Sevira, near Pulse Central
After resting at a hidden inn, Haneul knew Byeol should have already arrived in the city.
It was time to reunite. Every minute they wasted increased the chances of being found.
As they stepped outside, Haneul activated the Illuminance Stone in his possession.
Not all stones worked the same way — this one, in particular, was a tracking stone.
When activated, these stones could detect other sources of Illuminance... and even its users, as long as their Vision was active. This one, however, had an additional feature: it had been attuned with particles of Byeol's Illuminance, allowing it to locate him within a maximum radius of roughly 1.5 kilometers —even if his Illuminance levels had dropped to the absolute minimum.
After walking for a while, the stone finally reacted.
A faint... intermittent glow... growing brighter with every step they took.
"Come on, Nuri. This way."
Both Haneul and Byeol already knew where the path would lead them: Pulse Central—the southern station of Solstium and the departure point of the Aurora Prime X1, the high-speed magneto-orbital transport system.
As they drew closer, the glow in Haneul's hand became increasingly intense.
"Here."
"Is that him?" Nuri asked, her eyes fixed ahead.
"Yeah... he's already here."
By the time they reached the station entrance, Byeol was already waiting.
Leaning against his motorcycle, he was calmly eating a fatiada* while drinking a beer, as if he had all the time in the world.
But the moment he spotted Nuri...
He casually turned slightly on his bike, looking away. He didn't want to be caught in that state, so he hurriedly took one last bite, finished the rest of his beer in a single gulp, and wiped his mouth with a napkin — all without looking directly at them.
By the time Nuri and Haneul reached the entrance, Byeol was already standing beside them.
"I already bought the tickets." He activated his Halo, projecting the confirmation into the air.
Without another word, the three of them set off for Vireya — the former capital of the Empire... and the possible location of the mysterious client of the Voice of the Blind.
Douren, Elyr Tower
After a full night's rest, Rook decided to enjoy his day off.
He had recently returned from a straightforward mission — serving as the bodyguard for a famous Visionary.
Although the assignment had involved very little risk, the pay had been generous.
Even so, something continued to bother him.
His confrontation with Byeol still lingered in his mind.
He knew he needed to become stronger... and that easy missions would never get him there.
Throughout that day, he would have to decide his next step — what kind of mission to accept, which path to follow to achieve his goals.
There were only six months left until June 27.
The decisive day was approaching fast.
Having slept in late, he had only the afternoon left to spend.
He searched for something to distract him — anything that could pull him away, even if only temporarily, from that constant weight.
The following morning, he would decide.
The Tower of Elyr was just one of many ranker refuges scattered across the world. Their internal structure generally followed a similar pattern, although the architecture and activities varied greatly from continent to continent.
On the surface, the tower was a tourist attraction.
Constantly visited by curious onlookers and admirers, fascinated by every detail of the monument.
But hidden within its corridors... there was something more.
On one of the stairways leading to the top, there was a door.
Old. Locked. With no visible keyhole... no apparent mechanism of any kind.
To an ordinary civilian, it went completely unnoticed. It sparked no curiosity. It was simply... another overlooked detail.
But to a ranker?
It was impossible not to notice.
The security guards stopped curious visitors.
And the rankers... moved forward.
The moment they activated their Vision —their Illuminance — an ocular scan was performed. The door, which had seemed solid only moments before, dissolved into a translucent hologram.
And then...
the true path revealed itself.
On the other side, a magnetic elevator awaited.
Silent.
It descended deep... seventy meters below ground.
Down there, hidden beneath Douren, stretched an underground city covering just over one square kilometer.
A world of its own.
When the elevator doors opened...
There was no transition.
No preparation.
You stepped directly into the heart of the refuge.
The central area was vast and open —almost overwhelming at first glance. The architecture blended elegant arches, meticulously crafted stone, and modern structures integrated with surgical precision, creating a harmonious contrast between tradition and technology. The place had an identity all its own.
But there was something else.
Something most people only noticed after a few seconds.
The people.
Or rather... the way they moved.
Every worker in that refuge was visually impaired.
Without exception.
They served drinks, cooked, negotiated, cleaned, transported equipment —performing every task with a level of precision that, at first glance, seemed impossible to comprehend.
Small devices attached to their bodies, discreet implants, and robotic mechanisms operated in perfect synchronization with artificial intelligence systems, guiding every movement, every decision.
There was no hesitation.
No mistakes.
It was a perfect system.
And above all... an exclusive one.
That kind of integration had never been approved by governments. Up on the surface, the visually impaired struggled every day just to survive, ignored by systems that had never been built for them.
There, within that refuge...
they were indispensable.
The invisible foundation of the entire city.
From there, the refuge was divided into three distinct sections.
To the left, the chaotic pulse of the refuge.
Lights, sounds, and voices intertwined in a constant flow. Casinos where fortunes changed hands within minutes. Restaurants serving cuisine from every corner of the world. Dimly lit bars filled with dangerous conversations. Nightclubs where the music swallowed silent negotiations. And farther in, places where pleasure and decadence blended together without rules — without limits.
It was the side where Rankers forgot who they were... or reinforced exactly that.
At the center, a long corridor served as the axis between the two worlds.
Calmer — but no less intense.
Small cafés lined the pathway, serving as meeting spots for discreet negotiations. Even so, the true heart of that corridor was its shops: storefronts filled with weapons, modified equipment, and rare artifacts. Every item carried a story... and almost always, blood attached to it.
Among those shops, the mission acceptance stations stood out.
Digital panels floated through the air, contracts projected in layers of light. Names crossed out. Rewards increasing in real time. Captures. Assassinations. Escorts. Investigations. Relic recovery.
Everything had a price.
And everything could be accepted.
To the right...
silence.
Or something close to it.
The dormitories stretched across several levels, organized with absolute precision according to each hunter's ranking. The higher the rank, the more isolated, the safer... the more luxurious.
Top-ranked Rankers shared no space.
In fact, they shared nothing.
There, far from the noise and constant tension, they rested, planned... or simply observed.
Because even within that refuge... no one truly trusted anyone.
And amid all of it, there was one truth that was hard to ignore:
the only place in the world where the visually impaired had a functional, dignified... essential system was also one of the most dangerous places on the planet.
At its core, that underground city was more than just a hideout.
It was an ecosystem.
A place where power, money, and survival coexisted on a fragile line — where every step could bring someone closer to the top... or bury them forever.
Rook, seemingly eager to earn more money— and above all, to test and expand his strategic abilities — headed toward the bars and casino district to play Vantis.
A strategic game similar to chess, played between Rankers on a board where, in addition to the traditional movement of pieces, Illuminance could also be used in a limited way. Through it, players could alter movements, reinforce pieces, predict an opponent's actions, or even manipulate positions.
Victory depended not only on strategy but also on the intelligent management of that energy.
Popular throughout the refuges, the game was frequently played for high stakes: money, artifacts, information... or even missions.
Every match became a tense confrontation where the risk extended far beyond the board.
After defeating several lower-ranked Rankers, another Ranker stepped forward.
Arvessa.
The current Ranker No. 91.
She approached the table, locked eyes with Rook, and casually asked,
"Mind if I try?"
Her presence was impossible to ignore — not because she demanded attention, but because of the quiet way she seemed to command the space around her.
Her long, flowing hair blended deep shades of blue with bright turquoise highlights.
From certain angles, it almost seemed to emit its own light, creating a mesmerizing contrast against her smooth skin and delicate facial features.
Her eyes, intense and cold, carried a strange mixture of curiosity and detachment — as though she observed everything, yet rarely allowed herself to be understood. There was an almost calculated precision behind them... without ever losing the natural elegance that defined her.
Among the Rankers, she was known for her strategic mind... and for something far more difficult to explain. They said that whenever she asked the right questions, the answers simply appeared — even when they shouldn't.
She dressed in a bold urban style. The vibrant yellow of her jacket contrasted sharply with the darker tones of the rest of her outfit, making her stand out in any crowd. Nothing about her appearance seemed random. Every detail carried intention — not to attract attention, but to express identity.
Without much conversation, the duel began...
As time passed, it became increasingly clear that the Vantis board favored Rook. His pieces were well positioned, his control of the board was overwhelming, and his advantage kept growing—a victory that seemed to be only a matter of time.
But the instant his confidence reached its peak...
Arvessa tilted her head ever so slightly.
And something in her eyes changed.
Almost imperceptibly.
"You seem very strong... I wonder what your weakness is."
Rook frowned suspiciously, but answered anyway.
"Hmm... maybe it's the fact that I try to analyze too many possibilities. Sometimes... it takes away my ability to react to the unpredictable."
"I see... Were you defeated like that recently?"
Silence settled between them for a heavy second.
"...Yeah. A Dimensional Vision bearer. I barely escaped."
As he spoke, his hands continued moving the pieces — but it was no longer the same game. His moves became more linear... more predictable.
Arvessa advanced piece after piece with almost cruel calmness.
"Hah... Looks like you still have a lot to improve. Do you consider yourself strong?"
Rook hesitated.
That question...
wasn't about the game.
It touched something much deeper.
"What kind of question is that...?" His voice came out tenser than he expected.
"I may not be the strongest... but I'm one of the people who has improved the most over the past year. On the 27th, you'll see — I'll surpass you."
Arvessa didn't answer immediately. She simply slid the final piece across the board with absolute precision.
"Illuminate" — Arvessa had won the match.
A heavy silence settled over the table.
"Haha... maybe you will," she said, lifting her gaze slightly. "But this time... you're still behind me."
Arvessa's eyes locked onto his for a brief instant — and suddenly, everything disappeared.
The pressure. The confusion. The presence that had wrapped around him like an invisible web.
She deactivated her ocular power.
Rook slumped back into his chair, his body heavy, as though he had just emerged from deep underwater.
For a moment, he couldn't even tell when he had stopped truly playing.
"Come on! I'll buy you a drink with the money you just won me, haha."
Without giving him time to react, Arvessa grabbed Rook by the hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him away from the table that still sat beneath the weight of his defeat.
Half dazed, he followed as she guided him through the central corridor, where the lights were beginning to grow brighter and the distant sounds of bars and nightclubs became clearer.
With every step, the atmosphere changed. The lights became more vibrant, and the distant sounds of bars and clubs took shape— pulsing music, overlapping voices, laughter, and bets shouted through the air.
With each passing step, the world became more alive.
And yet, inside Rook's mind... a strange emptiness remained.
He was still trying to understand...
when he had lost control.
How is that possible? It was so subtle...
Hours passed almost unnoticed, dissolving beneath neon lights, alcohol, and conversations that grew lighter with time, as though the night itself had decided to soften the weight of what had happened. Eventually, they left the chaos of the refuge behind and made their way toward the dormitories.
The walk was quieter.
Not uncomfortable...
but filled with uncertainty.
The door closed softly behind them.
Rook leaned against it for a moment, still trying to organize his thoughts, while Arvessa walked around the room with her usual calmness, as though everything that had happened had simply been... another carefully calculated move.
This time, however, there was no board.
And for the first time that night...
Rook didn't know exactly what game he was playing.