"Oh, our little baby doll Hana, come. Play with your friends, they've been waiting for you."
Little Hana smiled, scribbling in her coloring book. "Yes, Mama!"
She ran to join her friends, playing tag and laughing as if she hadn't a single care in the world. Life... life is a work of art, she thought. There were colors, free lines, and shapes she had never seen before. Some were saturated, some had volume, and some were so perfect they were worthy of being called masterpieces.
Life is an art museum with a free simulation. What could possibly go wrong?
To her, people were dolls. They always showed a facade, a bright smile even when tired. But her friends were different. They smiled because they were happy to be with her. They loved her. She was loved.
Then, the rain started to pour. Hana felt the light droplets on her face. She looked at her friends, but their faces were melting. Their happy expressions faded like wet ink.
But then again, even the most peaceful masterpiece can be ruined by a single storm.
"Hana, dear. Take care of yourself," her mother's voice whispered from behind, holding an umbrella over her. "Look at them. They aren't really happy with you. It's a painting. Look at your hands, dear."
Little Hana looked down. Paintbrushes and acrylics covered her skin.
"It was you who painted their faces, Hana. You wanted them to be happy, so you made them happy yourself. You wanted to be loved, and there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with painting a dark world with your colors just so everyone can see the sun. But don't let yourself lose your colors, too. Save some love for yourself. If you run out of paint, how will you color them? You cannot give what you don't have, and that includes what you've lost."
"Mama?"
"Don't let yourself get soaked in the rain. Protect yourself, because not everyone will hold an umbrella for you. Not even Mama... because I won't be with you forever."
The world turned pitch black. Thunder clapped with a terrifying roar. The dolls became faceless scribbles of black ink with eyes of red, glowing rage. They targeted little Hana, throwing rocks and lunging at her. The colors of her world melted away, replaced by a thick, suffocating darkness.
Her hands, once bright with paint, were now stained with dark ink as thick as blood, dripping as if she had just committed a murder.
"W-what's going on?"
Her father appeared by her side, his hand gentle on her shoulder. "Shh. It's not your fault, Hana. You're safe. Just trust Mama and Papa, okay?"
She looked ahead. In the distance, her adoptive family stood. They were scribbles of black ink doodled into the forms of pigs. One looked like a swine in an alligator suit, staring at her with those same glowing red eyes.
"Don't worry, Hana. You won't be hurt anymore," her parents whispered, hugging her.
Then Hana noticed something. Someone was still holding the umbrella. If both her parents were hugging her, who was holding it? She looked up and saw silver feathers falling from the sky. A silhouette stood against the faint light of a distant sun, shielding her from the storm.
"Hey there, little Hana. Don't be afraid, okay? You're safe here."
The silhouette leaned down. "I'll protect you."
Hana woke up, a cold sweat covering her forehead. A nightmare? No... just a strange dream. A very strange dream.
She glanced toward the door. Night was standing there, her expression blank, but her eyes were screaming with concern.
"Does the Article also include you watching me while I sleep?" Hana asked dryly.
Night blinked. "Hmm? Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to. Lunx asked me to wake you up, but I guess you beat me to it. I was just waiting for you to come to your senses before telling you food is ready. So... yep. Food is ready." Night offered a sheepish grin.
"I'll be there in a minute," Hana sighed.
"Sure sure, take your time. Oh, wait, don't take too much time, or the food will get cold. That's all!"
Night closed the door, her bright smile instantly dropping into a look of cold concern. That was the right thing to do, she thought. How could I tell her I caught her having a nightmare? She was crying in her sleep and breathing heavily. Of course I'd keep a close eye on her.
Night walked over to the table where Lunx was organizing the scroll and the tea.
"Well? Did the sleeping doll wake up, or did you have to deploy the celestial alarm?" Lunx asked, sensing the shift in Night's demeanor.
"She's awake," Night said, grabbing her coffee and avoiding Lunx's eyes. "She's coming out. The dream—whatever it was—is her secret to keep."
"Good. The soup is getting cold," Lunx said. "You look like you've been running through another building collapse, Soldier. What did you see?"
Night lowered her voice. "I saw a threat I didn't anticipate. Lunx, her family are the Swines. She called them Black Storks who eat their own. We're not just fighting a criminal enterprise; we're fighting a nest of predators she was raised by. My rules have to reflect that danger."
The door opened. Hana walked out, pale but calm, the crimson bracelet vivid against her skin. She walked straight to the table, ignoring the soup.
"If the mission is to dismantle my father and my three brothers—the Swines and the other Black Cards—we need a surgical plan," Hana said, her eyes cold and calculating. "Who is the weakest link in the Monschein Dynasty? We start with the one who is easiest to 'preserve.'"
The middle child, Hana thought. Why am I not surprised?
"That would be Matthew Monschein," Lunx said, sliding a file toward Night. "He runs the logistics. But he's also the most guarded."
Night picked up the file, her concern for Hana hardening into mission focus. "Then we start with the one who makes the most noise. We need to cut the throat of the loudest pig first."
"We start tomorrow night," Lunx added, "when the Blood Moon glows."
"Are we going to kill him immediately?" Hana asked.
"We don't have to," Lunx replied. "We need information first. Squeeze it out of him."
"I'll do the killing," Night muttered.
Lunx slammed her hand on the table, her purple eyes flashing. "Night! We are not killing anyone! Remember, this is exactly why you got suspended. We just make sure he can't get away after he talks. Disabling is the goal, not termination."
Night sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Right. Disabling. I will execute the action, but I must not terminate. Understood."
"Disabling is acceptable," Hana said with a slight, cold smile. "Provided the disability is permanent and prevents any further management of the Swines' logistics. We need to cut off the supply chain."
"A surgical approach," Night nodded. "Lunx, what does the file say about Matthew's patterns?"
"Matthew is a creature of habit," Lunx explained. "Every Tuesday and Friday at midnight, he visits his private vault beneath the old Monschein Clocktower. It's heavily fortified, but he only trusts one man—his bodyguard, a mortal named Cain—to accompany him."
Hana's eyes narrowed. "The Clocktower. I know that place. It's built on a nexus of corrupted ley lines. Good luck with your limited angelic powers, Night."
"My powers are restricted, but my purpose is not," Night replied, picking up her coffee. "Matthew Monschein is our first step into the light. Now, let's talk about the logistics of keeping a killer within a fifty-meter perimeter for an entire night."
The Briefing: Phase I
"I assume the bureaucratic process is finished, and we can move to the surgical phase," Hana said calmly.
Lunx adjusted her glasses, tapping a tablet. "The plan is finalized. And yes, an Angel's transformation takes a minute. It's not easy to suppress a celestial body into a working mortal form."
Night stood nearby, dressed in fitted dark tactical gear. Her height made the look even more intimidating. "The human form is a cage, but cages are effective. We run the plan now."
"Begin," Hana commanded.
"Target: Matthew Monschein," Night said. "Logistics head. Midnight tomorrow, during the Blood Moon. He enters the Clocktower vault with Cain."
"I will create a three-minute electromagnetic disruption on the external perimeter," Lunx said, pointing to a schematic. "Targeting the main security grid. That's your window, Night. Once it closes, the alarms sound."
"The vault entrance is vulnerable through the ventilation access on the north wall," Hana noted, leaning over the plans. "Three levels down. It's too small for a guard, but your human form can manage it. That shaft runs directly into the observation alcove."
"My objective is to be inside the vault the moment they enter," Night said. "I will isolate them before they can trigger the defense, adhering to Article Three—minimal power use."
"With you reciting every article, you're starting to sound like a lawyer," Lunx teased.
"Just so I don't forget," Night replied.
Phase II: Interrogation and Preservation
"My target is information," Hana said. "The locations of the trafficking warehouses and the supplier of the aphrodisiacs. Not money. Not revenge. Logistics."
"My target is Cain, the bodyguard," Night added. "He will be disabled with a precise strike to the temporal nerve. He'll be unconscious for six hours. Non-lethal, Lunx."
"Confirmed," Lunx said. "No scythe. Human-level force only."
"Once Cain is down, I incapacitate Matthew with a motor-lock pressure point strike," Night continued. "He will be conscious, immobile, and terrified. Then, you step in, Hana."
"I will use his fear of preservation to ensure he talks," Hana said. "Once the information is verified, the final stage is his disabling."
Night looked at the scroll. "The final preservation will be a non-reversible strike to his executive memory function. He lives, but the Swine is permanently silenced and docile. He becomes a clean slate. My hands will be clean of termination, but the corruption is cut off."
"A fate worse than death for a creature of greed and libido," Hana said with cold satisfaction. Pigs like that don't deserve to be preserved in the first place.
"Then we move," Night said. "Lunx, prep the gear. Hana, you stay within the Perimeter of Essence starting now. We leave at 11:30 PM tomorrow."