor girl out at night… looks more like you're the criminals here."
"You like to drag women into dark alleys?"
One of the men snarled, fists clenching. "She's screwing with us."
Another stepped closer, his voice low and sharp. "Enough foolishness. You don't hand it over, we'll take it by force."
Stuck on the ground, she let out a laugh that was half-breathless, half-mocking.
"By force, huh? The way you say that… makes it sound like I should be worried about more than just my pockets."
Her smile curled thin. "You really don't make a girl feel safe."
The man didn't flicker. "Search her body."
"Alright, alright… let's not make this into a bigger misunderstanding. No need to get handsy just yet. I'm more of a 'let things happen naturally' kind of girl, if you behave, I might even consider going on a little date."
"How about you let me up? I'll even help you look for whatever it is."
...
Then a rough and uncertain voice broke the silence.
"… What the hell is that thing?"
She saw the shoes that had been blocking the way shift, heels scraping as they turned around.
For the first time, their attention wasn't on her.
"Hey, boy… take that thing and get the hell out of here. Now. This ain't your business."
"Tsk, tsk…" A dry sound of disapproval cut through the alley. "…That's no way to treat a girl."
"Hey, hey, stop—get away!" a fearful voice rang out.
A violent crash followed, stone cracking as something was hurled against the wall.
In that instant, the weight crushing her vanished.
She gasped, drawing her first full breath in what felt like forever. What… what's happening?
Her arms trembled as she pressed against the stone, struggling to lift herself.
Bit by bit, her body obeyed, until she managed to get on all fours, knees scraping against the cold ground.
That's when she saw them — a pair of bestial paws arched backward, claws biting into the stone, fur shimmering a deep crimson under the pale light.
Her body froze. A shiver raced down her spine, every instinct screaming danger. She didn't dare raise her head — fear pinned her in place just as much as the weight had moments before.
The two who had stood before her were already gone, cast aside like broken dolls, and the rest faltered around her.
She caught ragged breaths, steps sliding against stone, and scattered voices straining to muster order out of fear:
"Damn it—don't back off!"
"He's only one, we can bring him down!"
"Stick together, we've got the numbers…"
Then she noticed—the legs of the crimson beast before her had vanished.
She hadn't seen where they went.
But then a thunderous crash erupted from the ground behind.
It gave her the answer.
Shouts and screams followed, the alley exploding with chaos as the beast plowed through the men like a storm given flesh.
Amid the chaos, another sound reached her — footsteps. Calm. Steady. Coming from the front.
"Are you alright?" the guy's voice asked, calm yet firm. A hand reached down toward her, steady and unassuming, helping her rise from the cold stone.
As she pushed herself up with his help, her legs trembled.
The moment she stood, a sharp weakness shot through one of them, forcing her to stumble.
She leaned into him for balance, her voice low and bitter. "I… I don't know. Am I?"
He let out a short laugh. "Oh, Red? Don't worry about him. He's a good boy… just gets a little nervous when he sees this kind of stuff."
"Here. You're limping — I'll help you get out of here."
With no room to argue, she let her weight rest against him, one arm hooked over his shoulder for support.
Step by step, they moved together through the narrow alley, her limp forcing their pace into a slow, uneven rhythm.
The shadows gave way at last, and the glow of lanterns spilled over them as they emerged toward the open street.
Only then, under the light, did their eyes finally meet — for the first time, they could truly see one another.
They were close — closer than they expected.
From her vantage, she finally caught the details of the boy beside her:
Intense emerald eyes that cut through the haze, framed by brown hair falling loosely over a red bandana tied messy across his forehead.
He was tall, his posture steady, his skin fair but not pale — carrying a healthy warmth, a faint rosy tone that spoke of vigor and life.
The fine lines of his face, sharpened by muscle and a lean build, stood out cleared by the lantern glow.
In that same moment, from his side, the sight was even more striking.
The girl leaning against him had skin of deep ebony, smooth and flawless under the light.
Her proud bearing lent her an air of untouchable grace.
Voluminous, long curls cascaded around her face, each strand catching the glow with a subtle sheen.
Her features were perfectly symmetrical, finely drawn, and her eyes — twin amethysts, gleaming like portals to another world.
It was as if the mother of night herself had descended upon the mortal world.