Ringing… Ringing… Ringing…
Click!
"Hello, its Eira Sylvana here" came a calm, professional voice, tinged with the exhaustion of late-night work.
In a high-rise office bathed in the cold glow of monitors, Eira sat behind her desk, paper scattered, the clock ticking deep into the night. Even at the hour her posture was straight, her mind sharp as a blade honed by endless battles.
From Simon's end, there was short pause before he spoke.
"Madam Eira, it's Simon Reid"
The instant the name left his mouth, Eira's posture straightened.
She remembered him clearly—how could she not?
Simon Reid.
The young Astral lord who had accomplished solo hunts that veterans twice his age wouldn't dare attempt.
A youth with unshakable confidence— not the arrogant kind, but the kind that came from real, hand-forged strength.
His name, his presence, his fearless attitude— they made him unforgettable.
Yet tonight, something was different.
His voice wasn't just serious.
It was hardened. Like tempered steel.
Her instincts sharpened. She leaned forward slightly, sensing the wasn't a call made lightly.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice cutting through the distance.
Simon didn't waste a second. Straight to the point.
"What will happen if I kill a normal human?"
Silence hung for a beat.
Not from hesitation—not because the question itself was heavy,
Eira's mind raced.
Astral Lords had privileges. Authority above common law.
But ruthlessly killing normal humans without reason?
That could turn public opinion, spark political firestorms—and it the worst cases, unite all factions of humanity against even the strong Astral lord.
She replied carefully, her voice calm but firm.
"It depends," she said "On what crime they committed— and what crime you're committing."
"If the human you killed is guilty of serious crimes— things like trafficking, terrorism, betrayal— you'll be investigated, but you might walk free."
"But..."
Her voice dropped, now heavier,
"If it's ruled that you killed an innocent… or acted recklessly, you'll face judgment, prison for up to ten years—or worse, exile to the borderland for the same amount of time"
"Guarding the frontier where monster roam free. No walls. No second chances."
She let those word sink in.
"Simon," she added quietly, "this isn't a path you can turn back from. Are you sure you want to step into it?"
But for her the reply was silence—
Absolute silence.
Then—
Call disconnected…
The soft click echoed louder than it should have in the quiet of her office.
Eira stared at the phone in her hand for a few seconds longer, her mid running calculations at lightning speed.
Simon Reid wasn't just anyone.
He was a once-in-a-generation talent.
A rare prodigy that even the Beetle God Company— the most dominant Astral Corps—had personally marked for greatness.
And now…
He was standing on a thin line.
One wrong step could send him tumbling down a path there'd be no coming back from.
Killing a human, even with reason, even when justified, was a dangerous line even Astral Lord should not cross.
Because public perception just have as much as strength in his world where it was survival of fits.
And someone like Simon…
who will become the face of company someday will ruin the company's reputation.
Eira leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing at the ceiling.
"I need to act fast…"
She muttered under her breath.
Because if Simon truly crossed that line tonight…
Then she would have to clean up the blood and ashes he left behind—
Before the world could notice.
She raised her phone again with quick swipe, a different number was dialed.
Dialing… dialing…
Connected.
"Ethan, find me the current location of Sim—"
Before she could even finish her sentence—
The window behind her lit up.
An orange hue—bright and unnatural—flooded her office, bathing the entire room in a surreal glow.
It was like witnessing a second sunrise, except this light was angry, burning, arrogant and wronged. Eira's words caught in her throat.
Her hand tightened around the phone.
She stood up abruptly, turning toward the window with a sharp, instinctive movement.
In the middle of the city, reaching the skyline—
She saw it.
A pillar of fire.
A spiralling column of Astral energy, wild and fierce, tearing through the night sky like a divine spear thrown by the gods themselves.
Every alarm bell inside her head went off at once.
"Simon…" she thought, her throat dry.
On the other side of the call, Ethan's voice snapped back:
"Director?! What was that?! A terrorist attacks?!"
"No…" Eira said, almost to herself, her eyes locked on the fiery explosion in the distance.
Her voice, once calm and composed, trembled ever so slightly.
"That's not terrorism."
She swallowed hard.
"That's a warning."
Other side…
Simon stood still, his father cradled carefully in his arms, the night wind stirring the edges of his bloodstained shirt.
Before him, the entire building that had once housed thane's family and loyal subordinates was now an inferno.
But it was no simple, merciful death.
Simon's flames weren't meant for that.
The fire raged—but slow, deliberate, cruel.
It ate away at the structure from the inside, trapping those within.
The building itself had become a prison of flame, surrounded by walls of burning energy that incinerated anyone who even tried to escape.
Men screamed.
Women sobbed.
Even the high-pitched, heart-wrenching cries of children echoed through the night, clawing at the darkness like dying embers.
And still, no help came.
The bystanders, the guards, even the low-ranked Astral users who rushed in with good intentions—
Stopped dead in their tracks the moment they felt it.
Simon's Aura
Released to its absolute limit, it pressed down on the surrounding like a mountain cold, suffocating, heavy.
A 3-star Astral Lord.
In Riverstone City, such a being was rare—only fifteen know Astral lords at best. And even a 2-star Astral user wouldn't dare challenge the flame conjured and controlled by a 3-Star Astral Lord.
They would only be consumed themselves.
Thus, they stood there—helpless.
Watching.
Listening.
As life after life was slowly cooked alive inside the burning tomb Simon had crafted.
The rescue squads clenched their fists.
The city guards gritted their teeth.
But none dare to move.
They could only watch the horror unfold.
All because of one young man standing calmly in front of the burning building.
Simon Reid.
His eyes, hollow and cold, reflected the dancing flames.
There was no guilt.
No hesitation.
Only an iron will, hardened by the wilderness.
This was punishment.
A warning written in blood and fire.
Touch my family…
And be prepared to be erased.
Simon walked forward without looking back.
The building behind him burned like a funeral pyre.
Its screams were carried off by the cold wind, fading into meaningless echoes.
Moment later another figure appeared beside him.
In black suit, with long fiery white hair that looked like snow.
The air around her felt sharp and biting, as if winter itself followed wherever she went.
Eira Sylvana
Her cold silver eyes first swept over the burning building… then to Simon, and finally to the broken, unconscious Mathew in his arms
She said nothing.
Simon didn't greet her either.
He merely adjusted his grip around his father and kept walk forward.
For a moment, the two walked side by side—
Silent.
Grim.
After few more steps Simon come to stand still.
And without a word he pulled out the stack of documents and SD devise from his space belt and hand it over to her.
Seeing the document in her hand, she understood what Simon was conveying.
With light nod Eira disappeared from him.
Leaving Simon and his father alone on the street.
Then moments later he too disappeared.
Hospital—Outside the ICU Room.
The sterile white light hummed faintly as nurses bustled about, tending to patients.
But near the ICU, a strange tension had settled—think and heavy like a storm about to break.
Groups of nurses huddled behind desks and corners, whispering in hurried, excited tones.
"Who is that guy?"
"I don't know but… my god, have you seen his face? Like a fallen angel or something."
"Yeah, and do you feel his presence? It's suffocating. Like he's some beast just barely holding himself back…"
The young man they were gossiping about stood still in front of the ICU doors.
Simon
His back straight, hands tucked into the pockets of his black pants, head slightly bowed as he stared through the glass at the unconscious figure of his father, Mathew.
Even without trying, the pressure he emitted—his raw astral aura—distorted the air around him.
Patients passing by slowed, some clutching their chests, others quietly turning back, unwilling to go near.
Finally, unable to stand it anymore, a young female doctor—Dr.Elise Warren— steeled herself.
Squaring her shoulders, she tightened her grip on her clipboard and approached him. Each step feeling like she was walking toward a coiled predator.
"Excuse me, sir," she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart raced.
"You're… making it difficult for the patients and staff with your presence."
Simon without looking. Remained silent for a moment.
The weight of his existence pressed down on her—but Elise held her ground.
Finally, Simon stirred.
He turned his head slightly, and his burning eyes locked onto hers.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
His face was striking—sharp, clean lines, dark lashes, hair a little dishevelled—but his aura was even shaper.
It was like staring at a blade honed for war.
Still, despite all that, Simon's expression softened just a little when he noticed the fear barely hidden in her stance.
He glanced back through the glass once more at Mathew.
A long breath escaped him. A sigh heavy with exhaustion.
"You're right," Simon said, his voice low and steady.
"I'm… sorry."
Without another word, he stepped away from the ICU door.
Passing by her, his shoulder nearly brushing hers—she flinched instinctively—but Simon didn't even glance at her.
He simply walked down the corridor toward the exit, his hands in his pants pocket, the heavy pressure lifting like a dissipating storm cloud as he left.
Elise stood frozen for a moment, heart hammering in her chest.
She could still feel the aftershocks of his presence, but along with that pressure…
There was sadness.
Something she hadn't expected from someone who looked so dangerous.
"…He apologized?" one of the nurses whispered behind her, disbelief in her voice.
Elise didn't answer.
She just watched the young man disappear around the corner, heading out into the cold night air.
At the exit.
Simon pushed open the hospital doors, stepping into the cold night air.
At the exit, leaning casually against a pillar, stood Eira Sylvana—her piercing icy gaze locked onto him.
Simon's step slowed as their eyes met, he could already feel the weight of judgment hanging between them.
A faint sigh escaped his lips—he knew there would be no escaping the consequences now.
It was time for him to pay for what he had done