Dusk.
The setting sun dyed the Victorian skyline into a canvas of interwoven orange-red and deep purple.
Looking down from a height upon this city of steel and roses, one would see a peculiar sight—
On the main thoroughfare of the comrcial street, crowds were fleeing in all directions. The smoke and dust from the explosion had not yet fully dissipated, hanging at the end of the street like a grayish-black mushroom cloud. Gendars and police were attempting to maintain order, their whistles and shouts drowned out by screams.
A steam bus sat stalled in the middle of the road, passengers scrambling to jump off. A horse-drawn carriage had veered out of control onto the sidewalk, overturning a roadside fruit stand, sending apples and oranges rolling everywhere. Gas streetlights had been knocked askew in the chaos, flas licking the cast-iron fras with a hissing sound.
This was the surface.
And beneath the surface.
In those narrow back alleys, in the shadows obscured by the prosperity of the main thoroughfare, another chase was unfolding.
An old drainage ditch extended from a basent on the comrcial street, leading to a shantytown. At the end of the shantytown was an abandoned laundry, and behind the laundry was a dead-end alley filled with trash. Beyond the low wall of the dead end lay an even narrower alley—
Two figures were sprinting through this alley.
A man and a woman.
The woman ran in front, small in stature and agile in movent, like a startled wild cat.
The man followed behind, clutching a tal box in his arms, his steps stumbling and his breath heavy.
And behind them—
About dozens of ters away—
A silver afterimage was approaching at an incredible speed.
It was a young girl wearing a noble dress.
Her skirt fluttered as she ran, like a flower blooming in the wind.
Her short silver hair was tinted with a faint golden-red by the setting sun.
Her speed—
Was unlike a human's.
She didn't pause for a mont when vaulting over the low wall.
She made no sound as she moved through the trash heaps.
She was like a cheetah, leisurely pursuing her prey.
Neither hurried nor impatient.
Because she knew—
The prey could not escape.
...
Elena's heart was filled with bitter regret at this mont.
She ran desperately, constantly releasing her ability.
Make us unimportant.
Let her gaze slide past us.
Make her feel that chasing us is a waste of ti—
But it was useless.
That feeling of being watched never disappeared.
Not only did it not fade, it grew increasingly intense.
She was twenty-three years old and had a modest reputation in certain Victorian circles—"The Person in the Mist."
This reputation stemd from a special ability of hers: she could make others "overlook" certain things.
Not invisibility.
Not vanishing.
Just... making things seem unimportant.
Like how your gaze automatically slides past a beggar on a street corner.
Like how your brain automatically filters out the sound of a neighbor's dog barking.
She could create this feeling of "unimportance."
Making people overlook a person.
Making people overlook a matter.
Making people overlook a door that should have been locked.
Where did this ability co from?
She didn't know.
One night about five years ago, she had a strange dream.
In the dream, there was a giant moon, its light pouring down like water, subrging her body. She felt herself dissolving, dissipating, becoming a part of the moonlight—
Then she woke up.
After waking, she found she could do things she couldn't do before.
For instance, making people's gazes slide past her.
Or seeing... blurry things on the night of a full moon. Other people's emotions, their fears, the deepest secrets hidden in their hearts—they would turn into a faint mist, lingering around them.
She didn't know what it was.
She only knew it was useful.
In the Victorian underworld, soone who could make others "overlook" certain things was always popular.
She had taken on all sorts of commissions.
Helping smugglers make customs officials "overlook" their cargo.
Helping adulterous noblewon make servants "overlook" their movents.
Helping—
Forget it, it doesn't matter.
What mattered was that she had never taken a commission related to "those people."
"Those people"—
Many rumors about "those people" circulated in the streets.
It was said that so people were born different from ordinary folk.
It was said that so could see the future in their dreams.
It was said that so could light candles with a glance.
It was said that so could hear the whispers of the dead.
It was said...
There were many "it was saids."
Elena had always thought most of those rumors were nonsense.
Aside from herself, she had never seen a truly "different" person.
She thought she was just an exception.
A lucky, or perhaps unlucky, one.
Exception.
Until today.
The mont that girl appeared, Elena knew sothing was wrong.
Her intuition was screaming.
That feeling—
Like being in a dark forest and suddenly realizing sothing is watching you.
Like suddenly slling blood in a late-night alley.
Like suddenly seeing a massive shadow beneath the surface of a calm lake.
Danger.
Lethal danger.
This was what her ability told her.
That girl—
That seemingly frail girl dressed in a noble miss gown—
Was a monster.
Elena didn't know how to describe the feeling.
She just "known."
Just as she knew her ability would strengthen on the night of a full moon.
Just as she knew so people hid secrets that could never see the light of day.
It was an intuition that transcended reason.
And that intuition was frantically telling her now:
Run.
Run.
Run fast.
If you don't run now, you're dead!
...
"Damn it, you useless piece of trash!"
Klaus's curses drifted from behind as they ran.
Elena nearly choked on her own spit.
"What?!"
"I said you're useless!" Klaus shouted back while running, clutching the tal box. "I spent a hundred shillings to hire you, and this is the performance I get?!"
"You—"
Elena trembled with rage.
A hundred shillings.
A hundred shillings!
For those hundred shillings, she had nearly been torn to shreds on the spot by that monster, and now this idiot dared to curse her for not putting in effort?!
"Do you have any idea what that was just now?!" she roared in a low voice.
"I don't care what she is—"
"That was a monster!" Elena interrupted. "Didn't you see how she took those people down?! That's not sothing a human can do!"
"Now, we're going to the police station!"
"Wha—" Klaus nearly tripped. "Are you crazy?!"
"To the police station!" Elena shouted again. "Turn left ahead, the Seventh Precinct is two hundred ters away!"
"You want us to walk right into their trap?!"
"You idiot!" Elena roared. "Being thrown in jail is better than being hacked into minceat on the spot by that monster!"
Klaus froze.
He glanced back.
In the afterglow of the setting sun, that figure was approaching at an alarming speed.
Fifteen ters.
Twelve ters.
Ten ters—
"Fuck..."
Klaus also began to burst with unprecedented speed, instantly overtaking Elena and charging toward the street corner ahead.
...
The Seventh Police Precinct was right before them.
It was a three-story masonry building with the Imperial Police emblem hanging at the door; two gas lamps cast a dim yellow light in the dusk.
Several police officers were on duty at the entrance. Seeing two people sprinting toward them, they all assud wary expressions.
"Help—"
Elena shouted with the last of her strength.
"Soone is trying to kill—"
Before she could finish her sentence.
From behind, a faint sound of wind reached her.
That was—
The sound of sothing slicing through the air.
Sothing was flying toward her at extre speed.
Aiming straight for the center of her back.
Elena's pupils contracted sharply.
No ti to dodge.
She knew it was too late.
Is this the end?
To be killed by so inexplicable monster at the doorstep of a police station?
How...
She closed her eyes.
Waiting for the fatal blow.
Clang!
The sound of tal clashing.
The pain didn't co.
Elena snapped her eyes open.
She saw a saber.
A pitch-black blade with a sharp edge was currently held across her back, and a silver dagger was embedded in the ground.
The one wielding the blade was a woman.
She wore a deep blue Imperial military uniform, with gold patterns on her epaulettes that Elena didn't recognize.
Her hair was dark brown, shimring with a faint red light in the setting sun.
Her eyes—
Elena saw only a pair of eyes.
They were dark green eyes, as deep as an ancient well.
At the mont, those eyes held a hint of interest as they looked toward the direction behind them.
Elena followed her gaze.
In the sunset, a figure stood there.
Short silver hair.
A soiled dress.
And—
A pair of crimson eyes.
The girl stood ten paces away, as still as a statue.
The setting sun burned behind her, outlining her silhouette into a pitch-black shadow.
Like a demon walking out of hell.
"Oh?"
From behind, the woman who ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) had saved her spoke softly.
Her voice was low and leisurely, carrying a hint of... pleasant surprise?
"Interesting."
Elena didn't know who this woman was.
But at this mont, she knew only one thing—
She had... survived, for now.
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