(FLASHBACK)
The smell of citrus filled the air as sunlight spilled through the window, warming the cozy kitchen where laughter danced like fall leaves caught in a gentle breeze. Young Dax, only eight years old, sat at a wooden table, drawing carefully in a book filled with fantasy animals. Each colorful crayon stroke came to life under the watchful eye of his mother, who moved smoothly around the room, her long dark hair flowing as she hummed a soft tune.
His mother had a bright smile, one that lit up the kitchen and filled Dax's heart with love. Family pictures covered the walls, each catching bits of bliss, Dax's first birthday, their summer trips, and cozy nights spent together. The cheerful mood melted away the ghosts that waited outside, far from the safety of their home.
"Look at this one, Mom!" Dax cried, holding up a picture of a dragon that spread across the paper, its scales drawn in bright green and gold. His mother leaned over, her eyes sparkling with joy. "That's beautiful, sweetheart. I can see you're going to be an amazing artist one day."
Beneath the warmth of those words, a chill passed through Dax as his mother's smile faded, a flicker of fear darkening her features. "But remember, Dax," she warned gently, kneeling before him, "the nights have eyes. Stay close to me, always."
His naive laughter bubbled forth, pushing the darkness away. "What's there to be afraid of, Mom? We're safe here." But even as he spoke, he felt the fear coiling in her heart, her silent memories that haunted the corners of his youth.
But just as he laughed at a silly picture he had drawn, the happy mood collapsed in an instant. A loud, ominous knock rang against the door, sending a jolt of ice through the warmth of their family shelter.
Dax's laughter froze in his throat, and his small fingers stopped, crayon floating above the paper. His mother's smile became a mask of worry, her bright eyes widening with silent fear.
"Mom?" he asked, the tremor in his voice showing his youth. "What's happening?"
"Stay close, Dax." Her voice dropped to a whisper, heavy with an intensity that stilled the air around them. Their eyes locked, a weak, quiet exchange of fear and understanding passing between them.
Footsteps thudded on the wooden porch, heavy and deliberate, each step ringing with a dark intent that sent icy fingers up Dax's spine. It felt like time stopped, the calm before the storm. "Stay behind me," she directed quietly, her stance changing from caring to protective, a buffer between him and the unknown.
The door quaked under a strong hit, sending splinters flying as it cracked open. Dax's heart thundered in his chest, instinct telling him to run, to hide behind the couch or beneath the table. Yet his mother stayed rooted, a rock of strength amid the chaos encroaching on their lives.
As the opening became filled with shadows, Dax protected his eyes and caught a peek of the figure that stepped inside, a twisted mirror of a nightmare, its eyes like cold rocks reflecting hunger and malice.
"Get away from him!" his mother screamed. It was a sound born of pure fear, echoing deep within Dax's soul, causing a spark of terror.
The world burst around Dax as the Noctra stormed into their lives. Time curved and curled like a coiling snake, dragging uncomfortably as his mother's fierce screams cut through the air. In that moment, Dax was pulled from the safety of his youth into a terrifying world.
"Run, Dax! Go!" Her voice clawed through his thoughts. The urgency dripped from her words, mixed with the sickening sounds of the invader.
He was filled with fear as he turned, his instincts competing between staying and going. The hallway stretched like a chasm ahead of him, safe but too far. Dax ran toward it just as the Noctra lunged for his mother, its claws cutting through the air with deadly precision.
The thing towered over his mother, its sinewy body twisted and hideous, radiating a frightening presence. The first clear look at the Noctra shook Dax to his core; its elongated teeth glistened like knives, its skin trembling with dark scales.
"Mom!" he yelled, but the sound barely left his throat; it was lost in the fight. His heart raced, filling him with fear as its growl mixed with his mother's cries, the two sounds combining in an evil symphony.
Dax bolted down the hallway, but guilt threatened to choke him. He should help. The pause before he bolted caused doubt; the last picture seared into his mind was of his mother, her face a strong mix of fierce determination and heart-wrenching fear.
Time slowed as Dax huddled in a small nook, tears running down his face. The truth of what had happened played out in his mind like a horror picture, each frame a memory of his worst fear.
The cozy warmth of their home changed into a hollow shell, shadows hiding in every room that seemed to echo with loss. The happy laughter that used to fill the air was replaced with an oppressive quiet; the truth of evil stood immovable, taking away the bright light of his youth.
Dax's voice cracked as he whispered, "Mom?" The sound was soft, nearly muffled by the echo of confused thoughts. Desperation clawed at his chest, filling him with a sadness he couldn't understand. Hadn't she told him to protect her? What good had it done him?
A raw rage started deep within him, driven by the despair he felt. He would never allow the Noctra to get away free. They had stolen his mother; that was a crime that could not stand.
"I will find you…" he whispered madly into the empty space, his voice shaking but determined. The shadows around him felt teasing and cruel, twisting as he vowed to remember her, to seek payback where he could.
Present time
As an adult, standing in the alley, I was haunted by the memories of that night. My grip clenched around the hilt of my blade, the moonlight shining off the metal. The smell of citrus from those days long past stayed slightly in the air, ghosts of forgotten sweetness that now felt like a cruel joke.
Determination rushed through me, mixed with the fear that had once haunted me. The shadows were alive with Noctras, and every moment was another step closer to facing my tormentors, people who had taken away my mother's light.
In these parts of the city, where darkness stuck like wetness to every surface, I was driven by anger and sadness. Each Noctra I faced, I reminded myself of that lost joy, that laughter that had once filled my home and my heart.
But then, from the edge of my thoughts, a familiar voice broke through. "Dax?" Zephara called, her words pulling me from the deep of thought. I turned, and there she was, standing under the cream-hued glow of a streetlight, worry written across her features. "What's happening? Are you okay?"
Her appearance was exciting and confusing all at once. "I will handle this," I answered brusquely, pushing my feelings to stay in check. Our fates were linked now, dragged into this nightmare together.
But deep down, I knew this was merely the beginning. The evil that had seeped into my past would loom overhead as I faced the Noctra again, this time not just for myself but as a pair, navigating the way forward alongside her.