The capital.
A place still clinging to the illusion of normalcy. Reconstructed buildings, streets patrolled by surveillance automatons, floating ads promoting everything from magical energy drinks to wands with spell storage. Far, far away from the horror of the Rifts.
Kai walked through the doors of the central hunter office, a structure of glass and enchanted steel standing tall as a bastion of order. Around him, other hunters came and went with confident strides. Some wore enchanted armor, others bore glowing magical tattoos on their skin. All of them had one thing in common: success.
Kai, on the other hand, carried a patched-up bag over his shoulder, with a broken puppet sticking out of one side.
"Kai. You again," sighed a familiar voice.
Behind the reception desk, a young man with blond hair and a fitted gray uniform stopped writing on his magical tablet and looked up with a raised eyebrow. Roderick — one of the oldest receptionists and, in Kai's opinion, one of the few with a trace of compassion.
"Third time this week," Roderick added without waiting for confirmation.
Kai nodded, dropping the bag with a metallic thud. A puppet arm slid out and hit the floor.
"E-class Rift. Near the ruins of the North District. Insect-type monster. Rokk distracted it, but…" he sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, "I don't have the strength anymore. It's getting harder to build something that lasts even ten minutes."
Roderick took notes with his magical pen, frowning.
"An E-class Rift, Kai… even rookies without offensive affinities can handle those with decent strategy. Maybe it's time to consider what we've already talked about."
Kai scoffed.
"Get a partner? I'm trying, okay? I put my best poster on the board. I even used the saddest face I could make. Literally, one of my puppets held a little sign that said 'I need help! Free lodging and tea!'"
Roderick let out a soft laugh and shook his head.
"Maybe you should include in the poster that you live in one of the safest zones in the capital. Your apartment's the only thing of value you have left, after all."
Kai gave him a dramatically sarcastic look.
"Thanks for the pep talk, Roderick. Really, your emotional support is what keeps my heart beating."
"That's what receptionists are for," the other replied with a smile.
A moment of silence followed. Roderick's voice lowered, and his expression grew more serious.
"All jokes aside, Kai. You're trying… but you can't do this alone. Your magic is unique, sure, but without materials, backup, or decent coverage, it's like sending paper dolls into a dragon war."
Kai clenched his teeth, but he knew Roderick was right.
"I know. And believe me, I'm trying. But no one wants to fight beside someone who can't guarantee they'll make it out of a Rift alive. Not even in an E."
"Then make it worth their while. Be clever. Use what you've got."
Kai fell into thought, staring out the large window that looked toward the city's outer wall. Beyond it, the sky was still stained with dark lines. The Rifts.
"Maybe I need to change my approach," he muttered to himself. "Maybe I don't need a strong partner… just someone willing to take a chance with me."
"And how do you plan to find someone like that?" Roderick asked.
Kai grinned, a mischievous spark in his eyes.
"Maybe I'll add a smile to the puppet on the poster this time. No one can resist a sad little doll offering cinnamon tea and a free couch bed."
Roderick burst into laughter.
"That's the most pathetic and brilliant thing I've heard today. Good luck, Puppetmaster."
Kai picked up his bag and headed for the exit.
"Don't call me that. It makes my ego itch."
"You're the one who put it on the poster…"
"That was emotional marketing!"
He left the office, the echo of laughter behind him, while high above in the sky, a new line silently opened like a scar across the blue.
A new Rift.
And maybe, a new chance.