Velrith never truly slept. Even with curfews, with Rift scars splitting its skyline, with hunters patrolling every district, the city pulsed with restless energy. Newsfeeds glowed on holo-screens above crowded intersections, broadcasting mission reports, agency updates, and endless speculation about the lives of the hunters who held the world together.
Tonight, Astraeus Dominion and Vanguard Edge dominated the airwaves.
Perspective: The Citizens
"Did you see that strike?" a young man shouted over the din of a crowded bar in the lower market district. A replay flickered across a holographic screen, showing Kael Ryven's gauntlets detonating into golden fire as Rift spawn dissolved into ash.
The crowd cheered. "Kael's unstoppable! Vanguard Edge for number one, I'm telling you!"
Another voice cut through, scoffing. "Please. Did you not see Lucien Rael? The man didn't even break a sweat. Shadows like a blade — clean, perfect. Astraeus will always be top."
Arguments flared across the room, fans divided into factions, waving digital banners of their favorite agencies. For the ordinary citizens of Velrith, hunters weren't just protectors. They were idols. Symbols. Entertainment.
But in the shadows of the bar, a middle-aged woman shook her head. "They cheer like it's a sport," she murmured. "But it's our lives on the line." Her husband squeezed her hand, silent. They had lost their home in the last Rift expansion. No amount of cheering would bring it back.
Perspective: Vanguard Edge
The Vanguard compound buzzed with energy. Their headquarters wasn't as pristine as Astraeus's, but it had life — warmth, energy, a pulse of camaraderie.
Kael Ryven leaned against the edge of a briefing table, sweat still clinging to his neck, golden eyes catching the dim light. His teammates sprawled around him, exhausted but wired with adrenaline.
"That shadow prince really gets under my skin," Kael muttered, half to himself, half to the team.
Eira raised a brow, smirking. "Under your skin, or into your head?"
Riven chuckled from where he sat cleaning his bow. "Maybe both. You were practically dancing with him out there."
Kael shot them a glare, but the faintest heat colored his ears. "We were surrounded. Synchronization was necessary. That's all."
Maelis grinned, leaning back in her chair. "Sure. Necessary. Just admit it — you like the challenge. You like him pushing you."
Kael's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. He thought back to the moment Lucien's shadows intercepted the mutated spawn's claws, the cold silver eyes that had met his with terrifying control. For one heartbeat, Kael had felt seen — not just as a rival, but as something more. He quickly shoved the thought aside.
"Don't get used to it," he muttered. "Next time, I won't need saving."
Perspective: Astraeus Dominion
The Astraeus headquarters was the opposite of Vanguard's — sleek, disciplined, built to command respect. Silence hung in the debriefing chamber, only the hum of holo-screens breaking the stillness.
Lucien stood apart from his team, cloak draped neatly over his shoulders, his gaze fixed on the mission replay projected on the wall.
For the briefest moment in that footage, the shadows around him had flared unnaturally — heavier, darker, more monstrous than usual. No one else seemed to notice. But Lucien saw.
Too close. Control slipped.
"Efficient," Seraphine reported coolly, flipping through her chrono-data. "Civilian casualties: zero. Anomaly contained. Mission success."
Caius smirked faintly from the corner. "And we made Vanguard look sloppy in the process. Always a bonus."
Orin frowned. "We should be cautious. These anomalies are growing less stable. The classifications don't hold as well as they used to."
Lucien turned from the screen, his voice quiet but firm. "Agreed. Prepare for escalation. And…" He paused, just for a moment, remembering the fleeting synchronization with Kael in the square. His jaw tightened. "Do not underestimate our rivals. They are more dangerous than they appear."
Perspective: The Media
By morning, every screen in Velrith replayed the battle footage. Commentators dissected each move, comparing Astraeus's precision with Vanguard's explosive improvisation.
"The rivalry burns hotter than ever," one host announced brightly. "Who will rise to claim the number one spot? Is Vanguard finally closing the gap?"
Another countered, "Lucien Rael is flawless. Vanguard thrives on chaos, but perfection doesn't lose."
Clips of Kael and Lucien fighting back-to-back played in endless loops, fans analyzing every glance, every synchronized strike. In forums, theories spread like wildfire. Do they hate each other? Do they secretly admire each other? Is there more behind those looks?
The world was watching.
Perspective: The Whisper
Far from the noise of fans and media, in the depths of Velrith's forgotten ruins, a whisper stirred. Ancient, guttural, laced with hunger.
My son… you are slipping. The shadows grow restless. The seal weakens.
The Rift pulsed faintly in response, as if answering the voice buried deep within it.