Crux Twins

Dreyl sat down slowly, the stone steps cold beneath him. His breath hitched. The voice still echoed in his skull like a rattlesnake under his skin.

"You can't escape your fate… My son."

He ran a shaky hand through his hair.

Not now.

Not here.

Viper tossed the empty juice box into a nearby bin with lazy precision and glanced over. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Dreyl didn't answer.

"Don't tell me you're scared of Monday mornings," Viper added, sliding down next to him. "I thought devil royalty had thicker skin."

Dreyl swallowed hard. "I heard him."

"Him?"

"My father."

That word made Viper's playful expression falter.

"…That bad, huh?"

Dreyl nodded slowly.

"I wasn't even asleep. Wasn't dreaming. It was like he was inside my head—talking through my thoughts."

He clenched his fists.

"It felt... real. Too real."

Viper leaned back, his serpent-green eyes narrowing as he scanned the other students. "And you think he's close?"

"No," Dreyl said, eyes sharp. "But he's watching. Just like you said last night."

Viper clicked his tongue. "Guess I was right."

They sat there for a few moments, the school morning unfolding around them like nothing had happened—students chatting, the school bell chiming faintly in the distance.

But to Dreyl, the air had changed. It felt thicker. Like something was coiling around the world, unseen.

Then, a scream tore through the school courtyard.

A real one.

Dreyl shot to his feet.

A girl was on her knees near the fountain, clutching her head, eyes wide with horror. Her voice cracked and wailed, as if something inside her was trying to get out.

"The son… The son must die…"

"The flame must be drowned…"

Teachers ran toward her. Students scattered.

Dreyl's heart sank into his gut.

Viper's whip had already slithered into his hand.

"That's not just a breakdown," Viper muttered. "That's possession."

"She said flame…" Dreyl whispered. "That's me."

He bolted toward the girl.

But before he could reach her, she collapsed.

Eyes rolled back. Mouth hanging open. Silent.

Whatever had spoken through her—was gone.

"Shit," Dreyl breathed, kneeling beside her.

Viper crouched next to him. "That wasn't her voice. I've heard that kind of chanting before. Naraka. Demon cults. Mind-fracturing magic. You don't just wake up from that."

Dreyl's hands were shaking.

"She looked right at me."

"They always look at you now," Viper said darkly. "You're a flare in a dead sky. Everyone who matters can see it. The Coils of Kaen aren't waiting anymore—they're probing. Sending feelers."

"You think this is connected to the Fatebreaker?"

Viper nodded. "That thing you carry isn't just rolling dice. It's signaling. Opening doors."

The teachers surrounded them, ushering the unconscious girl into an ambulance. The courtyard cleared.

And Dreyl knew—it wasn't over.

It had only just begun.

Dreyl and Viper walked side by side down the street. Evening now.

"So... You always had issues?"

"What do you mean?"

Viper puts both his hands behind his head. In a relaxed walking position.

"With your father,"

"Is he really as bad as you say?"

Dreyl put both his hands in his pockets. And tilted his head to the right. Looking at Viper.

"He not just bad,"

"He's evil,"

"And stops at nothing to achieve his goals."

Viper scowled.

"The usual demonic mess then huh?"

"Close enough."

Just then Dreyl sensed something. A faint presence. He stopped walking.

Viper turned to look over his shoulder.

"Hey... You good?"

But Dreyl didn't answer. He just stood there. Scanning the area.

"... Where?"

Viper walked over to Dreyl. A hint of worry on his face.

"Oi oi! Devil-boy!"

Dreyl wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to pinpoint where the presence was active from.

The he felt it.

Sensed it.

In his bones.

It was coming from above them.

"Move."

Dreyl pushed Viper to the side. The rooftops groaned under invisible weight.

Dreyl landed on a nearby brick wall, crouched like a shadow with burning eyes. Across the alley, perched atop a metal shed like statues carved from nightmares, stood two children—barely twelve, maybe thirteen. But their auras said otherwise.

One boy. One girl. Matching white hair like stitched snow. Hollow eyes, black sclera with faint golden irises. Skin as pale as bone and carved with celestial runes glowing faintly violet.

The girl cocked her head to the side, observing Dreyl like a beetle under glass.

The boy just grinned.

"Are they…" Viper stepped beside Dreyl, expression tightening. "Kids?"

"They're not kids," Dreyl muttered. "They're weapons."

The boy hopped down first, landing weightlessly on the pavement like gravity didn't apply. His sister followed a second later, her feet never quite touching the ground. She floated more than walked.

"They're the Crux Twins," Dreyl said. "Trained in Naraka under divine silence rites. Demonic assassins raised to kill without sound, without mercy. Silent bullets. Silent death."

The girl moved her fingers gently—and a pair of thin silver guns materialized in her hands like smoke turning solid.

"Wonderful," Viper sighed. "I hate prodigies."

The boy raised a single hand. His gun formed, long-barreled and curved like an executioner's dagger. No aura. No energy spike. No warning. Just death wrapped in silence.

Without a word, they opened fire.

POP-POP.

Barely a sound. Not even an echo. Just the shimmer of light as divine bullets flew through the air at speeds Dreyl couldn't track.

He threw himself sideways, landing in a roll behind a bench that exploded into splinters a second later.

Viper's whip lashed from his hip and deflected one of the bullets in mid-air with a sharp CRACK, sending it careening into a trash bin, which vaporized instantly.

"They're packing god-tier enchantments!" Viper hissed. "You get hit, you don't bleed. You evaporate."

"Then don't get hit!" Dreyl snapped, dashing toward the twins in a zigzag pattern.

The girl blinked once, then vanished.

Dreyl skidded to a stop, heart pounding.

"Where'd she—?"

WHUMP.

A heel slammed into the back of his neck. The girl had appeared directly behind him mid-air.

He barely rolled in time, her second kick crunching into the ground and leaving a crater where his spine had been.

Viper lunged in to cover, his whip roaring to life like a living thing.

It lashed forward, aiming for the girl's legs.

She leapt, spinning mid-air, and fired two silent rounds that clipped the whip's path—cutting it clean in half.

"What the hell!?" Viper shouted, staring at the limp end of his weapon. "That's bone and demon sinew! Nothing cuts that!"

"She just did!" Dreyl barked, catching his breath.

But they had no time.

The boy walked toward them slowly, the barrel of his gun now glowing faintly white-hot.

He raised it—aimed.

Time slowed.

Dreyl's hand shot into his hoodie.

The Fatebreaker burned against his palm.

He rolled it across the ground.

CLINK.

It landed.

2: Partnered fate.

His eyes widened.

The die flashed red once—and Viper's eyes glowed with it, too.

A tether of energy sparked between them—two red lines tying their wrists together in an unspoken pact.

"…What did you do?" Viper hissed.

"We fight as one," Dreyl growled. "Your skills. My instincts. Shared fate."

"Oh, you better not suck," Viper muttered—and grinned.

Together, they moved.

Dreyl bolted straight for the boy. Viper spun left, the half-repaired whip snapping in sync. Bullets fired—but this time, Dreyl could see them. Just barely. The red glow of Fatebreaker sharpened everything.

He weaved between death.

One step. Two.

He was inside the boy's guard.

He ducked under the barrel, slid on his knees, and uppercut the assassin in the chin with a red-charged fist.

BOOM.

The boy flew ten feet back, colliding with a parked car and denting the hood.

The girl hissed and vanished again.

"I've got her!" Viper shouted, twisting mid-air.

His whip split again, this time forming two heads—serpents hissing from both arms.

He lashed them outward just as the girl reappeared behind Dreyl again, guns ready.

But this time—she was caught mid-air by the twin fangs of Viper's living weapon.

She snarled—but not in pain. In surprise.

"You're not the only freak with fancy tricks," Viper said through clenched teeth.

Dreyl turned, eyes blazing. "Now!"

He jumped and dropkicked the girl out of Viper's hold. She spun mid-air, rebounding off a wall.

The boy had gotten back up. He wiped blood from his mouth.

Then—for the first time—they both spoke in eerie unison.

"You are not what was foretold."

"Fate must remain sacred."

"You will die."

Dreyl felt the ground shake as they raised their weapons again. But this time, he didn't back down.

He grabbed the Fatebreaker and hurled it once more.

Roll: 5. Reversal.

The die cracked with light. And something changed.

The air reversed.

Bullets fired at them—but they slowed. Stopped mid-air.

Then turned back.

The twins' own shots redirected and zipped back toward them.

The girl's eyes widened. The boy dove.

Too late.

The bullets clipped their shoulders—non-lethal, but enough to stagger them.

Dreyl and Viper charged.

"Double shot!" Dreyl yelled.

"Copy that!" Viper answered.

They struck together—Dreyl's flaming right fist slamming into the boy's chest, Viper's whip wrapping the girl like a net.

Both twins hit the pavement at the same time, groaning in pain.

But not unconscious.

Just defeated.

For now.

The girl coughed, raising her face.

"You are… wrong," she rasped. "You are a disruption."

The boy sat up beside her. "But strong."

Dreyl walked up to them slowly, glowing red fading.

"You were sent to kill me. Who sent you?"

The girl hesitated. Then said: "We answer only to the Coils."

The Coils of Kaen.

Viper exhaled. "Figures."

Dreyl crouched down, meeting her eerie eyes.

"Next time you shoot at me," he said, "make sure you finish the job."

The girl blinked once. "We never fail twice."

They vanished into smoke—leaving only the silence of cracked pavement behind.

Viper looked at Dreyl, panting.

"That was insane."

"Yeah."

Viper cracked his neck. "So… cult assassins. Mind-controlled girls. Divine bullets. Still think skipping school was a bad idea?"

Dreyl chuckled.

Then looked up at the blood-streaked moon.

"They're getting closer."

"Let them come," Viper said, licking blood from his lip. "I'm just getting warmed up."

And in Dreyl's pocket, the Fatebreaker pulsed once more—quiet, waiting.

The game had just begun.