Return of the Rejected Luna

Night Of Chaos

As the monstrous shadow loomed over the market, dread seeped into everyone’s bones―none of the present Talents stood a chance against an A-grade monster, and going against the creature would be akin to a death sentence.

Aerith’s heart was a restless mess as she thought about Matthias. She could barely suppress the turmoil in her chest, a storm of anger and fear threatening to consume her. ‘How could he make such a reckless decision?’

Growing up presumably without talent, Aerith had always been treated as an outcast of her pack, denied every chance to prove her worth. But Matthias has been the first to truly see her, to recognize her strength.

And now, in the face of such overwhelming danger, how could she simply abandon him?

The others pulled Aerith away, dragging her from the chaos as she helplessly watched Matthias disappear into the heart of the mutant market. Her throat tightened with fear, and her mind raced, but her body resisted.

“Matthias!” she screamed, her voice raw. “I swear, I’ll come back for you!”

But right now, her priority was Melena, who lay limp between her and Aria, barely conscious. Her condition was deteriorating rapidly. The mutant’s essence in her body had flared up, reacting violently to the presence of the A-grade monster.

Aerith fought back a shiver at the sight. 

In that fleeting, agonizing moment before Matthias had disappeared, his eyes had met hers. The silent plea in his gaze was unmistakable—a call for her to protect Melena. He trusted her once again, even when she didn’t fully trust herself. 

Theodore hurriedly led them out through the narrow tunnel, keeping them just ahead of danger. But with every twist and turn, Aerith’s anxiety gnawed at her. Melena’s breathing grew shallower with each step.

By the time they emerged back into the city, panic had spread like wildfire. 

Word of the Talents fleeing the mutant market had already reached the streets, sending the common folk waves of confusion and fear. 

The talents from the police bureau had arrived, swiftly sealing off the area. Aerith’s gaze drifted to the disheveled figure of an exquisitely handsome young man among the crowd, Winslie. His usually composed demeanor was frayed at the edges.

The moment their gazes locked, Winslie moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between them in a single breath. Without hesitation, he pulled the group into his arms, gathering them as close as his reach allowed. 

His embrace was tight, desperate, as though he feared losing them. Aerith felt the faint tremor in his hands, his fingers gripping tighter than before. 

Aria’s voice broke the fragile silence, her words barely holding together through her sobs. “We’re sorry, Winslie,” she choked out, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We shouldn’t have come here without your permission.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Winslie whispered, his arms slowly loosened, releasing them all. He stepped back, his eyes fixed on Melena. 

“Melena,” Winslie breathed, tenderly cupping her cold, bloodless face with both hands. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “There’s someone who’s going to heal you completely.”

The soft whisper of his words washed over the group, easing the tension that had coiled in their chests. Hope flickered in their eyes for a moment, a fragile light amid despair. But Winslie’s expression darkened as his gaze swept over them, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Where’s Matthias?” Winslie’s voice hardened suddenly, a sharp edge cutting through the calm. 

“Winslie…” Theodore faltered, his voice caught in his throat, unable to meet Winslie’s piercing gaze.

Winslie straightened, his expression calm but impossible to read.

“Theodore,” Winslie’s voice cut through their silence like the c***k of a whip. “Return to the dorm. Don’t step outside until I come back.”

Theodore hesitated but nodded as the others followed. However, Aerith stepped forward, her eyes steely with resolve. “I’m coming with you.”

Winslie’s gaze shifted to her, a brief flicker of something unreadable passing across his face before his features hardened again. “Don’t mistake your small success in patching up Melena for a free pass to do whatever you want.”

Aerith’s jaw clenched, but she held her ground. “Matthias matters to me just as much as he does to you. You can’t expect me to sit idle while he’s out there, risking his life. I won’t hide in some corner, waiting for it all to end.”

A dangerous silence followed. Winslie’s eyes darkened as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. His voice dropped, low and cold. “What makes you think you understand?” 

“What…” Aerith hesitated at the sudden approach, taking a step back. 

“How could you possibly understand the weight I bear for my people?” Winslie’s voice cut through the air, his sharp gaze fixed on Aerith. “Do you think you are the only one who cares about Matthias?” He stepped closer, his words biting. “Are you suggesting they don’t care, abandoning him to danger?”

“I… didn’t mean that,” Aerith’s breath hitched, the words striking harder than she expected. Still, she swallowed the pain, steadying herself. “I understand you are worried, Winslie. I’m not blind to it. But I will not be a burden to you.” 

Winslie’s gaze softened for just a moment, his voice quieter. “Aerith, Neo doesn’t need your reckless bravery right now. If you really don’t want to make this harder, you’ll go back. You’ll stay safe.”

That was it. Aerith’s patience shattered like glass. 

She had heard this before—too many times. The rejection, the constant reminder of her limitations. It echoed back to the days of her pack, where she was always the one told she wasn’t enough.

Her breath steadied, but her heart ached. “I thought Neo was different,” she said, her voice soft but cutting. “I thought I had finally found a place I belonged. But it seems I was wrong.”

Winslie blinked, caught off-guard by her words, but Aerith wasn’t done.

“I have accepted that trust isn’t earned overnight. I won’t blame you for that. But if you think my concern is unnecessary—” she paused, taking a sharp breath “—then I’ll act alone. I will save my friend, with or without your permission.”

She turned on her heel, ready to leave, but Winslie grabbed her wrist, his eyes wide with a flash of panic. “Aerith, wait—what are you doing?”

Her eyes, cold and unwavering, locked onto his. “I’m leaving Neo. You don’t have the right to stop me anymore.”

A strange, unreadable emotion flickered in Winslie’s eyes. But before Aerith could fully grasp it, the moment shattered. A fresh wave of panic surged through the crowd, their terrified screams snapping her back to the chaotic reality around them.

Aerith’s eyes widened in sheer horror as the familiar sound of shimmering scales sliced through the air. A dark, hulking shadow stretched behind her, growing larger with each step. 

The mutant had found its way out of the tunnel. Its size—now fully visible—was far beyond what Aerith could comprehend back in the confined space of the market.

Screams erupted, and people scattered, running in every direction. Amidst the chaos, Winslie’s voice cut through, “Retreat!” He barked at Theodore and the others. Without hesitation, they nodded and bolted out of the place. 

Aerith’s stomach churned as her thoughts spiraled toward the darkest possibility, ‘If the mutant had escaped…could Matthias already be…?’

Her breath hitched, and she refused to finish the thought. 

Winslie’s hand was still gripping her wrist, and their gazes met again. His lips moved, and his face was pale with an unspoken plea. He wanted her to run.

But her body refused. 

It was as if her feet had fused with the ground beneath her, unwilling to budge. The mutant’s massive, scaled body moved with unnatural grace, its beady eyes fixated on the fleeing crowd. Droplets of fresh blood clung to its fangs, the sickly sweet scent of death filling the air. 

Just as the mutant lunged, ready to unleash a devastating attack, a blur sliced through the chaos. The sharp clang of steel meeting the mutant’s scales echoed like a battle cry. 

Before the people could comprehend what had happened, a figure landed with the grace of a falling petal, the elegance of her putting her sword back to its sheath mesmerizing. She tucked a lock of short, raven hair behind her ear, her crimson eyes glinting with a lethal allure. 

Before the mutant could even shriek, its body was torn apart by another swift, precise strike, carving through its flesh. Slowly, its enormous body began to collapse, and the poisonous fluid leaking from its wound froze midair, held back by an unseen force. 

Aerith’s eyes widened as she noticed the man behind the intervention— a figure floating gracefully in a white robe as though he commanded the very air around him. 

Just as the crowd braced for the mutant’s weight to crash, the mutant’s body ignited midair, engulfed in flames. A third figure descended, flames dancing along his hand, burning with raw energy. 

Aerith’s gaze locked onto a pair of familiar purple eyes, and recognition hit her like a bolt of lightning.  

Her chest tightened painfully, a mix of longing and fear swirling within her. Instinctively, her hands slipped into her sweater pocket, fingers wrapping around the small item there, clutching it tightly like a lifeline in a storm.

‘Mate…’  her wolf howled in agony.

Aerith’s world began to fade, all the sounds vanished replaced the restless thrumming of her heart as she stared at him, and then his gaze shifted towards her.