Feralium — Near Hell Border — Outside the Broken-Bones Tavern

  Isaac and the rhino stared each other down.

  “Dirty thieves…”

  The rhino swung the chain once. The links screamed through the air like a whip made of iron.

  Isaac didn’t flinch. He stepped in instead—close enough that the chain had no space.

  The rhino’s eyes widened.

  Isaac drove a hard punch into the rhino’s ribs.

  The rhino grunted, planted his feet, and yanked the chain around Isaac’s forearm like a hook—trying to drag him off balance.

  Isaac let it wrap once.

  Then he twisted, grabbed the chain with his other hand, and pulled back with pure strength.

  The rhino stumbled forward.

  Isaac met him with an uppercut that snapped the rhino’s head back.

  Dust burst off the rhino’s hood.

  The rhino roared and slammed the chain down like a hammer.

  Isaac hopped sideways, the chain smashing the ground and sending pebbles flying.

  The rhino tried to follow with a second swing—wide, brutal.

  Isaac ducked under it, stepped inside again, and hit the rhino’s stomach twice.

  One. Two.

  The rhino coughed, bent forward—

  Isaac drove his shoulder into the rhino’s chest and shoved.

  The rhino skidded backward, boots carving lines in the dirt.

  The chain rattled as he caught himself.

  Isaac watched him breathe, watched his stance reset.

  Then he paused—hand drifting behind his neck like he just remembered something that made his mood worse.

  Damn. I completely forgot Yu.

  He glanced toward the tavern distant.

  The rhino spat dirt and lifted the chain again.

  “You think you’re strong because you hit hard?” the rhino growled. “You’re just—”

  Isaac’s eyes narrowed.

  A cold prickle climbed his spine.

  He shifted without thinking.

  A blade of claws sliced the air where his neck had been.

  Isaac dropped into a crouch and turned fast.

  A wolf-beast in a mask landed behind him, low and silent, claws out.

  Isaac’s gaze flicked between them.

  Two enemies. Two angles.

  The rhino’s nostrils flared.

  “He’s mine, Samantha. Don’t interfere.”

  Samantha’s head tilted. Her voice was sharp, impatient.

  “Move, Bardock. Go back to the hideout. The crew needs you. I’ll handle him.”

  Bardock’s jaw tightened. The chain scraped as he took one step forward.

  “You think you can order me around?”

  Samantha’s claws flexed.

  “What did you say?”

  Bardock snorted, furious.

  “Whatever. Damn it.”

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  Samantha’s shoulders rose like she was about to pounce—then Isaac’s eyes flared.

  A thin laser snapped out from his gaze and carved a bright line into the dirt between them.

  The ground hissed. The burn stayed glowing for a second.

  Both of them froze.

  Isaac’s voice dropped, calm but heavy.

  “Enough. Nobody leaves until pay for what you did.”

  Samantha stared at him.

  Not at his eyes—at his face.

  Her body went still like a memory just hit her in the chest.

  “…Wait.”

  Isaac frowned.

  Samantha took a slow step closer, careful, like she didn’t trust what she was seeing.

  “…Isaac?”

  Isaac blinked once.

  “What…?”

  Samantha’s voice cracked—not weak, just shocked.

  “It’s you.”

  Isaac shifted his weight, ready.

  “You know me?”

  Samantha raised a hand, palm open, trying to show she wasn’t attacking.

  Isaac’s eyes glowed faintly.

  “Don’t.”

  Samantha stopped. Then she reached up with both hands and pulled her mask off.

  Her face showed.

  Isaac’s breath caught.

  “…Samantha.”

  Samantha’s eyes lit up.

  “YOU’RE ALIVE—”

  She lunged forward—fast—and jumped onto him like she was afraid he’d disappear again.

  Isaac caught her on instinct, arms locking around her so she wouldn’t fall.

  Bardock just stood there.

  “…Huh?”

  Samantha grabbed Isaac’s face and started licking his cheek like she was proving he was real.

  Isaac turned his head, half laughing, half confused.

  “Okay—okay—”

  Samantha pulled back, cheeks warming, suddenly remembering herself.

  “Sorry— I— I got carried away.” She smiled, embarrassed but happy.

  Isaac wiped his face, still trying to process it.

  “It’s… fine.”

  Samantha’s grin came back instantly. She grabbed Isaac’s hand and yanked.

  “Come. Come, come— I need to show you something.”

  Bardock snapped, loud.

  “SAMANTHA!”

  She didn’t even look back.

  Isaac let her pull him a few steps… then glanced again toward the tavern.

  Yu…

  He tightened his grip slightly—like he was deciding whether to go with Samantha or sprint back.

  Feralium — Market

  Yu moved through the crowd with her hood low, trying to pick Isaac out by scent—then immediately regretting having a nose.

  “Why does everything smell like… dirty ass?”

  Rotten fruit, cheap ale, sweat, animal musk, smoke. It all blended into one filthy blanket. The more she focused, the worse it got.

  A shout cut through the chaos.

  “Miss! Miss—look here! Lucky ring! Fresh luck, fresh love!”

  She turned, annoyed—then saw it.

  A small ring on a stained velvet cloth. Simple. Plain.

  …And her eyes lit up anyway.

  “A ring?”

  The vendor leaned forward fast, reading her face like a book. “Ah—yes. A love-luck ring. They say it makes any creature in Mundus fall for you. Any race. Any kingdom. Any—”

  “That’s incredible.” Yu lifted it, squinting. “But it looks… basic.”

  The vendor didn’t hesitate. He performed hesitation.

  “Well, of course it looks simple, my lady. That’s the point.”

  Yu blinked.

  He lowered his voice like he was sharing sacred knowledge. “Real luck doesn’t like attention. If it shines too much, jealous spirits follow it. Love spirits too. They cling. They curse. They ruin.” He tapped his temple. “So the old craftsmen hide the blessing inside a plain band. Only the heart feels it. Not the eye.”

  Yu stared at the ring again.

  …That actually sounded annoyingly reasonable.

  “Wow.” She nodded slowly. “Yeah. That makes sense. I’ll take it.”

  She slid it on and stepped away, admiring it like it had just rewritten her fate.

  “Wait—WAIT!” the vendor barked, lunging half a step. “You have to pay! Nothing is free here!”

  Yu glanced back, calm.

  “Paying?” She tilted her head. “How much?”

  “Special price. Only today.” He raised a greedy hand. “Five thousand.”

  Yu froze.

  “Five thousand?”

  He shrugged like it hurt him more than her. “If you don’t want it, give it back and walk away.”

  His palm stayed out—expecting coins or the ring.

  Yu looked at his hand. Then at his face.

  Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I’ll keep the ring,” she said softly. “But first… look into my eyes.”

  The vendor scoffed—then met her gaze.

  He went pale so fast it was almost funny.

  In Yu’s eyes there wasn’t anger.

  There was something older. Colder. The kind of truth that makes a weak mind panic.

  His knees buckled.

  He collapsed—foam at his mouth, eyes rolled back—like his body decided it was safer to shut down than keep witnessing her.

  Nobody in the market cared. People argued over meat. A drunk laughed. A child cried. Life kept moving like nothing happened.

  Yu crouched, patted his cheek twice, polite as a princess.

  “Thank you so much, sir.”

  She stood and walked off, the ring catching the light as she disappeared into the stink and noise.

  Valoon — Shoreline

  Yae stepped onto the wet sand in her humanoid form.

  She was bare—cold air biting her skin—so she turned her body away from the open beach and covered herself as best she could.

  A torn piece of fabric lay half-buried near the tide line. She grabbed it, ripped it wider, and tied it into rough rags that at least hid enough to move.

  Up on the cliffs, the silhouette of Yamato’s castle watched the coast like a black tooth against the sky.

  She lifted her chin and drew in a slow breath.

  Salt. Smoke. Sweat.

  Dockworkers.

  She followed the scent along the beach until the wooden shacks came into view—lanterns, laughter, boots scraping planks.

  Two men stood outside a small cabin, talking and joking like nothing in the world could touch them.

  Yae didn’t hesitate.

  She crossed the sand in a blur.

  One strike to the throat—precise, quiet.

  The first man collapsed without a sound.

  The second turned too late. Her palm hit the side of his neck, and his body folded like his bones had forgotten how to hold him up.

  The door creaked.

  A young dragon-girl stepped out, confused—eyes widening—

  Yae caught her before she could shout, slammed her down hard, and the girl went limp.

  No screaming. No struggle. Just silence.

  Yae dragged them inside and shut the door.

  She moved fast—searching, grabbing anything useful.

  A bundle of worn farm clothes. A hood. A faded scarf that smelled like hay and cheap soap.

  She dressed quickly, tightened the belt, pulled the hood low, and tucked her hair away until her face became another shadow.

  On the table, a small dagger lay beside a crust of bread.

  She took it, tested the weight once, and slid it into her waistband.

  No mistakes this time.

  Yae opened the door again and slipped out.

  Head down. Steps steady.

  Then she headed toward the nearest city, blending into the noise like she belonged there.