Marlowe's Restaurant – Late Night
The neon "Marlowe's" sign flickered off and on, casting a weak glow over the near-empty parking lot. The two-story building loomed over the quiet downtown street, its long shadow stretching beneath the dim streetlights. A few cars remained parked along the perimeter, their owners long gone.
The last customer of the night stumbled out of the restaurant, barely managing to stay upright as he disappeared into the night. Inside, the place was nearly silent, save for the faint scraping of a broom across the floor.
Lyra stood behind the counter, wiping it down with practiced ease, while her son, Zayn, swept up the remnants of the night's business.
Dio pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm heading out."
Lyra paused mid-wipe, turning toward him with a concerned frown. "You're not seriously walking home alone this late, are you?"
Dio met her gaze, unreadable as always. "It's fine."
Lyra huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Fine? What would your parents think about you wandering around at this hour?"
Dio's expression remained neutral, but his voice was blunt. "They wouldn't care."
Her lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the flat response. "That's... that's some irresponsible parenting," she muttered, before realizing her mistake. The words had left her mouth before she could stop them.
Dio's gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, then he let out a small, almost imperceptible smile. "It's okay."
Something about that smile left both Lyra and Zayn momentarily stunned—just enough that they didn't even notice him already making his way to the door.
Lyra snapped out of it first. "Wait, why don't you stay here for the night?" she offered, stepping forward. "You shouldn't be out after dark. That's when the monsters show up."
Dio turned slightly at that, raising an eyebrow. "Monsters?"
"She means rift monsters and unchained they, usually roam at night," Zayn chimed in, leaning on his broom. "But Dio's strong! You should've seen him in the alleyway—he—"
"Zayn," Lyra cut in sharply, shooting her son a look.
Zayn shrugged but said nothing else.
Dio exhaled, already sensing Lyra's hesitation. She clearly didn't want him to leave, but she also knew he wasn't going to accept her offer.
"I'll go straight home," he lied smoothly.
Lyra studied him, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. Finally, she sighed and relented. "Just… be careful, alright? And don't talk to strangers."
Dio nodded, acknowledging her words, then gave Zayn a brief nod before pushing open the door and stepping out into the night.
The neon sign buzzed faintly as it flickered, casting his silhouette into the darkness before he vanished down the street.
Neo Kyoto – Late Night
The neon "Marlowe's" sign buzzed faintly as Dio stepped out, his silhouette vanishing into the city's restless glow. Despite the deserted atmosphere of the restaurant, the streets of Neo Kyoto were never truly silent.
Dio walked the slick, neon-lit streets, his black boots splashing through shallow puddles that mirrored the towering skyline. The rain had stopped half an hour ago, but the scent of ozone and damp pavement still clung to the air.
Above, holographic billboards flickered and distorted, selling cybernetic enhancements, high-tech combat gear, and off-market stimulants. Towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, their glass facades reflecting the neon chaos below.
The city pulsed with life. Office workers in tailored suits brushed past street punks in tech-woven jackets, the glow of their augmented visors flickering in the dim light. A group of Beast Warriors loitered near a ramen stand, their sharp eyes tracking movement with predatory ease. Dio ignored them.
Drones hovered above, their red optics sweeping across the crowd, cross-referencing identities against the city's vast databases. Dio kept his head down, his white hair still damp from the rain. His jacket clung to him, water trailing from his cuffs. Even in the ever-moving streets of Neo Kyoto, he stood out—too still, too quiet, too composed.
Somewhere down an alley, a deal was going down. He heard the whispers, the subtle exchange of Void Dust packets for hard credits. The city never truly slept. It simply shifted, adapted, and waited.
Dio walked on.
Then, something changed.
At first, it was just a feeling—a whisper at the edge of his awareness. Someone was watching him. Following him.
He didn't react. Not immediately.
Instead, he turned down a narrow alleyway, his pace steady, his back still turned to the entrance. The hum of the city seemed to fade behind him, drowned out by the soft patter of footsteps trailing in his wake.
Then, he stopped.
The footsteps followed.
A familiar, greasy laugh echoed through the alley.
"Hey, kid. How's it going?"
Dio didn't turn.
"You remember me, don't you?"
He didn't need to look. He already knew who it was.
Shags. The same low-life thug Dio had humiliated before, the one who had been extorting Zayn for protection money.
Shags stepped forward, and this time, Dio could hear the extra footsteps behind him—five more men.
"Hah!" Shags barked out another laugh, this one colder, angrier. "Yeah, you got me real good last time, you little shit. You know how much I've been mocked for running away from a kid? You disrespected me, boy. And now, I'm gonna show you that nobody—"
He took another step forward, but Dio finally spoke.
"You're not the one I'm waiting for."*
Shags froze.
"Huh?"
Then—screaming.
The five men behind Shags convulsed violently, their bodies seizing as if an invisible force had grabbed hold of them.
Their screams turned to wet gurgles. Their bodies twitched, twisted—then imploded.
Blood.
It splattered across the alley walls, painting the concrete in thick, wet streaks. Shags stood there, completely drenched in blood, his hands trembling as he stared down at his now-bloody palms.
"Wha—what is this?!"
He stumbled back, horrified, his breathing sharp and ragged.
Then, footsteps.
Calm. Measured. Approaching from the alley's entrance.
A voice followed, smooth and amused.
"Impressive."
Dio
A smooth voice, laced with amusement.
Shags and Dio turned their attention toward the newcomer.
A man stood at the alley's entrance, completely untouched by the chaos around him. He was tall and slim, his striking red eyes gleaming beneath messy black hair. His pale skin contrasted against the flawless crimson suit he wore, gold buttons glinting in the dim light. A crisp white collar peeked from underneath, and pristine white gloves covered his hands.
Not a single stain marked him. Not a wrinkle out of place.
He didn't belong here. And yet, somehow, he owned the scene.
One hand rested in his trouser pocket, while the other hung loosely at his side. His polished black dress shoes barely made a sound as he stepped forward.
"Not many people can detect when I'm tailing them," he said, his smile never wavering. "Especially not a twelve-year-old boy."
Dio's voice was emotionless. "You weren't hard to find. Not dressed like that."
The man chuckled. Amused. Unbothered.
Shags, still covered in his gangs blood, was trembling. His breath came in heavy, panicked gasps. He felt trapped—the alley was a dead end, and this man... this thing had killed his men without lifting a finger was blocking the only exit.
"Sir... please..." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man didn't even look at him.
Then - Splat
Shags imploded.
His body burst apart in an instant, his remains adding to the already gruesome scene.
The man let out a tired sigh. "What a nuisance." He didn't even glance at the fresh mess. Instead, he turned his attention back to Dio, his red eyes gleaming with intrigue.
"Are you wondering who I am?"
Dio's grip on his sword didn't tighten. His voice didn't waver. "No."
The man chuckled again. "Not a very talkative one, are you? Fine. Let's get straight to the point." "You killed Umbra," the man mused. "Cut his head clean off—" he made a slicing motion with his gloved fingers, "—brutal and efficient. Now, normally, people who do that to one of ours? They disappear. Their bodies are never found." "But you..." The man tilted his head slightly. "You're not normal are you? A twelve year old child awakener, hah,You're an anomaly, an anomaly among anomalies."
A smirk pulled at his lips. "That's why we want to recruit you."*
Dio didn't respond.
"Mind you," the man continued, his tone still light but dripping with certainty, "this isn't up for discussion."*
Dio's red eyes locked onto his. "Or else?"
The man took a step forward, and the blood around the alley began to rise, hovering in midair. The liquid twisted and solidified into sharp, deadly spikes. "Well...you die."
The blood spikes shot toward Dio like a storm of crimson lances, their sharp tips gleaming under the dim alley lights.
But already in motion, Dio dodged.
Nullifying the effects of gravity on his body, he launched himself sideways, weaving between the projectiles with inhuman speed. The blood spears slammed into the ground, but Dio was already moving.
Dio launched upward.
Flipping midair, he unsheathed his sword.
BOOM.
Like a missile he shot down, blade gleaming.
The man's eyes widened slightly as Dio rocketed downward like a missile, his sword gleaming in the dim alley light. Fast.
But the moment before impact, the blood around the man surged and solidified—a crimson shield forming just in time to intercept the devastating strike. CLANG! Dio's blade slammed into the hardened blood barrier, sending a shockwave through the alley. The barrier remained strong. The blood barrier surged as tons of sharp blood spears shot out of it but Dio was faster dodging while moving backwards, and
Using his sword to cut down the remaining.
The man's eyes flickered with surprise as Dio's blade sliced through the blood spears, cutting them down with ease.
Then, his gaze landed on the weapon.
His smirk grew wider.
"That's Umbra's sword, isn't it?"
Dio said nothing.
The man let out a low, amused laugh. "Good. Very good."
With a casual gesture,the blood in the alley way surged and shot toward Dio's feet—attempting to grab hold and lock him in place.
At the same time,the blood shield melted into a torrent of liquid taking of a massive crimson blade in his hand, its surface shimmering with a deadly sheen. "Let's see if you can dodge this!" He lunged forward, swinging the sword down with terrifying speed and force, aiming to cleave Dio in half.
Planting his sword into the ground, Dio gripped the hilt with one hand for support. He swung his leg forward, using the blade as leverage to propel a powerful kick. The blood shackles managed to snare the sword's tip, but Dio was already in motion.
CLANG!
His leg slammed into the massive blood blade, sending a sharp vibration through the air. The force disrupted the man's control for a split second, making the crimson weapon waver. But Dio wasn't done—his momentum carried him forward, twisting his body into a brutal roundhouse kick aimed straight at the man's head.
The man's eyes flickered with recognition—he had underestimated Dio's fluidity. At the last second, he tilted his head back, the kick whistling past his face by mere inches.
"Tch... Not bad."
With unnatural flexibility, he twisted his body, his free hand flashing forward. His white-gloved fingers shot toward Dio's extended leg, aiming to snatch his ankle mid-spin and slam him into the blood-soaked ground
The moment the man's gloved fingers clamped around Dio's ankle, something shifted. A sudden weightlessness overtook him—his balance flickered.
"What—?"
For a split second, his body lifted unnaturally, gravity slipping from his grasp. But instead of flailing, he adjusted instinctively, twisting mid-air with practiced precision.
That was all the opening Dio needed.
With a sharp twist, he slipped free, flipping backward in a seamless arc. His fingers clenched around his sword, yanking it from the blood shackles in one smooth motion. The crimson bindings strained for a fraction of a second before snapping loose.
Dio landed in a low crouch, sword gleaming in his grip. Across from him, the man touched down lightly—his movement controlled but forced. He slid back a few feet, boots scraping against the blood-slick alley floor.
For a brief moment, neither spoke. Then, the man exhaled a quiet chuckle.
"Hah… now that was clever," he mused, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his suit. "You're not just fast—you're tactical."
He let out a short amused laugh "You're full of surprises, kid."
Then, with a smirk, he turned his back to him, the tension in the alley dissipating like it had never existed.
As he walked away, his polished black shoes barely making a sound on the blood-soaked ground, he raised a hand in a lazy wave.
"Goodbye, kid."
His voice carried through the alley, smooth and certain.
"And remember..." He didn't even look back. "You're one of us now. The Eclipse Rising."*
A chuckle escaped him, filled with amusement and something else—certainty.
"I have high hopes for you. Till we meet again."
And just like that, he disappeared into the night, leaving Dio alone in the alley, surrounded by the aftermath of their brief yet deadly encounter.