As the young woman sprints through the corridor and up the stairs, the constant crackling of soldiers’ radios blares from all directions.

  ” she grumbles between breaths.

  “I can’t even protect myself in this state. This is the worst!” Her body is still drained from using up all of her energy to destroy Pandora’s box, leaving her temporarily unable to rely on her abilities: .

  Before reaching the top level, another troupe of armed soldiers bursts through the exit door. The sound of their boots slamming against the floor, synchronised and relentless, echoes through the stairwell.

  Valencia’s heart pounds in her chest as she hears the sharp orders being barked at her, the chaos closing in around her.

  Without a second thought, Valencia grips the stair railing with one arm, her muscles straining as she swings herself off the edge. The adrenaline surges through her veins, her instincts taking over, and her mind only focuses on evading the soldiers.

  As she drops down. The world blurs around her. Her fingers stretch out instinctively, reaching for anything to break her fall. With a desperate brush, her hand grazes the edge of the lower floor stair railing, her body twisting mid-air as she flings her body inside with all her remaining strength.

  Her legs hit the floor first, the shock reverberating through her bones, the sudden movement sending her tumbling.

  Before she can regain her bearings, a strong arm grabs her firmly and drags her into a darkened corner.

  Instinctively, Valencia struggles, throwing wild strikes at the figure, but they counter every one of her attacks with ease. A lowered voice speaks calmly but vigorously.

  “Stop. Stop. I’m on your side.”

  Valencia pauses, breathing heavily, her eyes narrowing as she looks up at the man holding her arms. He’s taller, with dark brown hair falling over his forehead and piercing brown eyes that gleam faintly with the familiar lavender tints.

  It's the unmistakable mark of a bounder.

  “…You’re a bounder?!” she exclaims, her voice low but tense.

  “How did you…?” the man tilts his head, slightly surprised by her quick deduction. “...You’re right. I’m Velchanos from the—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of boots pounding against the floor and shouting orders cut him off. The soldiers are closing in fast.

  “You are injured aren’t you, if you’ll excuse me,” Velchanos says. Without waiting for permission, he scoops Valencia up effortlessly in a single motion and sprints down the hallway.

  His movements are indescribably fast, so agile that one might see them as blurred figures, dodging attacks and knife strikes with a precision that seems almost inhuman.

  The confined space of the hospital corridor doesn’t slow him down, and he weaves past obstacles with Valencia in his arms with ease.

  “Why are those guys after you?” the brown-haired man asks, his voice steady despite their neck-breaking pace.

  “They want something very important from me,” Valencia replies shortly, her tone clipped.

  She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously and asks, “It’s unusual for a stranger bounder to step into someone else’s affairs. Are you working with ?”

  Velchanos hesitates but eventually answers after a moment, “…It’s true that I’m a bounder, but I have no intention of joining that organisation. Now let me ask you. Why didn’t you use your ability? You look like someone who could get away without a hand.”

  “Well, to put it short…” Valencia huffs, frustration evident in her voice, “I’m unable to use my ability…temporarily.”

  Velchanos shoots her a glance, sighing at their situation. “And I should let you know that I can’t use mine either.”

  “What?!” Valencia exclaims, her disbelief cutting through the urgency of the situation.

  With no time to argue, Velchanos tightens his hold on Valencia, his strides long as quick as he navigates through the chaos of armed men.

  Soldiers appear at every turn, blocking exits and narrowing their options. The brown-haired man twists and pivots with startling speed, using his reflexes to dodge strikes and slip past several armed people at once, his grip on Valencia never falters.

  The fluorescent hospital light flickers as they pass, creating an almost strobe-like effect that disorients their pursuers.

  Velchanos uses the momentary confusion to his advantage, darting into a stairwell and slamming the door shut behind them. He takes the stairs four at a time, his breathing steady despite the frantic pace.

  “Hold on,” he mutters under his breath as the sound of pursuits grows fainter.

  Reaching the ground level, Velchanos pushes through the emergency exit door with a burst of strength. The door slams open, and they spill out into the crowded city.

  The stark contrast between the sterile, chaotic hospital interior and the vibrant, bustling evening streets momentarily startles Valencia.

  The noise of car horns, chatter, and street vendors washes over them, blending with the faint echo of soldiers’ shouts behind.

  Velchanos wastes no time, weaving through the wave of people, his grip firm on Valencia as he steers her through the maze. The crowd provides a temporary shield, forcing the pursuing soldiers to hesitate and break formation.

  “Stay close, miss blue-haired,” he says sharply, eyes darting around for potential escape routes.

  The tall man gradually slows down, guiding Valencia into a narrow corner between two bustling street vendors. Letting her down gently, he crouches to meet her eyes. Valencia notices his hands are coated in a pair of half-palm gloves, covering his fingertips.

  “Are they gone?” she asks while the man’s hands moving to the buttons of his outer suit jacket.

  “Seems like it, for now,” he says quietly.

  He then shrugs off the dark fabric and quickly drapes it over her head before she can question him, adjusting it to conceal her distinctive hair.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Your hair and patient’s clothes are way too noticeable,” he mutters, tucking stray strands under the makeshift hood.

  Valencia, catching her breath, nods slightly, her gaze flicking back to his gloved hands.

  “Thanks…”

  Velchanos studies her for a moment before asking, “How’s your wound?”

  She rolls her shirt up slightly, revealing the white bandages wrapped around her stomach. “Almost healed. Good thing the stitches stayed intact,” she reassures him, offering an awkward smile.

  Velchanos exhales through his nose as he inspecting the injuries and the seriousness of the situation, “Come with me, it’s safer this way.”

  ──────────────────────────────────────────

  The night air is cool, a welcome contrast to the heat of the day. The clouds have settled into a calm rhythm, with the city below buzzing with distant lights and muffled sounds.

  Exhausted from evading Theodore’s relentless troupes all day, Valencia and Velchanos found temporary solace atop a tall building. The rooftop offers a breathtaking view of the sprawling night city, its twinkling lights simmering like scattered stars.

  Valencia sits near the edge, her legs dangling over as the wind tugs her hair, and for a moment she let the peacefulness of the scene wash over her.

  Her thoughts still swirl with confusion, suspicion, and gratitude as she glances back at Velchanos. He had disappeared briefly and now returned, carrying bags from a nearby convenience store.

  He set them down with a soft thud and crumple sound of a plastic bag of Velchanos pulling out a bundle of clean clothes and handing them to her.

  When Valencia returns from the other side of the rooftop after changing to a fresh outfit, she finds him leaning against the ledge, his eyes fixed on the city below. He doesn’t acknowledge her at first, but she notices the subtle shift in his posture as she walks closer.

  As Valencia settles next to him, the cool metal of the roof presses against her skin. The quiet music of the city below feels distant and surreal as if they’re the only two people left in the world.

  Valencia lets out a soft sigh and starts explaining to her what causes the uproar of catch-and-run.

  Velchanos listens carefully, and he lets out a dry chuckle when she finishes.

  “You expect me to believe that? An influential person hunting you down simply because you took ‘a special object’ from him? That’s an absurd story.”

  She doesn’t answer immediately as the distant wail of sirens cuts through the night. She thought.

  Instead, she simply shrugs.

  Velchanos exhales. “Then again, I did see and help you get away from those soldiers chasing you…”

  “Do you know who’s behind this?”

  Valencia answer without hesitation. Her ability—The Truth—confirming her suspicion. “You might have heard of him from the news…I believe it’s Theodore.”

  Velchanos flinches at the name, his expression shifting for a split second before he regains his composure.

  “That scientist?” His fingers tap rapidly against the ledge. “The one leading Aether Research Corporation?”

  She gives a slight nod. Velchanos lets out a sigh, accepting the unexpected facts.

  A beat of silence passes before another of his suspicion occurs.

  A stray gust of wind lifts the hem of her shift for a drift moment, revealing a glimpse of the bandages around her stomach. He then glances at the bandages wrapped around her left arm before settling back on her.

  “That reminds me, why were you at an acupuncture hospital when you are this injured?”

  “I just know a doctor there who is willing to treat me privately.”

  She puts on the expression that she has every single one of her commissions, an unreadable one. Her tone leaves no room for further questioning.

  After a pause, she narrows her eyes. “And I should ask as well. What were you doing at the acupuncture hospital? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who seeks therapy in my view.”

  Velchanos’ lips twitch slightly in what might have been a smirk. “I wasn’t there for therapy,” he admits. “I have a close friend there. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, so I decided to visit.”

  “…I’m sorry. If it weren’t for me, you might have been able to see him.” Feeling guilty, Valencia lowers her head slightly.

  The brown-haired man shakes his head, his voice low and soothing. “There will always be a next time.”

  Valencia exhales after lifting her head, “Then again. Thank you for everything today, Mr. Velchanos.”

  Velchanos glances at her briefly, “You’ve thanked me more than enough times today, and I don’t need anything in return.”

  After a beat, he breaks the lingering tension, “What are you going to do? Now that you have Theodore coming after you, unstoppable.”

  Valencia turns her gaze back to the horizon, her eyes flickering brightly with the vibrant colours of the city, her voice carrying a weight of meaning.

  “In every shadow cast by light, there lies a bridge between clarity and obscurity. This location’s energy… it infuses with the strongest connection to my fellow Bounder’s familiar.”

  Her words hung in the air, heavy with a philosophical undertone. Then, she calls out softly, “I know you’re here, .”

  From the darkness behind her, a figure materialised from her shadow. A sleek feline figure emerged. Its eyes glow faintly, a soft white light, as it tiptoeing towards her.

  In its mouth, it carries a small paper letter with a noticeable emerald-colour seal on it. Valencia reaches out and takes the letter with careful hands. and opens it to read, illuminated by the faint glow of Velchanos’ phone flashlight.

  The letter is brief. The sender assures Valencia they are safe, explaining that the soldiers hadn’t questioned anything and had simply left. They then ask about the situation on her side.

  Valencia folds the letter carefully, with a quiet, relieved, sigh. She looks up at Velchanos, “This,” she says, “This is . A messenger familiar of my friend.” She watches as the feline creature’s eyes shift towards them.

  “This is my first time seeing a friendly creature...or a cat familiar.” Velchanos looks intently at the liquid form of the dark feline.

  The woman then grabs a pen and some paper from the grocery bag Velchanos had brought, quickly scribbling a response to the unnamed sender whom she knows well.

  As she folds the letter, she signals Shadow to collect her message, “Bring this back to your owner.”

  The darkness nods as it bites onto the letter firmly before it moves back into the shadows, merging seamlessly with the darkness once again.

  Valencia takes a moment, her thoughts turning inward, contemplating a new plan.

  With Valencia temporarily losing all of her , she is in a vulnerable state, unable to protect herself in the way she’s used to.

  She can feel her body and energy still recovering from the intense drain of the Pandora’s box, and with Theodore’s subordinates and soldiers closing in, she knows she can’t afford to remain in this weakened state for long.

  She looks over at Velchanos, her expression shifting slightly. There’s something about him that suggests trust, even if it’s a surface level.

  She’s seen his strength even without his abilities. There’s something about his unflinching determination and the sense of security he carries that makes her believe he might be someone she can rely on.

  Only if he agrees to help her.

  “You weren’t not born with an ability, were you?” She starts a new conversation bluntly.

  His body stiffens, turning his gaze fully on her. “How did you know?” Though the city's dim lights hardly reflect his expression, his tone is guarded, and his gloved hand clenches, ready to act if she proves dangerous.

  Valencia meets his gaze steadily. “All people with the abilities have those purple tints in their eyes. People who are born with it wouldn’t be surprised by such basic knowledge. That leaves two possibilities—you’re either a . And the latter… is supposed to be practically impossible.”

  He exhales slowly, his grip loosening slightly. “With such little information, you’re able to deduce this much. That’s… impressive.”

  “What do you want?” His voice is cold, expression hardening, as if he’s on guard again.

  “Mr. Velchanos…” she speaks calmly. Until Valencia recovers, she needs someone capable of protecting her, someone she can trust, even temporarily. After gathering her thoughts and weighing options, she turns to him and speaks, calm but resolute.

  “I have a proposal. If you agree to protect me with your strength while I recover, I will help you in return with whatever powers I have once I regain them."

  Velchanos raises an eyebrow at her offer, his expression unreadable as he considers her words.

  “What if I don’t need your help?” he replies, his tone calm with an edge of curiosity and cautiousness. “What exactly will I gain from this ?”

  Valencia’s lips curl into her signature mischievous smile, the kind that hints at secrets she holds.

  She tilts her head slightly, her azure orbs with the bounder’s tint gleaming in the dim light as she points at his hands, still covered by the half-palm leather gloves he hasn't removed all day.

  “That,” she says.

  Velchanos’ eyes narrow slightly, following her gaze to his hands. He doesn’t flinch, but there’s a flicker of something, perhaps a hesitation, before his usual stoic demeanour returns. “...What about my hands?” he asks in a cautious tone.

  “I know someone,” Valencia replies, her smile widening. “Someone who can fix them. Whatever you’re hiding under those gloves, whatever scar or you carry…I can help you.”