Night had become Earth's permanent crown.
Once, the skies above the city had been filled with aircraft lights, stars barely visible through pollution and ambition. Now the stars burned openly—cold, distant, uncaring—watching a world that had already lost. The city below lay broken, its towers split like ribs of a dead giant. Half-collapsed buildings leaned against one another, frozen in the moment of impact, while entire streets had been swallowed by darkness and debris.
Alien symbols pulsed faintly across the ruins.
They glowed like infected wounds—curved glyphs etched into concrete and steel, alive with an eerie blue light. Every few seconds, the symbols throbbed, sending waves of energy through the dead city, as if Earth itself were being forced to breathe to a foreign rhythm.
Something moved in the shadows.
Tall, twisted silhouettes crawled along walls and ceilings with insect-like ease. Their skin was black as scorched metal, veined with glowing blue lines that pulsed like blood beneath translucent flesh. Their limbs bent at unnatural angles. Their mouths—when they opened—revealed rows of crystalline teeth glowing from within.
Xeythrians.
They had come without warning.
From the black beyond the stars, their fleets had torn through Earth's atmosphere like knives through skin. Cities burned within hours. Oceans boiled. Satellites fell like dying stars. Governments collapsed before they could even name the enemy.
Humanity had not lost a war.
It had been hunted.
"They burned our skies. Poisoned our oceans. Claimed Earth as their hunting ground."
The words echoed like a ghost across the ruined city, carried by the wind through shattered windows and empty streets.
"Humanity became prey."
A figure stood at the edge of a skyscraper rooftop, staring down at the devastation below.
Kairo Renji.
His black suit and tie fluttered softly in the cold night wind, untouched by dust or blood, as if he were an anachronism—something from the old world that refused to die. Beneath the suit, a white shirt caught the glow of broken neon signs, reflecting faint light against the darkness.
Across his back rested a katana.
Its sheath was etched with alien carvings, symbols older than Earth itself. The metal hummed softly, as though alive, responding to the presence of its wielder. Even sheathed, it radiated danger.
Kairo's expression was calm. Too calm for a man standing over a dead world.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handheld scanner. The device flickered to life, projecting a holographic map of the city into the air. Red dots blinked into existence—six of them—clustered far too close together.
Kairo exhaled slowly.
"…Six signatures," he muttered. "Close. Too close."
The scanner beeped again, its tone sharp and insistent.
"Looks like tonight, the hunt doesn't let me rest."
He slipped the device away and adjusted his gloves, fingers brushing the katana's hilt. The moment his skin touched the handle, a faint silver-blue light pulsed beneath the sheath.
Orionite.
A metal forged not on Earth, but from the remains of a fallen star—one of the few materials capable of cutting Xeythrian flesh. Humanity's last fang.
Kairo stepped forward—and jumped.
The wind screamed past him as the ground rushed up in a blur of ruined asphalt and shattered glass. He twisted mid-air, landing lightly despite the height, knees bending to absorb the impact. The moment his boots touched the street, the silence shattered.
Alien shrieks echoed from the darkness.
They came fast.
Xeythrians burst from alleys and broken buildings, claws scraping against concrete as they charged. Their movements were erratic, inhuman—too fast, too sharp. Blue light flared along their veins as they closed in, mouths opening wide.
One of them screamed, its voice splitting the air.
"Hu-MAN!"
Kairo's eyes narrowed.
"Wrong prey."
The katana flashed.
In a single fluid motion, he drew the blade. The Orionite edge ignited with silver-blue light, humming as it sliced through the night. Kairo moved faster than the human eye could follow—his body a blur, his strikes precise and merciless.
One slash.
An alien's head split cleanly apart, its body collapsing before it even realized it was dead.
Two gunshots rang out—sharp, controlled. Another pair of Xeythrians dropped, blue ichor splattering across the pavement and sizzling as it burned into the ground.
Kairo didn't stop.
He pivoted, ducked beneath a clawed swipe, and drove the blade upward through a creature's chest. The alien convulsed, screeching as its body dissolved into black mist.
The fight lasted seconds.
Then silence returned.
The corpses didn't remain. They never did. One by one, the fallen Xeythrians dissolved completely, leaving behind faint glowing trails that drifted upward like dying embers.
Kairo stood alone in the street, breathing steady.
He wiped the blade clean with a practiced motion and slid it back into its sheath.
"…Too easy," he said quietly.
The scanner beeped again.
This time, the signal was different.
Stronger. Denser. Pulsing violently, like a heartbeat.
A nest leader.
Kairo's gaze lifted toward the deeper parts of the city, where the darkness seemed thicker, heavier—almost alive.
"…Which means someone's pulling the strings."
Far beneath the ruined streets, deep underground, a hidden facility buzzed with quiet energy.
The Hunter's Headquarters.
Glowing screens lined the walls, displaying city maps, energy signatures, and alien movement patterns in real time. Blue and red lights flickered across the room, painting everything in a sterile glow.
At the center stood Dr. Aris Veylan.
Young, sharp-eyed, his glasses reflecting streams of data as his fingers danced across a holographic interface. Unlike the soldiers and hunters who filled the base, Aris wore no armor—only a lab coat and the weight of knowledge.
His calm demeanor cracked when one signal spiked violently on the display.
"…So it begins," he whispered.
He zoomed in on the reading. The energy output was massive—far beyond standard Xeythrian units.
His jaw tightened.
"Kairo," Aris said softly, though he knew the words wouldn't reach him. "Don't go in alone this time."
Aboveground, Kairo walked deeper into the city.
Each step echoed against the empty streets, the sound swallowed by the ruins. The glowing symbols on the buildings pulsed faster as he moved, reacting to his presence—or to what lay ahead.
The air grew heavy.
From the darkness, something massive shifted.
A silhouette emerged—taller than the others, its body armored with jagged plating that reflected faint light. Crimson eyes burned within its skull-like face, locked onto Kairo with unmistakable intelligence.
A sub-leader.
It straightened to its full height, towering over him, and released a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the street.
Kairo tightened his grip on the katana.
"…Finally," he said, a thin smile forming. "A real fight."
The alien stepped forward.
The city held its breath.
And somewhere far above, the stars watched in silence as the war for Earth continued.