RealSamuel

Tokyo used to be alive—bright lights, crowded streets, and ordinary days.

But tonight, a 16-year-old girl named Aiko is running for her life. Chased by masked figures and abandoned by the world, her only savior is a man in a wrinkled black suit… who claims he’s just a drunk.

He’s not.

He moves like a ghost. Fights like a demon. And carries secrets that could burn cities to the ground.

They call him Ryoji—but that name should be long dead.

As shadows tighten around them and the line between hunter and hunted blurs, Aiko realizes she’s caught in a war far older and darker than she ever imagined.

Who is he really? Why is she involved? And what happens when a forgotten warrior is forced to fight again?

Mirrorflower: The Last Guardian is a fast-paced action-thriller with anime-style flair, urban mystery, and a dangerous antihero who never wanted to be a hero again.

Mirrorflower: The Last Guardian

Aiko gasped as the world reassembled itself—cold, damp concrete beneath her hands, the scent of rust and blood filling the air. They were still underground.

But the white-suited man was gone.

Ryoji cursed under his breath, gun still raised, as if expecting the man to reappear. A trick of the light? No. That was real speed—inhumanly fast. Too fast.

Miura gritted her teeth. "Damn it. He played us."

Aiko barely heard her. Her fingers curled around the flash drive Miura had given her before the attack. Her pulse hammered. The man's words still echoed in her mind.

"You were never just an ordinary girl."

Before she could process it, the alarms started.

A deep, mechanical voice echoed through the tunnels.

"LOCKDOWN INITIATED. NON-AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL WILL BE TERMINATED."

Then—the roar of oncoming drones.

Ryoji snapped back into action. "Move. Now."

Miura grabbed Aiko's arm and pulled her into motion. The tunnels shook as automated turrets activated, red targeting lasers sweeping through the darkness.

A hail of bullets tore through the air behind them. Sparks flew as rounds chewed into the walls. They were being hunted.

Ryoji led the charge, weaving through the narrow corridors. "There's an access hatch ahead! If we can reach it—"

From the shadows, black-clad soldiers emerged. Not Agency grunts. Something worse.

Elite, faceless killers—the Director's personal enforcers.

The leader, clad in reinforced tactical armor, tilted his head slightly. No insignias. No names. Only death.

Ryoji recognized the stance immediately. Spetsnaz. Triarii. K2 training. Killers trained to eliminate threats before they even see them coming.

Miura barely had time to shout before the first operative struck.

Ryoji barely blocked in time, his forearm colliding with the assassin's strike. No wasted motion. No hesitation. The operative reversed the grip, twisting the blade for a second thrust—Ryoji countered, smashing his elbow into the man's face, then snapping his wrist.

The knife clattered to the ground. But the assassin didn't react. No pain. Only precision.

Miura fired point-blank into one of them—but he didn't go down. The armor absorbed the hit.

The fighting was too fast—brutal and efficient. Ryoji moved like a phantom, evading strikes by inches, countering with ruthless precision. Miura fought like a street brawler, using anything and everything at her disposal.

But the operatives were relentless.

Aiko's breath came in ragged bursts. Her body trembled. The flash drive burned in her grip.

"You are not just one person, Aiko. You are all of them."

No, she was just Aiko. Just a girl caught in something she never asked for.

Another explosion rocked the tunnel. The access hatch—it was collapsing.

Chapter 16: The Extraction