The world around Yeshwanth reloaded like a glitched simulation stitching itself back together one pixel at a time. A metallic sky flickered overhead, smoothing from static into shimmering steel-blue. Neon glyphs hovered in the air like floating system notifications. The ground beneath his feet vibrated with the hum of mana-infused machinery, alive with the pulse of a city that never truly slept.
He took a breath.
The air tasted faintly metallic, the signature of Lumaniris—capital of the Astral Frontier and the hub where dreams were bought, sold, and often crushed.
Nine hours.
That was all the time he had in this world before the system forcibly logged him out and returned him to reality.
Nine hours to survive.
Nine hours to make money.
Nine hours to continue the desperate climb he'd forced himself into.
Nine hours wasn't enough to stay broke.
He didn't waste a second. He headed straight toward the towering iron-and-crystal building in front of him—the Lumaniris Mercenary Association, where people came only when they needed help or when they wanted to risk their lives for credits.
The massive doors slid open with a mechanical hiss.
Inside, chaos.
Hunters shouted over bounties. Adventurers compared scars, laughing like death was nothing but an annoying coworker. Guild clerks scanned mana signatures, rejecting anyone too weak for the missions they requested. A group of merchants practically begged for escorts, their fear obvious.
The entire building buzzed with tension—too much demand, not enough protection.
Above the counter, a mechanical board flickered.
URGENT QUEST — HIGH-RISK ESCORT
Reward: 150,000 Light Credits
Yeshwanth's gaze locked onto the number.
Perfect.
Short.
Dangerous.
And very good pay.
Exactly what a desperate man needed.
Exactly what a man chasing a future needed.
He stepped toward the counter.
"I'll take it."
The receptionist didn't even question it—desperation worked both ways. Too many threats. Too few mercenaries left. They just scanned his seal, handed him the mission data, and gestured him down a corridor.
Yeshwanth didn't hesitate.
He had one goal in mind:
Earn money fast. Become a millionaire. Win Nila back.
He didn't know if this plan was insane. But he knew doing nothing was worse.
And in this world, insane people survived. Hesitant people died.
Lucia
The private lounge door slid open.
Trouble was already waiting inside.
A girl sat with her legs crossed and posture rigid—stress disguised under elegance. Her uniform was crisp, sleeves sharp, every fold intentional. White hair fell around her face like threads of silver frost, glowing faintly from the ambient mana lighting. Her cold blue eyes scanned him like he was a disappointing draft version of a mercenary. Symbols of her family status were embroidered across her shoulder and chest in expensive thread, each marking an affiliation more powerful than the last.
Lucia Cardenas.
Daughter of the Business Alliance President.
A girl raised in polished halls and political pressure.
Someone who had never been told "no" without consequences.
The moment her gaze landed on him, contempt flashed across her face.
"Is this a joke?" Her voice cut like a blade of chilled steel. "You brought me a child to guard me from assassins?"
Her stare was piercing—calculating, cold, irritated that the universe had handed her anything less than perfection.
Yeshwanth didn't blink.
"I'm capable. That's what matters."
Her lips curled with disbelief.
"Capable? You look like someone who failed the school entrance exam."
The manager standing beside her stiffened, clearing his throat with the tiredness of a man who had tried explaining things too many times.
"All elite guards are occupied," he said. "He's the only one available for immediate deployment."
Lucia's jaw tightened.
She hated being denied.
Hated being cornered.
Hated being forced.
"…Fine," she muttered sharply. "But if I die, I'll come back as a ghost and sue this whole building."
She stood abruptly, brushing past Yeshwanth.
She tried to shoulder him aside.
He didn't move.
She hit him like she walked into a wall.
For a moment, her eyes widened—confusion, flickering alarm, then irritation as she pretended it didn't happen.
She adjusted her gloves with a stiff motion and walked forward, chin raised, posture perfect.
The Road to Witania
The city opened before them—towering skyscrapers made of mana-crystal glass, drones zipping through the air, hovering street vendors shouting prices, rails glowing under the movement of crystal-powered vehicles. Lumaniris was alive in a way that felt both magical and mechanical.
Lucia walked ahead with confidence, absorbing the stares and bows of civilians and guards alike. Every step she took seemed rehearsed for a political stage.
People bowed instinctively.
She thrived on it.
"You walk behind me," she ordered without looking back.
"No."
She froze, turning slowly.
"…Did you just say no to me?"
"I walk where I can protect you best," Yeshwanth said without emotion. "Your order risks the mission."
Her expression shifted—a mixture of offense and reluctant curiosity.
Not many spoke to her that way.
Not many could.
"…You're interesting," she muttered, continuing forward with a huff.
"Not here to be interesting," he replied. "I'm here to work."
She didn't know whether to be insulted or impressed.
But she was watching him now—subtly, behind the cold exterior.
Parallel — The Real World (Nila)
While Yeshwanth walked through a world of mana and metal—
Nila sat alone in her dimly lit room.
Her bed was unmade.
Her hair messy.
Her eyes swollen from nights where tears were stronger than sleep.
She stared at the window, watching the world outside move on without her.
Her mother whispered to her father from the hallway.
"She hasn't smiled since that day. She misses him deeply."
Her father sighed, voice heavy.
"Time will mend her. A year isn't long."
Nila hugged her pillow tighter.
A year feels like forever.
Yeshwanth wasn't there to hear it.
But somewhere inside him, the weight of that truth pulled like gravity.
Departure
They reached the outer edge of Lumaniris—a massive rail station suspended above the city like a glowing bridge. Tracks of crystalline mana stretched to the horizon, carrying rail-cars that glided silently at impossible speeds.
Lucia inspected her gloves again, adjusting them with unnecessary meticulousness.
A habit to hide nerves.
She stole glances at Yeshwanth when she thought he wasn't watching.
"You should know," she said lightly, "Witania isn't safe right now."
"Good."
Her forehead creased.
"…Good? Why good?"
"Danger pays better."
She stared.
Was he fearless?
Or stupid?
She wasn't sure yet.
But for the first time, she didn't look annoyed—she looked curious.
The rail-car slid into place before them, doors opening with a soft chime. The interior glowed with pale blue light, smooth seats and faint holographic screens drifting around.
They stepped inside.
Assassin in the Shadows
Far above the station—
On a nearby rooftop where the wind cut across sharp metallic edges—
A masked figure crouched low, scanning the platform below.
His obsidian blade rested against his knee, reflecting the faint glow of mana rails. His movements were precise, disciplined. He wasn't an amateur. He wasn't a thug.
He was a professional.
His eyes locked onto Lucia—recognizing the target.
He clicked a button on his transmitter.
"Phase one confirmed. Escort is weaker than predicted."
A pause.
Static.
A voice responded faintly.
"Proceed."
The assassin's fingers tightened around the blade.
He wasn't entirely wrong about the escort.
But he wasn't entirely right either.
Instinct
The rail-car hummed to life, mana flowing through its core as it began sliding across the glowing rails.
Yeshwanth leaned back in his seat—
And felt it.
A faint killing intent.
Far away.
Focused.
Sharp like a needle against the skin.
He shifted immediately, placing himself between Lucia and the window.
Lucia frowned. "What are you doing?"
Yeshwanth's eyes scanned the rooftops outside.
"Your life," he said quietly, "just got interesting."
Lucia blinked—confused, then tense.
Before she could ask—
The rail-car accelerated.
Fast.
Far above, the assassin began to move.
And the hunt had already begun.