25 / 02 / 2019, 19:54 — Monday, Osaka Prefectural Police Headquarters, Osaka.
The office was quiet, bathed in a dim, pale light.
From the outside, the city hummed faintly, the distant wail of sirens, the sporadic rumble of cars, the occasional chatter of pedestrians. But inside, the headquarters was an island of stillness.
The walls, lined with filing cabinets and shelves of case reports, absorbed the faint light from the lone ceiling bulb, leaving corners in muted shadow.
On the desk, a neat stack of files sat, though one lay slightly askew, the latest in a long chain of unresolved cases.
The only sound that broke the silence was the crisp flipping of paper, a methodical rhythm that echoed in the otherwise empty room.
At the desk sat a man in his mid-forties, his posture stiff, shoulders broad with the weight of responsibility.
The nameplate read: "Nagasawa Toshio — Heaven Gate of Osaka, Leader of Second Division."
His face bore the signs of both age and battle, stubble on a square jaw, lines etched around sharp, dark eyes, and hair streaked with silver, glinting faintly in the lamp's light.
He flipped through the papers, frowning more deeply with each passing page.
Finally, with a quiet exhalation, he tossed the top sheet onto the desk and rotated his chair to face the window.
The skyline of Osaka stretched beyond the glass, lights flickering, cars moving slowly along avenues, neon signs beginning to glow in the early night.
He said nothing, merely gazing outward, his face heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Across from him, a young woman sat on a low sofa.
Her dark-brown hair was dulled in the dim light, her sharp eyes filled with concern.
Despite the faint light, the tension in her posture was evident; the sudden flick of the paper startled her, but she did not flinch.
At twenty-three, she was both youthful and professional, dressed in a fitted black jacket, a crisp shirt, and short pants, practical attire for someone trained in the field.
"The situation is really not good, Takahashi-kun," Toshio said, his voice low and measured, still facing the window.
"It's been two weeks since the disappearances began. No clues, no witnesses… nothing. And that's if we only consider ordinary possibilities."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the dim office.
"But if we consider the extraordinary…" His hand traced the rim of the windowsill. "…if these disappearances are caused by someone capable of evading surveillance, manipulating events… it suggests a level of ability most can't comprehend."
He rotated slightly, catching her gaze from the corner of his eye, though his expression remained distant.
"The other divisions aren't doing better," he continued, voice flat but tense.
"Pressure from headquarters is mounting, manpower is stretched thin, and the front line keeps shifting. We have no choice; this case falls on us."
His chair spun smoothly, stopping as he faced her fully.
"Tell the First Division to stay out of this. If they overstep, let them report to headquarters… then I will let them see the prowess of the Hell Gate."
"Those softies from Heaven Gate can only tread between rules; if we slightly deter them, they will back down… sooner or later."
He leaned back, hands clasped behind his head.
"This is an opportunity for us… and for you, Takahashi-kun."
He spoke in one breath, as if exhaling the burden he carried.
Then he returned his gaze to her fully, the faintest trace of a smile softening his otherwise weary expression.
It was a rare warmth, a fleeting recognition of potential.
He recalled the day he first found her.
---
She had been hiding, hunted not by fear, but by purpose.
By that time, she had already taken thirty lives, a chain of retribution, her power uncontrolled, but precise.
The investigation revealed her victims: a loan shark syndicate responsible for her brother's death.
Tortured beyond recognition, they dump the body, still barely alive until dawn, so she and her family can see it—the death of their brother and what will happen if they oppose them.
Toshio still remembered that day; even when he read her case files, he could not help but clench his jaw, his face twisted. A momentary fury and anger burned through his chest, the long-lost flame of revenge.
They are trying to break her mentally, playing with her and waiting for her to willingly fall into the trap, like a lamb to slaughter.
That day was also the day her parents died by suicide, leaving her alone with the burden, and coincidentally, that night, she awakened her power.
Mentally broken, she doesn't know what to do until she decides to kill them with her own power, hunting every one of them.
Her power is exceptionally rare—so uncommon, in fact, that even the ancient records speak of it in revered tones. It's no wonder the Headquarters has its eyes set on her.
She is a modern-day Onmyōji who is exceptionally gifted at the "Way of Celestial".
He remembered the ruin of the building she had hidden in, twisted steel bars, cold, and walls full of mold.
Moonlight poured through shattered windows, reflecting coldly on concrete floors.
She had looked at him then, expressionless, unafraid, her gaze sharp with vengeance.
It was the gaze of someone cast out, someone forged in suffering, the perfect recruit for Hell Gate.
He had fought for her adoption as an agent, spent time and resources defending her in court.
He sees her as his adopted daughter and is prepared to pass on his skills to her, even if it means she takes the lives of those he believes deserve it.
He doesn't flinch at this; instead, he expects her to be praised. For him, the principle of blood for blood is what truly matters.
And now, five years later, she was one of his best — a C-Class Extraordinary, leading investigations with a level of skill that matched her potential.
"You don't have to worry about anything," Toshio said aloud, snapping himself back to the present, his voice booming in the empty office.
"Do your job, and do it well. But as always… don't get careless."
A sigh escaped the young woman's lips, relief washing over her face.
"Okay, Captain. I'll report back soon. Just wait for my news!"
She rose from her seat, saluted, and walked out, the sound of her steps fading in the hallway.
The moment passed. Toshio's head tilted slightly, the fleeting warmth buried once more beneath the cold, disciplined mask he carried.
He opened a new file on the desk, exhaled slowly, and allowed his fingers to trace the edges.
The title caught his eye: "The Day of Starfall."
He scanned the document carefully.
---
Date / Time of Notice: 08 / 07 / 2018
Classification: B1 - Class Affairs
Clearance: Region Overseer
The report detailed the sudden appearance of a massive landmass, approximately 15 million km², in the Pacific Ocean between Japan and America.
Alongside it, a massive crater appeared in Fukuoka, 10 km in diameter, consuming all people in the region.
Agents sent to investigate could only approach the crater's edge, unable to penetrate more than a kilometer inside.
Miraculously, three survivors were found: two boys and a little girl.
Their identities were classified, protected under Upper Masters clearance.
The report hinted at connections between the crater and the sudden island, but the full extent was restricted to the highest levels.
[REDACTED - Required Clearance: Upper Masters]
---
Toshio's fingers brushed the file edge again, his face unreadable.
Then, instinctively, his gaze shifted to the city outside, Osaka at night, lights twinkling like distant stars.
He did not speak. The quiet office held only the sound of his breath, the faint hum of electricity, and the distant heartbeat of the city beyond.