16 YEARS LATER...
Somewhere in Assam, India
On a dark, moonlit night, Wilson adjusted his gloves, eyes scanning the deserted alleyway.
Akira stood beside him, leaning casually against a lamppost, both cloaked in the soft, flickering glow of distant streetlights.
"Is the divorce circus still in town?" Akira asked, tone light but eyes watchful.
Wilson exhaled sharply. "Final hearing's next week. But I got custody of Lilia. That's what matters."
Akira nodded, his voice quieter. "It's good she's out of it. Her mom—Kylie... she wasn't right."
Wilson's jaw clenched. "She was abusive. Not always loud about it, but… cruel in quiet ways. Especially when I wasn't home."
He paused, eyes darkening. "Lilia never talked much about it, but I could see it. The way she flinched. The way she stopped smiling."
Akira looked over. "Then why are you still doing this work? It's dangerous, and she needs you more than we do."
"This is my last mission. Not because I'm done fighting—but because she needs a father more than the world needs another fighter."
"I'm getting custody. I promised her I'd come home… and this time, I will." Wilson said with a weak grin. "One last run."
Before Akira could reply, their transceivers crackled out loud.
#Wilson, Akira—she's headed your way. Alley down the street.#
Both men snapped into motion. Wilson drew his blade; Akira readied his electrified hooks.
"Here she comes..." Akira muttered, sparking spear ready.
A silhouette appeared in the fog.
Then another.
Then two more.
Soon became four.
They froze—until the shapes sharpened into familiar uniforms.
It was the Search Squad, not the girl.
"Where the hell is she?" Aron snarled, eye flashing unnaturally.
Aron.
His presence sucked the warmth from the air.
Akira didn't flinch. "Didn't see no one. Maybe your team's chasing shadows."
Wrong thing to say.
Aron stepped in close. "You think I'm joking? You think this is a GAME?"
Wilson gently raised a hand. "We didn't see her come through. We'd report if we had."
Aron stared, then smirked. "Wilson, huh? You're the new guy Jason sent? .... Just remember that I hate disappointments."
Suddenly—rustling from the bushes.
"THERE SHE IS!"
A figure darted out. The chase for her resumed. While chasing her shadow Wilson's eyes widened.
"Wait.. where's the rest of your squad?" Wilson asked, running beside Aron.
"Scattered. Communications are dead."
"Then someone's helping her," Wilson muttered.
The girl disappeared into the night again. Aron ordered, "Wilson, Akira—take the left. My men will follow."
Akira grunted. "Splitting up in unknown terrain? Real genius move."
Without warning, Aron lunged forward and grabbed Akira by the collar, slamming him against the wall.
"You don't get to question me," he snarled, his forearm pressing hard against Akira's throat. Sparks from Akira's still-active spear fizzled nearby.
Wilson tensed, half-raising his weapon.
"You follow the fucking orders," Aron hissed, eyes burning, "or you walk back empty."
Akira struggled for a breath before Aron finally let go, stepping back without breaking eye contact.
"Now move."
They were ordered to search the area till the next instructions.
Akira muttered under his breath as they crept through the alley, his voice laced with irritation.
"Guy's a walking ego with a glass eye. Bet he doesn't even know how stupid he sounds."
Wilson offered a quiet, diplomatic reply, "He's intense, yeah… maybe just trying too hard to prove something."
Akira scoffed, eyes scanning the dark. "Prove what? That he's a dumbass with a death wish?"
Wilson chuckled softly, his grip tightening on his sword. "Keep your voice down. We're not alone out here."
Akira gave a half-shrug. "Yeah, and if we die, I'm blaming him first."
Moments later, one of the two accompanying soldiers vanished—no sound, no struggle, just gone.
The second turned, confused—
A spear shot up from the ground, silent and sudden, impaling him clean through the skull. He collapsed without a word.
Akira's eyes widened. The others were gone.
"Something's off," he muttered. "We need to be careful, oka—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
A massive shadow loomed behind Wilson, rising silently like a demon from the fog.
Akira's heart kicked into overdrive.
"WILSON, MOVE!" he shouted, while pushing him out of the way.
Akira screamed—but darkness claimed him. He fell, ankle pierced. The spear pinned him.
A shadow lunged, striking. Wilson's blade sliced—but passed through like mist.
Wilson, with no choice left, charged towards it, but the shadow turned and enveloped him.
A voice echoed faintly—"Daddy, no..."
But it was too late.
Smoke curled from Wilson's eye sockets as his body began to shudder, skin bubbling and peeling away like wet paper.
He let out one final choked gasp—eyes locked on a flickering vision of his daughter standing at the edge of the dark, reaching for him.
Then—his charred skeleton collapsed to the floor, blackened ribs still steaming.
---
Elsewhere, the girl darted through narrow lanes. Her shadow elongated unnaturally beneath her. The creature glided silently blended with her shadow, lance still wet with blood.
She whispered, "Four left?"
No answer, but she understood.
From a side street, a man lunged. "GOT YOU, BITCH!"
She smirked, spotted a wet patch on the ground, and slid across it. The man slipped hard—his knee cracked on impact.
She spun, delivered a clean chop to his neck. Out cold.
"Missed a spot, Shadow-san," she muttered.
Still, the entity said nothing.
"NOW, four left"
Aron and his remaining squad reached the scene, eyes darting between paths.
"I'M DONE WITH THESE DAMN CROSSROADS!" he bellowed. "Split again."
Now alone, he chased her deeper into the concrete maze. With a sharp flick of his arm, he swung his kusarigama, the weighted chain whistling through the air.
It missed her—but slammed into the wall beside her. The impact made the wall collapse.
She scrambled up and sprinted, leaping over walls. But ahead—she skidded to a stop. A dead end loomed.
Aron grinned. "Finally. No running now."
She backed up. "It's just you and me, big guy. No fun without an audience."
"SHUT UP!" he screamed, activating his electrified Kusarigama.
Her shadow warped, darker and taller, knowing that shadow is back.
"This is just the part where you start praying... if you still think anyone's listening."
Behind her, the wall darkened, grew eyes. Glowing. Purple.
The figure emerged, towering.
Aron stepped back. "What the hell is that?"
No time.
Before Aron could react, the creature lunged. In an instant, he was torn apart, his screams barely audible as the shadow swallowed him whole.
---
She looked at the bodies in silence. For a moment, her chest tightened—but she shoved it down. "They would've killed me," she whispered. "So why do I still feel like throwing up?"
She didn't look back.
Instead, she paused under a gnarled apple tree, ripped off a fruit with one hand, and bit into it. It was sour. Of course it was.
"You could've stepped in a little earlier, y'know," she muttered with her mouth full, wiping juice off her chin. The shadow didn't respond. It never did.
Her voice was calm, but her heartbeat wasn't. She felt the adrenaline settling into her bones, the hollowness of survival taking root where fear should've been.
"Why are you even protecting me?" she whispered, voice barely hanging on. "I don't remember anything about who I was. Just… flashes. Dreams I wake up sweating from."
She stared at the apple in her palm like she couldn't remember picking it up. Then she tossed it into the air — not playfully this time, but like she needed to do something, anything.
It slipped through her fingers, hit the ground, and rolled away. She didn't bother picking it up.
"Reincarnation, prophecies…" she muttered, voice catching for a second. "They sound cool in books."
Her eyes darted, unfocused. "In real life, they are just making me a target."
She pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, breathing shallow. Still upright. Still fighting not to fall apart.
She looked over at the shadow. "And you—whatever you are—you're the only thing keeping me alive. But I don't even know what you want from me."
"Sometimes, I want to burn this world down, I hate it, i hate everything"
---
Next day,
"Im so in love with him", she exclaimed
–– A Few Hours Earlier ––
Somewhere much less dramatic: Classroom 4B.
The classroom buzzes with half-bored energy. The teacher is going on about group dynamics in presentations, but Esha isn't really here.
Her pen taps softly against her notebook, her gaze fixed—unintentionally—on him.
Tenzin, always calm with that half-lazy smirk, like he knew things before the rest of the room caught up.
He's leaning back in his chair, listening, scribbling something in the margin of his notebook with a little smirk. And that's it. That's the moment. Esha stares a second too long.
He turns. Meets her eyes. Tilts his head slightly. Then raises his hand and waves.
Esha: (panicked whisper to herself)
Oh no. Tenzin saw me staring.
She waves back, trying to look casual.
Tenzin: (mouths)
Are you even awake?
She realizes what just happened—she got caught daydreaming about him by him. Her eyes snap back to her notebook.
TEACHER (without even looking):
Miss Esha, if you're done memorizing your classmate's face, perhaps you'd like to contribute something to this side of the discussion?
Class: (low chuckles)
Esha: (mumbling)
Sorry, ma'am.
---
AFTER CLASS
The room empties out slowly. Esha is shoving her books into her bag, mortified. Tenzin walks up beside her, his hands in his pockets.
Tenzin:
Well. Looks like we're stuck with each other.
There was something unreadable in his eyes, just for a second. Then it was gone.
Esha: (blinks)
Huh?
Tenzin: (grinning)
Group project. You and me. Miss Sharp-Eyes up there paired us. Either she's punishing you or giving you a chance to redeem yourself.
Esha: (laughs nervously)
Great. Redemption arc it is.
Beat.
Esha: (rushed)
So I'm thinking maybe we could—uh—meet... at a coffee? I mean—a coffee place. To plan. Plan the project. Not have a coffee, I mean we can have coffee, I drink coffee too but not like a... not like a date or—
Tenzin: (raises an eyebrow, then chuckles)
So... you want to meet me for coffee, not a date, but possibly involving coffee and possibly not a date?
Esha: (covers her face with her hand)
Oh my god, bury me.
Tenzin: (playfully dramatic)
Should I bring a presentation board or flowers? Just so I'm prepared for either vibe.
Esha: (laughs despite herself)
Just... bring yourself. And maybe a brain.
Tenzin:
I'll manage one of those.
Esha: (relieved)
Coffee sounds good. Saturday, 4 p.m.? That café near the station?
Tenzin: (nodding, as he walks away)
Looking forward to... project planning. Definitely not a date. Unless it is.
---
LATER – SCHOOL CANTEEN
Esha collapses into the chair beside Janya, beaming.
Esha:
Tenzin said yes. To coffee. I mean, project planning. But... coffee!
Janya: (sips her drink)
Girl, you asked him out mid-sentence stutter and he still said yes? That's either fate... or pity.
Esha:
He made a joke out of it! Like, actually funny. He was so chill. I feel like I can breathe around him. Is that normal?
Janya: (mock-serious)
Just so you know we're in the same class idiot. And it's called a crush. Symptoms include stuttering, daydreaming, and ignoring obvious red flags.
Esha:
Red flags? Come on, he's charming.
Janya: (raising an eyebrow)
So was Ted Bundy. Look what he turned it to be.
Esha: (groans)
Janya.
Janya: (sighs dramatically, then smiles)
Fine. He's cute, I'll give you that. But if he breaks your heart, I'm keying his bicycle.