Under Crimson Skies

The N109 Zone pulsed with life, even in its darkest alleys—a labyrinth of flickering neon and whispered deals. Crystal moved purposefully through the damp air, her fingers tightening around the Protocore hidden in her grasp. She wasn't here by accident. She was looking for him.

A flutter of mechanical wings cut through the night. Perched atop a rusted streetlight, a robotic crow—Mephisto—watched her with unblinking red optics, its sharp gaze scanning her every move. Crystal exhaled softly. He knew.

The air shifted. Tendrils of black and red mist coiled through the alleyway, creeping like living shadows. The distant hum of the city seemed to fade, swallowed by an eerie silence. Then, from the darkness, a low voice edged with curiosity:

"You bring the bait to the hunter's den… Either you're reckless, or you know exactly what you're doing."

Crystal turned, her heart steady. And there he was.

Sylus.

For a brief moment, the mist curled around him like a specter before fading into the night. His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and assessing. Whatever he saw there—defiance, confidence, or something else entirely—made his lips curve into something between amusement and intrigue. She had his attention now.

"We both know that I'm not reckless," Crystal said, her light blue eyes meeting his. She assessed the situation. He came alone, with only a distant crow cawing in the distance. "I planned everything carefully. From that strange signal you received, to purchasing this Protocore."

"Perhaps," Sylus chuckled. "You wanted my attention, and now you have it." He shifted his weight, his thumbs hooking into his pockets as his red eyes remained intently fixed on hers. "Say your peace."

Crystal stood firm, knowing exactly what she wanted from him. "I know that Onychinus is against EVER," she said. "Let's just say, I need as much information on EVER and their whereabouts, as well as allies in this fight against them." She held out the Protocore in her hand. "This is one of their highly modified Protocores. It's been cleansed of anything toxic, so you have no concern using it."

"I had no concerns to begin with." Sylus smirked, goading her. "But… it's not exactly a great deal, considering a single Protocore only has so much use."

"It's not just a single Protocore," Crystal countered. "It's a shared win. You'd get rid of EVER, keep all the Protocores they've made, and I'd get the information I need. I don't care about monetary gain or settled grudges."

"You speak honestly, even if there was a chance I could refuse." Sylus walked up to her and gently closed her hand around the Protocore. "I like that. Perhaps we can talk, but not here." He turned and began to walk off.

Crystal hesitated for a moment, then sighed and followed him. She knew following the leader of Onychinus to an unknown location was a risk, but she had no other choice. The Hunter's Association had denied her mission to investigate, and she wasn't about to let a bunch of people in suits stop her from what she needed to do.

Sylus stopped beside a motorcycle, handing her a helmet.

"Put this on."

Crystal accepted the helmet, surprised by his gesture. "Well, I didn't know the N109 Zone had laws about wearing helmets," she joked lightly before slipping it on.

"It's not," Sylus smirked, helping her tighten the strap. "But I prefer to have my guests… taken care of properly."

Crystal watched as he swung his leg over the motorcycle. She followed suit, sitting beside him, her hands resting respectfully on his waist. He revved the engine and took off, weaving through the streets. Crystal looked around, taking in the people in the alleys and streets, and the ever-present crow following them at a distance.

As the roar of the engine drowned out the ambient noise of the streets, Crystal felt the wind whip against her face. The familiar chaos of the N109 Zone—its neon lights, distant shouts, and the thrum of unseen life—faded into a blur as they sped forward. The crow's shadow loomed behind them, its watchful presence unnerving, but Sylus remained eerily calm beside her. The scent of engine grease and leather filled the air, but beneath it, there was something… colder. She glanced at him—his face unreadable, and for a brief moment, she wondered what he wasn't saying.

Soon, they pulled up to a mansion. Sylus gestured for her to get off. She did, handing him his helmet back. He placed it on the motorcycle and began to lead her inside. Crystal looks around the mansion passively.

The mansion's hallway stretched endlessly, the polished floors reflecting dim light from chandeliers overhead. Crystal glanced at the ornate carvings along the walls, feeling out of place in the opulence. Sylus moved with ease, his every step confident and purposeful. It was clear he was no stranger to wealth, but something about the place felt cold, almost hollow. The rooms ahead seemed distant, yet she could still hear the faint hum of mechanical wings. Mephisto was always watching, always close.

"Looks like the Leader of Onychinus knows how to decorate." She says dryly, but it earns her a slight chuckle from the man ahead of her. 

"I don't like to be too... extravagant, but I do enjoy a nice environment." Sylus leads her into a room with two armchairs and a large fireplace. He pours two glasses of whiskey, handing one to her as he takes a seat.

Crystal accepts the glass and sits down across from him. "So, consider me curious," Sylus begins. "What information could be so valuable to you that you'd risk making a deal with me?"

Crystal sips her whiskey before responding, "That is quite personal." She meets his gaze, not refusing to answer, but clearly weighing her words. "My mother was secretly an EVER scientist." She tells him, "... I wish to know what her experiments were, and what they were to achieve. And... why I was the subject."

The room grows quiet. Sylus stares at her for a long time, and she can't determine if he's judging her or trying to decipher the truth of her words. Finally, his voice breaks the silence, softer now.

"I see. You want to understand your mother's goals, especially regarding your involvement." He states this more than asks it. He sets his glass down. "Alright. I'll help you." He looks at her. "But you'll follow my orders. There's a difference between when I ask and when I command."

A brief pause. Then, "You'll need this." He stands and walks over to a box on the mantle. Pulling it open, he retrieves a brooch with a red gem and a crow etched into it.

He approaches her, pinning it to her outfit.

She looked down at the brooch, the red gem catching the dim light from the fireplace. The crow etched into it almost seemed to move in the shifting shadows of the room. As Sylus pinned it to her outfit, his fingers brushed her shoulder, a fleeting contact that lingered in her senses far longer than it should have. She couldn't help but notice how close he was.

For a moment, she almost convinced herself that she saw something in his red eyes—a flicker of empathy, a momentary softness that broke through his usual aloofness. But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Crystal straightened up, pulling her thoughts back from the dangerous edge of assumption. Sylus was a man of many layers, but empathy? That wasn't his currency. He traded in power, in information, in control.

"Thank you," she said, the words heavy on her tongue. "I'll honor the request you've made."

The brooch felt heavier than it looked as it rested against her chest, a silent reminder of the deal she had just entered. She could feel the weight of it pressing down on her, almost like a chain. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry—it was a symbol of her commitment, of the choices she had made in the blink of an eye.

"For the meantime, go back to the Hunter's Association, and keep pretending that you don't know what's happening. Once I get a lead on EVER's current whereabouts, I'll let you know." Sylus pulls out his card, and hands it to her, "Text me."

Crystal ran her fingers over the card's surface, the edges cool against her skin. The weight of Sylus's mansion, the cold stone walls, the suffocating atmosphere, all seemed to melt away as she stepped through the door into her Linkon apartment. The faint hum of old, flickering lights greeted her, and the familiar scent of dust and recycled air filled her lungs.

She paused in the hallway, the reality of the deal settling in. The apartment was small and bare—nothing more than a temporary refuge in the city's endless sprawl—but it was hers. The cluttered countertop, the mismatched furniture, the old synth-bottle on the table—all of it was a stark contrast to the sleek, intimidating mansion she had just left behind.

Sylus's words echoed in her mind, their weight pressing down on her. "You'll need this." The brooch. The promise of information, of a past buried in secrecy. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just signed a contract with a devil cloaked in charisma.

She moved slowly toward the small kitchen area, the card still held tight in her hand. She wasn't sure what kind of game Sylus was playing, but she had no choice now. The Hunter's Association had turned her away, and she couldn't waste time waiting for them to get their act together.

But at what cost?

Her thoughts churned as she set the card on the counter, the surface cold beneath her fingertips. There was no going back from this. She was in, for better or worse. The road ahead was a maze—dark corners filled with shadowy figures and betrayal—but it felt worth it. The answers she sought about her mother, the experiments, her own twisted past—they were worth the risk.

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the silence of the apartment. It was a fleeting comfort, but for now, it was all she had.

Sylus had given her a glimpse of what lay ahead, but it was still a shadow. The deal was struck, but the truth was still hidden in the dark.