"Wha—what was that sound?" Exile asked.
Alvin exhaled, removing the earring from his left ear.
"Nothing," he said, his tone indifferent. "Just some fireworks."
As the earring left his skin, his snow-white hair darkened to black. The glow in his purple eyes faded, turning a calm, deep blue.
Exile scoffed. "Hah. What an ungrateful brat. You didn't even invite your teacher to watch."
Alvin drew his sword, its polished blade catching the morning light. "Just tell me why you called."
Exile chuckled. "Straight to business, huh? Well, your next mission's a big one—your first elite-rank assignment."
Alvin wiped his blade with a kerchief, unfazed. "I am Listening"
***
To most, today was just another ordinary day.
But for the Vaelcrest Estate, it was a festival.
Alice Vaelcrest, the first daughter of the family head, was returning home after two years.
The car door opened, and Alice stepped out.
Her dark green hair fluttered in the breeze. Unlike Alvida and Alvin, who had inherited their father's features, Alice bore the traits of their mother.
The maids lined up, bowing in unison. "Welcome home, Lady Alice."
She gave a slight nod, her gray eyes scanning the estate—searching, hoping to see a familiar cheerful boy.
'What am I expecting?' She shook her head and stepped inside.
Every step Alice took carried grace and pride. Even in stillness, the aura around her commanded attention.
A maid murmured, "The lady seems angry for some reason."
"I wonder… could it be because of the forgotten prince?" another whispered.
"Quiet, unless you want your heads to roll," a sharp voice cut through their conversation, silencing them instantly.
Inside the estate, Alice's gaze locked onto a familiar figure.
Alvida.
She sat on the sofa, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her black hair, her gaze lost beyond the window.
Hearing footsteps, her blue eyes shifted to the source.
The sisters stared at each other—silent, waiting.
"How long are you two going to stare at each other?"
A voice broke the tension.
Amanda entered the room.
"Mother," Alice greeted, while Alvida merely nodded.
Then— an awkward silence followed.
Sensing that their long-awaited reunion was heading in the wrong direction, Amanda spoke up.
"How was the Academy, dear?"
Alice replied with a simple, "It was fine."
Then, unable to hold back the question lingering in her mind, she asked—
"Have you found him?"
She didn't say a name, but Amanda knew exactly who she meant.
Alvida's dull eyes flickered with life.
Amanda took a moment to compose herself before answering.
"Alice… we need to move on. It's been three years since he vanished."
"Until now, we haven't found a single clue…" She exhaled sharply. "Except for his b-blood and… a piece of the cloak he wore that day on the battlefield."
Alice's gray eyes sharpened.
"That means nothing." Her voice was firm. "We don't know if he truly died, and—"
A deep voice cut her off.
"That's enough."
Erwin Vaelcrest, head of the house, stepped into the hall.
"It's been a while, Alice."
"Father," Alice greeted, her tone measured.
Erwin's gaze swept over her, cold and assessing.
"A Late-stage Expert, huh? I must say… I'm disappointed."
Alice remained silent, but her fingers curled slightly.
"Look at your sister." His voice carried a hint of disdain. "She's two years younger, yet she stands at the same rank as you."
"If you had focused on progressing your Sigil instead of chasing after some nobody…" He shook his head. "You might have reached the Specialist Rank by now."
Alice's fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palm. She had expected disappointment—but not this.
'A nobody? That's what he calls his own son now?'
She took a slow breath, forcing herself not to snap back. But the words burned.
For three years, she had chased rumors, followed the faintest trails—hoping, just hoping that he was alive.
And her father dismissed it all.
'Why did I even bother coming back to this cursed place?'
She unclenched her hands, her voice colder than before. "Understood, Father."
Late at night, beneath the silver glow of the moon.
Alvida wandered through the garden. The lingering echoes of the morning's drama played in her mind.
A small chuckle escaped her lips.
"Heh… ha-ha…"
She tried to suppress it, but the laughter only grew.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… hm."
She placed a hand on her chest, as if testing the sound.
"Was that… a laugh?"
Her voice was soft, almost curious.
"Humans are such fascinating creatures." She tilted her head, gazing at the sky. "And their greatest weakness… is emotion."
A pause.
"…I want to feel them too."
"But I can't."
Her words carried no sorrow, no regret—just a quiet realization.
"Then… does that make me a human without weakness?"
She stood still for a moment. Then, as if answering her own question, she whispered,
"No. It doesn't."
Amidst the moonlit rose garden, she moved as she danced.
At first glance, it seemed like a simple dance—fluid, graceful. But to a trained warrior, the truth was clear.
Every step, every motion—was a deadly battle art.
Alvida finally stopped, her movements coming to a halt.
Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees.
Her fingers brushed against her neck as she took sharp, shallow breaths.
After few minutes.
Her gaze lifted to the moon, silver light reflecting in her blue eyes.
"…Interesting." A slow smirk formed on her lips. "Someone's targeting me."
She tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her dull eyes.
"I wonder…"
"…Who might that be?"
She rose to her feet, dusting off her dress as she turned toward the estate.
With a final glance at the moon, she muttered under her breath,
"Wherever you are… I hope you're sleeping well, dear brother."
***
In the heart of Regalia City, atop a towering sixty-floor apartment, a figure stirred.
Alvin leaned against the glass wall, fingers tapping idly against the cold surface. His breath fogged against the glass as he gazed at the moon.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"Funny," he murmured. "For a moment, I almost forgot this body has a family."
His eyes flicked toward the bedside table.
An open mission file lay there, the name printed in bold letters.
Target: Alvida Vaelcrest.
His twin sister.
Alvin exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
'No… not my sister. His sister.'
That distinction had always been clear.
Still… would she recognize him? Would she care?
Would it even matter?
Probably not.
With a final glance at the moon, he turned away. His fingers hovered over the earring resting beside the mission file.
It wasn't guilt that settled in his chest—just something hollow. A sense of irony.
"Of all people..." he muttered, shaking his head.
Not that it mattered.
The past belonged to someone else.
And he had a mission to complete.