Breakthrough

In the Eyes of the Hunter

Levi

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The cold night air bites at my skin as I follow the furie, my steps silent on the rooftops. Below, the wild spirit moves erratically, darting through alleyways like a wounded animal. Three figures pursue it, their movements unnervingly graceful, like predators closing in on their prey. They’re not human—that much is obvious. Their white, shimmering forms cut through the shadows, weapons of light drawn and ready.

I stay back, curious but cautious. Whatever this is, it’s not my fight. Not yet.

The furie lets out a guttural hiss, cornered against a crumbling brick wall. It writhes, its dark, smoke-like body pulsing with anger and desperation. One of the pursuers raises his weapon—a blade glowing with an ethereal light—and slashes through the air. The furie screeches as the blade cuts through it, disintegrating it into ash that scatters in the wind.

I expected more of a struggle, but it’s over in seconds.

That’s when I notice him—the one in the center, the leader. He steps forward, lowering his weapon, and something about him makes my chest tighten. He doesn’t speak at first, just surveys the space with an authority that feels too familiar. The others fall back, deferential, as if waiting for his command.

It’s the way he moves. Calm. Controlled. There’s something in the tilt of his head, the way he holds himself, that tugs at the edges of my mind. I can’t place it, but I feel like I’ve seen him before.

I step closer, my presence still hidden, but not for long.

He turns, his gaze slicing through the darkness, and locks eyes with me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, voice steady but not unkind.

I smirk, the shadows wrapping around me like a second skin. “Neither should you.”

His eyes narrow. The glow from his blade illuminates his face, but it’s the calm intensity in his gaze that unsettles me. “You’re a sinner,” he says. Not a question. A fact. “A remnant of the Underworld.”

I shrug, keeping my tone light. “I prefer the term traveler.”

One of the others, a shorter figure with sharp features, steps forward, weapon raised. “He’s a rogue spirit. Let’s end him.”

The leader doesn’t even glance his way. He raises a hand, halting the other. “No.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the silence stretching between us. There’s no hostility in his expression, only… curiosity. Or something close to it.

“You should leave,” he says quietly. “Furies hunt sinners like you. They’ll devour your soul and take your body for their own.”

I cross my arms, leaning against the edge of the building. “Why do you care?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he studies me, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “Be careful,” he says at last, voice lower, almost reluctant.

There’s something unsettling about him, something familiar I can’t shake. Before I can respond, he turns on his heel, the others following without question. They vanish, their forms dissipating into light, leaving me alone in the empty alley.

I stay there, unmoving, long after they’re gone. The city hums around me—distant traffic, flickering neon signs, the low murmur of life—but all I hear is the echo of his words.

Be careful.

I don’t need his warning. Furies don’t scare me. But he…

I exhale slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. There was something about him. Not his face—I didn’t recognize it—but the way he looked at me, the way he carried himself. It gnawed at me, like a memory I should have but don’t.

I shake off the thought and turn away from the alley, fading into the shadows. My mission remains the same: find out why I’m here, solve the riddle of my task, and move on. But this encounter… it complicates things.

If the furies are hunting me, I need to move faster.

And if that man is part of my past, I need to know why.

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Third Person POV

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In the heart of the Underworld, where darkness clung to every stone like a living thing, a summons echoed. The vast cavernous hall filled with sinners, daemons, and the broken remnants of souls—all drawn by the promise of a rare announcement. At the head of the assembly, a towering Devil stood, his form wreathed in shadows that shifted unnaturally. His voice boomed, deep and menacing, commanding absolute attention.

“There has been... a theft,” the Devil began, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “A mission has been stolen from under our very noses.”

A ripple of unease swept through the crowd, murmurs rising before the Devil silenced them with a single, piercing glare.

“This was no ordinary mission,” he continued, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. “It was crucial. Vital. And now, someone thinks they can play with powers far beyond their reach.”

Killian stood near the edge of the gathering, his silver eyes cold as ice, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze never left the Devil, burning with quiet fury. This wasn’t just any Devil—it was Valen, the one Killian hated more than any other, the one who had once betrayed him. The very sight of him set Killian’s blood boiling.

Valen’s smile twisted into something darker. “We know this thief is cunning, but be warned—those who tamper with fate will be consumed by it. There is no escaping the wrath of the Underworld.”

The crowd shuddered under the weight of his words. Yet Valen’s next sentence dripped with something more sinister. “And to the one who believes sabotage is hidden beneath layers of shadow, you will find that we are always watching.”

Killian’s jaw clenched. They knew. They didn’t have names, but they knew.

Valen’s gaze swept the crowd, lingering for a moment where Killian stood. Their eyes locked—a silent battle. Valen’s smile faltered, just for a second, as if he could feel the hatred radiating from Killian. But then, with a flourish of his cloak, he turned away.

As the assembly began to disperse, Killian’s fists tightened. Let them suspect. Let them hunt. He’d made sure Levi got out—and if they wanted to find him, they’d have to get through Killian first.

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