Chapter 1
His body reclined calmly on the rooftop chair. Elegant. Graceful. He gazed at the azure sky, facial muscles slack, face blank. Yet his presence pressed down on the thin air, heavy, suffocating.
And those eyes.
They carried that look.
Not mere calm. A calm wrapped in lethality, deep and measured.
When a man confuses ambition for inevitability,
someone must remind him where the limits truly are.
His eyelids closed. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips — amusement, barely restrained.
You've forced this, Thorne
He rose. Silently. Every movement precise, deliberate. Each step measured, a study in control, until he rested his arms on the railing.
His gaze swept the chaos below. And then it stopped. On a solitary figure.
Out of place amid the vibrant beach.
There you are, Quarneth… His mind sharpened, racing silently, though his expression betrayed nothing — neutral, unreadable.
……………………………………..
While amid the loud, eloquent, zealous roar of the vibrant populace, Quarneth stood unfazed. Calm. Quiet. Waves crashed at her feet, salt mist brushing her ankles. Her gaze remained fixed on the vast expanse of the ocean. Her eyes carried that faint glow — restrained, contained — while her countenance stayed aloof, distant, as though her consciousness had wandered far beyond place and time, excavating the bounds of nowhere.
At such low internal energy, she existed among people vibrating at excess.
Alone. Entirely.
The beach is vibrant to the eye… but what reflects outward is rarely what moves within the shadows of the psyche.
At the thought, her lips curved into a faint, ephemeral smile.
“I see you enjoy the view.”
The voice sounded beside her — quiet, controlled. Anonymous.
Too close.
How had she not registered the presence at such proximity? Why hadn’t the shield displaced him beyond her minimum safety radius? At the very least, why had her systems failed to flag even a whisper of his signal?
A sly smile claimed her lips. Her eyes flashed — sharp, calculating.
Interesting.
Her mouth remained closed.
She didn’t respond.
She didn’t need to.
Slowly, deliberately, her head turned.
Two empty sockets met her gaze — voids holding contact without effort, without words. Silence stretched between them, dense and deliberate.
Then, simultaneously — perfectly in sync — both averted their gaze back to the endless ocean.
“One question.”
His index finger rose while the others curled inward, eyes never leaving the vast fleets of water.
A pause. Measured. Not seeking permission.
“What would you say if I told you I love you?”
From the corner of his unfocused vision, he caught it — the faint smile playing at her lips, the sharpened intensity igniting her eyes. He catalogued it. Stored it.
With trained calculus of perception, she noticed it — both beside her and before her.
Beside her, his parted index and middle fingers cleaved the ocean’s surface. Water split cleanly, forming a deep, temporary trough — an excavation carved into the sea itself. Ephemeral. Brief.
Yet long enough.
Long enough to be witnessed by a portion of the populace.
The unnaturalness rippled outward. The masses felt it — fear, anticipation — and the beach dissolved into chaos.
“What was that?”
Despite her cold composure, her voice emerged indefinitely sweet — deliberately so — clearly indicating the phenomenon.
“A question.”
“A well‑orchestrated reply,” she paused. “But I must say — I don’t have an answer to your question.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need to answer it.”
“Why. What’s the logic?”
Her head tilted slightly. Her eyes traced him — the emptiness of that expression, devoid of emotion. And yet… he was pulchritudinous. His presence ensorcelled, bending perception without effort.
Her facial muscles betrayed interest.
“You’re completely irrelevant to me.”
The words stood in stark contradiction to what her expression revealed.
“Highly doubt that,” he replied. “You’ve shown considerable interest since my arrival. Why claim irrelevance?”
Flamboyantly, he withdrew his hand from his pocket and pointed toward the ground. The earth responded — a small‑radius excavation forming instantly beneath his gesture.
Her eyes quivered as they locked onto him.
Silence reigned.
Something was wrong. Why couldn’t her weapon quantify these anomalies? Why did every metric fall short?
“Since you can’t answer,” he continued calmly, “you also can’t retrieve the data that’s captured your curiosity.”
“I must admit…” Her lips curved into a cold, sly smile. “I’m impressed by your composure.”
Should you fall in love with me, you’ll be exceedingly useful. Emotional leverage is efficient.
“You’re in a league of your own,” she added.
“Perhaps… I could even fall in love with you.”
He didn’t answer. He knew better.
His unfocused eyes simply reclaimed the ocean’s magnificent expanse.
“What have you done to my weapons?”
She finally voiced the question she’d been holding.
“Hacked them. Altered part of the algorithm. Nothing you can’t repair — I won’t indulge further.”
His gaze met hers then. Piercing. Unapologetic.
“Your security architecture is weak. There's data I encoded there”
A light smile — entirely at odds with the coldness in her eyes — etched itself across her lips.
“Your presence is… intriguing. If I indulge you any longer, this interest may compound into something else. If I don’t, I risk losing something valuable.”
She exhaled softly.
“I’m conflicted,” she said. “And amused.”
Glowing red bullets ruptured the thin air, screaming straight toward him.
Then they curved.
Their trajectories bent impossibly, softening as they descended into his open palm. One by one, they settled — harmless, obedient — before fusing together. Geometry unfolded between his fingers: quizzical, impossible, radiant blue. A form neither weapon nor art, yet unmistakably both.
Without so much as a glance, he released it.
The construct shot back along the bullets’ original path, slicing the air as though it had never been resisted.
A man stood ahead, eyes locked onto the rapidly flashing streak. In his grasp rested a brilliant geometric weapon — a hybrid of sword and gun — gleaming with engineered elegance. He fired. Precise. Calculated.
To his astonishment — and to Quarneth’s quiet amusement — the projectile merged seamlessly upon contact. No impact. No resistance. The streak did not slow.
Both of them perceived it then.
It was slow.
Deliberately so.
Capable — unmistakably — of far greater velocity.
“Not good,” he murmured.
Mid‑distance, the streak vanished — then reappeared before him in an instant. His eyes quivered. His limbs betrayed a brief tremor.
But he was adept. Highly so.
His body reacted before thought completed itself. The sword collided with the streak.
The impact hurled him backward. Force rippled outward, disturbing the wind, lifting dust into the air as the ground protested.
He twisted mid‑flight — a light backflip — and launched himself skyward. His body glided effortlessly through height and distance, before being swallowed by a glowing red ship that vanished beyond the horizon in a blink.
Quarneth watched, unblinking.
“That man has been watching over me,” she said calmly. “He kills anyone who provokes a smile from me. He isn’t the type to retreat over such a trivial exchange.”
“I know,” the voice beside her replied. “For every woman he desires, Lucien observes first — then he imprisons them in his home. If you went there now, you’d find them.”
“You seem well‑informed,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Which suggests you’ve clashed before… and that he knows something about you.”
In her mind, Lucien lips replayed the earlier movement.
Not good. It’s not that fucking guy.
Her pupils constricted suddenly.
A reflexive reaction to what now stood before her perception.
“Quarneth,” the voice continued evenly, “I’ll be blunt. You’re one of the critical elements required for the reaction of the chaos that’s about to unfold.”
A pause — intentional.
“Survive,” he added softly. “And I will inevitably fall in love with you.”
She heard the voice.
But his form had already dissolved — not moved, not vanished — simply ceased to exist within perception.
Only she had heard it.
That intrigued her far more than the display of force.
What was his name, anyway?
Her footsteps carried her forward. Light.
Unhurried. She entered the water as though answering a private call, the ocean parting around her form.
Until she was submerged.
Completely immersed.
………………………………………
Whilst atop the rooftop of the towering building, that man’s eyes never left Quarneth.
Then — they shifted.
Slowly, deliberately, his pupils dilated as her companion dissipated from his line of sight.
So it’s you… Infinity.
“Been a long time, Kyun.”
The familiar voice filled his ears.
His head turned unhurriedly, eyes settling on the side profile of the man who had accompanied Quarneth on the beach. “It has,” Kyun replied, his gaze drifting back toward the horizon.
Fragments resurfaced.
We’ll meet again when you’re looking for someone. A woman. That will mark the beginning of chaos. Be sure to survive, Kyun.
Those empty eyes had pierced straight through him.
Infinity was… singular. Or so he had believed.
A faint smile crossed Kyun’s lips. Ardent zeal ignited behind his eyes as both men stood overlooking the horizon.
“So,” Kyun said at last, “you’re the one responsible for that incident.”
“Naturally. The chaos has already begun. And you’re one of the crucial elements within it.”
Their eyes locked.
“What data about her are you trying to hide at the cost of so many lives?”
Kyun’s smile deepened, restrained. “You truly are her creation. After all, you were engineered in the lab by Quinn and Rei. And through your creation, I uncovered data about her that was… calamitous.”
“I see.” Infinity’s tone remained calm.
“Your devotion to science fractured you — yet you endured. Why are you so desperate to protect that data about her? Do you fear its exploitation?”
“You’re not wrong,” Kyun replied. “And I owe Quinn and the old man Rei my gratitude for that access. They accessed the lab to me.”
“Quinn has always been exceptional. I wonder why she didn’t use the Mirror of Thorns on you.”
“I assume she understood its danger.”
“Naturally.” Infinity paused. “I’ve already told you that you’re a crucial element in this chaos. Yet I’ve withheld the identities of the other players — intentionally. You’ll entangle with them in due time.”
A slight shift in the air.
“But I’ll make an exception for one.”
Infinity’s gaze hardened.
“The bearer of greater chaos. The one subjected to the Mirror of Thorns — Alaric. When we meet again, death may be close enough to claim you… should you fail to adapt quickly.”
“I don’t recognize the name,” Kyun replied calmly.
“But I know this — make sure you survive.”
A thin smile followed.
“Let the games begin.”
“Very well.”
A cellphone materialized in Infinity’s open palm, already dialing.
“Thorne. I’ve confirmed it. Quarneth has the data.”
“I see,” came the reply, voice rich with vigor and intrigue. “Then why tell me? What’s your play this time?”
“Ayla will act today,” Infinity said. “With my assistance. Which means you’ll be vulnerable. Let’s keep our emotions in check… and enjoy the experiment while we’reat it, shall we?”
“What experiment?”
“Thorne — that’s the ending. For now.”
The phone vanished.
“Do I still need Quarneth?” Kyun murmured aloud.
“Of course you do.”
Kyun exhaled softly. “Then I’ll have to revise my strategy — thanks to your inconvenient interference.”
“That,” Infinity replied evenly, “is precisely my intent. Symmetrical or asymmetrical — I’ll bug the experiment.”
…………………………………….
Elsewhere, immersed deep beneath the ocean, the structure fractured open. Water displaced violently as the red ship slipped through, descending with controlled elegance before anchoring itself within the hollowed remains.
Lucien disembarked.
His countenance was irascible — irritation barely restrained.
The building beneath him was filled with women. Free to move within its confines, yet forbidden from leaving. Contained luxury. Controlled captivity.
His gaze lowered to his weapon.
That fucking guy emerged from the blur before we could even act — before we could lure him out. I can’t allow Quarneth to fall for him. I’ve always taken every woman I desired… and she will be no exception.
He dropped into a seat, posture slackening as calculation replaced agitation.
“I want data on Infinity,” he demanded coldly. “We’ve made contact with him — that alone is a problem. Accelerate preparations for the Voidscythe. We can’t afford delay any longer, or we fail to achieve our objectives.”
“No need to search for data on me.”
The voice was quiet. Even. Present — yet untraceable.
Lucien’s eyes lifted toward the ceiling.
Then they quivered.
The silence deepened unnaturally. Pressure shifted. The upper structure of the building detonated without sound, collapsing into a fine mist of dust and debris that never drifted downward but remained suspended by invisible forces.
“Welcome to the experiment, Lucien.”
From above, a throne of blue light descended — seamless, geometric, absolute. Seated upon it was a lone male figure, posture elegant, composed. Long black-jet hair fell loosely behind him.
The same man from the beach.
Infinity.
His face was neutral. Entirely. No curiosity. No contempt. Nothing to read.
.................................……….
The sky above was clear — stars unbroken by cloud. Yet the earth below lay shrouded in darkness. Not total. Just enough for the stars’ faint light to remind the world it still existed.
Across every screen, every device, every interface — an image appeared.
A woman.
Her face was awash with emotion. Neither cold nor warm.
Turmoil.
Psychological collapse held barely in check.
Her disheveled appearance conveyed more data than words ever could. The world watched.
“The broadcast system that overrode every channel and device three months ago,” a man said from within a chamber of glass-layered computer interfaces, amusement etched into his features. “The one that promised something would begin in three months— without explanation.”
He leaned back.
“This hacker is interesting. Allow me — The Dark Hacker — to dismantle their system.”
On the broadcast, the woman began to speak.
“We possess data that requires the attention of the entire world,” she said, voice steady despite the fracture beneath it. “It concerns every life on Earth. It's directly tied to the leader of Sovereign Forge — an organization which surpass the threat of any nation.”
An image surfaced beside her.
“His name is Thorne.”
“If this man dies, it will trigger a vacuum-decay anchor — a catastrophic event capable of consuming the entire world into mist.”
She inhaled.
“This data comes from the world’s number one detective — Raizen. He lost his life attempting to uncover a method of prevention. His final words were…”
Her voice tightened.
“Quarneth has the data. She is the daughter of the Emperor of the Obsidian Empire.”
A gunshot cracked through the transmission.
A bullet tore past her face.
She didn’t flinch.
“So this is my ending,” she said calmly. “I cannot win with Thorne. But I know there are those in this world who can.”
Her voice hardened.
“To those individuals — survive.”
Her body jerked forward. Eyes wide, denying what had just occurred. Blood spilled from her mouth as a figure emerged behind her — face obscured, presence unmistakable.
The insignia of Sovereign Forge was emblazoned across his attire.
“To those who possess the rebellious disposition she mentioned,” he said coldly, “consider this a warning. No one survives the Sovereign Forge— just as Ayla will not.”
His open palm extended toward the woman.
“But we will preserve her life,” he continued. “Not end it. The reason will become apparent in time. No one is permitted to interfere with our greater objective.”
The screens went black.
Everywhere.
As though the world itself had blinked.
....………………………………..
A man sat with one leg resting on the seat, the other planted on the floor. His gaze was fixed on the darkened screen before him. An irascible edge marked his features — impatience barely contained.
“This guy’s going to be a serious nuisance,” he muttered softly, to no one in particular. “True or not, we’ll have to take him down. If he’s the leader of Sovereign Forge… then we’re in it for hell.”
“Alaric,” a feminine voice called from beside the door, “the clock has struck.”
His head turned slowly toward her. Then, in one smooth motion, he leapt from the seat, hands sliding into his pockets.
“Let’s go.”
“Won’t you even tell me where we’re going?”
“Exactly.”
“That risks my trust in you,” she replied calmly.
“And I fear losing it.”
“I know,” he said, already moving forward. “But I trust you, Tsukiko.”
“I don’t trust those words,” she countered. “If I recall correctly, there was something you meant to tell me.”
“I know.”
His steps carried him forward with impatient elegance.
“There’s an organization,” he began, “comprised of the presidents of every nation. Yet it’s led by someone who governs no country of his own. In effect… he governs the world through them.”
Tsukiko listened silently.
“That organization fully manifested a month ago. I can’t be certain,” he continued, “but I have a premonition. The man shown earlier — he’s involved. Possibly the president himself.”
“So that’s it?”
“It is.”
....................................................
In a hotel room.
That woman — Ayla — sat slumped on a sofa, her appearance disheveled. Her face was aghast, eyes quivering, stunned beyond composure.
Her head hung low; she couldn’t hold eye contact with the presence seated before her.
He sat elegantly, legs crossed.
“You planned all of this,” she said, pausing to steady her trembling voice. “Why did you control my expressions… my words? No — how did you do it?”
“I’m running an experiment,” he replied evenly. “One in which you are a critical element of the reaction.”
He regarded her without change.
“Ayla — show me what you’re capable of. Play for what you desire. Perhaps… play for him.”
Drained of energy, she struggled to lift her head. When she finally met his gaze, she found nothing there.
No emotion. No judgment.
“Now I’m certain,” she said quietly. “You’re Infinity.”
“I won’t deny it,” he replied. “Dear Ayla.”
His smartphone rang.
He glanced at the display and answered without hesitation. “Say, Thorne. Why are you calling me not her?”
“Was she truly the one?” came the reply — mischief woven unmistakably into the tone. “And where is she?”
“She’s right in front of me,” Infinity said calmly. “If you wish, I can pass it to her.”
“I see,” Thorne replied. “So that’s it.”
The call ended.
The phone slid in Infinity's pants pockets. He rested his chin lightly against the knuckles of his right hand.
“If love exists,” he said, “— no, if emotions are truly that potent — then Thorne’s emotions should be conflicted now. His reasoning will degrade under pressure, especially with the number of adversaries he’s about to face… including you.”
His eyes closed calmly as he leaned back, pausing in thought.
“Let’s test the strength of your love,” he continued. “Protect him. Otherwise, the next time he appears, he may be in a zoo.”
A beat.
“No — a zoo implies preservation. They’ll construct a laboratory museum instead. Extreme containment. Measures designed to ensure he survives.”
“I wonder who could accomplish that,” Ayla murmured.
“Someone you’re familiar with,” Infinity replied. “Alaric.”
“Not him,” she said instinctively. “I doubt that—”
“I’m certain you shouldn’t assume he’s unchanged,” Infinity interrupted, tone unwavering.
“How much could he possibly change to achieve something like that?”
“Never underestimate those who’ve been subjected to the Mirror of Thorns
Her head tilted slightly, posture still elegant despite exhaustion. “I’ve heard rumors,” she said. “That cursed mirror created by big sister — Quinn. The one that reflect one's true psyche. I suppose it’s time I reconsider his psyche.”
A faint, amused smile crossed her lips. She ran her fingers through her hair, styling it back, then rose gracefully. In a few measured, deliberate, seductive steps, she stood before him.
She leaned down.
Her lips brushed his — light, fleeting.
When she straightened, her smile was radiant.
Dazzling.
Infinity remained unchanged.
Blank.
“We humans are bound by our desires,” she said softly. “Weak to them.”
“Your statement is bugged,” Infinity replied. “But I won’t deny that it holds truth — for certain individuals, under certain conditions.”
“You really are rare,” she said. “And handsome. There’s something about you I adore.”
“I know,” he replied. “Ayla — there’s something you must be informed of now. It concerns the chaos reaction.”
A pause.
“You’re an exception to this knowledge.”
His gaze remained neutral.
“Because I intend to bug the experiment.”
……………………………………..
The room was eerily quiet — mantled beneath the reign of dead silence.
Three figures sat around an enormous, thirty-seat water-pool table, its surface composed of complex, astounding geometry that reflected light in shifting patterns.
“So I was right,” Alaric said at last, his irritated voice carrying effortlessly through the stillness. His eyes were fixed directly on Thorne. “I’m impressed. You’re the president of the Pax of Presidents. Which means you rule the entire world — save for the Obsidian Empire.”
“It appears you’re no longer the boy Ayla shattered back then,” Thorne replied. His white hair flowed as though suspended in running water, zeal alive in both his expression and tone. “You’ve grown — just as she anticipated. Though your desire has exceeded even her projections, to the point of becoming… inconvenient for us.”
A pause.
“But perhaps that’s for the best. I’m curious to see how you choose to play this game. Big brother”
“You’re resurfacing those memories now,” Alaric said coolly. “They did help me grow when I reflected on them. Given that you remain unchanged, I doubt it will be difficult to outmaneuver you… lil bro.”
“Do you know why I agreed to this meeting?” Thorne asked calmly. “Alaric — do you truly believe what we seek is control over the world?”
His eyes sharpened.
“If that’s your assumption, you’ve already lost.”
“So my fear was justified,” Alaric replied. “Then tell me — what is it you want?”
A mischievous smile curved Thorne’s lips as he leaned back in his seat, amused.
“Excellent.”
The word rang out brightly — in stark contrast to the deep, irritated frown now etched across Alaric’s face.
“If you’re incapable of grasping the greater purpose on your own,” Thorne continued, his voice brimming with pleasure, “then you’re leagues behind. I’ll grant you two days.”
A pause — deliberate.
“After that, I’ll annihilate you.”
“Given your manner of speech,” Alaric said slowly,
“I’m forced to wonder — was the rumor Ayla spread actually true?”
“I see,” Thorne replied. “Why don’t you test it?”
“Gladly.”
Alaric rose to his feet, murderous intent flaring unmistakably in his eyes.
Then he turned toward the door.
“I still have a life to live, brother,” he said dryly. “No way I’m taking that kind of fucking risk.”
“Then we’ll be leaving,” Tsukiko said as she stood with effortless elegance. Neither her face nor her tone betrayed emotion.
“Naturally,” a soft voice descended from above.
All heads lifted.
The ceiling panels rotated.
There — eyes closed — Infinity was pressed casually against the ceiling, his back resting where gravity should have claimed him.
“Alaric fears for his life,” Infinity said evenly, “and Kyun’s little sister is already bored with the conversation.”
A beat.
“It’s been a long time, Tsukiko”
“Are you running one of those experiments you used to conduct back in school?” Nyx asked calmly. “Infinity.”
“Of course,” he replied. “Those were the best days, weren’t they?”
His gaze — neutral, unreadable — drifted between them.
Without warning, his body detached from the ceiling and began to fall toward the pool below.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Perfectly orchestrated.
The three figures instinctively retreated from the table.
“Let’s meet again,” Infinity said as he descended. “All three of you.”
When his body met the water, it did not splash.
It parted the surface cleanly — without ripple, without disturbance — and dissolved into
nothingness.
Gone.
