After a long while, Kenzo grew restless on the couch. Rina had rushed out of the house with an unusual, secretive excitement, and she'd been gone far too long for a quick conversation. He put down the remote and called out,
"Rina! Where are you?" Receiving no answer, the silence of the night unnerved him. He then called their mother.
"Mom, Rina went outside a long time ago. She's not answering me," Kenzo explained, his voice tight with confusion.
"What? At this hour?" she demanded, a cold dread seizing her. "Where did she think she was going in the middle of the night?"
They immediately went outside to look for her. The street was quiet, empty. They called her name, their voices swallowed by the darkness, but Rina was nowhere to be found. Her mother desperately called Rina's phone. No response. She called again, her hands shaking, her breath catching in her throat.
"Mom, look!" Kenzo suddenly cried out, pointing to the ground near the porch light.
Lying in the grass, its screen shattered, was Rina's phone.
At that moment, all hope vanished. The sight of the discarded phone, coupled with the heavy silence, confirmed their worst fear: something terrible had happened. Rina's mother crumpled, her cries piercing the night air. Overwhelmed by panic, she dialed Chief McKay's number, sobbing as she told him their daughter had been kidnapped.
McKay, who was still locked down at the precinct following the press conference, went into immediate shock. The professional control he maintained in the face of the city's chaos instantly evaporated. He roared orders into the phone and prepared to return home instantly. The family that was peaceful and stable only hours before was now utterly shattered, their home filled with chaos and the sharp sound of devastating grief.
***
Sanemi sat on the cold bench, staring at his friend. Vito had listened to the entire, unbelievable confession, but his eyes were filled with skepticism, not shock.
"So you're saying there's a system that assigns you to kill people?" Vito shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Sanemi, everything you've told me just doesn't make sense. It sounds like a bad video game, man."
"Not a single thing I told you is a lie," Sanemi insisted, his voice raw with exhaustion.
"Even the day I told you to see my computer, it was about that. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of the consequences."
"Then what gave you the courage to talk to me right now, if you were so afraid?" Vito asked, genuinely puzzled.
"I didn't know how to explain it, and I know I'm going to die anytime," Sanemi replied, his face showing no sign of hope, only resignation. "I just wanted one person to know about this before it happens."
Vito, still trying to rationalize the story, sighed. "Listen, man, everything you said—I don't understand even a single word. Maybe you just need to take a rest." He reached out, preparing to lead Sanemi back home.
But just as he started to rise, Sanemi's phone rang. The screen flashed: Rina.
Sanemi's breath caught in his throat. He showed Vito the screen, asking in a panicked whisper, "Why is she calling me at this time?"
Vito, confused, told him to pick it up.
Sanemi brought the phone to his ear, but instead of Rina's familiar, teasing voice, he heard the frantic cries of her mother. The woman's voice was broken as she relayed the horrifying news: Rina had been kidnapped, and they didn't know where she was or who had taken her.
Sanemi's eyes widened, freezing in disbelief. The terror was too immense to process.
"Rina…" he stammered, the single name barely escaping his lips.
Vito leaned in urgently. "Hey man, what happened? What's wrong with Rina?"
"Rina has been kidnapped," Sanemi said, the words falling out of him in a strained, cracked whisper.
"What?" Vito looked at Sanemi, then back at the dark street. He had heard enough impossible stories for one night, but this—this felt like the final, insane twist. He rubbed his temples, gripping his head as he desperately tried to wake himself from what felt like a nightmarishly long dream. But it was real.
Sanemi was instantly consumed by white-hot rage, biting down so hard on his teeth that he tasted blood. "This is all because of me! I shouldn't have been closer to her in the first place! Why her? She didn't do anything wrong!"
That was the moment the control snapped. As Sanemi's anger soared, his power, dormant and unstable, was violently awakened. A sudden, piercing blue light began to glow on the veins beneath the skin of his wrists and hands, tracing the path of his furious blood. His eyes flared, the color intensifying to an impossible blue, like someone had put on unnaturally bright, glowing contact lenses.
Vito was terrified. He stumbled back, staring at the friend whose body was now radiating a cold, strange energy. He quickly glanced around, trying to cool Sanemi down because people passing by had stopped, their gazes suspicious. Even though Sanemi was his friend, Vito was now deeply afraid of him.
The world fractured.
As the raw, pulsing blue light surged from Sanemi's veins, his hearing sharpened to a painful shriek, and his vision was instantly overloaded. He let out a primal scream and collapsed, clutching his head as the sheer force of the awakening ability ripped through his nervous system.
"Sanemi! What the hell is that?" Vito shouted, stumbling back, staring in sheer terror at the glowing lines crisscrossing his friend's skin.
But Sanemi wasn't listening. He was trapped in a terrifying, lucid vision. The cold street vanished, replaced by a flash of sickening darkness, the scent of damp earth, and a muffled, desperate struggle.
He saw Rina, her eyes wide with terror, her shadow dissolving into the night. Then, the kidnapper's silhouette filled his mind—not a face, but a flurry of damning detail. He saw a quick, cold gleam of metal and realized it was a scorpion tattoo on the kidnapper's wrist, the tail curled and ready to strike. The image dissolved, only to be replaced by the harsh, reflecting glow of a rear taillight: a specific shade of dark. Finally, a sharp, clean image of a license plate flashed, three distinct numbers burned into his memory before the vision shattered.
The pain was suffocating and Sanemi gasped, thrashing on the cold pavement, the blue light fading from his skin and receding back into his veins, leaving him weak and shivering.
"Rina… they took Rina…" he choked out, his voice thin and hollow.
Vito rushed forward, grabbing his shoulders, his own fear fighting his loyalty. "Man, you gotta tell me what just happened! What was that light?"
Sanemi struggled to focus. He knew instinctively that the vision was not a dream—it was truth, But he also knew the glowing veins, the VAbyss, and the entire impossible reality would instantly condemn him if he involved law enforcement.
"We can't call the police," Sanemi whispered, leaning heavily on Vito. "They'll never believe me. They can't see this power. I have to find her first."
Vito, overwhelmed by the kidnapping and his friend's collapse, finally nodded, numbly accepting the impossibility of the situation. "Okay, okay. But we're getting out of here now. You can't be seen like this."
Vito hailed a passing taxi, practically dragging Sanemi inside. Instead of driving to Sanemi's house, Vito directed the cab to his own home—a safer refuge where they wouldn't risk Mia seeing Sanemi's distress.
When they arrived, Vito's mother, a kind woman named Mrs. Elena Rossi, opened the door, her face a picture of confusion at the sight of her son supporting a near-collapsed Sanemi.
"Vito! What in the world is wrong with your head, bringing someone here at this hour?" she scolded, instantly stepping aside to help.
"It's my friend Sanemi, Mom. I had to help him; he collapsed. He doesn't feel well."
"Okay, get inside first," she murmured, her initial shock giving way to maternal instinct. Mrs. Rossi was a kind, helping soul, and decided to stabilize Sanemi before asking any questions. They laid him down gently on the living room sofa and gave him water and a blanket.
Sanemi lay there, his mind racing, the vision replaying in an endless loop: Scorpion tattoo. Dark car. License plate.
***
Early the next morning, the persistent, harsh rap of knuckles against the door woke Sanemi's mother from her exhausted, fitful sleep. She opened the door, still bleary-eyed, and immediately froze, her face draining of color.
Standing on her porch were two uniformed police officers, their expressions grim, their presence a cold, undeniable threat.
"Mrs. Yamamoto?" one officer asked, his voice low and professional. "We are from the city police department. We need to speak with your son, Sanemi Yamamoto. It's urgent."
Sanemi's mother trembled, pulling her robe tighter. "What is this about? Is he in trouble?"
The officer hesitated, glancing at his partner. "This concerns the kidnapping of the Chief of Police's daughter, ma'am. Rina McKay. We have information that suggests your son can help us with our questions. Furthermore, we need to confirm his whereabouts, as the person who committed the crime used Sanemi's name before carrying out the abduction."
Sanemi's mother gasped, a sound of sheer terror. She leaned against the doorframe, suddenly terrified, the police lights flashing outside reflecting in her wide, horrified eyes. Her world was crashing down again.