The late afternoon sun bathed the Syndicate's courtyard in soft gold. A rare moment of warmth. Dust drifted lazily through the air, the garden strangely peaceful for a place built on blood.
Ren and Emi sat beneath a lone cherry blossom tree. Its petals fluttered like snow around them. She was laughing—barely. Her smile weak but real. They had been tossing pebbles at a broken tin can, inventing their own little game. No rules. Just escape.
Ren watched the way Emi's eyes lit up every time the stone clinked off the can. She still had that in her—light. He didn't understand it, but he didn't mind it either. It was… calming.
"Ren, you're cheating," she laughed.
"I'm not," he said flatly. "You're just bad at it."
She nudged him with her shoulder, and for a second, he looked almost… human. A half-smile tugged at the edge of his mouth, more reflex than emotion. He didn't know why, but when she smiled, things felt quieter inside.
Then the guard called them.
And that stillness died.
They were escorted by two Umbra Division enforcers, black-suited and silent. Ren didn't blink as they walked. Emi, on the other hand, was visibly anxious—chewing her lower lip, eyes darting to every shadow like something might jump out and swallow her.
They stopped at a tall steel door.
One of the guards knocked once.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing the dark, cold chamber of Elder Daizen. No windows. Just candlelight and the weight of something unseen. The room smelled faintly of incense… and something older. Dust. Blood. Memories.
Daizen sat cross-legged at the far end, dressed in ceremonial robes, his face still and unreadable like a statue carved from grief itself.
Ren and Emi stepped inside.
The door shut behind them.
"You've been here long enough," Daizen said without lifting his eyes. "Long enough to understand what this place truly is."
Neither of them responded.
"This isn't a playground. And I didn't take you in out of charity."
Emi's body stiffened. Ren remained still.
"You live under the Syndicate now. You will serve the Syndicate," Daizen continued, his voice completely void of warmth. "Starting tomorrow, you'll begin your training."
Emi's eyes widened.
Daizen's gaze sharpened. "You'll become assassins."
Assassins.
The word hit like a gunshot. Emi froze, her breath caught in her chest.
"Your first mission will be assigned next week."
"You're joking…" she whispered, barely audible.
He wasn't.
Emi took a step back. "I—I wanted to help people. I wanted to save lives. I thought we would get to live a normal life—"
"There is no saving here, girl," Daizen interrupted. "Only survival."
She couldn't believe it. Was this what she left the hospital for? Was this what all that hope had been for?
Tears welled up. "You said we were safe…"
Daizen stood slowly. "Safety is a lie. Everything you thought you knew… was a lie."
Emi broke. She began crying quietly, trembling as she turned away, gripping the sleeves of her dress. Ren stared at her, confused. Why was she crying? What did she want him to say? He didn't understand.
He looked at Daizen, something simmering in his voice. "We'll go back to the hospital. We'll tell them what you're doing."
Daizen paused.
Then laughed.
It wasn't loud—it was deep, cruel, knowing.
"You think they'd believe two broken children?" His voice darkened. "You think I'd let you go?"
He stepped forward, looming over them. "You belong to me. I pulled you from hell, and if you try to run, I'll drag you back into it. Understand?"
Emi's knees buckled.
"I—I'm sorry," she stammered. "We'll do it. We'll do what you say… please, don't hurt us."
Daizen turned away as if bored already. "Dye your hair black, Ren," he said flatly. "We don't need anyone asking questions."
Then he waved his hand toward the door. "You may go."
Ren turned to leave.
But Daizen's voice halted Emi.
"You. Stay."
The door clicked shut behind Ren.
She stood frozen, alone.
Daizen walked around her slowly, like a vulture. "You're a kind girl. Too kind," he said. "So let me give you a choice."
Her breath caught.
"You kill Ren… and I'll let you go."
Her eyes widened. "What…?"
"Kill him, and you'll never have to take another life. I'll send you away. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere peaceful. You'll be free. Provide for you."
Her body shook. "You're lying…"
He leaned in closer. "You think I lie? Then you don't know me at all."
A pause.
"Or… he kills you, and he goes free. I've already given him the same choice."
Her eyes darted up. "What…?"
His voice lowered to a whisper, disturbingly gentle. "He may not show it, but he wants to survive. Everyone does. Think about it."
And just like that—
"You may go."
She stumbled back into her room like a ghost.
Ren entered her room immediately he heard her room door open.
She was sobbing.
Again.
"What's wrong?" he asked, brows pinched. He didn't understand. Why was she like this? Why did she keep crying?
She didn't answer. She just curled up on the edge of the bed, face buried in her knees.
Ren sat beside her awkwardly. "Emi?"
Still no answer.
"I…" he stared down at his hands. "I'll do the killing."
She blinked. "What?"
"When the mission starts. I'll do it. You don't have to kill anyone."
She looked up at him, eyes red, face pale.
He continued, "I'll kill them all if I have to. I don't care."
Her voice cracked. "You've never killed anyone before…"
"How hard could it be?" he shrugged. "Just slit their throat or something."
Her expression shifted—horrified. "That's not what it's about, Ren! Killing is wrong. Human life is precious. You can't just—just waste it like that!"
He frowned. "Life is worthless."
"No it's not!"
"People kill each other all the time. Every day. For money. For power. For fun." He looked at her, emotionless. "Why should it matter if I do it?"
She stared at him in disbelief. "Is my life worthless too?"
He froze.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Would you kill me too… if you had to?"
Ren didn't know what to say. He blinked slowly, processing the question like it didn't quite fit.
"…I don't think so," he finally muttered. "I wouldn't want to."
"…Oh."
He looked away. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to help."
Emi's chest tightened. She realized what she'd done—how she'd made him feel like something was wrong with him for not feeling. He didn't know how to process this world, and all she'd done was make it worse.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "That was a stupid question."
He blinked again. "It wasn't."
"No. It was."
A silence stretched between them.
Then, Emi wiped her tears and took his hand.
"Let's make a promise," she said. "We'll survive this. We'll do this stupid mission, and then… we'll run. We'll get out. Together."
Ren stared at her hand.
Then nodded.
"…Okay."
One Week Later
Rain slammed down on the city like a curse. Thunder rumbled in the sky above, wind howling between rooftops.
Ren and Emi crouched on the edge of a rooftop, looking down at a dimly lit warehouse.
Earpieces crackled in their ears.
"This is a simple test," Daizen's voice came through, calm as ever. "A man in a grey suit is inside that warehouse. You will eliminate him. Avoid all unnecessary casualties if you want—but the target must die. If you fail this mission then both of you will die."
Emi tightened her grip on the gun in her trembling hands.
"Oh, and one last thing."
A pause.
"I've attached a bomb to your earpieces."
Ren's eyes narrowed.
"If you go out of range, or try to remove them, they'll explode. Try anything funny… and boom."
Silence.
"Good luck, children."
The line went dead.
Emi stared at Ren. Her face was pale, the rain making it impossible to tell what was tears and what was water.
He stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the warehouse.
But somewhere inside her…
She could still hear Daizen's voice whispering
"Kill Ren, and you can go home."