Morning light spilled across the city.
Sunrays filtered through glass buildings and reflected off passing cars. The streets were already alive—vendors calling out, engines humming, footsteps echoing along the pavement.
Another ordinary day.
A little girl skipped along the sidewalk, her small hand wrapped tightly around her mother's fingers. She hummed to herself, unable to contain her excitement.
"Mumma, hurry!" she chirped, tugging at her mother's hand. "I want to see Papa! He's finally back!"
Her mother laughed softly, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.
"Oh, sweetie… calm down," she said gently. "Your papa's flight hasn't even reached the island yet."
The little girl puffed her cheeks in protest but kept walking, her steps light, hopeful.
The world around them moved as usual.
Unaware.
The little girl suddenly stopped walking and tilted her head upward.
A distant roar echoed across the sky.
"Mumma, look! An airplane!" she exclaimed, pointing excitedly. "Papa must be in that one, right?!"
Her mother followed her finger, shading her eyes as she looked up at the bright morning sky. A silver aircraft glided above the city, cutting smoothly through the blue.
She smiled.
"Yes," she said gently. "That must be his flight."
The little girl beamed, her eyes sparkling with certainty.
She waved at the plane, even though it was far too high for anyone to see.
The city continued moving around them.
Cars passed.
People crossed the street.
The sky remained clear.
Nothing seemed wrong.
But then—
The entire city erupted with shrill, blaring alarms.
The cheerful rhythm of morning shattered instantly.
People froze mid-step.
In the center of the city—
Something appeared.
A fracture in the air.
Thin at first.
Unnatural.
Like glass splitting without sound.
Every head turned.
Every face drained of color.
The crack spread.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Panic detonated.
Screams tore through the streets as people ran in every direction, colliding, falling, trampling over one another.
The mother's warm smile vanished.
Fear flooded her eyes.
She looked at her daughter.
Without hesitation, she scooped the little girl into her arms and ran.
As fast as she could.
Away from that thing.
Der Riss.
"M-Mumma!!" the little girl cried, her small fingers clutching her mother's clothes. Her voice trembled as she buried her face against her shoulder, searching for safety in her mother's heartbeat.
Then—
A thunderous burst split the air.
The ground trembled.
The mother's steps faltered.
"What happened, Mumma!?" the child asked, her voice cracking.
Instinct forced them to look back.
From the crack in the sky, a pillar of violent energy erupted upward, tearing through the atmosphere like a spear.
It struck the plane.
The silver aircraft—
Gone.
Vaporized.
In a blink.
No explosion.
No debris.
Just erased.
The sky swallowed the space where it had been.
The mother and daughter stared, frozen.
Tears pooled in their widened eyes.
"PAPA!!!" the little girl screamed.
***
Elara stood at the sink, washing the dishes.
Water ran steadily. The soft clink of ceramic filled the kitchen.
"Huh… I finally gathered the courage to talk to him…" she muttered under her breath.
A disappointed expression crossed her face.
She sighed, heavier this time.
"But that damn Riss ruined everything," she said, frustration slipping into her voice. "Before I could even tell him…"
Her hands slowed.
For a moment, she just stared at the running water.
Then something struck her.
Her eyes widened slightly.
She quickly wiped her hands on a towel and grabbed her phone from the counter.
Her thumbs hovered over the screen.
She typed.
Paused.
Deleted.
Typed again.
"…And sent."
A small, satisfied smirk tugged at her lips.
"Come back home safely, Schwarian…" she whispered to herself.
Her expression softened.
She didn't realize her fingers were still clutching the phone.
Then—
She heard it.
The alarms.
Shrill. Urgent. Echoing across the island.
Elara froze.
The plate slipped slightly in her grip before she caught it.
The sound didn't stop.
It spread.
Through the streets. Through the walls. Through her chest.
Her expression shifted.
The softness vanished.
Worry took its place.
Her fingers tightened around the phone still in her hand.
***
Der Riss stood in the middle of the city.
Smoke swirled around it, thick and choking, still rising from the violent energy that had erupted moments earlier.
The mother collapsed to her knees.
Broken.
She clutched her daughter tightly as she sobbed.
"M-Mumma… look…"
The little girl's voice trembled, fear carved into every syllable as she pointed toward the Riss.
The mother followed her daughter's gaze.
Her breath left her.
A silhouette moved within the smoke.
Tall.
Unnatural.
Then—
Solid, dark spikes shot outward from the smoke.
Fast.
Merciless.
Instinct took over.
The mother twisted, wrapping her body around her daughter, turning herself into a shield.
A wall of flesh and bone.
The impact came a heartbeat later.
She gasped.
Pain tore through her.
She felt warmth spread across her chest.
Blood.
She held on tighter.
Relief flickered in her fading eyes.
I saved her.
She looked down at her daughter.
The little girl's small hands were still clutching her clothes.
The mother coughed.
Blood spilled from her lips.
And then—
Her heart dropped.
One of the spikes had pierced straight through her body.
Through her.
And into her daughter's heart.
The mother trembled.
She tightened her arms around her daughter, even as her strength began to fade.
"My sweet little one…" she whispered.
Her voice was barely there.
Tears slid down her cheeks, mixing with the blood between them.
Her grip loosened.
Her eyes dimmed.
And then—
They went still.