8:17 AM – Tanaka Corporate Headquarters
The boardroom smelled of freshly brewed coffee and imminent bloodshed.
Hiroshi Tanaka sat at the head of the table, his dragon-headed cane resting against his chair as executives debated quarterly losses. None of them noticed the ventilation system hissing faintly—nor the sweet, floral scent mixing with the steam from their cups.
Then the doors exploded inward.
"Good morning, gentlemen."
Lady Saeko stood framed in the doorway, her white kimono pristine, her smile serene. In her hands, she held a fan of silver petals—each one razor-edged, each one monogrammed with the Tanaka crest.
The first executive died with his coffee still steaming in front of him.
A petal-shuriken buried itself in his throat before he could scream.
Chaos erupted.
8:23 AM – Elite Heights Academy, Math Class
Ren's pencil snapped between his fingers.
At the front of the room, the teacher droned on about quadratic equations. Around him, students scribbled notes. None of them heard it.
But Ren did.
A lullaby.
"Nemureru ryuu yo..." (Sleeping dragon...)
Faint. Distant. But unmistakable.
His mother's voice.
The classroom walls blurred. Suddenly he was seven years old again, strapped to that chair, his mother humming as electrodes burned his temples—
"Tanaka!"
Ren blinked. The teacher glared at him. "Problem 12. Now."
Mechanically, Ren stood. Walked to the board. Picked up the chalk.
His hand moved without conscious thought, solving equations far beyond the curriculum.
Behind him, whispers spread:
"Freak..."
"How does he—"
The chalk snapped.
Ren turned—and saw Hana in the doorway, her face pale.
"It's your mother," she mouthed.
The lullaby crescendoed in his skull.
"Hajimari no toki ga kita..." (The time of beginning has come...)
Ren's vision went red.
8:47 AM – Tanaka Tower, 42nd Floor
Hana barely kept up as Ren stormed through the carnage.
Bodies littered the hallway—Tanaka loyalists, each killed with surgical precision. Petal-shuriken protruded from eye sockets, throats, the spaces between ribs. All silver. All engraved.
"She's marking her territory," Ren said, his voice eerily calm. "Like a cat spraying on furniture."
Then they reached the boardroom.
Lady Saeko stood at the window, her kimono fluttering in the breeze from shattered glass. At her feet, the last surviving executive whimpered, a petal pressed to his jugular.
"Ren." She didn't turn. "You're late."
Ren's hands clenched. "You're dead. I watched you die."
Saeko laughed—a sound like wind chimes. "You watched Hiroshi's performance. How else could I work in the shadows?" She finally turned, and Hana understood instantly where Ren got his eyes—that same piercing gray, like storm clouds over steel.
"Meet my associate," Saeko said.
The elevator dinged.
Out stepped Director Kurosawa.
Hana's gun was in her hand before she could think.
"Ah-ah." Saeko wagged a finger. "He's not here to fight. He's here to confess."
Kurosawa's face was ashen. "The child experiments...the files Hiroshi leaked...they were real. We just...never had the subjects."
"Until now." Saeko's smile widened. "Blackwood funded my research. Hiroshi provided the test subjects. And you, my dear..." Her gaze landed on Hana. "Were supposed to deliver Ren to us."
The lullaby swelled again—this time from hidden speakers.
Ren staggered.
Hana moved—but too late.
Saeko's petal grazed her cheek as it flew past, embedding itself in the wall behind her.
"Tick-tock, little wolf," Saeko sang. "Forty-eight hours to bring me my son. Or..."
Another petal.
This one nicked Hana's throat.
"...I'll pluck your fangs one by one."
With that, she stepped backward—out the broken window—and was gone.
11:59 PM – Safehouse
Ren pressed the gauze to Hana's neck, his hands steady despite the tremor in his breath. The lullaby still looped in his head, an endless torture.
Hana studied the petal-shuriken he'd retrieved—its edges so sharp they split light.
"She's been playing all of us," she murmured.
Ren didn't answer. Just stared at the bloodstained silver, his reflection warped in its surface.
Somewhere in the city, his mother was singing.
And the dragon in his chest was waking up.