108 REWIND
It was late afternoon when the elderly man stepped into the newly opened detective firm of Strong and West. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped his worn hat.
"Are you detectives? Please… help us."
Lander ca forward, his expression calm but alert. "What's wrong, old man? How can we help you?"
The man sat down as Dorin offered him a glass of water. "My na is Rohja Wiez. I've lived in this neighborhood all my life. It's a rough area—I've seen my share of trouble. People go missing sotis… but this ti, it's different. This is sothing else entirely."
"What do you an?" Lander asked.
Rohja's voice shook as he spoke. "My neighbors, my friends—they all disappeared in a single night. Around us, hundreds of people are gone. No bodies, no signs of struggle. They just… vanished into thin air. Whole families, gone. They left everything behind. None of it makes sense."
Lander and Dorin exchanged glances.
"Alright," Lander said finally. "We'll take your case."
"Then co with ," Rohja said.
Dorin stayed behind to mind the opening party, while Lander and Dan followed the old man out into the cold streets of lrose City.
They walked deep into the slums, where narrow alleys slled of rust and rain. Rohja led them to a dilapidated two-story house.
"So, everyone in this house disappeared?" Dan asked.
"Yes," Rohja said. "A family of eight—father, mother, three sons, three daughters. All gone in one night."
Lander stepped inside.
Dust hung in the air, and the faint sll of burnt oil lingered. The furniture was untouched. Dishes were still neatly stacked. Nothing had been ransacked.
The locks on the doors weren't tempered with. This wasn't a burglary.
"You're sure there was no sign of struggle here?" Lander asked.
"I'm certain. I spoke to them the day before it happened. They invited for dinner, even. But the next morning, they were gone."
Lander pulled a small handheld scanner from his coat and began sweeping the room. The device humd softly. After a mont, faint readings appeared on their display.
"Lingering ta particles," he said quietly. "Were they ta-humans, those who disappeared?"
Rohja frowned. "No. They were ordinary folk."
While Lander examined the readings, Dan toggled his Vision Connect and scanned the house. His eyes flickered faint blue as data overlays filled his view—jug, table, bed, vase etc.
Most of it was normal. But then, sothing caught his eye—a pamphlet under a nearby table.
He picked it up. The faded cover read: The Church of Rejuvenation.
"Did they go here?" Dan asked.
Rohja nodded slowly. "Yes. They were devout followers. They asked to co with them once or twice, but I'm too old for faith."
Lander turned the pamphlet over in his hands. "The Church of Rejuvenation…" He looked up, eting Dan's eyes. "Perhaps this is where our trail begins."
-----
Dan left the detective work to Lander.
It was his business now, not Dan's.
He walked back toward the office alone, hands in his pockets, threading through the maze of alleys that cut through lrose's lower slums. The streets here were chaos—with broken lights flickering, and rats scurrying through puddles that shimred with oil.
Without Rohja as a guide, he quickly realized he'd lost his way.
"Damn it, how can I get lost?" he complained.
Even his navigation app doesn't work in the slums.
He passed a row of abandoned buildings, their windows hollow and black. That was when the air split—
a flash of silver light streaked toward him.
Dan moved instinctively, twisting aside.
It was a weapon- a blade.
The blade missed his throat by inches, sparking against the wall beside him.
When he straightened, she was already there—
a woman in dark brown garb, her face half-hidden by a polished-steel mask. Her curved blade caught the broken streetlight and sent a thin line of reflected light dancing across the alley.
"You're quick," she said coolly. "No wonder they'd spend a million aur on your head."
Dan let a smirk pull at one corner of his mouth as he dusted an imaginary mote from his coat. "So… you're the killer from the Order of Black Cocks?"
"Black Cockerel," she corrected, her voice as sharp as the blade.
"It's the sa thing," Dan said, his grin widening.
He rembered the Six O'Clock Diner—Shawn Zetheris had put a bounty on him. One million aur. For weeks, nothing had moved.
He'd almost begun to think the hit was off.
But now the order had finally served.
"I knew your kind would show up eventually," Dan said, loosening his stance. "What took you so long?"
"For a while you were hiding well," she replied. "You made it difficult for us to track. But here you are—alone, wandering through the slums. A perfect opportunity to finish the contract."
Her blade shimred again—this ti it left a faint trail of ta-energy, like heat haze.
Dan's eyes flickered as Vision Connect activated.
"All right," he said quietly. "Let's see what a million aur buys these days."
Na: Rewind IX
Strength Rank: C ta Rank: E
Strength: 336 | Charm: 25 | ta: 96 | Command: 95
"Rewind IX, eh," Dan muttered.
"How do you know my alias?" Rewind asked, surprised and irritated.
She moved first—faster than common n, a blur of brown cloth and a curved blade. Her strength outclassed many, and even if her ta rank was only E, her strikes carried the weight of practiced power.
Dan dodged the first flash of steel by an inch.
Although she was stronger than him in Strength ta, he was imbued with blue blood; power and instincts the cursed vein supplied pulsed at the edges of his senses.
It wasn't raw power that kept him safe — it was the reflexes the blood sharpened.
"This could be the only ti I'm thankful for the cursed blood", he thought.
Rewind flashed again, with a staccato of strikes.
Her curved blade was signature and, at first glance, the sum of her tricks. Dan slipped between her attacks, his movents clean and efficient.
"How can you be so fast? You anticipated my every strike," she spit, anger making her words hard-edged.
"I trained with the best simulators," Dan said, his voice flat. "You're still too slow for ."
Fury flared across her hidden face. "If I don't show you my real skill, you won't die easily."
"Real skill? What is that?" Dan asked curiously.
She struck again. Dan evaded again.
In the sa breath, Rewind IX vanished—only to reappear where she had been a heartbeat before—and struck again.
This ti the blade found Dan's shoulder.
Pain flared, hot and imdiate.
"What the hell was that? How the hell did you hit ? I was certain I dodged that strike," Dan grunted, tasting blood at the corner of his mouth.
"They don't call Rewind for nothing," she said, her breath ragged with effort and triumph.
"I can rewind a move by a few seconds—return to a previous position to correct my course."
User Comments
0 comments from readers