When Sky Break

AluM7 cheerful synthesized voice in form of a custom notification burst into the A Association's group chat, accompanied by an attached image. "Alert, everyone! I've processed the London security footage! Look here!"

The image was a map of central London highlighted by a glowing red circle. "There's a suspicious lack of foot traffic in this specific area compared to historical averages," AluM7's message continued, "despite it being a prime route from the auction house. It's almost... too quiet."

StreetLaw was quick to reply. "I'll have my men check it out."

Bookworm_Reg chimed in next, his message sounding more anxious than usual. "Speaking of unusual activity, I've just flagged something rather peculiar in the financial sector. There's been a sudden, abnormal increase in investment in London's tourism industry—specifically, a series of rapid, high-volume purchases of hotels and tour group operators, all traced back to shell corporations established only last week. It's… disproportionate to any current market trends. Almost as if someone is preparing for a very large influx of visitors, or perhaps, establishing a network of safe houses under a legitimate guise."

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Kaito unlocked the door to his apartment, the familiar click a welcome sound after the day's muted anxieties. "I'm home, Maria!" he called out, pushing the door open fully. The scent of her subtle, almost floral, perfume mixed with the lingering smell of miso from dinner. He stepped inside, shrugging off his backpack.

Maria, who had been sitting calmly on the sofa, seemingly lost in thought, suddenly froze. Her head snapped towards him, her green eyes widening in alarm, not at him, but at something unseen on him. Before Kaito could even register her expression, she moved with a terrifying, unnatural speed. In a blur, she was in front of him, grabbing his arm with an iron grip.

Without another word, she surged forward, dragging him with her. The window beside them exploded outwards with a deafening crash, shards of glass showering outside. Maria pulled him towards the gaping hole, clearly intending to jump.

But before she could, an invisible force slammed into her, blasting her backwards into the living room wall. She cried out, the long bag flying from her side and skittering across the floor. Kaito stumbled, released from her grip.

A figure casually stepped through the front door. He was a man in ordinary street clothes, but his presence seemed to dim the very light in the room. He had unnaturally black hair that fell over one of his eyes, giving him a perpetually shadowed look. A cruel, amused smile played on his lips.

"Why in such a hurry?" the man drawled, his voice a mocking purr. "It would be impolite to not entertain a guess, wouldn't you say?"

"Who are you?" Kaito demanded, his voice cracking, adrenaline flooding his system. Maria was already struggling to her feet, her hand instinctively reaching for the bag.

The man ignored Kaito completely, his shadowed eye fixed solely on Maria. "To think," he mused, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone, "if it was the Order who got the sword, I wouldn't be mad. It's fair game, after all. Our ancient rivalry had always respected the rules of the hunt." He took a slow step into the room, his gaze sweeping over the ruined window, then settling on Durandal's bag. "But to have a rat," his voice hardened, "a tiny, insignificant rat, come and snatch it right under our noses... especially from an upstart organization... that is a humiliation. One that will be rewritten in blood."

His hand moved with surprising speed, an ornate, dark symbol glowing faintly on his palm. He began to chant, the words ancient, guttural, and resonating with a raw, untamed power that made Kaito's teeth ache.

"Chaînes d'Ombre!"

As the final syllable left his lips, thin, inky tendrils, appearing to be woven from solidified shadow, erupted from his glowing palm. They shot forward, coiling through the air like living darkness, aiming directly for Maria and Kaito.

Maria reacted with a speed that defied her injuries. With a guttural cry, she thrust her palms forward. A shimmering, invisible wall of force erupted from her, catching the inky tendrils just inches from Kaito and herself. The air crackled, visible distortions rippling across the barrier as the shadowy chains pressed against it. It was like a transparent shield, absorbing the assault, holding firm against the malevolent magic. Her stance, though powerful, showed the strain; her muscles visibly tensed, and a thin trickle of blood began to seep from her nose.

The black-haired man merely chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "Oh my, a pathetic last struggle."

As Maria's knees buckled, the invisible force holding the shadows wavered, and the crimson drip from her nostril became a steady trickle. She was faltering. The man's glowing hand raised higher, gathering dark energy. Kaito's eyes widened, spotting the ominous crackle of sparks forming at the wizard's fingertips – a prelude to another, more violent strike. Without conscious thought, his body moved on its own. He shoved Maria hard, flinging her out of the way.

"Blitz Speer" the wizard whispered, yet his voice was sharp and forceful.

A blinding flash, followed by a searing pain. The lightning spear, crackling with dark energy, impaled Kaito through the chest. He gasped, a guttural cough tearing through his throat as blood erupted from his lips. His legs gave out, and he crumpled to the floor, the world tilting violently. His vision blurred, fading into a kaleidoscope of red and black. Through the haze, he saw the wizard, now standing over Maria, who was still disoriented. An invisible force choked her, lifting her clear off the ground. And in the wizard's free hand, unmistakable even in his fading sight, was a sword gleaming in golden light.

He was dying. The pain was excruciating, but a deeper, colder despair settled over him. This is it? Is this how it ends? He, Kaito, just a normal guy, lying here useless while Maria, someone he'd just met but couldn't abandon, was suffering. He clenched his fists, impotent rage warring with the encroaching darkness. He wanted to live! He wanted to somehow save Maria. Yet, his desperate struggle, his silent plea to defy this end, brought forth a sudden, vivid image: a fleeting glimpse of a female figure from his distant childhood. Yet again, he fails to save anyone.

Darkness consumed him, complete and absolute. Then, a single, flickering light appeared in the void, growing steadily brighter. A soft, female voice, resonating from everywhere and nowhere, spoke to him.

"Do you desire to live?"

"Yes," Kaito croaked, his voice raw, even in the abyss of his mind. "Yes, I do."

No question was asked.

The light coalesced, forming the graceful silhouette of a woman, pure luminescence, reaching out a hand towards him. "Then make a contract with me."

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Back in the shattered living room, the wizard, a cruel smile on his face, was still tightening his invisible grip on Maria, preparing to finish her. Then, a soft golden light began to emanate from the crumpled form of Kaito. Slowly, agonizingly, he began to push himself up, an otherworldly aura radiating from him. The blood on his chest, the gaping wound, seemed to… shimmer.

The wizard's eyes, previously filled with mocking triumph, widened in genuine bewilderment. "Impossible! How...?"

At that moment, the magnificent sword, Durandal, pulsed in the wizard's hand. It hummed, a low, resonant vibration, and then, with a flash of blinding light, it dematerialized from his grip. In the very next instant, it appeared in Kaito's outstretched right hand, gleaming, its surface unmarred by rust or time, looking as brand new as the day it was forged.

Kaito, still in a trance-like state, was suddenly a blur. In a single, impossibly fast movement, he swept forward, scooping Maria into a princess carry, pulling her away from the wizard's grasp just as the shadowy hold shattered. He landed lightly, Maria cradled safely in his arms, his eyes now glowing with an inner light.

The wizard blinked, then slowly began to clap, a dry, sarcastic sound. "Impressive. Truly. A miracle worthy of its myth. The sword... it chooses you? I didn't foresee this." He shook his head, a dark amusement returning to his face. "But a miracle for a child does not change the result. You are still far too weak to win against me, boy. And just so you know, even with your 'miracle,' I've already alerted reinforcements to this location. You're outnumbered."

Kaito said nothing in response to the wizard's taunts. He gently set Maria down on the floor, her form almost immediately enveloped in a soft, golden glow. His own radiance, so brilliant just moments ago, dimmed slightly, a portion of its power now dedicated to shielding her. With his back to the wizard, Kaito rose, Durandal held firmly in his hand.

In a flash, he was no longer across the room but directly in front of the wizard, Durandal a blur as he swung it, ready to strike. The wizard's eyes widened, but he was fast. "Schwert des Blitzes!" he intoned, and a blade of crackling lightning, shaped like a massive Zweihänder, materialized just in time to clash against Durandal with a deafening CRACK that vibrated through the very air.

The wizard, thrown off balance by Kaito's unexpected speed, quickly distanced himself. His hand shot out, and he roared, "Artiglio del Vento".

A violent gust of wind, imbued with a dark, destructive force, erupted from his palm. It tore through Kaito's apartment, ripping through furniture, shredding curtains, and blasting holes in the already ruined walls. The entire structure groaned under the assault, and within seconds, the room was choked with a thick, swirling cloud of dust and debris.

When the dust began to settle, Kaito, with a flick of Durandal, unleashed a gust of pure light that instantly cleared the air. He stood over Maria, who was safe. Kaito, however, bore new wounds, shallow cuts and scrapes marring his skin.

The wizard's smirk deepened. "That baggage you carry... such a burden, boy. It'll only weigh you down. Let me lighten the load."

With a fluid gesture, the surrounding shadows stirred to life. "Danse des Ombres," he intoned.

At once, the darkness twisted unnaturally, gliding across the floor like silent phantoms. Tendrils of shadow lashed out—sharp, bludgeoning, piercing—like a spectral predator hunting in absolute silence.

Kaito stomped the ground. A pulse of radiant light burst outward from beneath him, a soundless shockwave that surged across the floor. In its wake, all trace of shadows were unmade, dissolved into pure nothing as the space was cleansed of even the faintest trace of darkness.

The wizard scoffed, doubling down on his offense. "Feu de Sand!" he cried, and crimson flames erupted towards Maria. Kaito pivoted, Durandal flashing deflected the lethal inferno. Before he could recover, the wizard lunged, conjuring two blades of pure force. "Klingen des Zwielichts!" He bellowed, unleashing a flurry of swift, precist strikes. Kaito blocked, parried, and dodged, Durandal meeting each block with a resonant hum. But the wizard was relentless, weaving between languages with fluid ease. "Illusions Ténébreuses," he whispered, and phantom duplicates of himself flickered into existence, swarming Kaito. He cut through them, only for more to appear, forcing him to expend precious energy.

Kaito was fast, almost impossibly so, brushing aside blade of winds with sweeps of Durandal, deflecting bolts of fire, and intercepting arcane projectiles aimed at Maria. Yet, for all his miraculous power, he made little progress. The wizard seemed inexhaustible, a whirlwind of varied destructive magic. Each dodge, each block, demanded more of Kaito's newfound energy. His movements, once lightning-fast, began to slow. The golden radiance that surrounded him, a testament to his new contract, visibly dimmed, flickering like a dying flame. Grievous wounds appeared on his body from attacks he couldn't completely avoid, soaking his clothes in fresh blood. Outmatched and utterly out of his depth, Kaito was no warrior. He had never engaged in real combat, never wielded a sword in his life. A complete novice, flailing in a deadly dance he wasn't trained for. All he had was the supernatural instinct granted to him by the blade—fleeting, half-formed knowledge not truly his own. It wasn't enough. He was losing. And he couldn't hold on much longer.

Left with no other choice, Kaito raised Durandal, the ancient blade humming with a force that felt far older than anything mortal. Power coiled within him, surging upward like a wave about to break.

From Kaito's stance, a ripple of darkness pulsed inward, not merely shadow, but an unnatural force that bent the very concept of light. The walls of the shattered apartment dimmed first, then the street outside, and then the city itself seemed to recoil. It spread with terrifying speed.

Within moments, a swath of London, nearly 150 quare kilometers, roughly a tenth of the city, was submerged in layered darkness.

At the epicenter, everything was drowned in pitch black. The midday sun overhead was snuffed out as if it had never existed. Surrounding buildings, once bustling in the golden light of day, were now cloaked in absolute monochrome.

Farther from the center, the darkness lightened only slightly. Instead of black, the world turned sickly gray. Colors bled away, as though the entire landscape had been drained.

And at the heart of it all stood Kaito.

In the absolute darkness, only Durandal shone.

Then came a flash.

The wizard had no time to react, rather, he couldn't, not even if he summoned every ounce of will. The ancient sword struck true, piercing his chest and shattering layer upon layer of arcane wards like brittle glass. From the hilt, a surge of holy energy erupted. A column of light tore skyward, engulfing the wizard and rending the blackened sky apart. For a heartbeat, the entire London skyline was bathed in divine brilliance. And the silence as the beam vanished and with it the all-encompassing darkness, leaving only the calm hues of the afternoon sky remained, as through nothing had happened at all.

Kaito gasped, the last of his strength leaving him. He stumbled forward, falling to one knee, Durandal's tip scraping against the broken floor. He was utterly drained, his body screaming in protest.

Yet, from his right, a slow, mocking applause echoed, shattering the brief silence.

"Bravo. Truly exceptional."

Kaito's head snapped up. Standing there, casually brushing dust from his street clothes, was the wizard he had just killed. He was completely unharmed.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," the wizard chuckled, a glint in his shadowed eye. "You put on quite the show. Especially for my clone. I congratulate you on defeating him."

As if on cue, numerous other figures stepped in, most looking exactly like the wizard – same black hair, same shadowed eye – but in subtly different attire. Some wore more formal suits, others trench coats, still others more modern streetwear. Each one was identical, terrifyingly so. Kaito's vision swam, his head throbbing. The impossibility of it all, the sheer exhaustion, overwhelmed him. He fainted, collapsing fully onto the debris-strewn floor.

One of the newly arrived wizards stepped forward, preparing to lay a hand on Kaito. But before he could, a slender figure, cloaked in dark, streamlined armor, silently dropped. With astonishing speed and grace, they swept Kaito up into their arms and vanished, melting into the shadows of the London before the wizards could even react.

Silence descended once again, broken only by the whimpering of Maria, still on the floor, slowly regaining consciousness.

"Shall we pursue?" One of the clones asked the leading wizard.

He simply smiled, looked at Maria. "Don't bother. That knight is an elusive one. Besides," he tilted his head, his gaze piercing, "we can wait for them to come to us."