As the flames in Rithvik's hand roared to life, I saw the boy drop—knees hitting dirt, breath shallow, eyes wide with panic.
He looked like I did, once.
Rithvik grinned.
"Now that's the look I was searching for… Where've you been hiding it, huh?"
He moved forward, heat radiating off him like the self-righteous god he thought he was.
Then the father's voice broke the air.
"Don't you dare come near my son!"
Power in that voice. Echo Chakra. Damn strong one too. It ripped the soundscape wide open—loud enough to rupture Rithvik's eardrum. He winced, staggered. Impressed. Irritated.
"Oh? An Echo Chakra user?"
He rubbed his ear, then gave his men a lazy look.
That was all it took.
The father stood tall. Brave. Naïve. He didn't see the soldiers coming.
Metal rods shoved through his mouth sideways.
Blood sprayed.
The boy screamed like his soul was being torn apart.
The mother ran to them, blind with grief. Her hands tried to hold the man together, but there was too much blood. Too much loss. Her scream burned the air.
And Rithvik?
He laughed. The kind of laugh only monsters make when the world around them breaks.
"What a family! The boy's a Blaze user, the father's Echo… but something was missing, right?"
Before he could finish that thought, the mother lit up—flames bursting from her hands. She roared, threw a blast at him.
He stepped through it like it was rain.
"Yeah… now it's complete."
He drove his foot into her gut. She folded instantly, coughing blood, crumpling beside her ruined husband.
Rithvik looked down at them both—like gods look at ants.
"What a waste of talent. If you'd been born under the Order of the Hammer, your family would've stood among the elite."
She still looked up at him—broken, but defiant.
Didn't matter.
"But what can I do?" Rithvik said, voice low and cold. "It's your forefathers who chose the wrong side. If you want someone to blame… blame yourselves for being born outcasts."
And that was his verdict.
A flick of his wrist.
"Take him."
Cuffs launched. Locked the man's wrists.
The magnetic pull kicked in, and the father was dragged—body scraping over rock and gravel—toward the crash site.
Alive, but barely.
I didn't move.
At the crash site, they threw his broken body onto a magnetic plate rigged to a transport truck.
He tried to rise. Couldn't.
Rithvik just watched.
"Let the hunt begin."
The barrier activated. Mist hissed. And that's when it began—the slithering. The breathing. The Interstellar Beast, hidden in the fog.
The man ran. Rithvik leaned forward, grinning.
"Let's see what kind of beast we're dealing with."
Then, silence.
And then… the shadow leapt.
Tentacles coiled around the man like ropes made of muscle and nightmare. He couldn't scream—mouth torn to ribbons. His body thrashed, gasping, drowning in pain.
Still, Rithvik just stood there, sipping from his flask.
"Hmph. That's it? Just squirming and crying? Tch. Fucking boring."
He stepped into the barrier.
The beast saw him. Didn't flinch.
But Rithvik raised his hand, flames blooming in his palm like a newborn sun.
"Hellfire."
The whole place lit up.
The beast screamed. The man didn't. Couldn't.
Everything became ash.
No body. No bones.
Just a blackened silence, and the monster that burned it all.
Everyone watched that the brutality still they won't have the guts to stand against them and instead they consoling that mother and son to co exist with the fact that their father is no more.
I don't blame them, not really. They're the type who work with their heads down, clinging to scraps of dignity and surrender under the power.
Doesn't matter. In mine, they're just pig shits dressed in rags.
I can see literally lily can't get her head out the thing that happened now but this is the reality of our people and I don't give the shit because, who came for me and my mother when she get tortured and killed like today that family suffered. Just leave it, fuck them all.
We keep walking until the streets open up to the base of the Tower—a squat, iron-spined structure jutting into the grey sky like a watchtower for a prison that's long forgotten.
Inside, the air feels colder. Cleaner.
"Ele," Lily says.
A smooth synthetic voice answers,
"Yes. Voice recognition activated."
From the side wall, panels hiss open, revealing a retinal scanner and fingerprint pad.
"Please provide both retinal and fingerprint verification," Ele says.
Lily leans in, letting the scanner flash across her eye, then presses her fingers to the pad.
"Recognition successful," Ele intones.
As Lily puts her fingerprint and retinal imprint, the platform we're standing on begins to sink. Down, down, down—until it stops with a low thud. The doors slide open.
For me, it's nothing new. I've seen this a thousand times.
But for you? You'd probably think this was something out of a parallel-universe theory—a secret society operating deep beneath the surface.
Lily and I step out. The air is thick with the bustle of a hundred voices—shouting, bargaining, haggling over stolen goods. Weapons. Tech. Trinkets worth fortunes up above, traded here for scraps of credit. This is my world: scavenging, looting, and selling to whoever has the guts—and the coin.
Up in the slums, the outcasts glare at me like I'm dirt. Here, it's the opposite.
"Yo, Mike! Where've you been all these days?"
"I'm waiting for your next loot—don't just sell to the boss, man!"
I don't answer. They can cheer all they want, but I know the truth—most of them are just waiting for the day I slip and fall. That's the thing about my kind: we clap for each other's victories, but we live for the downfall.
We make our way to our designated spot—easy to find among the chaos. While the rest of the market looks like a pile of garbage on fire, our place stands out… though not by much. It's still noisy, cramped, and full of shouting—buyers scrambling for weapons and high-tech gadgets, most of them looted from C.O.S.M.O.S. And, yeah… most of those jobs are mine.
The first to greet me isn't Lily, or some customer. It's Raju. Twelve years old. Mouth like a sewer.
"Fucking bastards, keep in line—or shut your damn ass and get out!" he yells at the customers, then spots me. "Yo, Mike! Still alive, huh? Go see the boss. Pray you don't get a burn mark this time."
I shoot back, "Go drown, brat."
He turns to Lily, smirking. "Hey, fatass! What took you so long? Making excuses to skip your job?"
This is the last mistake he'd make today.
The moment those words leave his mouth, I know that brat's screams would come. And sure enough—seconds later—his wails echoes behind me as Lily went to work on him. Poor kid.
I step into the back room.
As Victor skt at his desk, his fingers rest lightly on the old, worn frame of that group photo—soldiers frozen in a moment of happiness I couldn't relate to. They looked like they belonged somewhere… like they fought for something real.
I don't know a single face in it, except for his. Boss Victor.
He don't even need to turn to know I am here. But when he finally did, that stare—cold, sharp, like it could skin me alive—locks onto me. It is the kind of look that made the air feel heavier.
And then this damn system starts to make fun of me.
From thin air, right in my vision, a glowing, black-edged window appears. Letters sharp as knives:
Mission: Defeat Victor.
Reward: Black Essence + 20,000,000
Bonus: +50% Core Combat Status
Proceed? [Yes] / [No]
My heart didn't beat faster—it stopped.
Is this System messing with me? Is it trying to bait me into fighting him—Victor—the man who could probably snap my neck before I blink?
And worse… why is it feel like it is smiling at me from inside my head?
And I was like," What the fuck!"
Three system windows slammed into my vision in rapid succession.
[SYSTEM: Defeat "Victor"]
[SYSTEM: Defeat "Victor"]
[SYSTEM: Defeat "Victor"]
Bullshit.
Every single one of them felt like a cold spike driving into my skull.
Who in their right mind picks a fight like that?
A losing battle. A permanent losing battle. No respawn. No second chance.
Yet the system just kept taunting me, shoving the impossible in my face.
The real Victor was right in front of me — alive, breathing, and looking at me like I was some pathetic bug squirming under a magnifying glass.
Another notification blinked into existence.
I slammed NO without thinking.
Another popped up.
NO.
Another.
NO.
Click. Click. Click.
Like my hand was on fire, swatting them away before they could sink into me.
His voice cut through.
"What's with your hand?"
I froze. Yeah… from the outside, I probably looked like a maniac — just a brat flailing at the air.
"Nothing at all," I muttered, forcing my fingers still.
Victor's stare didn't waver.
"Where did you go last night?"
The question landed like a weight. I didn't want to answer.
"Pass."
His tone sharpened, just enough to slice the air.
"No pass. Just answer."
I said nothing.
Because if I opened my mouth — even one word — that grey-beard would know exactly where I'd been. And that… was a problem I didn't need right now.
Victor let the silence stretch. Then, flatly:
"Leave it. I'll give you a job instead. Find Mint Vashir. He has a piece of information I require."
And then—
[Side Mission: Locate "Mint" Vashir]
Reward: Valuable Information
Bonus: Relationship with Victor +52.]
The window lingered for just a moment too long, the letters pulsing like they were breathing.
The side mission notification hovered in front of me, its glow pressing against my vision like a demand I couldn't ignore.
I didn't have a choice.
Not because I wanted to help Victor. Not because I trusted him.
But because I needed to know more about this system.
And saying no to this guy? Yeah, that wasn't an option.
I hit [YES].
[Side Mission: Find "Mint" Vashir — ACTIVE]
The moment I accepted, the world shifted.
A thin, pulsing line appeared in my vision — a trail of light stretching out of the room, cutting through walls and streets, pointing somewhere far ahead.
"What the…?" I muttered, eyes narrowing. "What is this?"
Victor's voice followed, calm but loaded.
"To find him, you have to—"
"I don't need instructions," I cut in. "I'll find him myself."
His voice rose a fraction.
"Just listen to me, for god's sake—"
But I was already walking out, flicking my hand at him in a lazy wave like he was background noise.
The door shut behind me.
Victor stood there for a long moment, staring at a framed photo on the wall. His fingers lingered on the glass.
His voice was quieter this time, almost… human.
"I don't know if I can keep the promise, brother."
I walked.
And walked.
Morning turned into late evening, the sky bleeding into orange before slipping into shadow.
The glowing line in my vision still stretched ahead, never ending, like it was mocking me.
I didn't know where it was leading.
And I sure as hell wasn't following it because I trusted the system I'd gotten last night.
No.
I was following it because I knew Mint Vashir.
A con artist of the highest order.
A man who could change his face like changing clothes.
Who could crawl into people's minds and bend their thoughts until they believed whatever story he fed them.
He could do that because of his Mind Chakra.
And now you're probably wondering — what's a chakra? What's a Mind Chakra?
Well, chakra is—
Wait the glowing line in my HUD suddenly ended. Right in front of an apartment building.
We'll talk about chakras later.
The place didn't look abandoned. The walls were clean, windows intact. But there was something else.
An unease.
Like the air itself didn't want me here.
Then—
[SYSTEM: Someone is watching you]
I froze. My eyes scanned the shadows.
"Show yourself, Vashir."
A laugh answered me.
Not sinister.
Just… irritating.
Like a mosquito buzzing near your ear that you can't swat.
"What is the reason for the great Night Reaper, who used to reap and scavenge in the night, to be here?"
I didn't bother with games.
"Victor needs information from you."
From above, a figure descended — no sound, no strain — and landed softly in front of me.
Mint Vashir.
"But the great reaper knows," he said with a faint smirk, "everything has a price."
I'd expected that line.
"What's your price?" I asked flatly.
No need to let him drag me into circles. The faster this conversation ended, the better.
Vashir scoffed, tossing the words like they weighed nothing.
"Just copper horn. That too—ten."
Before I could even open my mouth, a window burst into view:
Mission: Defeat 10 Copper Horn Boars
Reward: Black Essence Units ×100 each
Bonus: Copper Horn Boar Meat
[ YES ] / [ NO ]
I blinked. "Wait—copper horn? As in, copper horn from Copper Horn Boars? The E-rank interstellar beasts?"
Vashir nodded casually. "Yes."
I stared. "Are you out of your mind? How the hell am I supposed to kill a beast like that?"
"You're a Reaper," Vashir said, almost bored. "Is it really so hard to reap an E-rank interstellar beast?"
I glared at him, wondering if he was mocking me. But then—those words on the window caught my attention: Black Essence Units.
That was what I needed. The main mission required them, and if I could gather enough, I might even unlock the first petal— and I could able to find what this all system and petal stuff.
My hesitation melted away. I hit YES.
The window flickered—and then another line appeared, this one burning bright red.
Vashir's voice cut in.
"Where are you looking?"
"Nothing," I said.
But his eyes narrowed. He didn't believe me.
Then—his irises shifted, the lenses inside his eyes rotating like mechanical shutters.
I knew that ability.
Memory Snatch.
A trick only he possessed—slipping into someone's mind, rifling through their memories, or worse, showing them visions they believed were real.
I watched him closely, but I couldn't see exactly what he found.
All I knew was that he froze, eyes widening, and took two slow steps back.
I'd never seen him react like that.
Then, just as suddenly, his smirk returned.
"Cool," he said softly. "Let's meet again."
He flicked his fingers.
The apartment dissolved around me. Walls bled into rust, ceiling into grey sky. I was standing in an empty, abandoned playground—swings swaying without wind, the creak of chains echoing in the stillness.
Figures. Vashir wasn't going to hand over his location to anyone.
Fine.
I turned and saw it again: the red line in my HUD, pulsing faintly, waiting for me to follow.
Now the real game just going to begin and I knew that I am going get into an mess that I never going to get out of it.