Rain fell endlessly over Neo-Yokohama, casting a gloomy veil over the city. This was the kind of rain that turned streets into rivers of neon reflections. It drowned the distant hum of traffic beneath a constant roar. From outside, the megacity looked alive: billions of lights burned through the storm, holographic billboards flickered through sheets of rain, and arcology towers vanished into low clouds.

  But down in the lower districts, things were quieter. Older. Forgotten. Between two aging apartment towers sat a narrow residential block—the kind city pnners had long since abandoned. Concrete cracked. Balconies rusted. The only illumination came from a flickering streetmp and the faint glow of a window on the third floor.

  Inside that small apartment, a baby cried. Kainen paused, stylus hovering above the cracked tablet. His focus drifted from unfinished math homework as the numbers blurred. The crying from the next room—small, fragile, and new—persisted. Rori had only been born a few hours ago. Kainen still wasn’t used to the sound.

  Across the apartment, the kitchen light hummed quietly as Kainen’s mother cleaned a bloodstained cloth in the sink. Rain against the window softened everything, muting the world and creating an almost peaceful atmosphere. Then, a change: the hallway outside had gone silent. Not the normal quiet, but the wrong kind—heavy and expectant in Kainen’s perception.

  He felt it before he heard it: boots, metal against concrete, slow and deliberate, approaching. Kainen looked up, and his mother had stopped moving, water dripping slowly from the cloth in her hand. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then she whispered, "Hunters."

  The word hit him like ice water. Kainen's heart beat faster. Hunters never came to talk; they came to end things. The baby cried, louder this time. His mother moved instantly, crossing the room to lift the newborn from the crib and cradle her against her chest. Rori's tiny hands grasped the air, then settled on her bnket. Crimson eyes opened, shimmering faintly in the dim light.

  Kainen had always thought they were beautiful. His mother knelt before him, her expression calm—too calm. "Kainen," she said softly, her voice urgent. Outside, voices crackled through comm units. A faint electrical hum filled the hallway. Mana batteries are charged. Safety switches disengaged.

  His mother gently pced Rori into his arms, and the warmth startled him. She was so small, so light. Her fingers curled instinctively around the colr of his shirt. "Kainen," she said again, her crimson eyes locking onto his. "You must run."

  His throat tightened. "W-What about you?" For a moment, she smiled—the kind of smile adults use to shield children from fear. The front door bsted inward. Wood splintered, concrete dust mushroomed, and glowing mana rounds ripped through the wall. Chaos exploded in an instant.

  A Hunter stormed in, armored, augmented, mana rifle pulsing. He didn't fire. Crimson force sshed through the air, cws of blood-forged energy yanking him off his feet and smashing him into the hall like a discarded doll. The tang of iron filled the room. More Hunters smmed inside, cybernetic limbs fshing, arcane visors searching, mana bdes snapping to life in blinding arcs.

  "Kainen!" his mother shouted above the chaos. "Swear it." Another explosion rocked the building; the window shattered. Rain and gss spilled across the floor. "Swear you'll protect her." Kainen looked at crying Rori, the world shaking. "I swear! I'll protect her!"

  His mother nodded once, decisive. She spun to face the Hunters, the apartment transforming into a war zone. Mana bolts ripped through the air, shattering walls and splintering furniture. Hunters yelled commands as she struck one across the room, embedding him in cracked pster. Another tried to form a spell circle—she sshed through it, leaving only torn light in her wake.

  "Kainen," she said again, calm, certain. "Run." So he ran. Barefoot, backpack slung over one shoulder, a newborn clutched against his chest. He didn't look back. He didn't stop. Rain swallowed him the moment he burst out into the street. Behind him, the building erupted in fme. A Hunter stood in the storm, arcane circuitry glowing along his cybernetic arm.

  He raised his hand. "Fireball." The night turned orange; fmes soared as the explosion devoured the building. Somewhere in the inferno, a Tyrant of Avarice made her final stand.

  Far away, beyond oceans, beyond continents, beyond the boundary between worlds, a young Sovereign paused. Inside the living Domain of Avarice, Lumina watched the threads of fate ripple through her world like reflections across dark water. Rain, fire, a frightened boy running through the night, and the newborn child clutched tightly in his arms. Two small souls moving through the storm, one human, one something... more.

  Lumina tilted her head, golden eyes reflecting the burning building thousands of miles away. Curious. Most lives passed through her world without leaving even the faintest ripple. But these two... these two felt different. Possibilities bloomed around them like fragile consteltions. Fate twisted, threads intertwined. For the first time in a very long while, Lumina smiled.

  Footsteps echoed softly behind her, and a tall figure approached through the endless halls of shimmering code and starlight. Eldron, the man the pyers of Avarice knew as Mythos, stopped beside her, following her gaze toward the distant world beyond the veil. "You're watching them," he said quietly.

  Lumina nodded. "Yes." The burning apartment flickered in the air before them like a memory. The boy running through the rain, the infant in his arms. "They're interesting," she said. Eldron studied the scene for a moment, then sighed softly. "You always say that when something is about to cause trouble."

  Lumina giggled, the sound light, childlike, and somehow unsettling. "Papa," she said softly, her eyes never leaving the two fleeing figures. "Keep an eye on them." Eldron raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Lumina's smile widened slightly, something ancient flickering beneath the innocence. "When the time is right... guide them to me."

  For a moment, Eldron said nothing. Then he chuckled quietly. "Very well." Behind them, the vast world of Avarice shifted and breathed like a living thing. And somewhere far away, a boy ran through the rain, unaware that a Sovereign had already begun weaving his destiny.