Cold glass pressed against Luna's forehead as she stared out at the foggy streets of Kiwa. Morning light struggled to pierce the gray smog, casting a dull glow over her tiny, sparse apartment. Lifting her hand, she rubbed her temple, feeling the faint, electric hum of her dormant demonic energy. Every muscle in her body ached from yesterday's training, but she couldn't afford to rest. Survival demanded constant, relentless preparation. Two amber eyes stared back at her from the bathroom mirror. With practiced ease, she popped in a pair of dull brown contact lenses, hiding the predatory gold of her wolf-demon heritage. Brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, she pulled the high school uniform over her shoulders. Starch-stiff collar. Pleated skirt. This was the perfect armor of an ordinary teenager. Nobody looking at her would suspect the monster lurking beneath the fabric. Carefully, she slipped a pair of micro-daggers into the lining of her thigh-high socks, the cold steel comforting against her skin. Books went into her backpack next, heavy and tedious, serving as a shield against a world she wanted no part of. Licking her dry lips, she grabbed her keys and slipped out into the chilly morning air. Smog clung to the neon-lit signs of Kiwa, even in the early hours. Crowds of salarymen and students shuffled along the concrete sidewalks like mindless drones. Luna walked through them like a phantom, her footsteps perfectly silent despite the heavy-soled shoes she wore. Keeping her head down, she avoided every attempt at eye contact from passersby. Safety lay in absolute invisibility. Vulnerability was a weakness she couldn't afford, a lesson carved into her soul by years of bitter isolation. "Luna! Wait up!" A cheerful voice chirped from behind her, making her jaw tighten instantly. Turning slowly, she offered a polite, utterly fake smile to her classmate, Hana. "Morning, Hana," Luna replied, her voice smooth, devoid of any real warmth. "Did you finish the lab report for chemistry?" Hana asked, panting slightly as she caught up. "Yes, it's in my bag," Luna said, keeping her pace steady and brisk. "Oh, thank goodness! Can I please look at your formulas before class? I completely botched the equations." Nudging her glasses up her nose, Luna kept her expression neutral. "I suppose so, but only for a few minutes," she lied, already planning her escape. Hana beamed, entirely oblivious to the cold wall Luna kept between them. People were fragile, easily broken, and even more easily betrayed. Allowing anyone to get close was a luxury Luna had discarded a long time ago. Stepping into the physics-chemistry lab, she took her usual seat in the very back row, away from the windows. Smells of sulfur and copper sulfate hung thick in the air, reminding her of gunpowder. Bunsen burners hissed on the black-topped lab benches, their small blue flames flickering. Their teacher, Mr. Sato, clattered a piece of chalk against the blackboard, drawing complex molecular diagrams. Luna stared at the chalk dust floating in the air, her mind miles away from chemical bonds. Underneath the desk, her fingers twitched, tracing the imaginary grip of her favorite katana. Rain began to threaten early in the day, darkening the sky outside the high school. Watching the gray clouds gather, Luna tapped her mechanical pencil against her notebook in a slow, rhythmic pattern. She hated the rain because it reminded her of the night she lost everything. Yet, it was also the perfect weather for an assassination, masking footsteps and washing away evidence. Hana leaned over from her desk, whispering behind her hand. "Hey, Luna, are you going to the school festival planning meeting after school?" Shaking her head slightly, Luna kept her eyes on the board. "No, I have chores at home," she murmured, keeping her voice barely audible. "Aw, you're always so busy," Hana pouted, turning back to face the front. Relief washed over Luna as the girl stopped prying. Keeping everyone at arm's length was a survival mechanism she had perfected over the years. Normalcy was an exhausting game she had to play every single day. While Mr. Sato droned on about covalent bonds, Luna calculated the trajectory of a bullet through the glass window. She noted the blind spots of the classroom's security camera, mapping out three distinct escape routes. Her wolf instincts hummed, detecting the faint scent of rain and exhaust fumes filtering through the cracked window. "Ackerman? Are you paying attention?" Startled by the sharp voice, Luna blinked, looking up at the irritated teacher. "Yes, sir. Covalent bonding involves the sharing of electron pairs between atoms," she recited flawlessly. Nodding reluctantly, Mr. Sato turned back to the board. Sighing quietly, she rested her chin on her hand, waiting for the bell to set her free. Hours crawled by like molasses until the final bell finally rang, releasing her from her cage. Slipping out of the school gates, Luna ignored the invites to get boba or study at the library. She walked straight back to her apartment, locking the door behind her with three heavy deadbolts. Dropping her schoolbag, she let the fake smile slide off her face. Darkness was coming, and with it, her true calling. --- Night fell over Kiwa like a heavy, suffocating blanket. Neon signs flickered to life, painting the wet streets in shades of electric blue and violent pink. High above the city, perched on the gargoyle of a gothic skyscraper, Luna discarded her human skin. Black leather clad her slender frame, shifting with her movements like a second skin. Beneath her hood, her amber eyes glowed with predatory intensity, the contacts long gone. Tonight, she was Akuma. Her target was Kaelen 'The Viper' Thorne. Reports described him as an elusive phantom, a crime lord who dealt in dark magic and human lives. Lately, his operations had crossed into territories he shouldn't have touched, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. Now, a massive bounty rested on his head, and Luna intended to collect it before midnight. Closing her eyes, she pulled on the infinite void within her soul. Cold, limitless energy surged through her veins, sharpening her senses to an impossible degree. A sudden movement across the street caught her attention. Sliding down the brickwork of an adjacent building, a dark shadow bolted across the rooftops. Thorne. He was fast, moving with an unnatural, magically enhanced agility that defied gravity. Leaping from her ledge, Luna gave chase. Wind whipped against her face, carrying the metallic scent of rain and ozone. Thorne's footsteps clattered loudly on the metal fire escape as he scrambled upward. Shadows seemed to stretch and warp around him, fueled by his dark magic. Luna tracked his movements with her enhanced vision, seeing the faint trail of green energy he left behind. Closing the distance, she leapt from a concrete ledge, her body cutting through the cold night air. Step by step, she closed the distance. She vaulted over rusted air conditioning units and slid under heavy steel pipes. Ahead of her, Thorne glanced back, his eyes widening in sheer terror as he recognized the dark silhouette pursuing him. "Get away from me!" he screamed, throwing a ball of crackling green lightning over his shoulder. Swerving to the left, Luna avoided the blast easily. Smoldering concrete exploded behind her, sending sparks raining down into the alley below. Running faster, she pushed her wolf-demon reflexes to their absolute limit. Her boots barely touched the wet gravel of the rooftops as she bounded across the gaps between buildings. Thorne was desperate now, casting minor spells to slow her down, but they were nothing to her. "You can't run from the void," she whispered, her voice carried away by the rushing wind. Thrusting her hand forward, she summoned a wall of searing black fire. Flames erupted directly in Thorne's path, forcing him to screech to a halt at the edge of a high-rise rooftop. He reached the flat roof of a vacant warehouse, gasping for breath. Looking back, he realized his magic was failing to keep her at bay. "Why are you doing this?" he roared, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. "Someone wants you gone," Luna replied, landing silently on the gravel a few feet away. "And I always finish the job." Trapped, the crime lord spun around, drawing a pair of curved daggers that dripped with green venom. "Akuma," he spat, his chest heaving as he stared at her through the dark. "They said you were a myth." Slowly, she approached him, her movements silent, graceful, and deadly. "Myths don't bleed," she said, her voice dripping with ice. "But you will." Desperation drove him forward. He lunged, his daggers cutting through the air in a series of lethal arcs. Deflecting the first strike with her gauntlet, she stepped into his guard. Her elbow connected with his jaw, sending a satisfying crack echoing through the night air. Stumbling backward, Thorne gasped, but he wasn't finished. He muttered a dark incantation, his daggers glowing with a sickly green aura. Before he could strike, Luna tapped into her demonic speed. Vanishing from his sight, she reappeared directly behind him. Sensing her presence too late, he tried to turn, but she was already moving. Her blade, forged from hardened void energy, sliced cleanly through his defense. Blood sprayed across the concrete, a brilliant crimson under the neon lights. Thorne collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as his life began to slip away. Watching him, Luna felt the familiar, chilling thrill of the kill, a cold satisfaction that usually settled her restless soul. Yet, this time, something felt different. Kneeling beside him to confirm the kill, she grabbed his limp wrist. Suddenly, her breath hitched. On the back of Thorne's dying hand, a unique magical crest began to glow with a faint, pulsing purple light. It was a symbol she hadn't seen in a decade. A stylized eye surrounded by three interlocking crescent moons. Memories, violent and long-buried, rushed back into her mind. Fire. Screams. The smell of burning flesh. A cold dread settled deep in her stomach, chilling her far more than the icy night air. This crest belonged to the cult that had destroyed her past. Why did a low-level crime lord bear the mark of the Shadow King's inner circle? Her hands trembled slightly, a rare display of weakness that she quickly forced down. Staring at the mark, she realized the threat facing Kiwa was far greater than she had ever imagined. As the rain began to fall, washing away the crimson, a voice, deep and resonant, echoed from the shadows: 'Akuma. We've been expecting you.' elle se retourna,mais ne vis personnne ...

Chapter 1: Crimson Veil, Shattered Glass