The pain came late.
Not during the mark.Not during the silence.
It arrived after—quietly, patiently—like a debt the body had waited to collect.
Kaito barely made it three blocks before his vision blurred.
He stumbled, catching himself against a wall as a sharp pulse tore through his skull, radiating from the scar over his left eye. The burn wasn't violent.
It was deep.
Jun grabbed his shoulder instantly.
— Kaito— hey—!
Kaito shook his head, teeth clenched.
— I'm fine.
Ryuji didn't buy it.
— You narrowed something that shouldn't be narrowed, he said.— That kind of control always costs.
Haneul watched Kaito closely, chain tight around their forearm.
— Your mark…, they said.— It didn't disappear.— It withdrew.
Kaito exhaled slowly, forcing his breathing steady.
— It's not meant to stay, he said.— Just long enough.
They reached a narrow intersection—abandoned shops, shuttered windows, long lines of sight down each street. The city felt empty here, stripped of witnesses.
Too empty.
Ryuji stopped abruptly.
— We're exposed.
Jun frowned.
— What do you—
The sound came first.
A dry crack—sharp, precise.
The wall behind Jun exploded in a burst of concrete and dust.
— DOWN! Ryuji roared.
Jun hit the ground as a second shot tore through the air, shaving a chunk off the corner of a streetlight.
Not energy.
Not distortion.
Ballistics.
Kaito's heart slammed once.
— Sniper…, Jun breathed.
Another crack.
This one aimed for Kaito.
The moment stretched.
Kaito stepped forward on instinct—
The pain behind his left eye flared violently.
His mark didn't answer.
Ryuji moved instead.
Steel flashed.
Kizuna-no-Kiri cut the air.
The projectile didn't shatter.
It veered—its trajectory severed mid-flight—slamming harmlessly into the asphalt.
Ryuji slid back, boots scraping.
— Long-range shooter, he snapped.— High ground.
Haneul's chain rattled.
— That wasn't normal ammo…, they said.— It was anchored.
Another shot.
Closer.
Jun crawled behind cover, heart hammering.
— Whoever this is— they're not panicking!
Ryuji snarled.
— Because they're not afraid of him.
That hit harder than the bullet.
Kaito pressed his palm against the wall, breathing hard.
The silence from earlier wouldn't come back.
His body refused.
— I can't place another mark yet…, he muttered.
— Then don't, Ryuji said.— This one's watching.
As if summoned by the words, a calm voice echoed faintly from above.
— Correct.
Everyone froze.
The voice was distant, carried by some kind of amplifier—steady, unhurried.
— Don't move.— I'm not here to kill you.— Yet.
Jun swallowed.
— That's reassuring.
Another shot cracked—but this one wasn't aimed at them.
It struck the pavement between Kaito and Ryuji.
The ground rang.
A thin metallic spike embedded itself in the asphalt, humming softly.
Haneul stiffened.
— That's… a tether round.
The hum intensified.
Lines of faint light traced outward from the spike, forming a targeting lattice that locked onto Kaito.
The pressure returned.
Not from the world.
From attention.
— You erased continuity, the voice said calmly.— You didn't overwrite physics.
Kaito looked up, eyes narrowing.
— Show yourself.
A pause.
Then a figure stepped into view atop a distant rooftop.
Tall.Still.Silhouette broken by a long rifle resting against their shoulder.
The weapon was wrong.
Too sleek.Too deliberate.
Runes faintly glowed along its barrel, shifting with each breath the figure took.
— Name's not important, the sniper said.— But you can call this a calibration test.
Ryuji raised his blade slightly.
— You're not Association standard.
— No, the sniper replied.— I don't like their methods.
Another shot rang out.
This one curved mid-air.
Haneul shouted.
— It's bending trajectory—!
Kaito moved.
Not forward.
Sideways.
He dragged his foot across the ground.
Not enough to form a mark.
Just enough to scratch one.
The air rippled faintly.
The bullet grazed the distortion and shattered, fragments raining harmlessly down.
The sniper chuckled softly.
— Interesting…, they murmured.— You don't need the full imprint.
Jun stared.
— You're learning already?!
Kaito ignored him, eyes locked on the figure above.
— You're testing my limits, Kaito said.
— Yes, the sniper replied simply.— Because someone needs to know them.
The targeting lattice flickered.
The tether spike cracked.
The sniper lowered the rifle slightly.
— You can't sustain that yet, they said.— And I don't want to be the one who breaks you too early.
They stepped back.
— We'll meet again.
— Why? Jun shouted.
The sniper paused.
— Because if you keep erasing systems…, they said,— someone needs to be able to hit you from a distance.
Then they were gone.
No dramatic exit.
Just absence.
The pressure lifted.
Silence returned.
Jun lay flat on the pavement, breathing hard.
— I hate ranged enemies.
Ryuji exhaled slowly, blade lowering.
— That wasn't a hunter.— That was a scout.
Haneul looked at Kaito.
— They weren't afraid of you.
Kaito touched the scar over his left eye.
It burned faintly.
— Not yet, he said.— But they will be.
Far away, the sniper adjusted their rifle, watching the city recede.
— Zero Mark…, they murmured.— If that spreads…
They smiled faintly.
— I'll need a clearer shot next time.