Chaos had begun to settle over Cradle's Tokyo HQ. Reports and frantic voices echoed through the halls as the highest-ranking operatives scrambled to assess the fallout from Spire's reckless attack.

In her private office, Commander Akio Kurzawa stood alone. The city stretched out beneath her, lights glittering like fallen stars, but there was no beauty in her expression. Her hands were clenched behind her back, shoulders tense, as she replayed his words over and over in her mind.

"You bastard… Count your days, Reiden Vale," she whispered through gritted teeth. "Because when you fall from heaven, I'll be the one to drag you down into hell."

She forced herself to inhale, to keep her emotions caged. If she lost her composure now, everything could spiral further out of control. Siren's capture had already become a political nightmare, and Akio knew, no, she felt, that the situation was about to get worse.

Her thoughts were shattered when the sound of rapid footsteps rushed down the corridor. Whoever was coming wasn't calm. They were afraid, and it was most likely that it had something to do with Spire or Siren.

The office doors slammed open. An operator stumbled inside, uniform dishevelled, sweat glistening on his brow.

"What is it, soldier?" Akio's voice cracked like a whip.

"Ma'am, Spire… They've located Siren! But they opened fire in a public zone. Multiple civilian casualties, and…" He swallowed hard, visibly shaken. "A boy was critically wounded in the crossfire."

Akio's jaw locked. Of all the things she could tolerate, collateral damage like this was not one of them. Her voice thundered through the room:

"WHAT?!" The windows trembled. The operator nearly buckled under the weight of her fury. "Who the hell does Reiden think he is?!"

The young man flinched, words failing him.

"Get out," Akio ordered, pointing toward the door. "Mobilise clean-up and medevac teams immediately. Every trace of Spire's blunder is to be erased before the press even smells it. MOVE!"

"Y-Yes, Commander!" The operator bolted, disappearing down the hall.

Akio grabbed her jacket and was halfway to the communications centre when her desk lit up. A soft hum, a glowing square of metal, Cradle's advanced holo-link. She hesitated, knowing exactly who it would be.

She answered.

Reiden Vale's face flickered into view, perfect long silver hair cascading like moonlight, a mockingly calm smile curling his lips.

"Akio," he drawled, voice smooth as velvet. "What an unpleasant greeting. A face as beautiful as yours should never wear such an ugly scowl." He adjusted his crimson tie lazily. "Please… Relax."

Her fists trembled. "Relax?! Your soldiers attacked a civilian! Dozens injured! What's your game, Reiden?!"

Reiden chuckled, low and cold, like the purr of a predator.

"Ah… Civilans won't matter, I'm sure they'll be looked after, but." He paused as his smile grew longer. "The boy. Yes, I heard." He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing with amusement. "Don't concern yourself. That 'civilian'… Is far from ordinary."

Akio's breath hitched as her eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

Reiden leaned closer, purple eyes glinting like amethysts in shadow. "He's… Special. So special that betting my entire company on his survival would still be a losing gamble."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Vale." Akio replied bluntly.

"Oh, Akio…" Reiden's smile widened, but the warmth in it was hollow. "You'll understand soon enough. When you see his true nature, you won't hesitate. You'll want to put a bullet in his skull yourself."

Akio's face hardened, confusion flickering beneath her rage. "Kill… A boy?!"

Reiden didn't answer. His smirk faded into something colder, more calculating.

"Enjoy your cleanup, dear Commander Alberl-" He cut himself off with a faint laugh. "Ah, my tongue slipped. Goodnight."

"WAIT-"

The hologram shattered into static. Silence claimed the office once more.

Akio slammed her fist into the desk, splintering reinforced metal. Smoke curled up from the crack, her violet eyes glowing with restrained fury.

"Damn you, Reiden…" She hissed. "Just what the hell are you planning, and why would I want to get rid of that boy?" Her voice echoed with uncertainty.

*

As Aria ran.

Tokyo's night swallowed her whole as neon lights blurred past, faces, hands, murmurs of laughter and drunken shouts, all meaningless noise. Every time her shoulder slammed into a stranger, they cursed at her carelessness, but she didn't care. She didn't have the time to care. The weight of her guitar knocked against her back with each stride, as if reminding her that no matter how fast she moved, she couldn't outrun what she was.

"Ever since I got these powers… Everyone hated me," she thought, breath uneven. "Even before that, they said I was strange. But now… Now my voice doesn't just scare them, it hurts them. I can't talk to people without it twisting them, without it turning their smiles into screams. But him…" A flash of Kentaro's face, that absurd, reckless boy throwing himself between her and Spire's soldiers. "He embraced me. Protected me. Who… Who is he?"

She didn't know how long she had been running, through alleyways, across streets glowing under massive LCD screens, only that her lungs burned and her chest ached from more than exhaustion. When she finally stumbled into a forgotten park, a tiny strip of sand, swings swaying silently in the wind, an old slide gleaming dull silver under the moon, she nearly collapsed.

No crowds. No soldiers. No one.

Just her, the sky, and her cursed guitar.

Aria dragged her feet to the lone bench beneath a flickering lamppost. She sat down heavily, head tilted back, staring up at stars that barely pierced Tokyo's haze. Tears prickled her eyes before she could stop them. Hopelessness pressed like a weight against her chest.

"Can I trust him?" she whispered to the empty park. "Can I ever… Go back to being loved for me… And not for this?"

Her fingers fumbled for the worn guitar pick in her pocket. She pulled her guitar forward, the strap creaking softly, and began to play.

The sound wasn't loud, yet every note hung in the cool air heavier than thunder. A sorrowful melody bled out of her strings, grief in rhythm, loneliness in chord progressions, a plea to anyone listening, though there was no one here.

Or so she thought.

*CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.*

The sound shattered her fragile quiet.

Aria froze, pick slipping from her fingers.

She spun toward the trees at the edge of the park, panic clawing at her chest. Someone heard her. If it were a human, they could already be falling under her voice's spell, writhing in twisted euphoria.

"Who's there?!" She demanded, her voice breaking despite her attempt to sound fierce.

A woman's voice floated out from the shadows, low, lilting, unsettlingly calm:

"My, my… What a beautiful talent you have, dear little Siren."

Aria's stomach knotted. She had never heard this voice before, and yet… Something about it curled like smoke around her instincts, telling her not to trust it.

"Show yourself!" Aria shouted, stepping back, gripping her guitar's neck like a weapon. "Who are you?! What do you want with me?!"

From the trees came a soft laugh. "What do I want…? Hmm… Let me think." The voice curled into a playful hum. "I want the thing you cling to, the thing you claim to hate, yet still can't let go of."

"What I… hate but use?" Aria muttered, realisation sharpening her tone. Her grip tightened on her guitar. "You want my power."

"Ding, ding…" The voice chimed. "Correct. I want, no… I need your power."

Light bled through the shadows. A figure emerged, silver hair cascading like liquid under moonlight. Her eyes shimmered pink, not bright, not glowing, but deep and hypnotic, as if they could pull someone apart piece by piece.

She stepped fully into view: a white dress that looked like a wedding gown stitched with armour, steel plates fitted seamlessly over delicate curves, giving her the air of an angel sculpted for war. Every movement was grace itself, yet the air around her was… Wrong. Too still. Too sharp.

Aria's breath hitched. She had never seen beauty like this, but it wasn't human beauty. It was dangerous.

The silver-haired girl lifted a hand, palm open. "Please," she said softly, almost kindly. "Violence isn't necessary. I'm a girl who prefers to do things… Peacefully."

Aria's nails dug into her guitar's wood. "I'm not giving up my powers," she snapped, voice steady despite the fear threading through her. "That's a fact."

The girl's expression dimmed, just a flicker of disappointment. "Ah… Well. I thought I could be nice about it." Her lips curved back into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But if you won't give it willingly… I suppose I can wait."

"She really thought I'd just… Hand it over?" Aria thought, disbelief crackling like static through her nerves.

She straightened her back, forcing confidence into her trembling voice. "What's your name… And what do you want to do with my powers?"

The girl turned, her silver hair catching the moonlight. She spread her arms wide, as though embracing the night itself.

"My name," she said, voice rising like a choir's first note, "is Rin. And my goal…" Her smile stretched, proud, unflinching.

"To create the dream world. A world where nothing can go wrong. Where no one dies. Where no one suffers. A world that cannot be manipulated… Not by humans, not by Alberlines."

Aria's jaw slackened. "How… How is that even possible?"

"Well, dear Siren," Rin said sweetly, tilting her head, "it requires all Alberline powers… Gathered into one vessel. Then, and only then… Can the dream begin..."

Aria's thoughts spun. All Alberlines? She plans to take every single power? How many even exist? Tens? Hundreds?

Before she could speak again, Rin began drifting back toward the trees, the light around her dimming.

"Wait!" Aria shouted, voice cracking.

Rin didn't stop. Her voice floated back, softer now, fading with each step:

"Though you didn't let me have your power tonight... There will be another time… Where I'll take not just yours… But all of them."

And just like that, she was gone.

Aria stood alone under the flickering lamppost, the night pressing in.

"What… Even was that?" She whispered, clutching her guitar so tightly her knuckles burned. "Who… Even was that…?"

She turned slowly back toward the park's swings, but the stillness felt different now, like the city itself had started holding its breath...

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