"Rover..."
"...Rover..."
Stirred by the worried voices of Yangyang and Kyorin, Rover slowly came to, her eyelids fluttering as she blinked, a faint frown creasing her brow. She gave her head a slight shake, trying to clear the lingering haze.
"What's the matter?" Yangyang asked with concern, reaching out to check her temperature. "Are you alright?"
"I..." Rover murmured, her voice faint and clouded by the remnants of her vision, "I had a vision."
"A vision?" Kyorin echoed, watching as Rover gave a small nod. "I think I may have resonated with a Tacet Discord."
Without delay, Rover explained that she'd experienced a vision — almost as if she were seeing through the eyes of a Tacet Discord — witnessing a battle unfolding in the Norfall Barrens.
In that vision, she saw General Jiyan, commander of the Midnight Rangers and bearer of the Qingloong emblem, leading the charge.
Both Yangyang and Kyorin listened with interest, though a flicker of concern crossed Kyorin's mind. These kinds of shared visions sometimes carried side effects.
But observing Rover — steady, no signs of overclocking, no irregularities in her demeanor — he chose to let the matter rest for now.
Rover also spoke of a mysterious woman in red who seemed to command the Tacet Discords. Yangyang speculated that the woman might be affiliated with the Fractsidus.
She suggested the vision could very well be real, especially considering their closeness to the front lines, and hinted that something unusual might be occurring — both on the battlefield and within the Streams of Norfall.
Rover admitted that something within her seemed to resonate with the Tacet Discords, and that she'd begun hearing a persistent voice inside her.
However, Yangyang couldn't pick up any frequencies from it. Rover theorized that, whatever it was, she might be the only one to hear it.
Kyorin, meanwhile, remained silent. Though it didn't seem entirely implausible to him, he chose to keep his thoughts to himself.
"Rover?" Yangyang called out, noticing the deep furrow in Rover's brows — a look that signaled she was piecing something together.
"According to Baizhi," Rover began, her voice steady as she followed the thread of her thoughts, "the leaf showed residual fluctuations from Tacet Discords."
She held the leaf in her hand as she continued, "Those fluctuations traced back to a specific set of coordinates."
"And that is..." Yangyang murmured, pulling out her Terminal to display the said coordinates, "Qichi Village, in the Central Plains."
***
Nestled in the scarred heart of the Central Plains, Huanglong, Qichi Village lingers like a ghost — its silhouette a memory of what was once a humble, thriving settlement.
The white-plastered, blue-tiled houses — now chipped and listing — teeter on fractured stone foundations, mute witnesses to the seismic violence that split the land like an old wound.
Pale violet flora creeps across the earth like smoke, curling through broken walls and hollow doorways, softening the ruins with a beauty too quiet to trust.
At the village's heart pulses a Tacet Field — a X-shaped landmark where Resonance Cord light twists skyward like a snapped divine tendon.
This luminous thread, endlessly turning, seems to tether the shattered earth to a realm not meant for human eyes — a place where Tacet Discords are said to be born.
The air thrums with dissonance, subtle but unrelenting, as though the land itself still remembers every scream it once held.
No birds sing in Qichi. Only the low reverberation and the rustle of disturbed leaves break the hush. The Tacet Field has hollowed more than stone and soil — it has fractured memory, bent time, leeched emotion from the very air.
Travelers speak in hushed tones, few daring to cross the village's edge. Those who do find more than ruins. They find a place where the past refuses to stay buried — a monument to untended grief, to stories the world forgot to mourn.
A similar feeling stirred within Kyorin, Rover and Yangyang, now standing before a Tacet Discord unlike any they had encountered.
It loomed — spherical, bloated, like a drowned star fallen from grace, its violet skin stretched thin over pulsing, quivering flesh.
Its surface was disturbingly smooth, like a malformed fruit on the verge of bursting. Stubby limbs twitched with stilted effort, as if motion itself were a borrowed idea — an imitation of life, not life.
Two curved horns jutted from its head, aglow with a poisonous gradient of neon violet, pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat not its own.
From the torn slit of a mouth came no sound. Yet its presence emitted a low, vibrating hum — felt more than heard — like mourning whispered through waterlogged stone.
Its back was jagged and asymmetrical, spiked as though reality had tried and failed to erase its shape.
Beneath it all, something gleamed faintly — a fragment of golden plating near its underbelly — it was a Tacet Core.
And this TD, was known as a Tick Tack, a Common Class Whisperin TD widely distributed in the wild. But this Tick tack, it was different.
It did not attack. It simply stood — bloated and trembling, a grotesque echo of existence — whispering in a voice barely louder than the wind: "Ugh… uh? Uhh…"
A ripple of unease coursed through the air.
"Watch out!" Yangyang snapped upright, her arm instinctively shielding Rover and Kyorin. Her gaze flicked to the TD which hid in the ruin grounds, but again — it simply hid, and not attack. "Something's wrong. Why hasn't it attacked?"
The thing shifted — not to strike or flee, but merely to breathe, to tremble. Then, it spoke again, voice like static filtered through a cracked speaker: "Nngh… brother… Help… Help…"
Rover's brows furrowed. The unease in her chest twisted, giving way to... pity? Or was it empathy?
"It's not attacking," she murmured. "Is it… trying to talk to us?"
The Tacet Discord repeated its broken litany, voice locked in an endless loop. "Help… Brother… Help…"
Yangyang's eyes softened, confusion giving way to something tender, kinder.
"It's only muttering the same thing," she said gently. "This isn't like the others…"
She stepped forward, crouching cautiously beside the creature.
"Tacet Discords usually attack the living." She muttered, her voice evident with confusion of this strangeness. "They feed on frequencies to stabilize their form. When those frequencies recombine, a new Discord is born."
She paused. Her voice falling to a whisper. "This one… it probably devoured human frequencies."
Her hand brushed the creature's oddly soft crown. Its skin twitched beneath her touch — but did not retaliate.
"Maybe," she said, voice trembling, "these words aren't from the Discord itself. Maybe they're what's left of someone. Their final thoughts. The last trace of their pain."
A long silence stretched between them. Dust swirled in the breeze. Nothing else moved, yet the tension was palpable.
Yangyang pressed her palm to the creature's head, tuning herself to the Streams. Her brows knit, her eyes began to glisten.
"…I'm sorry," she whispered.
Rover stepped closer. "Are you talking to it?"
Kyorin, too, found himself intrigued by this Tacet Discord that could speak in human language. It was unlike anything he'd encountered before, and that novelty alone was enough to capture his attention.
"No," she replied, shaking her head slowly. "I'm not that skilled. But I can feel something… a tangled knot of emotion. Grief, fear… and longing. Like it's waiting."
She looked up at them. "I think I understand now."
Rover nodded. "Go on."
Kyorin also strained his ears.
"It's not crying for itself. It's not asking us to help it. It's mourning this place," Yangyang said, her voice thick with sorrow. "Everyone who once lived here. The entire village is still echoing through it — pleading, aching to be remembered."
The Tacet Discord slumped forward, as if in mournful agreement.
"Something terrible happened here," she continued. "And it wasn't long ago. The traces are still fresh in the Streams."
Rover's gaze lingered on the creature. "This place was hidden for a reason."
Yangyang nodded. "The Tacet Field masked it. Or maybe… someone didn't want it ever found."
She stood, solemn and still. "We have to keep going. There may be survivors. Or at least… the truth. Someone involved is close — I can feel it."
She glanced toward Jinzhou. "I'll inform Chixia. But if we wait for a full investigation, it might be too late."
Then, quietly, almost shyly, she added, "I know I don't have proof. It's just… a feeling."
"I believe you," Rover said, her voice reassuring. "Jinhsi's token had led us here. That's enough proof."
Yangyang gave her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Rover. Please stay vigilant."
Her gaze returned to the Discord.
"And this little one…" she whispered, brushing a trembling hand across its rounded body, "let's leave it be."
With that, the two went on to look for more clues while Kyorin simply gazed at the creature for a moment before smiling at it, "You seem rather gentle, truly a first of a kind I have seen."
He gently patted it, yet the instance his hands touched its smooth surface — psst — his Tacet Mark slightly flared up before his eyes began to slightly morph.
A faint outline of a lotus symbol shimmered across his eyes as scattered fragments flickered within the vision. In that moment, time itself seemed to bend—no longer flowing as it should.
For an instant, his perception pierced beyond the monstrous distortion's outward form. What he saw instead was a small, delicate girl, her eyes brimming with tears, lips trembling as she mouthed silent words.
"...It... it hurts..."
"The... voices... in my..."
"...head... make them..."
"Stop... please..."
"Help... me..."
Hundreds — there were hundreds of memories fused within the girl, forming a chaotic amalgamation.
She had become a vessel for these foreign echoes, each memory clawing for shelter within the fragile remains of her trembling consciousness.
Kyorin's expression tightened with sorrow as he whispered, "Apologies... I cannot help you," his voice low and heavy with regret. "Seems I'm not the only one enduring the onslaught of voices that don't belong... yet refuse to fade."
His patting turned soft — gentle, like a mother comforting a frightened child. In that fleeting moment, he found a strange kinship in this withering existence, this fragment of sentience teetering on the edge of collapse.
"I'm truly sorry," Kyorin whispered again. "I cannot help you," he said as he slowly rose to his feet.
While he and the TD shared that quiet pain — the burden of one's memories being overrun by the lives of others.
Rover and Yangyang had ventured deeper into the ruins of Qichi. The air grew thick, almost suffocating, heavy with the lingering scent of scorched stone and an ancient grief that had never found peace.
Yangyang came to a sudden halt. Her boots crunched over a scattered pile of charred, brittle cards, half-buried beneath a layer of ash. Her eyes widened as she crouched, fingers brushing away the soot.
"These cards..." she murmured, her voice tight with recognition. "I see..."
She stood, brows knitting sharply. "The Fractsidus is likely behind all of this."
Rover turned toward her, unease rising in her chest. "The Fractsidus?"
"Yes," Yangyang nodded, her tone grim. "I don't know the full extent, but as an Outrider, I've been involved in cases tied to them. They're extremists — obsessed with merging humans with Tacet Discords."
She didn't need to say how horrific that was. The frown tugging at Rover's temples said enough. There was disgust there — but also a flicker of something else. Recognition of such actions as being born from desperation.
"They've carried out terror attacks across the globe," Yangyang continued. "Always from the shadows. By the time you realize they were involved, it's already too late. Even in Jinzhou, we've found traces — left by their foot soldiers, the Artificers."
Her voice chilled. "Above them are the Overseers. Twisted leaders with monstrous abilities and motives we still can't decipher. Some want to destroy the world. Others… crave unending power."
She paused, her fist clenching tightly. "And then there's one Overseer... someone even the others fear."
Her voice dropped low, stretched taut like a wire ready to snap. "Among them, there's one… particularly insane."
She looked away, scanning the scorched earth as if just recalling him made her skin crawl. "Even by Fractsidus standards, he's considered deranged."
Rover's eyes sharpened, her lips parting, though she said nothing.
Yangyang pressed on — more to herself now, like she was dredging up details long buried in reports. "A man who thrives in chaos. Who sees no order, no value in peace. Only destruction."
Her gaze fell on the blackened cards. "I've seen these before. Back at HQ. They matched one case—one that made even the most seasoned investigators leave the room without a word."
A beat passed. Then, with a breath she seemed to brace for, Yangyang spoke his name. "They call him... Scar."
She looked Rover square in the eye. "If he's the one behind this... then this wasn't just a massacre." Her voice quivered — just slightly. "It was a performance. And the village... it was his stage."
She exhaled, shadow clinging to her words. "If this was his work, we're facing someone capable of cruelty beyond reason."
Rover's hands had curled into fists without her even noticing. Yangyang placed a steady hand on her arm. "Let's look further. But carefully."
Rover gave a sharp nod. "Yeah. Let's."
They combed through the ruins in silence, the wind whispering around them like the breath of long-departed ghosts. Then — something rustled in the bushes.
Yangyang stilled. Her hand hovered close to her weapon as she sneaked towards the noise, extending her other hand. From the bush, a small, scruffy cat emerged, blinking up at them with sleepy indifference.
Rover let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her shoulders eased, and Yangyang allowed herself a soft, amused laugh.
But the moment lasted but for an instant.
Without warning, the very fabric of space behind her twisted.
A door — black, ominous, and unnatural — peeled into existence from the air like a ripple reversing its course. It opened soundlessly behind Yangyang, and a violent suction burst outward, pulling with terrifying force.
There was no time to scream.
Yangyang staggered, releasing the cat as she was dragged into the strange void.
At that exact moment, Kyorin had just stood, finished with his quiet moment beside the TD — whether it meant something or not. As he turned to leave, a similar door snapped open beneath his feet.
He fell without warning — vanishing into the dark with the strange Tacet Discord alongside him.
Back to Rover, who had witnessed Yangyang get pulled into an unknown space she reached for her, but it was hopeless.
She was too far — and it was happening far too fast. Yangyang was completely swallowed by the mysterious door, which vanished moments later, leaving Rover alone as she cried out.
"Yangyang..."
"...Kyorin...?"
But only silence answered her, and as she looked around, panic surged across her face.
Then a voice rang out — thick with theatrical delight. "Guess you won't need my self-introduction. Aww, I spent so much time on it."
Rover turned to see a madman casually shuffling black cards in his hands, scattering them into the air with a dramatic shrug. He looked at her with a wild, manic grin, as those black cards ignited around him.
A man stood atop a crumbling rooftop — looming, ominous, impossible to ignore, and wrapped in menace. Crimson garments hung off him like chaos personified.
His hair, a jagged mess of white and red, flared wildly. Scars slashed across his face like cruel punctuation marks. One eye blazed a wicked red; the other was a flat, unreadable gray.
Had Kyorin been there, he would have recognized him instantly — it was the same deranged figure who had attacked him just the day before.
The man leapt down from the rooftop, landing before Rover. She instinctively took a step back.
"You are... Scar?" she asked.
Scar made no effort to conceal his identity. "If you need to hear it from me, then... yes, I am Scar." He gave a mockingly courteous bow. "I am indeed that — cruel and twisted maniac."
"Where is Yangyang? What have you done to Kyorin?" Rover demanded, her voice sharp with fury.
Scar only smiled. "We deserve a meeting free of such disturbances, don't you agree?"
"That girl... and that boy..." he sneered. "They'll only cloud your judgment."
"Give them back to me!" Rover snapped, her sword forming in her hand, ready to be drawn.
"Aww, so you really care about them." Scar's smirk widened as he chuckled at her distress. Then, with feigned reassurance, he added, "Don't worry, I don't plan on making you hate me just yet... They're safe — for now."
Rover didn't believe a word of it. Not even for a second.
But Scar couldn't have cared less whether she believed him or not. He continued casually, voice light and unbothered, "Well, let's just enjoy our time together for the moment."
"Forget about that irrelevant person, will you?" he said with a mock-pleading tone. "I have a lot to share with you."
"To begin with..." He closed the distance between them, his body leaning slightly forward, head tilted up so his eyes met hers. "I heard you've lost your memories?"
Rover didn't respond — but the faint tremble in her eyes was all the confirmation Scar needed.
'So it's true,' he thought.
"Were you following me?" Rover asked, a sharp suspicion rising in her chest — the same strange sensation she'd felt yesterday on her way to the City Hall.
"So you noticed?" Scar grinned, his eyes lighting up with delight. "Aww, I'm flattered."
Rover shifted slightly, now fully prepared to draw her sword at a moment's notice.
"No need to be so tense," Scar said with a sigh of exaggerated exasperation. "By now, you should've figured it out — I'm just one of the onlookers."
"But out of all the onlookers," he continued, surprisingly sincere for someone like him, "I'm the only one who stepped forward to meet you — with absolute honesty."
"Hah!" Rover scoffed. "That's a good joke," she said flatly. "If Kyorin had said those words, maybe I would have believed them..."
Her eyes narrowed, cold and sharp. "But not from someone who knows my past."
She recalled what Kyorin had told her — or rather, the meaning behind his words. 'Don't be swayed. Don't trust anyone who knows about your past, unless you feel safe. Never let them gain the upper hand.'
"Oh? So there's something special about that boy?" Scar mused aloud, a glint of interest in his eye. 'Maybe I should investigate him...'
"Answer my question first," Rover snapped.
Scar chuckled, low and amused. "Hehe... indeed. I'll tell you then."
He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Before you even knew anything about this world," Scar said, "you were already at the center of its conflicts."
"You're the unknown variable — the one we've all been waiting for," Scar declared, spreading his hands with dramatic flair. "Forces are battling to claim control over you."
"From the moment you opened your eyes, everyone you met..." He nodded toward the direction where Yangyang had disappeared. "Even that girl — they all knew exactly how valuable you are."
"Maybe that boy knew too," Scar guessed, but Rover shook her head. "Sounds impossible."
"Oh, you seem to trust that boy," Scar remarked with interest. "Tell me — what does he have that makes someone like you believe him?"
"Honesty," Rover replied as if it were obvious.
Scar smiled. "I'm being honest, too."
"Too bad," Rover sneered. "I'm talking about honesty born of innocence." She spat the words at Scar. "Honesty out of obligation — how long will it last once the goal is fulfilled?"
Scar's brow twitched slightly at her mockery, but he said nothing, unwilling to lie outright... not yet.
"The world is cruel, Rover. You may be flesh and blood, but to many, you're just a piece on the board." He paused, then offered a rare glimpse of sincerity.
"That's why I'm here," Scar said softly. "Because we see you as more than that — as a dear friend. And I want you to share in the truth."
His smile dimmed. "I'm so, so sorry for everything you're about to face."
Then, in a low voice: "...But truth hurts sometimes."
Rover narrowed her eyes. "As if you're any different."
Scar chuckled. "Heh. I figured you wouldn't be someone swayed by pretty words."
Rover shot back, "You're just trying to drag me to your side."
"You could say that," Scar replied, flashing a grin. "I'm looking forward to your choice."
He shrugged lightly, exhaling softly. "My goal's simple: to deepen our mutual understanding. Nothing more."
"Come on, Rover. Take a moment. Look around." He gestured broadly. "As you uncover more of this world, your true desires will begin to surface. And when that happens... well, our little game will get a lot more interesting."
A shadow flickered in his voice as he added, "And until then, I won't let anyone interrupt my precious alone time with you."
Crack — Crack — Shatter
To be continued...
***
A/N: Man I had a blast last night. Spent time playing these games to take inspiration form and developing skill set for Kyorin. Here is a tad spoiler about the inspirations.
Also, should I bring her (OC) back or not? Or should I let the TD disappear like in the original story?