"Please, stop!" A woman who seemed to belong to the upper class was desperately begging for her life. Her once-elegant dress was torn, hanging in tatters, drenched in blood. Her pale skin was marred by deep gashes and shallow cuts, a grotesque pattern etched across her body. She stood cornered in a narrow alley, the dim streetlight flickering in the distance barely illuminating the scene. Shadows danced across the stone walls, adding to the oppressive weight of the dark, fog-choked night.

It was a cold, bitter night in the capital, the kind where even the air seemed to conspire against you, stealing warmth from your bones. The cobblestone streets were slick with recent rain, and the distant sounds of the city had faded into an eerie, unsettling silence. Her attacker stood over her, an unsettling smile creeping across his face, his eyes gleaming with a twisted delight.

"I'm afraid I can't," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "As a loyal follower of my goddess, I must ensure I carry out my duty without the slightest hesitation."

His form was monstrous, a mix of man and beast. He had a long, segmented scorpion tail that writhed behind him, moving with a life of its own. With a swift, almost lazy motion, he plunged the tail into her again and again, venom pumping into her veins. The woman's screams turned into pained gasps as her body began to convulse, her nervous system overwhelmed by the lethal toxin coursing through her.

"Heheh, poor thing," he chuckled as he watched her suffer, her once vibrant eyes glazing over with fear and confusion. "Well, I was sent here to spread some negativity, but after looking at the state of Atlas... it seems my presence isn't really necessary here after all."

He let her limp body slide to the ground, her convulsions slowly fading as the venom claimed her life. A cold breeze swept through the alley, the woman's blood mixing with the rainwater and trickling down the cobblestones, soon to be washed away, forgotten by the city that was already steeped in darkness.

(…)

Meanwhile, in the warmth of a grand estate, far removed from the terror stalking the streets, a much different atmosphere prevailed. Winter Schnee sat upright on a plush velvet sofa, her posture rigid as always. The room was spacious, with high ceilings adorned with elegant chandeliers, casting soft, golden light. Dark wooden furniture contrasted with the deep red walls, giving the space a sense of old, formal luxury. However, the mood in the room was anything but relaxed.

"The next target is the serial killer who has been terrorizing Atlas these past few weeks," Winter began, her voice calm but carrying an undertone of urgency. Sun leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed every word. The others in the room exchanged tense glances. The killer was no ordinary foe, and it showed in the grim set of their faces.

"He attacks at night," Winter continued, unfolding a report and glancing over the grisly details. "The victims' bodies suffered multiple cuts and puncture wounds, but according to the autopsies, the cause of death is venom. The cuts are superficial. He doesn't kill for the thrill of violence alone—he has a method, and it's effective. The number of victims has already reached double digits... and it's still climbing."

Weiss shuffled through more of the documents, her fingers trembling slightly as she read aloud, "Some of his victims were members of the military. Soldiers with Aura—so it's clear this assassin isn't weak."

Yang, sitting cross-armed, frowned deeply. She could feel a knot tightening in her stomach, a familiar sense of dread creeping in. "This is bad," she muttered. "Judging by the way these murders were carried out... it has to be Tyrian Callows."

Winter nodded in agreement, her eyes darkening. She could see the recognition dawning on Yang's face, and she knew they were thinking the same thing. "Tyrian is a former captain of the great Atlas military," she explained to the others. "Although I never worked with him directly, I heard plenty about him. He was a psychopath—a sadist who took joy in inflicting suffering on his enemies. His brutality earned him a terrible reputation in the army, but for a long time, the high command turned a blind eye because he was effective. His missions often ended in success, regardless of the methods he used."

Yang interjected, "He's strong. One of the few people who could fight Raven and walk away alive. He's a Scorpion Faunus—those puncture wounds on his victims? That's his tail. I've seen him in action, mostly when I was with Raven. His venom isn't anything rare, but it's deadly if you're not prepared. Winter, we'll need antidotes—just in case."

Winter gave a brief nod, her icy gaze never wavering. "I've already made arrangements for that."

There was a pause as everyone absorbed the weight of the situation. Weiss, still looking over the reports, spoke up, "But if he's back... why now? What's changed? He's been gone for years."

"Killing for the empire eventually wasn't enough for him," Winter responded, her tone growing darker. "No one knows his exact motives, but he began targeting soldiers and innocent civilians. He became unpredictable, uncontrollable. The military eventually gave the order to execute him, but he managed to escape Atlas. The fact that he's returned now... it's deeply unsettling."

Ruby, who had remained quiet until now, leaned forward and asked, "So what's the plan? How do we take him down?"

Winter took a deep breath and looked around the room, her voice firm and commanding. "We'll move tonight. This killer only attacks under the cover of darkness, so we'll take the fight to him on his terms—but we'll be ready. We'll split into pairs, covering different sectors of the city. Each team will patrol a designated area, keeping communication lines open. If anyone encounters Tyrian, you'll signal the others immediately. Do not engage alone."

Yang, smirking slightly, cracked her knuckles. "So, we're hunting him now, huh? Just another night in Atlas."

Weiss nodded, though her expression remained serious. "Let's hope we find him before he finds anyone else."

Winter concluded, "This won't be easy. Tyrian is dangerous, unpredictable, and highly skilled. Don't underestimate him."

(…)

The night in Atlas was colder by the river. The air felt sharp, biting against the skin as the icy wind swept over the water. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, casting everything in a shadowy haze. The streets nearby were mostly empty, save for the occasional group of soldiers patrolling farther up the road, their heavy boots muffled by the distance.

Ruby Rose and Sun Wukong crouched behind a low stone wall near the riverbank, their breath barely visible in the frigid air. The quiet between them wasn't comfortable—it was tense, heavy with the weight of the night's mission. They'd been patrolling this area for over an hour, and Ruby's unease had only grown. The silence felt too still, too deliberate.

"Any sign of him?" Sun whispered, his voice low but edged with anticipation.

Ruby shook her head, her silver eyes scanning the darkened streets. "No... nothing yet. But I don't like this. Something's... wrong." Her instincts screamed that danger was near, but there was no obvious threat. Not yet, anyway.

Sun, ever the optimist, tried to stay focused. "Maybe we're overthinking it. He could be somewhere else. Atlas is big. We're just covering one section."

Ruby sighed quietly, not convinced. "Yeah, maybe." She glanced around again, trying to shake off the prickling sensation on the back of her neck—the one that told her they weren't alone.

They both moved carefully, staying in the shadows, weaving through the narrow alleyways between buildings, keeping low and out of sight. The streetlights flickered occasionally, casting weak pools of light on the cobblestones, but mostly the streets were dark. A few more soldiers were patrolling in the distance, their presence only adding to the weight of the night.

As they reached a narrow path by the river, Ruby motioned for Sun to stop. "Let's check the next alley. Maybe we'll get a better vantage point."

Before Sun could respond, a sudden, harsh cackle cut through the air.

"Heheheh... Such perfect little lambs, wandering right into my claws."

Both Ruby and Sun froze. That voice—it was unmistakable. The kind of voice that oozed insanity, glee, and malice all at once.

"Tyrian," Sun muttered, his muscles tensing as he gripped his staff.

They barely had time to react before a figure leaped down from the rooftops with inhuman speed, landing just a few feet away from them. Tyrian Callows grinned wildly, his yellow eyes gleaming with savage delight. His scorpion tail arched behind him, twitching with anticipation.

"Well, well, what do we have here? He chuckled darkly.

Ruby's heart pounded in her chest. They needed to call for backup—now.

"Sun we need to—!" she started, reaching for her Scroll to send an alert to the others, but Tyrian's eyes flashed, and in an instant, he was on them.

Before either of them could react, Tyrian's tail lashed out, striking Ruby's Scroll and shattering it in her hands. Sun barely had time to pull his own out before Tyrian's hand snatched it away, crushing it effortlessly.

"No, no, no, little mice!" Tyrian cooed mockingly. "There'll be no calling for help tonight. It's just you, me, and the stars!" He twirled the remains of Sun's Scroll in his hand, tossing the broken pieces into the river with a flick of his wrist.

Ruby cursed under her breath, her heart racing. Without their Scrolls, they were cut off from the rest of the team. She gripped her scythe, Crescent Rose, tighter. They were going to have to fight their way out of this.

Tyrian circled them, his movements erratic but deliberate, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. "I only spotted you two wandering around, you know? But what luck! It's been so long since I had a bit of real fun."

Sun stepped in front of Ruby, his staff in hand, his eyes locked on Tyrian. "We're not scared of you, Tyrian."

"Such brave words," Tyrian sneered, his grin widening as he took a menacing step forward. "But it won't save you."

Without warning, Tyrian lunged, his scorpion tail whipping toward them with lightning speed. Sun blocked the strike with his staff, the force of the blow reverberating through his arms. Tyrian was fast—faster than either of them had anticipated. His weapon slashed at the air, aiming for Ruby, but she dodged back just in time, swinging Crescent Rose to keep him at bay.

Tyrian danced backward, laughing wildly. "Oh, come now! Is this all you've got?"

Ruby's mind raced. They couldn't win this fight alone, not against someone like Tyrian. They needed the others, and with their Scrolls destroyed, there was only one option.

"We can't take him on our own!" Ruby called out to Sun, dodging another swipe of Tyrian's tail.

Sun glanced at her, his jaw clenched. "Go! I'll hold him off!"

"What?!" Ruby hesitated, her eyes wide. "You can't fight him alone—!"

"I don't have a choice!" Sun snapped, blocking another vicious strike from Tyrian's Weapon. "Go, Ruby! I'll be fine. I just need to keep him busy long enough for you to get help."

Ruby's heart twisted, but she knew he was right. Without their Scrolls, she had to get back to the others—there was no other way. She steeled herself, nodding firmly. "I'll come back as fast as I can. Don't do anything stupid."

Sun grinned at her despite the tension. "Too late for that."

With one last look, Ruby turned and dashed into the shadows, her cape fluttering behind her as she disappeared into the night.

Tyrian's eyes followed her for a moment, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Ahh, she runs away. How adorable."

But then his attention shifted entirely to Sun, his smile widening into something far more sinister. "Well, then. Looks like it's just you and me now, little monkey."

Sun twirled his staff, planting his feet firmly on the ground. "I've fought worse than you, Tyrian."

Tyrian cackled with excitement. "Oh, I doubt that very much." His scorpion tail arched behind him, ready to strike again. "Let's see how long you can dance before I break you."

And with a crazed howl, Tyrian lunged at Sun once more, his tail whipping forward like a viper's strike. Sun braced himself, gripping his staff tightly, knowing he had to hold out until Ruby could return with reinforcements.

Sun's heart pounded in his chest as Tyrian's crazed eyes locked onto him, the Scorpion Faunus' grin widening with malicious glee. The atmosphere crackled with tension, every breath filled with the weight of the challenge ahead.

"Well now," Tyrian cooed, his voice dripping with mock delight. "Shall we make this interesting, little monkey? I'll give you a chance." His tail twitched, its venomous tip gleaming in the dim light. "You land a hit on my chest, and I'll consider that a win for you."

Sun's brows furrowed as he readied his staff, his muscles coiled with anticipation. "That's it?" he muttered, unsure whether to be relieved or wary of the Scorpion Faunus' twisted sense of fairness.

"Oh, don't worry," Tyrian replied, taking a slow step forward. His movements were fluid, unnervingly graceful for someone so dangerous. "I won't use anything else except my lovely, lovely tail." The deadly appendage lashed the air as if to punctuate his point.

Sun took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Tyrian's chest. A single strike—that was all he needed. But getting close enough to deliver it, with that monstrous tail snapping at him like a viper, was another story entirely.

"Come now," Tyrian taunted, his tone both mocking and gleeful. "Let's dance."

With a wild lunge, Tyrian sprang into motion. His tail whipped forward, faster than Sun anticipated. He barely managed to leap to the side, the venomous tip slicing through the air where his head had just been. Sun's feet hit the ground in a roll, immediately snapping back up to his fighting stance.

Tyrian cackled, his movements erratic and unpredictable. He danced on the balls of his feet, his tail flicking around him like a serpent ready to strike. "Oh, is that all you've got, little monkey?"

Sun gritted his teeth and pressed forward, swinging his staff in a wide arc, aiming for Tyrian's chest. But before he could land the blow, the scorpion tail lashed out again, knocking his staff aside with brutal efficiency. The force of the strike sent Sun stumbling back, his grip tightening on his weapon as he regained his balance.

Tyrian's laughter echoed through the alleyway. "You'll have to do better than that! Don't you want to win?"

Sun growled under his breath, charging again, this time aiming low. He ducked under the tail's swipe and tried to sweep Tyrian's legs, but the Faunus leaped over the attack effortlessly, landing with a predatory grace.

"Too slow!" Tyrian jeered, his tail whipping around once more. Sun barely had time to block, the force of the impact reverberating up his arms.

Each strike from Tyrian's tail was faster than the last, a relentless barrage of venomous swipes that kept Sun on the defensive. But he couldn't stay on defense forever. He needed an opening, just one, to land the hit.

Tyrian's grin widened, sensing Sun's growing frustration. "Is this really the best you can do? Come on, show me something fun!"

Sun's mind raced. Tyrian was playing with him, toying with his speed and reactions. If he wanted to win, he needed to change the game. His gaze flicked up to the rooftops—an idea sparking.

"Alright, Tyrian," Sun said, his voice steady as he backed up slightly, "let's make this fun."

With a burst of aura, Sun propelled himself upward, using his semblance to summon two spectral clones. They split off from him, each dashing toward Tyrian from opposite directions. The clones were fast, moving with purpose, their staffs aimed squarely at Tyrian's chest.

Tyrian's laughter rang out as his tail lashed out, destroying one clone in an instant, then the other with a flick of its venomous tip. "Is that all you've got?"

But Sun wasn't finished. While Tyrian was distracted by the clones, the real Sun dropped down from above, his staff aimed directly at Tyrian's chest. For a split second, Tyrian's wild eyes widened in surprise, but his tail snapped up just in time, blocking Sun's strike mid-air.

The force sent Sun flying back, landing hard on the cobblestones. Tyrian cackled as he circled Sun once more, his tail twitching with delight. "Oh, you almost had me there! Almost."

Sun groaned, pushing himself up on shaky legs. He could feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in, but he couldn't stop. Not yet. Not until he won.

He needed to be faster—more unpredictable.

Taking a deep breath, Sun sprinted toward Tyrian again, but this time, he didn't aim for his chest. He feinted to the right, then darted left, his staff sweeping low again. As Tyrian's tail came down to block, Sun pivoted sharply, spinning his staff upward in a lightning-fast arc.

There was a sickening crack as his staff finally connected with Tyrian's chest.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Tyrian's crazed smile faltered, his yellow eyes widening as he glanced down at the staff pressed against his chest.

And then, Tyrian's grin returned—wider than before.

"Well done, little monkey," he purred, his voice laced with twisted satisfaction.

Before Sun could react, Tyrian's own hand reached for his neck, his sharp weapon digging into his skin. With a quick, deliberate motion, he slashed his own throat, blood gushing from the wound. It poured down his chest in thick rivulets, staining the cobblestones beneath his feet.

Sun stared in shock, his breath catching in his throat "What the hell?"

Tyrian chuckled, the sound gargled by the blood flooding his mouth. "You've won the game,... Heheh... after all i am a man of my word"

With a final, manic laugh, Tyrian staggered toward the riverbank. His movements were erratic, blood pouring from his neck with every step. And then, without hesitation, he threw himself into the icy waters, his crazed laughter echoing through the night as he disappeared beneath the surface.

Sun stood frozen, his chest heaving with exertion, watching the river swallow Tyrian whole.

(…)

"Your Majesty, I regret to inform you that Captain Ironwood has betrayed us and joined the rebellion," a soldier of the Atlas army knelt before his ruler. The throne room was expansive, the polished marble floors echoing with every movement. Before the soldier stood a grand staircase leading up to the imposing seat of young King Whitley Schnee. At his side, two figures stood like silent sentinels, their expressions unreadable. Behind the kneeling soldier lay a massive round table with six chairs—the council of Atlas.

Some of the council members appeared uneasy, exchanging glances laced with worry. However, Marian Marygold, composed and serene, was the first to speak. "This is an inconvenience that could turn into a much larger issue if we aren't careful. Ironwood was one of the finest strategists we had." She leaned slightly forward, her tone measured and calm, as if calculating the consequences already.

Before anyone else could offer their thoughts, the king's voice rang out, cutting through the tension. "Ironwood is irrelevant. What matters is that we remain calm. We still have capable people on our side," Whitley declared, his eyes flashing with quiet confidence. The young king straightened his crown, his royal blue attire shimmering under the golden light of the grand chandeliers above. His suit was tailored to perfection, lined with silver embroidery, a symbol of his status and the heavy burden of leadership he bore at such a tender age.

He smiled faintly and whispered to the advisors standing beside him. "Am I doing well? It's important to keep morale high, isn't it?"

The two councilors at his side were Camilla and Sleet, both members of the High Council. Camilla, a striking figure of beauty, with deep dark skin and hair pulled back in an elegant style, wore a flowing gown of crimson and gold, her posture elegant yet firm. Sleet, older and sterner, dressed in a dark military uniform adorned with the insignia of Atlas, nodded approvingly. "Displaying wisdom at such a young age—your parents would be proud, Your Majesty," Camilla spoke with deep respect.

"No doubt," Sleet added, though his face remained somber. "However, we have a more pressing matter at hand."

Whitley shifted in his throne, his gaze sharpening. "Silver Hunt," Sleet continued, "we've lost two council members in the last few months. Marian was nearly assassinated recently, and other key figures, military leaders, and their families have been targeted as well. Our friend Carl Winchester has been tirelessly assembling a team to deal with these vermin."

The mention of Winchester made Whitley's lips curl into a slight smile. "How fares our friend in this endeavor?"

Camilla chimed in with a soft laugh, her voice playful yet serious. "Hehe, Winchester has decided to call General Raven. She's been busy defending our border with Vacuo."

Whitley's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the news. "Is that a wise decision? Raven is... unpredictable, which is why she was assigned to handle external threats. General Braum Soleil oversees the capital's forces. Could this not lead to conflict?"

Sleet, ever the pragmatist, answered with a firm tone. "There will be no conflict, Your Majesty. Raven has been called to lead the team that Winchester is assembling. There will be no struggle for command. Silver Hunt has become a threat we can no longer ignore. Raven will deal with them once and for all."

The air in the throne room felt heavy with the weight of their words, but Whitley reclined slightly in his chair, letting the unease settle around him like a cloak. He knew the danger was real—yet the challenge it posed excited him in a strange way. With Raven Branwen now involved, things were about to take an interesting turn.

The young king glanced at Marian, who sat calmly among the council. Her blue hair framed her sharp features, her black dress accentuating her sophisticated, intellectual presence. She had survived one assassination attempt, but Whitley couldn't help but wonder how long she'd remain unscathed.

"Very well," Whitley said, his voice firm. "We shall proceed as planned."

(…)

The Silver Hunt base was bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights, their sterile brightness a stark contrast to the dark events that had unfolded earlier. Sun Wukong sat in one of the chairs scattered around the central briefing room, rubbing the back of his neck as he recalled the details of his encounter with Tyrian Callows. Across from him sat Weiss, poised and sharp-eyed, her hands clasped elegantly in her lap. Yang stood beside her, her arms crossed with a curious smirk playing on her lips, while Blake leaned against the wall, her amber eyes fixed on Sun. Ruby was perched on the edge of a table, her usual enthusiasm tempered by an air of concern. Winter , standing tall and composed, presided over the conversation, her icy gaze locked on Sun, waiting for him to speak.

"So," Winter prompted, her voice crisp but not unkind. "Tell us what happened with Tyrian."

Sun let out a slow breath before nodding. "Well, it wasn't exactly a fun time." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he recounted the events. "Tyrian... he's completely nuts, but I'm sure you all knew that already. He challenged me to this twisted game—said I had to land a hit on his chest. The catch? He could only use his tail to attack."

Ruby's eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? That sounds like... an unfair game. Did you manage to hit him?"

Sun chuckled, though it lacked any real humor. "Eventually, yeah. Took a lot of dodging and some serious focus. He's quick, even when he's limiting himself. But when I finally got him, he... well, he did something weird."

"Weird?" Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Define 'weird' when it comes to Tyrian."

Sun hesitated for a moment, remembering the unsettling grin Tyrian had given him before slicing his own neck. "He... cut his own throat. Like, completely unprompted. Blood everywhere." He made a slicing motion across his neck. "Then he congratulated me and threw himself into the river, laughing like a maniac."

Yang let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "That guy is beyond messed up. So... is he dead?"

Sun scratched his head. "That's the thing. I don't know. Couldn't recover the body, so there's no way to confirm it. I mean, he cut pretty deep—no way anyone could survive that, right?"

Blake's voice, calm and measured, cut through the room. "Tyrian isn't someone we can afford to underestimate. If anyone could survive something like that, it would be him."

Winter nodded, her expression thoughtful as she processed the information. "It's true. Tyrian has always been... unorthodox. But he's also a man of his word. He probably won't resurface for a while. Still, we can't afford to be complacent."

Winter glanced at Sun, her frosty demeanor softening just a fraction. "You handled yourself well, Wukong. Regardless of Tyrian's survival, you managed to hold your own against a dangerous enemy, which is no small feat."

Yang grinned and nudged Sun with her elbow. "Yeah, not bad, monkey boy. I'm impressed."

Ruby smiled warmly, her silver eyes gleaming with appreciation. "Thanks, Sun. I'm just glad you're okay."

Sun shrugged, his trademark grin returning. "It's all in a day's work. But seriously, I'm glad I came out of that mess in one piece."

Winter stepped forward, her gloved hands clasped behind her back as she addressed him with a more official tone. "Given your performance and the threat you neutralized, I believe a bonus is in order. You earned it."

Sun blinked in surprise, then grinned wider. "Really? I mean, I won't say no to extra pay."

Weiss smiled slightly, though her expression remained dignified. "You've proven yourself to be a valuable asset."

Winter's expression shifted, a rare trace of a smile flickering at the edges of her lips. "Rest assured, if Tyrian does appear again, we'll be ready for him."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of what they had discussed lingering in the air. Sun glanced around at the group, feeling a sense of camaraderie among them despite the constant danger they all faced. It wasn't the most conventional team, but they had each other's backs. And in this world, that was all anyone could really ask for.

Winter, ever the commander, turned to the rest of the team. "Let's use this time wisely to prepare for whatever comes next. Stay sharp, stay ready. Dismissed."

As the group dispersed, Ruby shot Sun one last thankful smile, and Yang gave him a playful shove. Weiss nodded in approval, while Blake simply offered him a respectful glance before exiting the room.

Sun watched them leave, feeling a little lighter despite the heavy conversation. He stood up and stretched, the tension finally easing out of his muscles. He had survived Tyrian Callows and earned a bit of respect along the way. Not a bad outcome for the new guy, all things considered.

He chuckled to himself and made his way toward the exit. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

(…)

Tyrian Callows sat atop a lonely hill just beyond the capital, gazing out at the city. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting its pale glow over the sprawling buildings. The view was almost serene, an odd juxtaposition to the chaos that stirred in the heart of the kingdom. Tyrian touched the scar on his neck, a grim reminder of his recent encounter, and let out a low, unsettling chuckle.

"I should be grateful," he mused, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Grateful for the power bestowed upon me by the goddess. Without it, I wouldn't still be part of this world."

Behind him, a towering figure stood silently. Cloaked in black, the figure's features were obscured by a hood marked with strange, ancient symbols. Its presence was imposing, almost otherworldly, and when it spoke, the voice was not that of a man, but something far more beastly—deep, gravelly, and unnatural.

"How do you wish to proceed?" The voice carried a weight that hung heavily in the air, sending a chill through the night.

Tyrian tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving the capital. He smiled, a twisted, eerie grin spreading across his face. "Atlas is already drowning in negativity. My actions here won't leave much of a mark in the grand scheme of things. The boy-king and the serpents that pull his strings... they ensure that this kingdom rots from within. Unless someone topples the current power in Atlas, there's little need for us to intervene further."

The figure behind him growled softly, its voice still rumbling with that unnatural edge. "Then should we return, Tyrian?"

Tyrian's grin widened, and he chuckled darkly. "Yes, we shall. But... there is something interesting I discovered today." His hand grazed the scar on his neck again, almost absently, as if recalling the thrill of his encounter. "A young girl with silver eyes."

At that, the figure stirred, its growl growing louder, more animalistic. "According to our information, the only silver-eyed warrior in Atlas was Summer Rose, but..."

Tyrian's expression shifted subtly at the mention of the name. There was a moment of reflection in his wild eyes, a brief glimmer of something that bordered on nostalgia. "Ah, yes... my dear General Summer Rose," he whispered, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "How I would have loved to be the one to end her life. But... things happen for a reason, don't they?" He sighed deeply, as though lamenting a missed opportunity, before the madness returned to his gaze. "But I'm quite certain this girl I met today is her daughter. She bears an uncanny resemblance to Summer. She's not ready yet, though... not quite."

The figure behind him let out another low growl, this time more menacing, like a predator stalking its prey. "She is not yet awakened. Perhaps in a few years... then we may return for her."

"Indeed, my loyal hound," Tyrian hissed, his voice filled with anticipation. "For now, we leave. The stage here is not yet set for us." He rose from his seated position, his eyes lingering on the capital one last time. There was something almost reverent in the way he gazed upon it, as though savoring the future destruction that he was certain would come.

With one final, sinister smile, Tyrian turned away from the city and walked into the shadows, his companion following closely behind. The night swallowed them whole as they disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the faint memory of their presence in the air.

hey I just wanted to say that I don't have an exact schedule, I will post whenever I can, greetings.