"Ugh… How many does that make it now…"
Akari's ball of pink hair collapsed into the soft pillow, a groan escaping her mouth as she pounded her fists into the sheets.
Her white dress had been replaced with a masculine style of attire, one that somewhat obscured her beautiful appearance.
Until entering her lodging, she had worn thick leather boots that dripped with sticky mud, along with a heavy tunic that concealed her lower face slightly.
Akari's hair had been carefully wrapped into a tight bun, hidden by a small hat that had disguised her presence.
These steps, while not important when battling a terror, were essential for someone in her own line of work.
And now, on the night of September 23rd, three days after a strange feeling erupted throughout the planet, this challenger was finally able to relax in peace, revealing her identity fully.
After a grueling battle between herself and the mid-level terror who had breached the Abyssal Trench, she had come out victorious.
Claiming its core and venom, the girl had completed her mission and decided that even if she traveled slowly, she would still arrive back before the time limit was exceeded.
Unlike the other two boys, she had an extra week to complete her task as Crescent Moon's End was located at the farthest reaches of the known world, a place where miasma was thick and fog rolled.
When she had fought the monster, she had luckily been far enough from the Abyss to avoid the poisonous toxins, allowing her to fight at full strength.
It had been a quick battle, one that prevented her injuries from going further than light bruises and only a single gash along her waist.
So as she changed the red-stained bandage around her hip, she winced from the pain, delving into her innermost thoughts to escape.
The first thing to appear in her mind was her oldest and closest friend, whose blond hair swayed gently in the wind.
Turquoise eyes that reflected like the sea waves themselves, twinkling in the radiant sunlight of their expansive island.
Aaron Grimstall, a boy whom she had adored for as long as she could remember, and one whose heart was pure as gold.
They had spent years on end exploring their home, climbing cliffs, and delving into caves looking for treasure.
Yet eight months ago, he had vanished without a trace, seemingly gone from the world itself.
Akari had searched everywhere she could think of, starting from his home, the school, the library, and even the numerous caves along the coast.
Back then, as she had laid her knuckles against the doorway of the rickety old shack with a slightly caved roof—the place where Aaron's family resided—she heard a heavy crash from within.
Excitement and hope immediately filled her heart. The thought of Aaron's face appearing in the frame brought her relief.
However, when a gray-haired man opened the door, one whom she had seen many times before when visiting, her heart froze.
His face was wrinkled and pale, an emotion rarely seen upon the once vibrant and exuberant Tibb Grimstall.
Hesitantly opening her mouth, she had spoken to the man quietly, a strange feeling echoing through her chest.
"Mr. Grimstall… Have you seen Aaron around?"
Her words were shaky, an odd sense of fear clinging to her question.
The man's patchy eyebrows furrowed downwards, confusion contorting his face into wrinkled angles.
"No…"
His pupils dilated, darting around in terror as if scanning for an invisible threat looming at any corner.
This was a familiar habit that Akari was used to, one that Aaron had told her had been exhibited by all men of the Grimstall family.
He had told her nothing of the reason, and even he himself was unsure of the cause, with their discussions about the topic rarely broached.
But on that day, after his own son had vanished, Aaron's father had nothing to say, not even a word.
And so, Akari left, returning to her empty home to weep in silence with her only friend as good as dead.
After that day, she quit school, venturing out to sea in a boat she had stolen from the pier along with a map to Sea Fallen.
Vicious storms had nearly sent her plunging into the freezing depths of the Sea of Dreams, her body battered from the conditions.
Yet when February came, she had reached the magnificent city, the Great Sea Wall stretching high into the sky.
Throughout the following weeks, she worked various jobs that needed to be done, whether it be helping the elderly or cleaning dirt off the streets.
Pay wasn't much, yet it allowed her to get a small apartment in the basement of a rich man's home.
Three meals a day wasn't a luxury she could afford; only a half-stale piece of bread and some potatoes was a feast for the cherry-haired girl.
Of course, she had been offered different types of jobs, ones that far exceeded legality or ethics; however, she turned them down.
Degrading herself for coin wasn't going to allow her to accomplish her goal, not when there was a chance that he was still alive.
Only one thing kept her going during these harsh weeks, and it was something that wasn't even tangible.
A dream, one that had seemed so real that she doubted her own memory, thinking she had been watching from afar.
In the Sea of Dreams, dream or nightmare, they all had meaning, and this one was no different.
Aaron's form, older, hair slightly bluer, was talking with a blonde-haired girl who was dressed in a tunic.
They were aboard some strange, blurry object, one obscured by mystical mist that bled into her vision.
Having been experienced with prophetic visions, she could determine a relative accuracy of the picture.
Without intervention, the probability of it coming to pass was nearly ninety-nine percent.
Such extreme odds made the pink-haired girl skeptical of the dream's validity, the sheer rarity of a clear prophecy existing being lower than one in a million.
These doubts made the girl shrug it off as merely a stress-induced nightmare, one that was a byproduct of her rigorous schedule.
Deciding that she had overworked herself, she took a break from her three jobs, taking a stroll through the massive city.
Using the little funds she had, the girl stopped by a small bakery, buying an assortment of pastries before heading towards the main markets.
Children played together in tiny parks curated by the government, many carrying toy swords or wooden guns.
As the girl walked through the city, she rounded the corner of Rutherford Street and noticed a young priestess far in the distance.
Her appearance was average for a girl of her age, yet something about her made Akari stop dead in her tracks.
It can't be…
She nearly shouted out, calling to the girl, the only lead to Aaron, standing only a few blocks away.
Reaching out her hand, she ran forward, a smile forming across her face as she watched the girl's gray eyes turn around the corner.
A lead on Aaron!
Akari thought in excitement as another figure appeared behind the priestess, a leather sack in their hand.
Narrowing her eyes in confusion, the pink-haired girl stopped, noticing a weapon attached to their waist.
Then, in a quick movement, the disheveled man raised the bag over the girl's head, where, at the same time, another man kicked her straight in the jaw.
Blood sprayed everywhere as she collapsed, the bag being thrust over her head and her body being lifted hastily.
Akari's eyes widened, her legs reacting before her mind, her footsteps resounding through the street.
One of the two turned back, handing the priestess's body over to his colleague without so much as a sliver of hesitation.
The man carrying the girl bolted away, vanishing down back-alleys and roads that wound and turned for kilometers.
Only Akari and the disheveled man were left, his heavy boots echoing off the gravel pathway as he walked closer to the pink-haired girl.
Trying to run, she turned fast, twisting her ankle and collapsing onto the sharp ground that dug into her skin.
The man laughed, his fist pulling back in a large motion, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Akari braced for the pain that would soon follow, the idea that she would meet the same fate as the priestess haunting her mind.
Closing her eyes and trying to protect her head from the strike, she waited for the impact, a deafening silence consuming the roadway.
D-Did he leave…?
Opening her eyes only a sliver, the girl turned her gaze forward, where the man should've been standing.
His body, instead of looming high above her, was sprawled out on the ground, blood trickling from a small hole in his head.
A shrill scream escaped Akari's throat as she tumbled backwards, the sight of a dead body sending shivers down her spine.
Yet, a calm presence settled down on her, a warm hand placed gently on her shoulder, reassuring her.
Looking upward, she saw a large man, wearing a suit that screamed wealth, with a black mustache that seemed to curl up like a smile.
His gaze was resolute, cold, and unyielding, with a presence of raw power that smothered anything around.
In his hand, a small revolver smoked slightly, a clear sign of his previous actions.
However, even with the murderer behind her, the pink-haired child felt no fear facing the man, a sense of influence washing over her.
"W-Who are you, sir…"
Her voice was quiet, broken.
The man whose tightly curled black hair blew gently in the wind looked down at her, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.
Opening his mouth slowly, his shiny white teeth caught the sunlight, shimmering in the dim alleyway.
His voice was thick and heavy, one of a businessman or a merchant, one that could drive a bargain no matter the conditions.
And as he spoke, Akari Ayaka could only listen intently to his response.
"Xeon Maxus."