"What do you want to do next?"

After hearing Xun Xun out, Night Frost asked, her voice a cool stream under moonlight. She knew she couldn't change his fate; all she could offer was an open ear and a lantern of advice.

Xun Xun said he'd work for a while, then drift across the world, hunting the meaning that comes after breaking a cage.

He patted his pocket and fished out a medal-sized metal shard, silver lines etched like frost. A faint halo of Mana clung to it. A Magic Stone was set in its back, ready to feed it in need.

Night Frost's eyes were hawks; at a glance she knew those lines were an Array Pattern. With a switch, even a commoner could use this Magic Tool.

It wasn't a finished Magic Tool, more a half-born thing. The texture felt rough, the base carrying the Array Pattern was brittle—four or five uses, then dust.

Xun Xun said it could condense a Mana round at its heart, then the Array Pattern on the silver face would sling it forward. Night Frost glanced at the Arcane Firearms on her hip; in some bones, this was shockingly similar.

But an Arcane Firearm hides its Array Patterns deep, while this piece wore them bare. She skimmed the lines and saw stacked Formations, each carved with impossible finesse, not a human hand.

Xun Xun tried to gift her the silver piece—to repay a kindness, and to bank a favor for the day a storm hit.

Night Frost let the silence settle, then refused. She didn't need it. On Array Pattern lore she was no novice; theory ran deep even if her carving didn't. She could name the Formation on that silver.

And after this, they likely wouldn't cross again. She was half a wanted shadow; he was a rich family's young scion. Their roads forked like rivers after rain.

Their bright, guileless campus days had burned to ash under shellfire and Chapter Three’s offensive. In that blaze, they chose different ideals, different roads.

Kaneko heard branches part in the distance; Night Frost heard it too. Kaneko didn't need to play lookout; Night Frost had only handed her a task, a paper fan to steer her away from the talk.

As a Cantata Two, Night Frost's senses reached farther, like wind over pines. In her mind, she sketched several First Symphony squads, moving under earpiece orders, pushing slow into the man‑made forest's depths.

Night Frost tugged Kaneko to go. Leaving Xun Xun wouldn't bring trouble; rescue would find him soon. And if not, he could walk out himself; the man‑made forest lay close to the lawn.

"Your name is…"

As she turned, Xun Xun lifted a charred hand and asked. After a beat of thought, she gave him her codename.

For safety, Night Frost left him an address. For this month at least, if he came, she could help. Then she swept Kaneko along and left the park.

They'd meant to tour the park as a breath before the mission, but the accident cut the day short like a snapped string. They'd planned to head back at dusk; now they wandered the streets, aimless leaves in a slow current.

Still, Night Frost didn't come up empty. District Twenty One truly hid dragons. Some groups could hire a Cantata Two to fight for them. And that eerie Monster—she felt it wasn't born of nature.

And Xun Xun—his people had a launcher much like an Arcane Firearm. The wealth and power behind him must be a deep well.

At twilight, after a lazy loop outside, they returned to the rental. The male host had clocked out early; with the landlady he danced around the kitchen fire. Only four bowls on the table, yet they tried to lay a feast fit for an emperor.

Night Frost had no appetite. She found a reason and slipped to the room with Kaneko. On her phone, she scrolled to the park’s news.

It said Abyss Monsters had invaded, their sludge killing dozens of civilians. No one knew why an Abyssal Rift opened there—no one but Night Frost and the ones who bred such beasts.

"What the hell! Who told you to sneak out!"

His father's roar cracked through the phone like a slammed door. He'd twisted every knob to keep Xun Xun home, and a foolish woman plus a few useless guards ruined it.

"Fine. Whatever. At least you're not dead." His voice stayed cold as iron.

Xun Xun shook his head. To his father, he was never a child, only an object that could be tossed away. Yet at times the frost thinned; his father feared even a scratch on him, feared he'd die. He'd say it often: You're my only child. I'm doing this for your own good.

Sometimes those words softened Xun Xun for a heartbeat, but only a heartbeat. He'd heard them a thousand times. He was tired. His father was tired.

A thought rooted like a thorn: his father loved him, but the chain was too heavy. It had locked him at home for over a decade. He'd only slipped out by his mother's gift, the silver metal piece.

But he'd chosen a poor road. He'd barely run a few steps before an Order Keeper from District Twenty One spotted him. Bodyguards hauled him back. He'd tried to fight with the Magic Tool, but security moved as one—grabbed him, took the Tool.

On the line, it was his father's plan laid bare—seize the Magic Tool, take him alive.

They didn't bring him home. The sludge had eaten his hand; it was almost ruined. By his father's order they drove him to an underground lab, a place that could fit him with a quality Mechanical Arm.

Xun Xun, an ordinary man, didn't dare buck two burly enforcers. Both wore mechanical prostheses, men in his father's pay. They weren't top-tier fighters, but they could hit like hammers.

The bodyguards took him to another natural park, the one with District Twenty One's largest artificial lake, a view people called the fairest. At the gate they bought tickets, then slipped a VIP card to the ticket seller. Her eyes lit. She skipped selling, hung a TEMPORARILY CLOSED sign, and led them toward the lake's heart.

Xun Xun clicked his tongue. This wasn't a lake; it ran to the horizon like a quiet sea. An artificial bay, really. He glanced east and west, trying to drink it all in, forgetting he was prey on a leash.

The four reached a lake pavilion. It only floated on the surface, yet it held secrets under painted wood. The seller scanned an iris. From the center came a crisp whirr of gears. Two wooden planks slid apart, exposing a hard metal disk.

She waved them on. The round sensed their weight and sank. When their heads dropped below the pavilion, the floor above sealed, cutting the last blade of light.

It wasn't the pitch-black he'd expected. Lights flared under the platform, a white wash making every edge sharp. He saw the walls and froze, eyes wide. He touched them with his good hand. That feel, that clarity—glass.

They stood inside a glass elevator built to swallow water pressure. He'd only seen such things in books. Today was his first true glimpse. The shaft was glass too. By the platform's glow, he watched the world beyond.

The clear skin of the water darkened with depth, the black pressing down like a night sky. Fish shadows wavered in it. In that dark, they looked feral—knife-teeth and hard skulls thudding the glass.

The seller had said the glass was tough. These small fish couldn't break the tunnel. Even a Cantata Two would need time to crack that special pane.

Xun Xun's nerves buzzed. As they neared the Abyss below, the fish outside knocked and scraped, a sharp, rising din. His heart hammered like a caged bird. He felt if he went farther, he'd never return.

But how could he turn? He couldn't beat the guards, not even with a Magic Tool.

He glanced at the seller. The woman radiated cold like winter stone, a chill you could see. Anyone with eyes knew not to cross her. He might be a pampered young master, but he wasn't blind.

"Sorry. The fish have been noisy lately. I’ll have them soundproof us."

Panels slid down on both sides of the glass. The fish scattered in a streak of scales. The baffles sealed the outer world, and silence fell like snow.

The cold pressed in. Gears unlocked a door under their feet. Light spilled through, and with it an endless chill.

"Is this a freezer?"

One bodyguard shivered.

The seller keyed in a code. A door opened. His movements turned theatrical, his body twisting into a grotesque arc. A grin bloomed too wide. At last he bowed, slow as a falling leaf.

"Welcome to the Holy Church's headquarters... District Twenty One's largest Modification Center, honored guests."