The streets of the undercity stretched before them, a tangled web of cracked pavement and rusting metal. Neon signs flickered weakly overhead, their dying hum blending into the distant whir of machinery from the industrial sector. Buildings, some leaning precariously, loomed over the streets like silent watchers, their graffiti-covered walls telling stories of those who had passed through before.


    The air carried the faint scent of oil and damp concrete, mixing with the ever-present smog that rolled through the alleyways like a ghostly tide. Few people wandered these streets, mostly scavengers, off-duty workers, and the occasional gang member lingering in the shadows. But amidst the lifelessness of the city, Kite, Ava, and Lira moved with an infectious energy, their laughter cutting through the gloom like a beacon.


    Ava smirked, hands on her hips as she walked alongside her friends. “Hey, so like, which one of us should get the pet once we find all the pieces?” she asked, her voice laced with confidence. “I call dibs.”


    Kite chuckled, adjusting his grip on Ray. “Hold on now, we don’t even know where to start!” His tone was light, amusement dancing in his green eyes.


    Lira grinned as she cradled her white robotic baby in her arms. “Yeah, Ava, we don’t even know who the musician is yet.”


    Ava groaned dramatically, tossing her head back. “Fine, fine, we’ll decide afterwards then.” But her grin never faded, her enthusiasm as unshakable as ever.


    A short distance behind them, Rad and Kay trailed in silence. The dim glow of neon lights reflected off the sheen of Kay’s floppy rabbit ears as he walked, his small frame appearing even smaller next to Rad’s. Kay’s oversized sweater hung loosely on him, the sleeves covering his hands as he clutched them together.


    His baggy pants, slightly too big, had been rolled at the cuffs so they wouldn’t drag. The boy had an almost delicate presence, as if a strong enough wind could carry him away.


    Rad, on the other hand, was a stark contrast. His dark red hoodie, worn and slightly torn at the sleeves, hung over his broad shoulders. His boots clunked against the pavement with each step, his posture rigid, arms folded across his chest.


    His eyes remained locked on the group ahead, expression unreadable. Eventually, Kay broke the silence. “Say, Rad? What are you gonna do if you get the pet?” He tilted his head slightly, ears twitching.


    Rad mulled over the question for a moment before a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. “Hmm, I don’t know. Probably have it make like a suit of armor or something.” His eyes gleamed with excitement. “Or a big greatsword. That’d be sick.”


    Kay’s face lit up, admiration sparkling in his eyes. “Ooh, so cool!” he beamed. Rad chuckled and nodded, knowing full well how cool his ideas were. “What about you? What if you get the prize?” He asked, genuinely curious as Kay’s presence eased his mind.


    Kay’s smile faltered slightly, his gaze shifting away. Rad immediately noticed. “Hm?”


    Kay quickly snapped his attention back to Rad, forcing a small laugh. “O-oh! Sorry! Uh, well…” He fidgeted, rubbing his arm. His smile, though still present, carried a nervous edge.


    “If I get the pet,” Kay started softly, “I think I’ll give it to my mom as a gift, you know? I think she’d really like it.”


    Rad’s steps faltered. He stared at Kay, thrown off by the answer. Of all the things he had expected, that wasn’t one of them. His brows furrowed.


    “But… why?” he asked, genuine confusion lacing his voice. “Isn’t she abusive to you? From what I heard, it doesn’t seem like she likes you at all.”


    Kay didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a deep breath, kicking a small rock ahead of them as they walked. His expression, normally shy and hesitant, became oddly calm and stoic. “Yeah, she does hit me constantly and yells at me for the littlest things but…"


    his voice was quiet, almost lost in the distant sounds of the city. “She’s still my mom, and I love her.” Rad immediately fell silent.


    He didn’t know how to respond. His mind churned, trying to make sense of it. Kay’s words defied everything Rad believed. His mere existence challenged Rad’s philosophy. Rad had spent his whole life wanting to escape his mother’s grasp, wanting to prove that she had no control over him, that he didn’t care.


    And yet, here was Kay, kind, timid, small, yet still offering love to someone who had only ever given him pain. It didn’t make any sense at all.


    It was Incomprehensible. It was… admirable. Rad had never thought about it that way. Even now he couldn’t possibly imagine how someone like Kay could exist. How someone so hurt could still be so kind, despite all the pain. It perplexed Rad deeply and struck his very soul.


    Rad shifted uncomfortably, eyes glued to the pavement. A newfound respect bubbling within him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he muttered, “…I see.”


    The words felt hollow, but they were all he had. All he could muster.


    Kay smiled softly, as if Rad’s reaction had been enough. And with that, the two different groups continued further into the undercity, their paths unknowingly intertwined. Bonds, unspoken yet growing, strengthened with each step.


    The group moved deeper into the undercity, their footsteps echoing off the worn pavement as they entered a narrow alleyway wedged between two rusted buildings. The walls were lined with graffiti, some of it just chaotic scribbles, but others held symbols of old gangs or ancient messages from the past. The alley smelled of damp metal and stale air, the only light coming from a flickering neon sign above a broken-down shop.


    Trash littered the ground, and the occasional distant clang of pipes echoed through the alley, making the space feel even more claustrophobic. Rad exhaled sharply, his arms still folded. “You know,” he muttered, “we don’t even know where we’re going.”


    His brown eyes flicked to the others, a skeptical frown settling on his face. “Like, are we just wandering until we bump into some magic guitar piece or something?”


    Ava groaned, throwing her arms up. “Right? That speaker didn’t even tell us where to start!” She scowled, kicking a discarded can. “You’d think if they wanted kids to find this thing, they’d at least give us a clue!”


    Lira crossed her arms, her tail flicking behind her in irritation. “Yeah, this is kinda dumb. How are we supposed to find pieces of something that broke a hundred years ago?”


    Kite sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “Okay, okay, let’s not get all worked up. Maybe if we—”


    Before he could finish, a loud chime cut through the alley. The group immediately fell silent, their eyes snapping toward Kite. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he felt the vibration against his wrist.


    “What was that?” Rad asked, his brows furrowing. Ava leaned in slightly, eyeing Kite’s arm. “Yeah, dude, was that your watch?”


    Kite lifted his wrist, staring at the black device strapped around it. It was an advanced watch that was given to him by the school. a simple yet sleek piece of tech, that had never once acted up like this before. Kite swallowed. "I… think so?"


    Before anyone could respond, the watch let out a deafening BEEP. Then, suddenly, Thick, black gas erupted from the device, pouring out in dense waves. Within seconds, the alley was consumed by darkness, the world around them vanishing into an inky void.


    “What the—?!” Lira gasped, her tail bristling as she instinctively took a step back. “Kite, what did you do?!” Ava yelled, her voice sharp with panic.


    “I—I don’t know!” Kite stammered, his fingers desperately fumbling with the watch as Ray now silently hovered in the air beside him, but the gas wouldn’t stop. Rad cursed under his breath, his body tensing. “I can’t see a damn thing!”


    Kay whimpered softly, his hands clenching at the fabric of his sweater as he stepped closer to Rad. “Where… where are we?”


    The darkness around them swirled like living smoke, shifting, pulsing, almost as if it were breathing. The air grew thick, heavy with something unexplainable. It wasn’t just the absence of light. It was deeper than that.


    And as they stood there, surrounded by the suffocating blackness, an eerie silence fell upon them. A silence that felt… wrong. The group held their breath, their eyes darting around blindly.


    Then, all at once, a holographic figure emerged from Kite’s watch, their flickering glow illuminating the surroundings. The tall figure was clad in a sleek black suit beneath an onyx trench coat with glowing orange accents tracing the seams, giving them an almost digital appearance.


    On their back, emblazoned in striking orange, was the unmistakable orange accented logo of a rook inside an orange ringed circle. While their helmet is a smooth, expressionless surface with expressive glowing eyes.


    Rad’s breath came out slow and measured as his eyes remained locked on the towering holographic figure before them. The eerie orange glow from its glowing seams reflected in his dark eyes, making the smog-filled alley seem even more surreal.


    “What the…” he muttered under his breath. He felt a prickle of unease along his skin, though he refused to let it show. His arms remained firmly crossed, an instinctual defense as the figure’s glowing eyes suddenly curved into exaggerated upside-down D’s, imitating a joyful expression.


    “Congrats!” the figure declared, its voice unnervingly enthusiastic. “Out of thousands of kids—” it gestured grandly with its hands, a holographic shimmer trailing its movement “—you were chosen to find the fabled guitar of legend!”


    The group exchanged skeptical glances, processing the words. While Lira furrowed her brow in cautious curiosity. Ava, never one to let something slide, stepped forward with her hands on her hips.


    “But what about the other kids?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t they in the witch hunt too?”


    For a split second, so fast it was barely noticeable, the figure’s expression wavered, the glowing eyes twitching before seamlessly reforming into their cheerful fa?ade.


    “Oh, do not worry about them,” it reassured, its voice light, almost dismissive. “They were all notified and should be back at their homes shortly.”


    Ray, still hovering beside Kite, narrowed his eyes and scowled silently. He said nothing, but his fingers twitched ever so slightly, the faintest flicker of cosmic energy crackling around them. His aura pulsed for a brief moment, a violet hue briefly cutting through the darkness.


    The lie was so blatant, so forced, that it made Ray’s circuits hum with intense frustration. He knew that there was more to this, and the horrific truth absolutely disgusted him. He could barely contain the blazing rage bubbling within him, threatening to break free at any moment. But he remained still, silent, watching passively despite it all.


    The others, however, seemed to accept the answer. The holographic figure continued, raising a sleek, gloved hand. In an instant, a new projection materialized, an intricate, glowing map, its luminescent blue lines tracing across the air like veins of energy.


    “On this map,” the figure explained, its voice dripping with a false sense of encouragement, “lies the location of all the pieces you must find to piece back together the guitar.” The shimmering map slowly drifted toward Kite, stopping just above his hands. He hesitated before grabbing it, his green pupils scanning the glowing lines and highlighted locations scattered across the undercity, and, more strikingly, Horizon Heights.


    “Shouldn’t be too hard,” the figure continued in a sing-song tone, its eyes shifting once more into a crescent-like mimicry of amusement. “I’m sure you kids will ace this.”


    The cheerfulness In its voice felt mocking. The false encouragement barely concealed the dark, repulsive undertone beneath its words. Rad felt a shiver of unease crawl down his spine, but he bit his tongue.


    Kite, now fully immersed in analyzing the map, barely noticed as the figure spoke again, this time, its tone dropping into something more serious. “Return the guitar to Rook Enterprises once you retrieve it,” the figure stated, its voice now devoid of its earlier amusement. “Then you will receive your reward. Goodbye, for now.”


    And with that, the projection flickered. The black gas surrounding them dissipated like smoke in the wind, revealing the usual dull haze of the undercity once more.


    Silence. The air felt thick, the tension lingering even after the strange encounter had ended. No one spoke. No one moved. They were all still processing what had just happened.


    Then, finally, a soft, hesitant voice broke the quiet. “Why is that baby flying?”


    All eyes turned toward Kay, who stood a few steps behind the group, pointing at Ray, still hovering mid-air beside Kite. His glowing violet aura flickered slightly, illuminating the narrow alleyway.


    Kite turned his head slightly, glanced at Ray, then gave the most deadpan response possible. “Magic trick.”


    Without waiting for a reaction, he turned and began walking forward, the holographic map shrinking into his watch as Ray floated after him in silence. The others exchanged puzzled looks. “I’ve seen weirder things, honestly,” Ava finally said, shrugging before falling into step behind Kite.


    “Same here,” Lira added, as if Kite’s nonchalant attitude was contagious. Rad slightly smirked and gave Kay a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to it.”


    Kay, still visibly confused, hesitated before nodding, though the uncertainty in his eyes remained. “Oh, uh… okay then.”


    And with that, the group moved forward, weaving through the labyrinthine streets of the undercity. The neon lights flickered above them, the distant hum of machinery droning on. Their goal was set, their mission clear.


    But lurking just beyond the corners of their perception, hidden in the shadows of the undercity, was a darkness that none of them could ever hope to fathom. The antique scrap shop was a maze of forgotten history, filled with relics spanning centuries. Every surface seemed to carry the weight of time, from the rusted metal panels to the dim, flickering lights overhead.


    Artifacts of unknown origin sat secured in reinforced glass cases, their surfaces coated in a thin layer of dust. Tiny security drones hovered silently, their red optical lenses scanning for any sign of disturbance, a stark contrast to the ancient atmosphere of the shop. The air smelled of aged metal, old paper, and faint traces of machine oil, making every breath feel like inhaling the past.


    As Kite and his group stepped inside, the rusted bell above the door gave a weak chime before the door shut behind them with a creak. “Whoa, this place looks so old!” Lira exclaimed, her ears perking up as she stepped beside Ava.


    “I know, right?” Ava responded, her pink irises shimmering with curiosity as she marveled at the relics. The two girls exchanged glances before drifting away from the group, drawn in by the peculiar objects encased in glass.


    “Where are you guys going?” Kite called out, noticing their departure.


    “We’ll catch up with you!” Ava shouted back over her shoulder, laughing as she and Lira disappeared between the rows of cases, their excited chatter echoing through the vast shop.


    Kite, Kay, Ray, and Rad came to a stop at the old counter near the back of the store. The surface was covered in layers of dust and grime, the wood beneath barely visible. A small cybernetic spider twitched in the corner, its metallic legs clicking softly as it spun a synthetic web between the shelves.


    Rad wrinkled his nose. “The housekeeping here sucks.”


    Kay gulped as he spotted the spider. His fluffy rabbit ears twitched slightly, and he took an uneasy step back. “Y-yeah, I doubt they get many customers here…”


    Kite and Rad chuckled at his reaction, but their amusement was cut short by a gruff voice from the back room. “I heard that.”


    A figure stepped out from behind a dusty curtain, his footsteps slow but steady. The elderly man had a stocky build with broad shoulders that suggested he had once been much stronger in his youth. His face was deeply lined, with wrinkles carved into his tanned skin like the rings of an ancient tree.


    His graying beard was unkempt, thick but trimmed just enough to keep it from becoming unruly. A pair of old, wire-rimmed cybernetic glasses rested on his nose, their left lens flickering slightly as if the circuitry inside had seen better days. His eyes, sharp and gray like weathered steel, studied the group with a knowing glance.


    He wore a faded brown work vest over a simple black shirt, the fabric worn thin in places. A thick leather belt sat around his waist, carrying an assortment of old tools and a holstered data pad. His pants were reinforced with patches, and his heavy boots clunked against the floor with every step.


    Kay visibly jumped at the sudden voice, letting out a quiet yelp. His wide eyes darted to the man as he quickly blurted out, “Sorry, sir! I didn’t mean it!”


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    “Yeah, right! You little twerp,” the man scoffed with a laugh, shaking his head as he approached the counter. “You the owner?” Kite asked, glancing at the mess around them.


    The old man rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “Sorta, yeah. Me and my wife run the business.”


    Rad frowned, crossing his arms. “What kind of business lets dust pile up everywhere? This place looks like it’ll fall apart any second now.”


    The man let out another sigh but didn’t seem offended. “Well, it ain’t cheap runnin’ an antique shop, ya know. And besides…” His lips curled into a smirk as he gestured to the clutter around him. “I think it adds to the charm, honestly.”


    Before anyone could respond, movement from the far side of the store caught their attention. Ava and Lira reappeared, now walking alongside an elderly woman and two small girls who clung close to her sides.


    The elderly woman had a soft but strong presence, the kind that only came from years of endurance. Her silver hair was neatly braided and tied up into a bun, with a few loose strands framing her warm, yet tired-looking hazel eyes. Though her face was marked with age, her expression held a gentle kindness.


    She wore a faded burgundy shawl draped over her shoulders, the fabric embroidered with intricate golden thread. Beneath it, she had on a simple long-sleeved beige dress that reached her ankles, along with scuffed but well-kept brown boots. A delicate silver chain necklace with an old, rusted pendant hung around her neck.


    The two little girls by her side were no older than eight. They looked nearly identical, suggesting they were twins, though subtle differences set them apart.


    The first girl had wavy auburn hair tied into two messy pigtails, with freckles dotting her round cheeks. She wore a patched-up green dress with a brown cardigan, her small hands gripping the elderly woman’s shawl. Her brown boots were slightly oversized, making her movements clumsy.


    The second girl had straight dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders, her expression more serious than her sister’s. She wore a faded blue jumpsuit with a small tool pouch clipped to her belt, her boots scuffed from wear. Unlike her sister, she stood with a more cautious posture, eyeing the newcomers with quiet curiosity.


    As the group took in the new arrivals, the elderly woman gave them a gentle smile. “So,” she said in a smooth, knowing voice, “you’re the ones stirring up trouble in my husband’s shop.”


    Kite’s soft smile lingered as he watched Ava and Lira play with the two little girls, their laughter filling the otherwise dusty, quiet shop as they walked off into the distance. His gaze shifted back to the elderly couple, his tone respectful as he spoke. “Sorry, ma’am, we didn’t mean to bother you guys.”


    Kay, still shaken from the earlier fright, nodded quickly. “Y-yeah! We just came here for an old relic,” he stammered, rubbing his hands together anxiously.


    The old man and woman furrowed their brows at the mention of a relic. The man, Richard, crossed his arms as his gaze sharpened. “An old relic, you say?”


    “Mhm,” Kite confirmed with a nod. “It’s like a piece of an old guitar, said to belong to a legendary guitarist. You know anything about it?”


    At that, the elderly woman’s expression shifted, her eyes flickering with recognition. “A legendary guitarist?” she repeated, turning toward Richard. “Richard, do you think he means Orion?”


    Richard stroked his chin, deep in thought. His brows knitted together as he hummed. “Nah, can’t be,” he muttered. “I haven’t heard that name in ages. No way these squirts know about him.”


    Rad raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes. “Who is Orion, exactly?”


    At that, Richard let out a heavy sigh, his expression hardening as if the weight of the past had settled onto his shoulders. He pulled out an old stool from behind the counter and sank onto it, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing the worn leather of his vest. The room seemed to darken with his silence before he finally spoke.


    “Orion Vance… now that’s a name I thought I’d never speak of again.” His voice was rough, burdened by time. “He wasn’t just some guitarist, kids. He was a legend. A man who could make the world stop with just the sound of his strings. His music wasn’t just sound, it was rebellion, hope, fire. People followed him not just ‘cause he played like no one else, but ‘cause he believed in something greater.”


    Richard’s eyes took on a distant, haunted look. “Orion was a family man first, though. Had a wife, Clara, and two little girls he loved more than anything.


    They say you’d never see him without one of ‘em clingin’ to his leg or sittin’ on his shoulders. He’d play ‘em songs at night, tell ‘em stories ‘bout a world where people weren’t livin’ under Rook’s damn boot. He wanted more for ‘em.”


    He let out a breath, shaking his head. “That’s why he did what he did.”


    Kite and the others leaned in slightly, hanging onto every word as Richard’s voice dropped lower. “He led a rebellion against Rook. Not just a protest, not just words, an uprising. Orion believed music could spark somethin’ real, that if people saw they weren’t alone, they’d fight. And for a while? It worked. He lit the undercity up like a damn wildfire, had folks standin’ up, refusin’ to bow. It scared Rook. Made him mad.”


    Richard’s jaw clenched as he stared at the ground. “So Rook snuffed it out. Quick. Brutal. Orion’s rebellion failed, and anyone even whispered to be a part of it? They were wiped out.”


    The room went deathly silent. The weight of history pressed down on them, thick and suffocating. Dust swirled lazily in the dim light, as if even the air was reluctant to disturb the moment.


    Rad was the first to break the silence, his voice skeptical yet uneasy. “But… that was a century ago. If Rook was around then, how the hell is he still alive now?”


    Richard exhaled sharply, shaking his head. His next words were grim, carrying the chill of something unnatural.


    “You see, Rook found a way to cheat death. No one knows how, some say he’s got cybernetics replacin’ every inch of him, others say he’s somethin’ else now, somethin’ not even human. But he ain’t aged. Not a damn wrinkle. He’s still here, still watching.”


    Kite swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists at his sides. He hesitated before speaking, his voice quieter now, uncertain. “What… what happened to Orion?”


    Richard took a slow breath before answering. “They got him. Public execution.” His tone was hollow, devoid of the pride that once colored his earlier words. “Rook made sure it was a message. Made everyone watch. Then, one by one, they started takin’ out anyone tied to him. His friends, his allies, didn’t matter if you carried a weapon or not. If you stood with Orion, you died.”


    A deep, crushing silence followed. But Kite wasn’t done. A sick feeling coiled in his stomach, his thoughts racing. His heart thumped violently against his ribs as a dark realization dawned on him.


    His voice was barely above a whisper. “And Orion’s family?”


    The old woman, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. Her voice was softer than Richard’s, but no less burdened by sorrow.


    “Killed,” she murmured. “All of them. No one really knows how they died, but… one day, they just disappeared. Gone, like they never existed.”


    Kite’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted painfully as his mind recalled a single name. Olive, the one who had told him a story eerily similar to this one.


    His voice trembled as it cut through the silence. “Was one of the kids named… Amelia?”


    Richard and his wife froze. Their eyes went wide, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The shock on their faces was answer enough.


    The old woman finally found her voice. “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s correct. How… how do you know that name?”


    Kite’s breath came slow and shaky. His throat tightened, his hands trembling slightly as he forced himself to speak.


    “Because… I met a girl in the undercity,” he admitted, his voice barely above a breath. “She told me a similar story. She said Amelia was kidnapped by Rook.”


    The air In the room felt heavier than ever, as if the weight of Orion’s ghost had settled upon them all. Richard and his wife exchanged another uncertain glance, the weight of the revelation still pressing heavily upon them. They had lived long enough to know when fate had already played its cruel hand.


    “I see…” Richard finally said, his voice laden with quiet resignation. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Though his words were firm, they carried the heavy burden of helplessness, the kind that settles into the bones after a lifetime of loss.


    A brief silence fell over the room, thick and uneasy, before the old woman finally spoke. Her voice was gentle, like the whisper of dust settling on forgotten relics.


    “You know, Richard,” she murmured, turning her soft gaze toward him. “It’s not like we have much use for that guitar piece. We don’t get many customers anymore, anyway.”


    Richard pressed his lips together, his brow furrowing in thought. His fingers drummed lightly against the counter, the rhythmic tapping the only sound in the quiet shop. The children, barely breathing, leaned in slightly, their anticipation hanging in the air like a held breath.


    With a heavy sigh, Richard gave a slow nod. “Yes… you’re right, my dear.” His eyes flickered over the eager faces in front of him. “Maybe these kids can make some use of it.” He pushed himself up from his seat with a soft grunt, stretching his stiff joints as he stood.


    Kite’s face lit up slightly at the response, the corners of his lips tugging into a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, we’ll take good care of it, don’t worry.”


    But Richard only gave a somber smile in return, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze lingered on the children for a moment before shifting toward something, or someone, else.


    The old woman had already begun leading the group deeper into the shop when Richard’s voice stopped them. “…But in return, I’d like a moment with that boy you’re so fond of.”


    The statement was casual, but the way Richard’s eyes locked onto Ray was anything but. His gaze was sharp, studying the floating robotic child with an Intensity that sent an unnatural stillness through the room.


    Ray hovered past him, his glowing optics glowing dimly as he made no effort to acknowledge the man. But when their eyes finally met, a silent battle seemed to unfold between them, neither willing to be the first to break away.


    Ray stopped mid-air immediately. The group halted, Rad raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Kay clutched at his sleeves, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere.


    A faint irritation laced Ray’s voice when he finally spoke. “I have no interest in conversing with you, old man.” His tone was mechanical, yet the disinterest on his face was purely human.


    Kite furrowed his brows in surprise, not used to hearing Ray respond so… bitterly. But before he could question it, Richard let out a low chuckle. It was short-lived, and the weight behind it made it clear that whatever amusement he found was overshadowed by something much heavier.


    “Oh, but I insist…” Richard murmured. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he added, “Empyrean.” The word fell like a stone into a deep, silent lake.


    Ray’s glowing eyes widened, just barely, but the shift was noticeable. Then, just as quickly, they narrowed again, his entire posture shifting into something tenser, something dangerous.


    The room suddenly felt colder, heavier, as if the very space between them had bent under unseen pressure. Rad’s expression darkened in confusion, but it was the old woman who spoke next, her voice filled with worry. “Richard? What’s going on?”


    Richard didn’t take his eyes off Ray, his stance unwavering. His wife knew better than to press further.


    Ray averted his gaze briefly to speak to the group. His voice was flat, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Go on without me. I will be fine.”


    “Wait, but—” Kite started, but his words faltered when Ray turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but something in his stare almost seemed… pleading.


    Kite clenched his jaw, hesitating, but eventually nodded. The old woman glanced between them before finally sighing and leading the children away.


    Ray and Richard stood in suffocating silence as the group disappeared behind the antique shelves, leaving behind only the faintest echoes of their footsteps. Then, in an instant, Ray snapped his head toward Richard with unnatural speed, his violet aura flaring just slightly.


    “Choose your next words carefully.” His voice, while calm, carried an undeniable warning. Richard exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple as he finally moved from behind the counter. “I’m not lookin’ for a fight, kid,” he muttered, walking around the counter. “Not that I’d win one against you.”


    Ray didn’t relax. He hovered forward slightly, his fingers twitching at his sides. “What are you?” he asked bluntly as his glowing eyes bore Richard down.


    Richard let out a dry chuckle. “Nothin’ special, really,” he admitted. “I just see what others can’t. I can see other peoples memories.”


    Ray’s eyes remained locked on him. “Sorcerer?” he asked, voice clipped.


    “Nah. Not trained,” Richard replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. He sighed again, this time more weary than anything. “I just know things.”


    Ray didn’t respond immediately, merely floating there, calculating. Then, after a pause, he finally spoke. “What do you want from me?”


    Richard didn’t answer. Not at first. Instead, he turned slightly, glancing toward the far end of the shop.


    “Let’s take a walk,” he said instead, voice softer. “An old man’s gotta get his exercise.”


    Ray hesitated. His eyes flickered toward the path Kite and the others had gone.


    Richard noticed and quickly added, “It’s not a trap, Ray. I promise.” He turned, beginning to walk. “Your father will be safe.”


    Ray’s expression darkened slightly at the mention of his father, but he didn’t correct him. Instead, he watched Richard walk a few steps ahead, debating whether to follow.


    Finally, cautiously, Ray floated after him, keeping a careful distance. The two walked, or hovered, in Ray’s case, past rows of display cases filled with ancient relics. Artifacts of long-forgotten histories gathered dust beneath glass, untouched and unnoticed by time itself.


    Neither of them spoke at first. Richard walked at a leisurely pace, his old boots making soft taps against the aged wooden floor. Then, after a long, weighted silence, Richard smiled slightly as he gazed upon the various artifacts around him. But it wasn’t a smug smile, nor a teasing one. It was tired.


    He let his fingers graze over the glass of a nearby display case, dust streaking beneath his touch as he peered at the relics inside. Ray hovered beside him in silence, his cosmic aura pulsing faintly with each movement. His expression was unreadable, his violet eye glowing dimly as he observed Richard without a word.


    The old man eventually stopped, tapping a wrinkled finger against the glass. Inside lay an old, rusted mechanical gauntlet, its intricate gears frozen in time, the once-brilliant silver dulled by age.


    “This belonged to a woman named Lysara Vex,” Richard began, his voice thick with nostalgia. “She was a mechanic back in the early days of the undercity’s formation. Built weapons and armor for the defenseless.


    She stood up to slavers, fought against oppression, and made a difference where she could. This gauntlet was the last thing she ever forged before she died protecting a group of automaton orphans from being sold off to the highest bidder.”


    Ray didn’t react. His gaze flickered to the gauntlet, then back to Richard, his expression still as cold as ever.


    Richard sighed but continued walking. He stopped at another case, this one containing an old, faded coat, stitched together with patches of different fabrics. It was frayed at the edges, the once-dark colors now dull and lifeless.


    “Ever heard of Gale Oden?” Richard asked, not expecting an answer. “He was just a wanderer, a man with no home to call his own. But everywhere he went, he left things better than he found them. Gave food to the starving, fought for the weak, and never once asked for anything in return.


    This coat was his only possession, something he gave up in a heartbeat to keep a freezing child warm during the worst winter the undercity had ever seen.” Ray’s response was only silence. His glowing eyes barely even flickered with interest. He floated beside Richard, arms crossed, posture relaxed but closed off.


    Richard exhaled slowly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye before turning forward again. “Funny thing about people like that,” he murmured, running his hand along another case as he walked. “They don’t always make it into history books. No statues, no songs sung about ‘em. But the lives they touched? Those people remember. Their kindness ripples through time, like a stone thrown into a lake.”


    Ray’s expression remained neutral. If those words affected him in any way, he didn’t show it. The two of them turned a corner.


    Ahead of them, in the dim glow of old overhead lights, was a small open space filled with laughter and the sound of tiny feet scuffling against the floor. Lira was crouched low, tail swishing as she grinned mischievously. “Alright, you two better be ready!” she declared, her black-and-white fur bristling with playful energy.


    One of the little girls, brown haired with big, curious eyes, giggled as she clutched Ava’s arm. “She’s gonna pounce!”


    Ava laughed, hands on her hips. “Yeah, yeah, Lira, you think you’re all stealthy, but I got eyes everywhere!” She tapped her temple with a smirk.


    The second little girl, a bit shyer but no less entertained, pointed at Lira. “She’s right there, though,” she said matter-of-factly, her tiny finger giving away Lira’s position.


    Lira gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “You traitor!” she cried, making the children burst into uncontrollable laughter.


    Ava took the opportunity to suddenly scoop up the brown-haired girl and spin her around in the air. “Victory is mine!” she cackled playfully, while the girl shrieked with laughter.


    Lira, unwilling to be outdone, lunged forward and scooped up the other child, holding her up as if she were a prized trophy. “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got this one!”


    The laughter that followed was unfiltered, the kind of innocent joy that was pure and untainted by the weight of the world. Richard watched the scene with a warm, knowing smile, his old eyes glimmering with something deep and nostalgic.


    Ray, however, remained eerily still. His glowing expressionless eyes rested on the group of children, but there was no discernible reaction, no softening of his features, no flicker of emotion. His unreadable expression remained, detached and indifferent, as if he were observing something foreign, something he could no longer understand.


    Richard’s smile lingered as he folded his arms across his chest. His gaze, filled with warmth, never left the children. “I remember holding them in my arms for the first time,” he murmured, his voice touched with nostalgia. “They were so much smaller back then… so fragile. Felt like if I so much as breathed wrong, they’d just disappear.”


    Ray remained silent, his mechanical joints shifting slightly as he hovered beside the old man. His gaze flickered between Richard and the playing children, but his face betrayed nothing.


    Richard chuckled softly. “You know, for the longest time, they wouldn’t go to sleep unless I sat beside them. Said there was a monster in the closet.” He shook his head, a fond amusement in his tone. “Every night, I’d sit there and wait until they finally drifted off. Even after they stopped believing in the monster, they still wanted me there… just in case.”


    The laughter of the children continued to fill the air, carefree and oblivious to the weight hanging over Ray and Richard. Then, Richard’s expression changed, just slightly. The smile faded at the edges, replaced by something more somber. “Their parents died when they were young,” he said quietly. “It was… hard on them. But my wife and I? We were there for them. We’re practically their family now.”


    Ray’s patience wavered. His cold, unreadable expression shifted just enough to show the smallest flicker of frustration. “What is the point of all this?” he asked, his voice flat, but edged with irritation.


    Richard exhaled slowly. His shoulders sagged, the warmth in his face giving way to something heavier. He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he let his gaze linger on the children, his lips pressing together in a tight line.


    Then, finally, he spoke. “My family is going to be on that space station,” he said, his voice quieter now, filled with a grim knowingness. His eyes shimmered, his emotions barely held at bay.


    Ray didn’t react. His cold, detached stare remained unwavering. “Yes, I am aware,” he stated indifferently. “They die brutally at the hands of my father.”


    The words landed like a punch to the gut. Richard visibly winced, his body tensing, his breath catching in his throat. He turned his head slightly, but he didn’t look at Ray. He didn’t have to. The weight of those words alone was enough.


    Ray, however, remained unfazed, his tone still as hollow as ever. “If you read my memories, if you’ve seen my past, then you know that this is inevitable.”


    Richard clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His gaze flickered downward for a moment, toward the floor, toward nothing at all.


    Ray turned his head, looking at the children again. Their laughter continued, unaware of the grim conversation happening a distance away. His voice, when it came, was quieter this time. Almost like he was speaking more to himself than to Richard.


    “There is no other way.” A tense silence followed his words.


    Richard sniffled, rubbing his eye roughly with the heel of his hand. His voice hitched slightly when he finally spoke. “No. What I do know is that you can only predict the future.” His words were quiet, almost desperate. “You don’t know for sure that this needs to happen.”


    Ray remained unmoved but his fingers twitched slightly. “If that were true, do you really believe I would be here now?” His tone was colder now, sharper. “That I would willingly throw everything away, everything I’ve ever cared about, because of a fucking prediction?”


    Richard didn’t answer immediately. He simply stared at Ray, all the warmth from before drained from his face.


    Then, softly, he said, “I do.” Ray’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, the first real shift in his expression.


    “You’re deeply hurt, Ray,” Richard continued, his voice steady, but heavy. “Hopeless, even.” Ray’s cybernetic mouth opened slightly, his confusion deepening.


    “And I know that the old you would have done everything he could to prevent this. To save my family.”


    Something inside Ray snapped as he heard this. “Didn’t you hear a word I said!?” His voice thundered through the antique shop, his cosmic aura flaring violently. The air around them crackled with energy, the floor trembling beneath the force of it.


    The laughter stopped. The children nearby quickly turned, startled, their eyes wide as they looked toward the source of the outburst. Ava and Lira’s ears perked up in alarm, their playful grins vanishing in an instant.


    But Richard didn’t so much as flinch. He stood firm, staring at Ray with an expression that was not fearful, but… pitying.


    “…There’s always another way, Ray,” Richard murmured. His voice was quiet, but resolute. “You knew that better than anyone.”


    He turned away then, walking past Ray without another word. Ray’s entire body tensed in anger, his cosmic aura flickering violently around him. His mechanical fingers clenched into a shaking fist, his violet cybernetic eye burning like a dying star.


    He quickly lifted his hand. A heartbeat passed. His trembling palm pointed toward Richard’s back, his fingers spread wide, cosmic energy crackling at his fingertips.


    He could end this now. Blow this entire shop to oblivion. Leave behind no trace of his own existence.


    A single blast. A single moment could end it all. But his arm… It wouldn’t move.


    The energy slowly faded. His black palm slowly lowered to his side, fingers curling in on themselves. His aura dimmed, flickering before vanishing entirely.


    Richard kept walking. While Ray remained where he was, shaking, his gaze locked onto the floor, his entire being etched with turmoil. completely alone.