Chapter 37 – Shadows Behind Closed Doors

  Frostveil 9, 200

  Seven remained still, nestled beneath the warmth of freshly pressed linens.

  The infirmary breathed a sense of calm—its sterile light casting a gentle golden hue as enchantment runes pulsed softly along the stone walls. Outside, snow danced against the high windows, creating a serene backdrop punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the mana stabilizer.

  Seven’s form, seemingly fragile, lay there with an ethereal pallor, skin stretched taut over bone and bruised muscle. At the base of his neck, a faint blue glow flickered, reminiscent of a heartbeat—just beneath the stark number etched permanently into his skin: 07.

  The light flickered again, pulsing delicately in the silence.

  Then came the whisper.

  Soft. Broken. Almost lost to the world.

  “...Saya...”

  In the corner, Fluffy halted mid-bite, her cracker crumbling in her hand as she turned her ears toward the stirring sound, instinctively attuned to the uneasy whisper.

  She stepped cautiously toward the bedside, her voice barely rising above the whisper of the wind. “Did he just say... Saya?”

  Raven, leaning still against the far wall near the entrance, took a moment before her sharp gaze shifted to Seven.

  “That’s the third time he’s said it,” a deep voice resonated from the doorway.

  Ripper entered, arms crossed, his expression a mask of concern.

  “He's been murmuring ever since we pulled him from that snowfield,” he shared, a somber edge to his voice. “Always the same name, always the same tone. It’s not triggered by a memory—” he paused as Seven’s fingers twitched beneath the sheet, “—it feels more like a nightmare.”

  Fluffy's posture grew rigid. “You think it’s a nightmare?”

  “It could be,” Ripper replied, his voice tight with gravity. “Or perhaps something more profound. Have you ever heard someone whisper like that while appearing so far from peace?”

  In shared silence, the three of them watched as Seven’s breathing quickened, a deep furrow setting in his brows.

  His lips parted.

  “Don’t... please... not again—”

  His body convulsed slightly as the mana stabilizer flickered with an unstable pulse. The number on his neck shimmered—once, then twice—as a dark wave swept across the brand, corrupting its digits.

  Raven's eyes narrowed, focus intense. “That mark... it’s reacting to something.”

  “A curse?” Fluffy ventured, stepping back, unease evident in her tone.

  “Perhaps,” Raven mused, thoughtful. “Or maybe a binding. Whatever that mark signifies, it’s more than mere city-grade magic. This is raw magic, undone, foreign.”

  With a weak turn of his head, Seven’s face twisted in torment.

  His voice cracked again—filled with desperation.

  “Saya... get out of my head...”

  And then, silence enveloped the room.

  He stilled, trembling slightly, beads of sweat surfacing on his brow.

  Fluffy wrapped her arms around herself, her ears drooping with concern. “That... didn’t sound like just a dream.”

  Ripper’s expression darkened. “It wasn’t.”

  He turned to Raven, determination in his eyes. “Inform Miss Hopps. He’s burdened by more than scars—he’s carrying something profound.”

  Raven’s gaze lingered on the flickering mark, a weighty recognition settling in her expression.

  “Something... that’s still watching.”

  Dreamworld – The Crimson Veil

  Inside the Mind of Seven — Observed by Saya

  The void whispered softly.

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  It didn’t breathe with air; instead, it throbbed with the haunting rhythm of broken dreams, a heartbeat barely strong enough to sustain life. The surroundings were ethereal, mere remnants of a world that once was—drifting bones, shattered moons, and petals stained in shades of black and crimson floated through the emptiness.

  An ancient shrine hung upside-down in the sky, a surreal sight that invited curiosity and awe.

  And there, beneath it—

  Saya stood, her bare feet gliding over water that shimmered with an eerie red tint, reminiscent of blood.

  Her form flickered between her elegant humanoid shape and the intriguing, fanged Nekomata hiding just beneath the surface. The twin tails that trailed behind her danced with a gentle sway, leaving behind ephemeral ribbons of crimson that transcended the confines of reality.

  She took a deep breath, her glowing eyes radiating with intensity as she tilted her head thoughtfully.

  “He dreams of me... still?” she mused softly, her voice smooth and tinged with a longing that held a hint of playful irony. “Or perhaps it’s his dream in which I linger, unable to let go.”

  With each step she took, the space around her shimmered and distorted, leaving cracks that spider-webbed across the reflective water below.

  Floating beneath her, Seven lay peacefully, lost to consciousness within the realm of dreams.

  His closed eyelids fluttered as his subconscious danced with thoughts; beads of sweat glistened on his brow. The cursed mark on his neck glimmered ominously, the lines of “07” intertwining with tendrils of crimson decay that spread beneath his skin like watercolor in water.

  Saya lowered herself beside him, her fingers delicately brushing against the mark with a teasing softness.

  “Still resisting me, are we?” she purred, her sharp claws trailing along his collar. “You should have surrendered the moment my lips brushed against yours.”

  Leaning closer, her long strands of white hair cascaded over him like a veil of night, enveloping him in her presence.

  “But no... even in the depths of despair, you fought back. Even when wounded, you remained alert.”

  The world around them trembled gently.

  Fragments of Seven’s memories seeped into this dreamscape—an ice-coated rifle, a child’s laughter, silvery silhouettes screaming as they were engulfed by static—swift flashes of Saya lunging with her fangs bared—and the haunting echo of her kiss.

  A shiver of delight coursed through her at the remembrance.

  “That mark was never just an idle decoration, dear Human.” Her voice took on a darker, more tantalizing tone. “It’s a part of me now. And through it, I will always find you. I will always feed on you. Even when you close your eyes to the world, I’ll be there beside you...”

  A pulse of determination surged against her, primal and raw.

  Seven stirred.

  Not completely awake, but enough to set the water below into a wild frenzy, sending ripples through the shrine above.

  Saya rose to her feet, her smile dancing at the edges with enthusiasm.

  “Mmm... You still have some fight in you. That makes this all the more exciting!” She hovered her hand above his chest.

  A black sigil manifested in the air above his heart, glitching and refracting like fractured glass under the light.

  “Try as hard as you like. Run to your beloved city. Hide behind their protective walls. But know this—when you surrender to sleep…”

  She traced a claw through the air, a gesture intertwined with promise.

  “You will always return here. To me.”

  The mark on Seven’s neck pulsed with crimson fervor.

  Saya's eyes sparkled with a mix of bliss and determination.

  “And every time... I’ll be just a little closer.”

  War Rabbit Guild – Echoes and Whispers

  The atmosphere in the Guild hallways buzzed with an intriguing energy. Whispers traveled swiftly, weaving through mess halls, over weapon racks, past resting bunks, and alongside sharpening benches.

  “They say he faced an Arctic Frostbearer all by himself—”

  “One arm. No team. No backup.”

  “And he took down recruits effortlessly!”

  “Can you believe he’s not even from Novastra? Where could he be from?”

  Even the battle-hardened scouts felt a unique blend of curiosity and excitement. It wasn’t fear, but a thrilling sense of the extraordinary.

  A lone human survived what entire squads could not.

  Such feats remind us that sometimes, the unexpected can lead to the most remarkable stories.

  Strategic Council Room – The Weight of Change

  The sturdy oaken doors of the Guild’s council chamber gently thudded shut behind them, creating an atmosphere thick with anticipation. Inside, the walls came alive with intricate maps depicting patrol routes, beautifully detailed bestiary sketches, and diplomatic missives pinned to enchanted boards that shimmered with a hint of magical energy.

  At the head of the table, Miss Hopps stood tall, her arms crossed and expression tinged with both frustration and determination. Her striking red eyes sparkled with intelligence, revealing the weight of her responsibilities.

  To her right, the ever-watchful Raven stood composed, her hands clasped thoughtfully behind her back. Ripper, with his characteristic strength, leaned calmly against a support beam, while in a nearby corner, Lola scribbled down notes on a mana-inscribed tablet, her brow furrowed with concentration.

  Breaking the stillness, Miss Hopps spoke with unwavering conviction. “I’ve already got my hands full trying to maintain our neutrality in the City Council. And now we have an enigmatic human who is not only stronger than half our recruits but also possesses relic technology and magic that seems to glitch?” She let out a dry laugh. “Wonderful timing. Just what we needed, right?”

  Ripper remained steady, unfazed. “I told you, he’s not just ordinary.”

  “Remember, he survived alone,” Raven added, her voice soft but firm. “Wounded, starving, frostbitten—and yet he managed to take down an apex predator. He’s remarkable.”

  Lola looked up, her expression a mix of disbelief and intrigue. “He mentioned something about us being… ‘rabbit people.’” She paused for emphasis. “He doesn’t even know who we are?”

  “That’s right,” Raven confirmed, her tone serious. “He didn’t recognize Novastra at all. He has no knowledge of what War Rabbits are. This isn’t mere ignorance—this is real isolation.”

  Miss Hopps narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “And that’s precisely what concerns me. Even mercenaries know who we are.”

  As she began to pace, her armored boots echoed softly against the rune-carved stone floor. “The War Faction in the Council already believes we’re too independent, too cozy with Deogon. Introducing this human anomaly into the city—one who could easily upset the balance of an apex-class W.M.B. territory—is seriously risky.”

  Lola hesitated, weighing her words carefully. “The public won’t be pleased, either. Even if he’s human, many within the walls believe that trusting outsiders means jeopardizing their safety. The Guild is perhaps the only group that truly understands the world beyond those gates.”

  Hopps clenched her fists, her frustration palpable. “Exactly. And now, we’ve invited the unknown right into their living room.”

  Then Ripper took a step forward, his voice resolute. “We should take responsibility.”

  Miss Hopps glanced at him with curiosity. “Are you suggesting we claim him?”

  “Not claim him,” Ripper clarified, “but observe him. Train him. Assess what he can do. He’s not a soldier yet, but he possesses a strength that kept him alive when even our scouts would have faltered.”

  “What happens if we don’t?” Hopps questioned, a hint of concern in her tone.

  Raven spoke softly, her gaze steady. “Then the Aku Clan might find him first.”

  A hush fell over the room, and Miss Hopps took a deep breath, then turned to face her friends with purpose.

  “We keep this under wraps,” she decided. “No reports to the Council. No press. No names in the records. As far as Novastra knows, he’s simply a survivor. Just a lost soul wandering in from the frost.”

  Lola paused, her pen hovering thoughtfully above her tablet. “So, what do we call him?”

  Miss Hopps gazed out of the frosted window toward the spire rising majestically above the city. “We call him what he truly is… a storm we weren’t quite prepared for.”

  With a determined smile, she extended her hand to Ripper.

  He clasped it firmly, locking eyes with her. “Guild before politics,” he affirmed.

  “Guild before pride,” she echoed back, confidence radiating from her. Together, they were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

  Infirmary – Watch Duty

  The gentle hum of the mana stabilizer buzzed softly beside the bed, its glowing rune-lit rings casting a warm, reassuring light over Seven’s still figure.

  Fluffy perched on a nearby stool, her long legs playfully swinging with energy, her chin resting thoughtfully in her palm. While the sparkle in her eyes seemed to have dimmed a bit, it was not due to boredom, but rather deep reflection on the moments they had endured together.

  “You know, for someone who’s faced the War Rabbits, you’re quite the sleeper,” she whispered, her gaze drifting to the glowing mark on his neck—a reminder of his bravery.

  In response, Seven’s lips parted slightly, breath whispering the name “Saya” again, accompanied by a soft groan as he shifted under the cozy blanket, as if reaching for something greater beyond the confines of the room.

  Fluffy’s ears perked up at the sound, drawing her in closer. She leaned forward in curiosity, but then sat back with a thoughtful sigh.

  “What you encountered out there... it’s tattooed your spirit deeper than any wound,” she mused, throwing a glance toward the door, half-expecting it to burst open with Miss Hopps issuing new commands.

  But only silence filled the air, broken by the rhythmic rise and fall of the man who might change everything.

  Her gaze softened. “Let’s hope you’re not as broken as you look,” she said, her smile returning, tiny yet resilient, infused with hope and curiosity.

  Outside, the wind moved gently through the narrow alleys of Novastra, stirring up frost and a subtle unease, while something new began to awaken beneath the surface—a force that yearned to rise and be heard.