Rynn Yogini leaned back in the plush leather seat of the private jet, the hum of the engines a comforting backdrop to his favorite pylist. The sultry vocals of Pyfur Kati, his go-to music artist, filled the cabin, blending seamlessly with the low chatter between Mira Dusktail and B.M.A.. Mira’s fox-like ears flicked as she gestured animatedly about some over-the-top outfit idea, while B.M.A., her crimson eyes cold as ever, offered the occasional curt nod.
Rynn’s sapphire eyes, though half-lidded in apparent rexation, were ever watchful. His soot-bck curls rested against the headrest, and his sharp sheepkin ears twitched faintly at the faintest of sounds—a habit born of his natural vigince. His thoughts, however, weren’t entirely on the present. The memory of Aria’s transformation repyed in his mind, a symphony of dominance and control that brought a faint grin to his lips.
Then, without warning, a loud thump jolted the tranquil cabin. The sound reverberated from the roof of the jet, sharp and deliberate, like a hammer striking steel. Mira paused mid-sentence, her amber eyes narrowing. “What was that?”
Before anyone could answer, chaos erupted.
---
A gaping hole tore through the jet’s ceiling as an invisible force ripped into the cabin. The sudden breach triggered a violent suction, pulling loose papers and objects into the swirling night air. Mira’s luggage, dislodged from the overhead compartment, miraculously wedged itself into the hole, slowing the pressure leak. The cabin steadied, but only for a moment.
Rynn rose to his feet, his newly acquired midnight-bck uniform already showing the strain of battle. His sharp gaze darted through the dimly lit cabin, searching for the source of the disturbance. A faint shimmer caught his eye—a distortion in the air, subtle but unmistakable.
“Show yourself,” Rynn muttered, his voice low but commanding.
The intruder wasted no time. A blinding fsh of heat and force struck Rynn directly in the chest, leaving a burnt hole in his pristine coat. The impact was strong enough to stagger most warriors, but Rynn remained unbothered, brushing at the smoldering fabric with an air of annoyance.
“Seriously?” he drawled. “This was custom-made.”
Before he could act, the invisible attacker struck again. A bde—long, jagged, and unnaturally sharp—pierced Rynn’s chest, managing to puncture his otherwise impenetrable hide by a few centimeters. The force behind the strike caused the bde to elongate, shimmering as it extended into the cabin. With the attack, the assaint was revealed.
A metallic golem, humanoid in shape but far from human in design, stood before him. Its sleek, angur frame pulsed faintly with arcs of energy, its movements precise and calcuted.
---
Rynn’s sheepkin ears flicked in irritation as he assessed the golem. “You’ve got one shot to impress me,” he said, his voice dripping with mock boredom.
The golem lunged again, but this time, Rynn was ready. Channeling the power he had taken from his uncle, he activated his Thunder Body, the stolen ability surging through him in an electric storm. Bolts of energy crackled along his form, their sharp light casting shadows across the cabin. But Rynn wasn’t finished. Infusing his Scionic energy into the Thunder Body, he amplified its effect, giving it a life-draining edge.
The golem faltered as the energy seared through its metallic frame. Its once-smooth movements became jerky, its limbs struggling to maintain bance. Finally, it crumpled, its outer shell melting under the force of Rynn’s combined power. Exposed at its center was its core, a glowing orb pulsing faintly with stored energy.
Rynn didn’t hesitate. He reached out and crushed the core with his bare hand, the energy dissipating in a burst of light as the golem fell silent.
---
As the dust settled, B.M.A. stepped forward, her crimson eyes narrowing as she surveyed the wreckage. “This was only the beginning,” she said, her voice cold and steady. “Because of my failure, they’ll send more. They’ll keep coming.”
Rynn’s smirk faltered slightly, his sapphire eyes narrowing. B.M.A. wasn’t wrong. These assassins weren’t from his future—they hailed from a parallel version of it, one that couldn’t be erased by simply stopping its creation in the present. For the first time in a long while, irritation flickered across Rynn’s otherwise composed features.
“Annoying,” he muttered, running a hand through his tousled curls.
---
The jet finally nded at the Ebonvale airstrip, the clock striking nine as the trio stepped onto the tarmac. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of city life. Mira stretched her arms above her head, her auburn fur catching the moonlight. “That was a ride,” she said brightly, despite the chaos they had just endured.
As they headed toward the waiting car, Mira turned to Rynn. “Hey, can I sleep over at your pce tonight?”
Rynn raised a brow, his smirk returning as he tilted his head toward her. “Bold of you,” he remarked, amusement cing his tone.
Mira grinned, unbothered. “I’ll ask my dad.”
True to form, Kale Dusktail, head of the Syndicate Guild, gave his blessing without hesitation. Rynn, however, wasn’t entirely sure he could trust himself to spend the night with Mira under the same roof. His sapphire gaze flicked toward B.M.A., and an idea formed.
He snapped his fingers, the sound sharp and deliberate. “Fine,” he said. “But only if you sleep with B.M.A. Help her adjust.”
Mira pouted briefly before nodding. “Deal.”
---
By the time Rynn arrived home, it was past ten. The familiar grandeur of the Yogini family mansion greeted him, its tall windows glowing faintly with warm light. Rynn headed straight for the bathroom, peeling off his ruined uniform as he stepped into the cascading water of the shower. The hour-long ritual was as much about cleansing his body as it was about clearing his mind.
When he finally emerged, cd in a sleek night robe, the weight of the day began to fade. He allowed himself the rare luxury of an untroubled sigh as he climbed into bed, his curls still damp, his thoughts already drifting toward sleep.
But even as the world faded to bc
k, one thought lingered.
“They’ll keep coming. Let them.”
---
