Xavier the Hunter – Season 2
Episode 1 — "Shadows of the First Hunt"
Cold Open — A World in Flames
The sky burned crimson.
Mountains cracked and bled molten rivers as beasts larger than continents roamed, their footsteps collapsing valleys. Each roar they unleashed split the clouds apart. Lightning forked between their horns, and entire forests disintegrated under the sweep of a single tail.
At the heart of this chaos, warriors cloaked in divine light descended like meteors. Their weapons were forged from sunfire and starlight, cleaving through hide that could shrug off armies. Each strike shattered the sound barrier, echoing for miles.
And then—among them—stood one figure alone. No divine light cloaked him. No shining armor marked him as one of the gods' champions. Instead, a tattered hood shadowed his face, his blade glinting with a strange, dangerous hunger.
A wing—larger than a city—fell to the earth with a cataclysmic crash as he carved it from its beast host. Blood, like molten gold, hissed against the burning ground.
Somewhere in the storm, a voice distorted by static whispered—
"The First Hunt… was never completed."
Act 1 — Six Weeks Later
EXT. GUILD CAPITAL — MORNING
The war drums were silent now, but the city's pulse hadn't slowed. The streets of Elysium Prime were alive with vendors shouting, mercenaries haggling, and the scent of roasted street food drifting on the wind. The banners of the Hunter's Guild snapped in the breeze—a reminder to all that the Sky Tyrant Dragon had fallen.
Xavier walked through the main avenue, boots scuffing against the stone. People turned to stare. Whispers followed him. Godslayer. It was a name they said with awe and fear alike.
But victory's glow had dimmed. His hunt for the dragon had been the sharp edge of his purpose. Now, with that prey gone, there was an emptiness he couldn't name.
A familiar voice broke the weight in his chest.
"Hey, rookie."
Kai was leaning against the guild's grand doors, his usual smirk in place. He tossed Xavier a sealed envelope, stamped with the Guild Master's personal sigil.
"Guild Master wants you upstairs. Says this one's gonna be heavy."
INT. GUILD WAR ROOM
The room smelled faintly of parchment and steel. A massive, ancient map covered the table, glowing faintly with mana inscriptions. Across its surface, beast sigils pulsed—each representing something colossal enough to warrant a full-scale hunt.
The Guild Master stood at the map's head, his heavy cloak brushing the floor. His eyes were on a red sigil pulsing near the northern edge.
"The Dragon," he began, voice low, "was not our enemy. It was a guardian."
Xavier's brow furrowed. "Guarding what?"
The Guild Master's finger traced the map. "Something killed the rest of its kind. Something old. And now… they're coming for us."
A flicker of red caught Xavier's eye. One of the sigils blinked rapidly—then vanished altogether.
The Guild Master's voice was grim. "That was Frostmark City. A-rank fortress. Thirty thousand people. Gone in under a minute."
Act 2 — Frostwraith Expanse
EXT. BLIZZARD WASTELAND — DAY
The Hunter fleet descended through a sky of swirling white. The blizzard screamed around them, wind slashing across armor and exposed skin like knives.
What remained of Frostmark lay in ruin—a frozen graveyard. Buildings shattered into jagged ice shards, streets buried beneath sheets of frost several meters thick.
A lone figure stumbled toward the landing party, wrapped in frostbitten rags. His lips trembled as he spoke.
"It… wasn't a beast…" His eyes were wild, haunted. "…It was a man."
The snow thickened, swirling unnaturally. The air grew heavier, colder.
From the white haze, he emerged.
The Cloaked Hunter.
Twin scythes hung at his sides, their curved blades dripping with frost that never melted. His presence was like a wound in the air—wrong, jagged, inevitable.
"You think you're saviors," he said, voice carrying over the storm. "But the gods you hunt were chains. I'm here to break them all."
⸻
HUD:
XAVIER — Level 25 → LIMIT BREAK ENGAGED
⸻
They clashed instantly—Xavier's blade meeting the Cloaked Hunter's twin arcs of steel. Sparks and frost exploded from the impact, each strike echoing like a thunderclap across the frozen plain.
Golden arcs of Xavier's Apex Hunter Mode ripped through the storm, clashing with the Cloaked Hunter's crimson frost aura. The snow itself seemed to freeze midair with each blow, suspended in time by the force of their duel.
Xavier ducked under a sweeping scythe, countering with Volt Breaker Overdrive—only for his blade to skid off a wall of sudden ice the Cloaked Hunter conjured.
"You're fast," the Cloaked Hunter said, almost admiringly. "But speed means nothing when you can't see the truth."
Before Xavier could respond, his opponent vanished into the blizzard. The silence was sudden and suffocating.
At Xavier's feet lay a single object, half-buried in snow—a hunter's tag. Blood still stained its surface.
He brushed it clean. The name carved into the steel froze his breath.
It was his mentor's.
Act 3 — The Hunt's New Path
EXT. HUNTER AIRSHIP — SUNSET
The fleet's return was quiet. The sun bled orange and gold across the clouds as the airships cut through the horizon.
Xavier stood alone on the deck, the tag clenched in his fist. The metal was ice-cold against his palm.
Kai approached, his usual light tone gone. "If he's taking down Hunters like this…" He glanced at the horizon. "…we're not ready."
Xavier didn't take his eyes from the sky ahead. "Then we get ready." His voice was low, steady. "No matter what it takes."
From the mist ahead, a silhouette emerged—a fortress carved directly into the side of a glacier, its walls jagged and alive with faint blue light. Towers of ice spiraled upward, each topped with braziers of ghostly flame.
Frostwraith Citadel.
Ending Tease
INT. FROSTWRAITH CITADEL — NIGHT
The great hall was lit by the cold glow of frozen torches. At its far end, a throne of jagged ice rose high into the shadows.
The Cloaked Hunter knelt before it, head bowed.
From the darkness above the throne, a figure leaned forward. His skin was pale as moonlight, his silver eyes burning with cruel amusement. A crown of twisted black horns curved around his head like the halo of a dark god.
The Shadow King spoke, his voice like a blade dragged across stone.
"Bring me the Godslayer," he said. "Alive."
The cold in the hall deepened. The hunt had only just begun.