Night fell quietly across Tokyo, but to Shaun it brought no sleep.
He sat on the balcony of his guild-provided apartment-4 BHK, panoramic windows overlooking the city, marble floors polished so clean they reflected souls. A home meant to make him feel valued.
But luxury felt meaningless.
Ayame's smile haunted him.
Her voice—soft, trembling, still trying to comfort him as she died in his arms—played in his head like a broken recording. The scent of her healing blossoms still lingered on his uniform, no matter how many times he washed it.
Shaun pressed a hand against his heart.
It still hurt.
"It should've been me," he whispered.
Beneath him, the city glowed, unaware of what sacrifice bought its peace.
The Guild filed Ayame's death as 'operational loss due to unstable terrain'.
A lie.
A cover.
A political convenience.
Shaun bit his lip until he tasted blood.
The balcony door opened with a soft chime behind him.
Reina stepped out, her footsteps silent as moonlight. Her silver hair fluttered in the cold wind, but her eyes were empty, hollow.
She hadn't cried.
Not once.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked softly.
Shaun didn't turn. "Did you?
"No."
The silence that fell between them was heavy as the night sky.
At last, Reina whispered: "Ayame wasn't just a teammate. She was my last family."
Shaun's breath caught.
He turned.
"She… she said something about your brother—"
Reina's jaw clenched. "He died on a mission last year. Same situation. Wrong intel. Wrong orders."
Her gaze hardened, sharp as her moon-blades.
"Hiroshi covered it up."
Shaun felt a pulse of heat in his chest. "Then he—he set us up?
"Yes."
Reina's voice shook with grief and fury.
"He's been using missions to 'test' monsters. To push evolution. To see how far he can go."
Shaun froze. "You're saying he's… experimenting?
"On us," she whispered. "And on the creatures."
Shaun felt the world tilt.
The Guild he'd admired… was rotting from the inside.
The Broken Team
The next morning, the training hall echoed with steel and shouts.
Daichi hammered his fist into a steel dummy, metal shrieking with each blow.
"Why isn't anyone talking about it?!" he roared.
"One of our own died! Why does everybody act like nothing happened?!"
Shaun stood in the door and watched.
Daichi's usually cheerful face was contorted with pain.
"Nobody cares," Reina said quietly from behind Shaun. "The guild wants results, not tears."
Daichi slammed his fist one last time—so hard the dummy bent inward.
Then he turned, eyes burning.
His expression softened somewhat as he saw Shaun.
"You okay?" he asked.
Shaun hesitated. Then: "No."
Daichi let out a hollow laugh. "Good. Means you're human."
He stepped closer, dropping his voice to a whisper.
"The Guild Master called me this morning. He wants us to go on another mission tonight."
His fists clenched.
"Not even a day after Ayame's funeral."
Reina's face darkened. "He wants to see how we perform. How we break."
Something inside Shaun seemed to splinter.
"We should refuse."
Daichi shook his head. "We can't. Not unless we want to be labeled as unstable or rebellious. They'll strip our ranks."
"And black-list us," Reina added. "No guild will take us."
Shaun hated it.
Hated how powerless he suddenly felt, despite being strong enough to crush monsters.
He whispered, "Why is it like this?"
Reina said nothing.
Daichi looked up at Shaun—eyes full of pain.
"Because in this world," he muttered,
"hunters don't fight monsters. We fight the system that feeds on us."
Hiroshi's Smile
That evening, they were summoned.
The Guild Commander's office was luxurious: plush velvet carpets, golden lamps, shelves holding relics from past expeditions. Too beautiful for a man who sent children into death pits.
Hiroshi sat behind his desk, smiling warmly as they entered.
"My strongest squad," he said. "How are you all holding up?"
Reina didn't answer.
Daichi didn't bow.
Shaun met Hiroshi's eyes—and felt the man's ability brush against his thoughts like a cold hand.
Neural Command.
A power that manipulated memory and fear.
Shaun fought the urge to flinch.
"Your performance was remarkable," Hiroshi continued, tapping a pen. "The Alpha Ghoul's corpse is proving highly valuable for research. Ayame's sacrifice—"
"Don't say her name," Shaun said, his voice cracking with anger.
Hiroshi stopped.
His smile dimmed-not with remorse, but annoyance.
"She died serving humanity. A noble thing. Now—on to your next assignment—"
"No".
Reina stepped forward.
"No more lies. No more suicide missions disguised as intel errors."
Daichi crossed his arms. "If you want to kill us, do it yourself."
Shaun said nothing.
He merely stared at Hiroshi—trying to grasp why such a monster would look so human.
Hiroshi sighed dramatically.
"You three…
He stood and walked around the desk.
"Do you think you comprehend the world?
His fingers lifted Shaun's chin softly, mockingly.
"You're powerful, Shaun. But naïve. If you want to survive in this world, you must accept sacrifice."
He leaned in closer.
"You must be willing to lose everything. Even your teammates.
Shaun's heartbeat thundered.
The rage in him wasn't loud.
It wasn't screaming.
It was quiet. Heavy.
Like magma that's about to burst.
Reina grasped Shaun's shoulder. "Let's go."
Hiroshi sneered. "You may leave if you wish, but the world will continue without you."
Daichi spat on the ground.
"Good."
They did not even bother to bow before leaving.
And for the first time since joining, Shaun realized:
The Guild wasn't their family.
It was their cage.
The Unseen Eyes
That night Shaun again sat outside, the cold wind biting through his shirt.
The sky was clear—too clear.The stars looked like they were watching.
Quiet footsteps approached.
Reina sat beside him.Daichi followed, sitting on the floor, back against the wall.
For a long time, none of them spoke.
Finally, Daichi said softly,"Ayame wouldn't want us to fall apart. She believed in us."
Reina nodded, wiping her eyes."She believed we were better than this world."
Shaun swallowed hard.
"What do we do now?" he whispered.
Reina stared at the stars. "We grow. Quietly. Carefully. Hiroshi wants us weak—so we'll become the opposite."
Daichi punched his palm. "Hell yeah."
Shaun looked at them.His comrades.His friends.His broken family.
"I won't let anyone else die," he said, voice trembling but resolute."Not while I'm alive."
Reina touched his hand. "Then don't die first."
Daichi laughed—real, for the first time since the mission.
Shaun smiled, though his chest felt heavy.Grief sat beside them, silent but present.
Far above, a drone hovered at the edge of the building.A tiny red light blinked.Watching. Recording.
Hiroshi's voice whispered in a hidden room of monitors:
"Good… keep growing, Shaun.I need you strong before the real war begins."
The screen zoomed in on Shaun's face.
"The world will break you eventually.
I'll just guide the timing."