Outside Aurelia International airport
On the rooftop of one of the high-rise buildings closest to the airport, a figure stood still. A man. He was draped in a black leather trench coat, long black hair blowing into the wind.
His eyes were locked on the S-rank dungeon rift. Even from this distance, the aether energy it released was enough to make his skin tingle with excitement.
"An S-rank Rift," he murmured, a small smirk playing on his mouth. "It's been a while since I heard of one of those. In a city nonetheless."
An outsider viewing him would probably be mesmerised by the handsome features of this man. And also horrified by the apparitions hovering around him.
His shadow elongated behind him, ghastly whispers trailing out of it. His fists clenched, a move to contain his erratic powers. "Patience," he mumbled. "We'll get answers soon enough."
He could sense it.
The exhilarating surge of death and blood which emanated out of the shimmering white rift like a black miasma. One that only he could see.
As expected, the dungeon was already claiming souls. Ripe for picking.
Suddenly, the twirling rift came to a halt. The Hunters gathered at the airport's entrance all turned their heads to the white tear in spacetime.
"It… stopped spinning." Someone pointed out.
"Does that mean they—?"
Most questions were answered when some figures began trooping out of the Rift. First were the S-rank Espers of Phoenix Flight and Glacier Talon.
They had no formation, seeming like a bunch of sardines who'd gone too close to the sun and gotten burnt. The most peculiar among them—Devon Ferguson—appeared disturbed.
"Did they defeat the dungeon boss?" The mysterious man questioned himself, head tilting.
One by one, the Guides followed behind the S ranks—A-rank Espers sticking close behind them in turn. As the last of the Hunters walked out of the dungeon, the Rift pulsed.
A blinding white light thrummed like a heartbeat. Stuttered. Then the rift began shrinking, the aether energy it released fading alongside it.
In the next few seconds, the Rift closed completely, much faster than normal Rifts which stay open for at least thirty minutes after the boss is defeated.
Or did these hunters get held up inside for too long before finding their way out?
"How sad." The mysterious man sniggered. "The resources from an S-rank raid would've been useful to the Hunters Federation."
Too bad.
A few dead bodies were carried alongside the team. Some were incomplete, missing arms, legs, or unrecognisable altogether. The mysterious man took in a long whiff, sighing with satisfaction at the stench.
He might not have been able to reap any souls today but at least that soothing scent of death was enough to keep his mind sharp.
Just when he was about to leave… he paused, noticing something.
"What's this?"
Someone amongst the Hunters had an aura that made his brows furrow.
The same aura he got from dead bodies.
Yet oddly alive.
When his eyes swept past every head in the team, he soon found the person responsible for that confusing aura. It was a Guide.
Blonde hair. Silver eyes that glinted under sunlight. Beautiful features that were in no way marred by the exhaustion clinging to him.
For the first time since he got here, the mysterious man took off his sunglasses. "Who is this?" He mumbled. "The energy signature tells me he's a guide. C or D rank at best. So—what is up with this aura?"
The aura this young man carried should only be found in two different types of bodies. His attunement to death made him know that.
First… someone who was killed and came back as an undead. But he clearly looked like no zombie so that brought up one more option—
—A necromancer who somehow found a way to transfer his soul to another body.
The eyes of the mysterious man glowed with a blood-red light, his smirk widening. "A necromancer like that… carrying the aura of a guide? No—he probably had another powerful Esper do it for him."
Which meant he had a new 'friend' to make.
Necromancy or death-type Espers were a rarity on this planet. Talk less of one capable of such a powerful feat.
So—
Time for a little hunt.
★★★★★
Phoenix Flight HQ
After navigating past the crowd of reporters waiting for their team and giving a few reports of what happened to officials of the United States Hunters Federation—Ambrose was exhausted.
The team lingered in the lobby, its glass walls letting him see the reporters still waiting for them. Many shouted questions while waving their mics as if those were supposed to attract them.
'Aura?' Ambrose reached out mentally. 'Can you show me the stats on Devon's attraction points now?'
As the system loaded a screen before him, he turned slowly, eyes sweeping across the lobby. Devon stood with other S-ranks, comforting families of the dead. Or at least, trying to.
Since the Rift had been closed, the evacuated parts of the city were getting filled again. Large screen TVs around the lobby showed live breaking news.
Already praising the Phoenix Flight and Glacier Talon Guilds as heroes—pictures of their faces presented as well.
[Loading complete.]
[Devon's attraction points: 30.]
Ambrose's eyes widened.
Just like he suspected, the creation of the permanent guiding link was all sorts of intimate. Physical contact. Sharing of emotions. It was only expected that Devon would get more drawn to him.
Meanwhile, as a smirk curved his lips, Devon watched him from across the lobby. He just finished giving the mother of one of the A-ranks the clothes and weapons he left behind. Plus a book.
She tried forcing a smile as she collected the items but Devon saw. The way light drained from her eyes. The way her shoulders dropped as if the world had shattered beneath her feet.
This was one of the hardest parts of being a Hunter. Surviving and then having to face the loved ones of those who couldn't.
"Hey," Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. "For what it's worth… I'm glad that you're alive. You scared me for a second when you fell off the sky like that."
Devon glanced over his shoulder.
Rivals or not—before that rivalry they'd both been really close. Friends. At a point something more…
If the roles were reversed Devon would've been worried too.
"Well, as you can see, I'm fine," he kept his expression neutral, although his voice held a hint of gratitude. "Thanks for all you did. If it weren't for your presence, our combined teams—"
"Ugh, please don't make it sappy, Ferguson." Viktor gave a short laugh, his accent slipping. "I'm just glad you're alive. Let's leave it at that."
Devon clicked his tongue.
He won't have it any other way.
When Viktor left his side at last, Devon brought his gaze back to where Ambrose was supposed to be. To his surprise and frustration, the guy was no longer there.
He took a step subconsciously, trying to find him. But then someone stepped into his way.
Guide Han.
"Devon," the other man wrapped his arms around his shoulders, a small smirk on his face. "We finally have some time to ourselves. Why don't we go upstairs so I can guide you? And…"
Bringing his mouth close to his ear, he added in a low voice. "... Celebrate as well."
Celebrate.
He knew exactly what Han meant by 'celebrate'.
And unfortunately—
"I'm not in the mood for any of that," he grabbed his wrists, taking his hands off him. "Thanks, Guide Han."
Han's smile shifted at the formal tone he used.
As Devon slipped away from him, Han's eyes dimmed. "I thought I was imagining things but his aether energy feels… stable. Too stable."
Almost as if he'd gotten guided by someone else already.
But that's not possible.
No other Guide from either team would dare do that when they knew Han's relationship with him. Besides, he had his attention on him for most of the mission's duration.
The only Guide who went close to Devon was…
"Ambrose?" He remembered the scene of them walking out of that crater. He didn't read much into it at first. But now? "It's impossible. Even if he managed to guide Devon somehow, he would be comatose."
Han's eyes darkened. Before he could step forward—
A chill swept through the lobby.
Subtle. And then gone in a second.
Devon stiffened on his way to an elevator.
Ambrose paused mid-step somewhere down the hallways upstairs.
And miles away, on a rooftop overlooking the city, crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
"Found you."