It has been three days since Rinoa not reported any progress.
In the Tower of Covenant, an unnamed room beneath the Hall of the Council of Gaia, whispers filled the shadows. Rinoa's name was mentioned silently—in glyph language, in circular patterns, in tones of disbelief.
"She has failed," said Marquess, his voice reflecting despair. In the howling wind, there was a restless movement in the air, as if waiting for an answer that would never come.
"Not failed," Darius replied quietly, his tone tense, as if recalling a battle once won. "She stopped." His heart raced, uncertainty gripping him.
"What's the difference?"
No one answered. But in another room, far from the meeting, a group of individuals had gathered. They were not wearing the official insignia of Gaia. Their faces were concealed by symbols of identity-erasing magic; their aura radiated an inescapable threat.
They were known as Vigilants Nullis.
They were not executioners. They erase. Not just lives—but existence itself. No memories, no graves, no recollection; only a haunting silence accompanied each of their actions.
Their leader is known as Sister Mirea, an elderly woman with a voice like the whisper of a winter wind. Every word she speaks trembles the air; her eyes are blind. Yet, she sees through the glyph embedded in her own tongue, probing the minds of others with an unpredictable power.
Near the Arkanum Veritas headquarters
Rinoa feels an odd spasm in her chest. Something in the night aether feels... twisted; dark power creeping through her veins. The air does not vibrate with the usual mana but with... nothingness that binds her in fear. Her eyes sweep across the sky, the clamor of unease filling her mind.
He stood on the roof of the old house. Snow fell silently, yet time seemed to freeze, each second emphasizing the chilling silence.
In the distance, three shadows emerged. They walked toward Rinoa, dark figures carrying an unfathomable threat.
Their footsteps did not crunch on the snow, as if they were stepping upon a layer of frozen mist. Their movements produced no echo, only a haunting and suffocating silence. Since their arrival, not a single bird could be heard, just the whisper of the cold wind that forced Rinoa to pull her jacket tighter.
Rinoa recognized the pattern; each of their movements was part of a deadly dance that had been choreographed beforehand.
"Nullis..."
One word, one truth that shook the tranquility of her soul.
One of them, a tall man with a faintly glowing red mask, raised his hand in a slow motion, as if time held its breath. At his fingertips, magic was not thrown—rather, it was taken, as if the light from the lantern of the house sensed the emptiness encroaching upon it. The light extinguished suddenly, leaving them in thick darkness. Kael's voice, which had been reciting, faded away, and the remnants of rationality dissolved. Even Rinoa's breath felt... choked, as if ensnared in an invisible web of panic.
They did not come for Elena; they came for her.
"Rinoa, the executor. Your contract has been terminated. You are a leak. And we... are the closure."
Rinoa took a step back, her feet feeling heavy as if bound by an invisible weight. She wasn't panicking—her calmness was her safety belt amidst the storm—but her body felt heavier than usual. The very essence of her life—which fueled her power—seemed to be crushed by the space itself, seeping into every pore and questioning her very existence.
"I was never a part of your system," she said softly, her voice trembling, yet hidden courage lurked behind her words.
"Precisely. That's why you must be eradicated."
The explosion of battle began on the roof.
Not spectacular, yet extraordinary. The sounds of combat echoed, muffled by the biting atmospheric pressure. Each attack from Nullis not only shattered physical bodies, they erased fragments of existence—memories, direction, sound. Rinoa felt every strike like the tolling of death bells, its vibrations piercing into the deepest recesses of her soul.
Rinoa danced among the shadows, her movements agile and full of resilience. Her wounds felt deeper, for it was not just flesh being sliced, but hope and reality that tore at her spirit. She could feel the cold creeping away at her resolve, yet each step she took was a declaration: she would fight.
As he fell to his knees, a shadow of Nullis lifted a transparent black blade—
"Say the last name you wish to be remembered," Elena's voice trembled, filled with tension, piercing the suffocating silence.
"...Fitran," he gasped, as if his own name had become a weapon aimed at his heart.
And as the blade threatened to erase him, intimidating with a terrifying black light—
A white light erupted from within the house, shattering the darkness.
Kael shot out with the Codex open in his hands, its pages flickering and glowing with ancient knowledge. Elena followed closely behind, her face marked with streaks of blood dripping from her hand, which still clutched the ancient glyph, a clear tension etched on her expression.
"Not tonight," Elena declared, her voice firm, as if the challenge echoed amidst the shadows.
"You protect a traitor?" asked the shadow, its voice raspy and cold, like the night wind piercing through the bones.
"We protect people," Kael replied, his eyes shining with determination, defiantly facing the darkness that surrounded them.
The sky seemed to tear apart as the tension mounted, and the snowfall came to a halt, as if nature itself was holding its breath. An icy cheer reverberated—
As Elena launched her final glyph, an immense power surged through the air. Kael, panting heavily, had run out of pages from the Codex, his gaze crushing the last shadow of Nullis who raised his weapon, ready to finish Rinoa. The terror of death's grasp enveloped them.
And at that moment…
Time stood still.
"Dimensional Cleave."
The slash appeared like a black wound in the air, gaping like a shattered glass with dark light emanating from within. The world suddenly fell silent, as if nature was holding its breath.
Not metaphorically—truly silent. The wind stopped; it was as if the world had been sucked into a chilling silence. Snow particles hung in the air, displaying a deceptive beauty. Blood trickling from Rinoa's cheek froze mid-path, as if time itself was caught in an unavoidable drama.
One of the Vigilants Nullis, endowed with the ability Temporal Slice, attempted to move his body—and that body shattered, from within. A silent scream, as if his bones surrendered before they could move. The burning sensation of pain and regret slowly crawled inside him.
And from behind the smoke and shards of magic that had yet to dissipate, he emerged, as if penetrating the boundary between worlds.
Fitran.
Not wearing a cloak. Not wielding a weapon. Only his calm stride, like a breath of wind caressing the face on a chilling night; his gaze resembled a black hole: neither angry nor caring, only… empty, as if harboring secrets darker than the night.
"You are disturbing the threshold," he said, almost as a whisper, his voice flat yet laced with threat, creating a palpable tension in the air.
Sister Mirea, the leader of the assassins, whispered something in an ancient language—a glyph summoning the void to absorb beings like Fitran. Her voice echoed like a whispering wind in the dark night, cold and lethal. However, the glyph did not ignite. The concept had ceased to apply around her. Fitran raised one hand, every muscle taut with tension. The reality around Nullis quivered, like the surface of water disturbed by a storm. One by one, they were severed from existence. Not killed. But erased, like paint wiped from a canvas without touching it, leaving behind an eternal emptiness.
Pain and loss saturated the air, clinging to every breath. Sister Mirea attempted to scream, but her voice was seized, lost in the prolonged void. The tongue of her glyph shattered, making a sound like breaking glass, a haunting resonance. Blood streamed from her eyes, then darkened… then vanished, in one and a half motions, as if the entire world disregarded her presence. In less than three seconds, the entire Gaia assassination unit was gone.
Silence returned, suffocating, as if time had stopped. The creeping tension among the shadows made the heart race faster, as if the world held its breath in a chilling uncertainty.
Rinoa was still kneeling, her body trembling with overwhelming anxiety. The sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears, signaling that each passing second brought impending danger closer. Kael and Elena stood frozen, their tension peaking as they watched, while the flickering candlelight from the house cast terrifying shadows on the walls.
Fitran approached Rinoa with slow yet deliberate steps, as if each stride radiated a dangerous aura. His piercing gaze scrutinized her like a predator eyeing its prey. Time seemed to stretch painfully. Rinoa felt his stare penetrate her soul, igniting a deep and indefinable fear. "Your body… does not belong in this world," he said, his voice low and impactful, "You are so incredibly stubborn."
Rinoa did not respond, only staring at him with heavy, rapid breaths. Was it fear? Confusion? Or anger for being rescued from the threatening darkness? Her breathing was shallow and intermittent, as if her entire being was focused on this moment, anxiously awaiting Fitran's reaction.
"You are still in pain," Fitran continued, his tone flat yet filled with strength. "I am helping you, because I don't like seeing you hurt." These words echoed in Rinoa's mind, adding weight to the already tense atmosphere.
"Fitran, why are you always like this? You're nobody to me. Stop worrying about me," her voice was barely audible, stuck in her throat, as if she hoped for an answer that could soothe her soul.
"The world is not in a good place," Fitran explained, his hand gestures illustrating just how serious the situation was. "I don't want you to see all of this. There is no life without you." His words were swallowed by the silence, leaving Rinoa stunned with the realization.
Without waiting for a reply, Fitran turned away, his strides confident and powerful. No farewells, no explanations—just Rinoa and her two friends left trapped in confusion. He disappeared as if swallowed by the darkness, not through teleportation, but like a dry leaf lost in the wind, as though he had never existed.
Afterward, Rinoa sat in silence, enveloped by a sense of helplessness. The tension in the air began to dissipate as Elena slowly approached her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. This touch felt tangible amidst the sea of confusion within her.
"He is not a god," Elena said, her voice gentle yet full of meaning. "But he is older than prayer." Those words resonated with Rinoa, reminding her of her frailty when confronting something greater than herself.
"He could have killed me too..." A deep fear crept into Rinoa, worrying about what might come next.
"But he didn't," Elena reiterated firmly, providing the encouragement she needed to face the deepening fear.
And that night, there were no questions. No plans. Only one haunting reality: Gaia was not merely sending a killer...
But had woken something that must not be touched.