The Clock Tower

"He knocked out the captain with a single punch! What kind of monster is that girl?" The panicked recruit fled blindly through the snow-covered streets.

Their elite squad of eight had been decimated—aside from him and the captain, the others had been taken down without making a sound.

The pistol that had once given him courage now felt like a child's toy in his trembling hands. He couldn't fathom just how absurdly strong that white-haired girl was.

I need to warn the others. His tactical training hadn't completely abandoned him. After all, with enough firepower, even someone with superhuman abilities would fall.

However, just as he turned to make his escape, a gray-haired boy materialized before him like a ghost.

The recruit's eyes widened in recognition—that face was burned into his memory from the wanted posters plastered across Berlin.

"Where is she?" Ren's voice carried the same bone-chilling emptiness as a Herrscher, devoid of any human warmth.

"I... I don't know who you're talking about," the recruit stammered, backing away.

"The white-haired girl. The one you were about to warn."

The recruit flinched. How? He hadn't seen anyone following during his escape. Could this boy truly possess the supernatural abilities the captain had warned them about?

"She went to the council of family heads! I can tell you where, just... just don't kill me!" Having survived one brush with death already, the recruit's survival instincts kicked in. Looking at the boy who seemed even younger than himself, he entertained thoughts of capturing Ren and claiming the bounty.

"Fine," Ren agreed, his expression unchanging.

"The family heads are meeting at the Clock Tower. That girl must be heading there now."

With that, the recruit turned and ran, already dreaming of the reward he'd receive for selling out Ren's location. If he could just get word to headquarters...

Why did it suddenly get so cold?

Hot blood painted the pristine snow crimson. The recruit, his body rapidly cooling, was still dreaming of his reward even as his consciousness faded.

Trusting someone who had just betrayed their own allies—Ren wasn't that naive.

Pulling his hat lower against the intensifying storm, he set off toward the Clock Tower. Without Kiana by his side, he had reverted to his cold, Herrscher persona.

As the illusion world neared its end, reality's rejection of him grew stronger. Enemies multiplied, the weather worsened, and the gentle snowfall transformed into a raging blizzard that threatened to tear Berlin apart.

The Clock Tower loomed over the city like a sentinel, its massive face visible from nearly every district. As Ren approached, the clock's deep toll announced the ninth hour.

The closer he got, the more enemies he encountered. Almost all of the city's security forces were concentrated here.

Yet no one noticed the wolf in sheep's clothing stalking through their ranks, concealed by the blizzard's fury.

Twin black daggers bloomed like flowers of death in the darkness. Ren moved with mechanical precision, each strike a killing blow, each step silent as falling snow.

Using a gun might have been more efficient, but in his weakened human state, stealth and assassination were better suited for infiltration.

However, the more enemies he dispatched, the deeper Ren's frown became. It wasn't because there were too many guards—it was because there were too few.

It was as if someone had deliberately drawn away a significant portion of the security forces.

"Kiana... what are you planning?"

Wiping his daggers clean on a fallen guard's uniform, Ren gazed up at the towering Clock Tower, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time.

As the clock chimed again, he finally reached the inner perimeter. The remaining guards were already engaged in combat, their faces tense with fear.

Under such high alert, stealth became more difficult. Ren melted into the shadows, his attention drawn to the wall before him.

A perfectly circular hole had been blasted through the solid stone. When Ren touched the edge, a familiar tingling sensation—like a mild electric shock—ran through his fingertip.

"Honkai energy. She was here before me."

Ren exhaled slowly, unconsciously touching the snow globe in his pocket.

He couldn't explain why he'd kept it. After realizing Kiana was likely a trap created by the illusion, he should have distanced himself, found a way to eliminate her. Yet he'd retrieved the snow globe anyway.

Steeling his resolve, Ren sheathed his daggers.

This was as far as stealth would take him. Further progress would require a more... direct approach.

But if Kiana was truly here, he had to find her, to hear the truth from her own lips.

Even if she was just another phantom.

He drew two pistols from his waistband, checking the ammunition and dry-firing them to familiarize himself with their mechanics.

Time for a frontal assault.

Bang!

Gunshots shattered the night's silence. Blood painted the snow, and the already nervous guards erupted into panic. But before they could locate Ren, a barrage of perfectly aimed bullets found their marks, dropping enemies one after another.

Only after Ren had emptied two magazines did they finally pinpoint his position behind a low wall.

But it was too late. Ren's marksmanship was exceptional. Even in a human body, the Kaslana Gun Kata he'd learned from Durandal let him fight like a true Valkyrie.

The firefight raged for an hour, hot brass carpeting the ground as enemy screams echoed endlessly.

By the time the clock struck eleven, Ren stood alone among the fallen.

"Haah..."

He lowered his guns, his hands trembling from exertion.

He'd lost count of how many weapons he'd used, constantly scavenging new ones from fallen enemies as his own ran dry. Hitting targets wasn't the hard part—dodging enemy fire in his human form had pushed him to his limits.

But he'd succeeded. Now only the Clock Tower's main entrance stood between him and his goal.

Holstering his pistols, Ren slammed his shoulder against the door, splintering it open.

More enemies lay inside, their bodies bearing the telltale crystalline cracks of Honkai corruption.

He walked through the halls in silence until he reached the council chamber where the family heads had been meeting.

Only a group of unconscious elderly men remained.

These were the heads of the families who had been hunting him. Ren didn't hesitate, methodically ending each of their lives.

The pursuit, orchestrated by this illusion world, was finally over.

Yet Ren felt no triumph. His eyes were drawn to the open window where the blizzard raged outside, its howling winds buffeting the ancient tower.

He pushed through the small door leading to the clock tower's roof and began his ascent up the metal ladder.

Wind and snow battered him, trying to tear him from his perch, to deny him his goal. But Ren climbed on relentlessly, one hand over the other.

Finally, he reached the narrow platform beneath the massive clock face, his journey nearly complete.

The rooftop was blanketed in snow and ice, the clock's ancient gears groaning against their frozen bonds.

A lone figure sat perched on the railing, her back to Ren as she gazed out over the sleeping city of Berlin.

The blizzard whipped the girl's white hair around her like a winter spirit, a deadly beautiful flower blooming in the heart of the storm.