Knock. Knock.
The sound was so faint it barely registered against the humming silence of the Kalen's office. A sleek, minimal space - no decorations, no clutter. Just a desk, a glowing terminal, and the weight of authority pressing down on whoever dared step inside.
"Come in," he said without looking up, his voice sharp as a blade drawn from its sheath.
The door slid open with a hiss, and the nervous subordinate crept in. His boots clicked too loudly on the polished floor, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.
"S-Sir, um…" he began, wringing the edge of his datapad like it might shield him.
The Silver Blade finally lifted his gaze, eyes like cold steel. He didn't bother with pleasantries. "Is the kid I brought in a rogue or not?"
The subordinate froze. "He… wasn't on our database, but he did have a-"
"Hmm." The Silver Blade cut them off and leaned back, dismissing the matter. "Prepare an interrogation chamber and summon a mentalist. For now, you're dismissed."
The relief should have hit like fresh air, but instead, the subordinate stiffened. His pulse raced. He hadn't even delivered the actual reason he'd come.
"B-but, sir, that wasn't what I came here to report to you…"
Kalen's head tilted, irritation flashing across his face like a shadow. "What is it?" His voice cracked like a whip.
The subordinate flinched. "Well… there's someone-someone causing a mess in the headquarters."
His chair screeched back. In a single motion, the Silver Blade was on his feet, his cloak snapping behind him like the wing of a raven.
"What? And you didn't start with that?" His voice thundered, raw with fury, as he shot past the trembling subordinate. The sheer force of his presence was like a storm, making the younger man stumble aside before he could even react.
Kalen moved like a streak of silver lightning, cutting through the hallway with predatory speed, every uniformed exorcist scrambling to clear his path.
The subordinate hurried after him, jogging desperately to keep up, muttering under his breath, "I tried…"
By then, alarms were already beginning to shriek through the colossal facility. Flashing lights bathed the steel walls in a bloody glow. Shouts erupted in the distance. The air shifted, tense and electric, as if the very headquarters itself was holding its breath before a coming storm.
The mess had begun, and it was about to swallow everyone inside...
-
Before storming into Kadel's headquarters, a man tore through the Veil.
He was a giant of a figure - towering, broad-shouldered, each stride pounding like a war drum. Golden hair caught faint light even under the warped violet sky, glinting like strands of sunlight that didn't belong in this broken place. His eyes, sharp and blazing blue, cut through the nightmare landscape like twin flames defying the dark.
For most of the day, he'd been doing what he always did: exterminating infestations, mowing down hordes of demons before they could spill through the cracks. That was his life: hunt, bleed, repeat. Assignment after assignment, until his life became a blur.
And that was when it struck him.
"…I almost forgot what day it was," he muttered, half to himself, breath steaming in the Veil's twisted air. His lips curled in a dry smile. "Always losing track of time… but better late than never. We'll still have a fun birthday, and Ravion should show up too, wherever the hell that guy is."
With that, he set off. Every step blurred him forward, faster, harder, until the warped streets themselves warped further around his passing. Twisted creatures screamed and scattered, too terrified to stand in his way. Those too slow were crushed beneath his thundering strides, erased by the sheer force of his aura.
Yet no matter how fast he moved, a bad feeling wouldn't leave him.
There was a wrongness in the air. It pressed against his skin like knives. A whisper of disaster that sharpened with every stride.
And as he neared Orion's neighbourhood, that whisper became certainty. Spirit energy lingered faintly in the air, clashing with the acrid stench of demonic corruption.
He pushed his speed even further, tearing across the final stretch until he came crashing down into the ruins.
There, scattered across the broken streets of the Veil's overlap, a squad of uniformed auxiliaries was already at work. They were disposing of demon remains, stabilising warped space, and marking contaminated ground for later repair.
Bastion's head sank.
Auxiliaries were marked people who could see demons and enter the Veil, but who lacked spirit energy. Not true exorcists. Instead, they handled things like support, logistics, finances, and the armoury. Occasionally, with specialised weapons, they dealt with lesser demons.
But this… this was cleanup. And the lingering energy alone told him something big had gone down.
"Who are you?" one of them barked, stiffening as the giant of a man crash-landed among them.
Bastion didn't answer. His massive hand shot out through the dust cloud around him, seizing the speaker by the collar and hoisting him into the air as though he were weightless. The size difference was almost laughable, but the pressure wasn't; his piercing eyes bore down like blades.
"What happened here?"
The auxiliary's throat bobbed. He felt an immense weight pressing down on him, crushing the breath out of his lungs. He struggled to resist, flailing like a child, but no one else intervened.
That baffled him.
'Why aren't they shooting at him or calling for back-up?!' he wondered, but he soon realised why...
The giant figure wore a plain vest that highlighted his enormous muscular frame, but wrapped around his waist was a uniform piece identical to their own. And stitched onto the sleeve was a rank insignia that vastly outranked theirs.
His resistance crumbled, and he quickly began to talk.
"A-a gathering of lesser demons. The Captain wiped most of them out. We're just cleaning what's left!"
"The Captain, hmph…" Bastion exhaled, a humourless grin tugging at his lips.
'So that bastard's been here.'
He couldn't deny the captain's abilities, but he still wasn't reassured. This could all be a coincidence, but his gut told him otherwise.
His voice dropped lower, sharper. "What about civilians? Any unmarked caught up in this?"
"I-I don't know for sure," the man stammered. "But… I think there was one kid taken into headquarters custody."
Bastion, the giant man, let him drop. The auxiliary stumbled, gasping for breath, but Bastion was already staring past him, past all of them, toward the shattered outline of what used to be his home.
He sighed, deeper this time.
There was no way it was a coincidence.
'I had always hoped Orion could stay far from this cursed life, and thought that was likely since he'd been away from it this long. But I guess it was only a matter of time.'
Still, what mattered now wasn't the inevitability, it was whether his brother was okay. And why the hell had he been taken into custody?
His jaw tightened. The grin returned, humorless and cold.
"…Guess I need to pay that uptight bastard a visit."
His body blurred into motion, streaking toward the nearest gateway.