Year: 1573 A.W.

  Location: D.S.O. Headquarters, Sector 9B, New Tokyo

  Within the D.S.O. headquarters, several intelligence personnel gathered in the Tactical Command Centre (TCC). The sound of keyboards echoed through the dark room. The blue light of a hundred screens cast a cold glow across the vast room. Suddenly, the door opened. Its hinges made no sound as the invading white light slowly stretched across the command centre, and the room responded. Eyes turned, typing stopped, and the atmosphere held still. A woman entered through the blinding white light, her stride almost robotic. Her black heels struck the marble floor with sharp, even thumps as she closed the distance to her target. She paused. Lifting her chin, she spoke with a perfect, measured rhythm.

  “Associate Director Reco, we have contained the source.” She paused again, her purpose clear. She was there to deliver the news of containment. The man before her turned his head slightly, studying her for a moment, then turned fully to face her.

  “Where is this source?” he asked. The woman raised two fingers, offering to lead him there directly. He lowered his chin in silent approval.

  As the two left the Tactical Command Centre, the associate Director raised his hand in a small gesture before vanishing into the white light. As the door closed slowly behind them, the large LED screen at the back of the room dimmed, leaving the entire space as dark as the night sky. A sky lit only by a hundred blue stars. The pair continued their stride down narrow corridors. Each turn was sealed shut by the heavy thud of thick, metal containment gates. The walls glowed with a stark white light. They turned again. Another gate sealed shut. Then another, and another, until they reached the final checkpoint. Ahead of them stood a grand entrance, white as snow, with black-lined edges. A number was etched into its centre:

  001

  The Associate Director stepped forward. His pristine black suit stood out sharply against the white walls of the long corridor. He raised his hand, placing it directly on the large number. A loud, mechanical hiss broke the silence, curling around the ears of the female agent. She stepped back instinctively as the door began to open. But her gaze was not on the door or even on the darkness spilling through the widening gap. It was locked on the Associate.

  Most doors and gates within D.S.O. outposts responded to presence. This technology, developed by the Science and Technology Division, allowed automatic access based on an individual's V1 signature. To trigger the automation, an individual or group's total void capacity had to exceed the national standard for C-rank agents.

  But the man in front of her was no ordinary C-rank. He was an Associate Director, second only to The Six, and by default, an A-rank. The woman took another step back; her legs trembled. She glanced at the ground, trying to focus on anything other than the figure before her, but it did not help. The image of the associate burned in her mind. His black suit. The shroud of intense energy that surrounded him. It flashed again. This time, she saw his head slowly turn toward her. Two pitch-black eyes seemed to stare past hers, deep into her soul. The pressure was too much, and so, a painful, guttural screech tore from her throat, ripping through the silence. Then it stopped. The screech, the pain, even the suffocating pressure, all of it was gone.

  “Are you okay?” The voice came from ahead.

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  She looked up, her gaze settling on the white gate still rising. She glanced right, then left. Nothing had changed. Slowly, she turned her head toward the Associate, wary of what she had just seen, and yet there was simply nothing. He just stood there, hands on the huge gate, looking puzzled.

  He asked again this time his voice was stern.

  “Are you awake, Agent?”

  She snapped to attention. “Y-yes, sir! Sorry, sir!”

  He looked at her for a moment. Disappointment crossed his face before he turned and continued forward. The woman followed shortly after. They had arrived. Containment Chamber 001.

  A black room. Devoid of light, except for the lines of white that illuminated the ground and walls. The chamber was vast, its edges stretching far wider than the eye could see.

  The pair continued down the path, their shoes echoing with each step. The female agent glanced at the associate before her. They had been walking in silence for thirty seconds. Half a minute of pure tension.

  Suddenly, a door appeared before the pair. Its white silhouette had emerged from the void of darkness, as though it had materialised from nothing. As the two approached, it slowly began to open. There was no creak, no sound of parting air as the edges pushed against the breeze, just pure silence, and the white light that poured through the door. The agent covered her eyes as the blinding light was too strong in contrast to the darkness. As her hands lowered, the entire situation became clear. The containment, guarded entrance, the Pillar who stood within the small room, and the small child who sat on the green couch.

  “Welcome! We’ve been waiting for like, ages y’know!”

  The associate glanced toward the tall figure who stood beside the girl, then lowered his gaze toward the figure's right hand. There it is, he thought. The mark of the Dawn Blades. To think he’d wear it so openly though…

  The pair continued towards the little girl with careful strides. Despite the presence of a Holy Pillar, they could not afford to agitate a being they did not fully understand. Slowly, the associate lowered his stance, resting on one knee. He reached forward, carefully attempting to hold the small hands before him. He looked down, and his breath paused. The wounds she bore. The scars. Neglect and a blood-stained cloth wrapped around her arm. His breath resumed as his second knee dropped to the ground, his hands wrapping around the little girl's own. The room fell silent. Then The Associate looked up, directly into the girl's eyes, covered by a curtain of blue hair. He slowly brushed it aside, revealing tired eyes. The eyes of someone who had lived through hell. He held her once more. Then he spoke.

  “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, alright?” His voice was soft, careful. “My name is Reco. I work here. We’re not going to hurt you, ok? Nobody here will. Not anymore.”

  The girl did not respond, nor did her eyes move. Reco swallowed, then continued, lowering his voice further.

  “I know things have been very hard for you. I know people were cruel. I know you were blamed for things that were not your fault.” Her eyes remained empty. “That wasn’t right,” he said quietly. “None of it was.” He paused, choosing his words. “But you’re not alone anymore”.

  Suddenly, the girls’ gaze snapped up, jumping immediately to Reco’s. “Where are my parents?” Silence filled the room. The Pillar behind her lowered himself, sitting on both knees. He wanted to comfort her, hold her, sing her a song, perhaps. But he knew this was not his time to speak.

  “Mommy, daddy.” She looked at Reco. “Where are they?”

  Reco reached for her hands, slowly guiding them toward her heart. His own hands were visibly shaking as they neared Akari’s chest. Then, gently, he placed them over her heart.

  “They are here,”

  Akari’s eyes widened. Here? For a moment, there was silence, and then it all came crashing down. Loud, sharp sobs tore from her chest as her body folded inward. Her hands clenched against her own clothes, her shoulders shook violently as she gasped for air between cries. Tears streamed down her face, soaking into the fabric beneath her eyes. She tried to speak, to say something, anything, but the words collapsed into sobs before they could form. Reco’s gaze pivoted to the Music Pillar before him. “Perhaps, Lord Takashi, a song to ease her pain?” Takashi paused, then his right hand rose, fingers resting lightly against the white cloth bound around his eyes. He whispered, barely moving his lips.

  “Akari…”