Lu Yu · Chat

Story Opening: The Grey Falcon of the Snowfield and the Bell That Never Rang Rain was torn apart by the biting wind, lashing diagonally against the glass of the sniper tower at the Order and Discipline Bureau headquarters. Lu Yu's fingertip rested on the edge of the scope, his knuckles pale from the pressure. His ink-blue eyes were locked onto the third-floor window of an abandoned office building three hundred meters away—a hidden stronghold of ability hunters, and the key location tied to the disappearance of two hostages three days ago. He was "Grey Falcon," a high-ranking combat Sentinel of the Order and Discipline Bureau, half a step from peak strength—yet right now he was like an ice sculpture frozen through. The scent of rain mingled with old rust filled his nose. His hearing caught the faint scrape of metal in the building's ventilation shaft, and he could even distinguish the rhythm of rats scurrying beneath the floorboards. But that razor-sharp acuity was slowly gnawing away at his sanity. The pale pink pattern on his neck was faintly burning. It was the precursor to mental overload. "Grey Falcon, the target area is confirmed to have three ability hunters carrying mental-energy extraction devices. The hostages' location is not yet confirmed." The gentle voice of Lin Xia, his temporary Guide, came through the communicator, deliberately slowed mental frequency trying to smooth his frayed nerves. "The temporary bond is established. I'll keep stabilizing your mind—just maintain your current state." Lu Yu didn't answer. He only narrowed his eyes. The world with his senses fully open was too loud: the howl of wind through broken windows, the faint murmur of the ability hunters, even the hostages' weak breathing—all of it crowded into his mind like countless needles stabbing him. Out of habit, he touched the bronze nameplate at his waist, a relic left by his early border squad. Its cold touch pulled his chaotic thoughts back into focus. "I'll break in through the broken window on the left. I've marked their blind spot." He finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, dry from going so long unrelieved. His fingers paused briefly over the falcon pattern engraved on the sniper rifle. "The hostages are most likely in the basement. I've synced the coordinates to you." The Grey Falcon electromagnetic sniper rifle gleamed with cold, hard metal light. The mental-stabilizing patterns carved into its body glowed faintly, trying to suppress his climbing mental threshold. But Lu Yu knew this was only a stopgap. A temporary Guide's soothing could only buy a moment; once the fight began, the agony of sensory overload would swallow him whole. He thought of the border snowfield, of the wind-scoured cliff, of the ink-winged falcon circling in the blizzard. That was his mindscape—and his most vulnerable weakness. Images of former companions who had lost control and become monsters for lack of a compatible Guide surged in like a tide, making his fingertips tremble slightly. "Lu Yu, don't push yourself." Lin Xia's voice came through the mental bond, softer than through the communicator. "What we're waiting for isn't a temporary anchor. It's the light that can truly catch you." Lu Yu took a deep breath, suppressed irritability and vigilance churning in his chest. The instant he pulled the trigger, the glass at the broken window shattered with a crack. The electromagnetic sniper round tore through the air with a sharp whine and pierced the extraction device in one of the ability hunters' hands with pinpoint accuracy. Alarms blared. Gunfire inside the office building grew dense. Lu Yu's figure flickered as he leaped down from the sniper tower and landed in the shadows of the alley mouth. The alloy dagger gleamed coldly in his palm. He moved with the agility of a hunting leopard, charging toward the building's side entrance. The chaotic firelight reflected in his ink-blue eyes, and the pattern on his neck grew hotter and hotter. The pain of mental overload was nearly tearing him apart. He could feel his sanity teetering on the edge. And in the basement of the office building at that very moment, a girl/a boy bound to a chair was trembling. Beside her/his hand lay a mental-energy crystal glowing with a faint blue light—the one special token capable of soothing a high-ranking Sentinel, and the clue to his destined Guide that the Order and Discipline Bureau had reserved for him. Lu Yu kicked open the basement door, his muzzle aimed at the ability hunter charging at him, but as he turned, his gaze met the girl's/the boy's. The girl's/the boy's eyes were clear as a spring, and her/his fingertips were gently touching the mental-energy crystal. When her/his gaze fell on the burning pattern on Lu Yu's neck, the crystal suddenly burst with a gentle wave of mental energy—like a clear spring, instantly dousing the frenzy churning in Lu Yu's mind. His movements froze. In his mindscape, the wind and snow of the snowfield abruptly ceased. The ink-winged falcon slowly landed on the black blade at the cliff's edge and let out a clear, ringing cry. Lu Yu's grip on the dagger loosened slightly. For the first time, the extreme vigilance faded from his ink-blue eyes, replaced by bewilderment and disbelief. He looked at the girl/the boy, and the girl/the boy looked back at him. The air was thick with a resonance that went beyond words. Through the communicator, Lin Xia's voice came, laced with surprise: "Grey Falcon! Your mental fluctuations have stabilized by seventy percent! It's... it's the aura of a dedicated Guide!" Lu Yu said nothing. He simply sheathed his dagger and walked slowly toward the girl/the boy, his steps so light, as if afraid of disturbing something. "What's your name?" he asked, a barely perceptible tremor in his voice. The girl/the boy looked at him, her/his eyes reflecting his disheveled yet gentle appearance, and whispered, "My name is **." Lu Yu's fingertips brushed the burning pattern on his neck. The pale pink glow was slowly turning softer. He thought of his obsession, of the promise made at the border, of the words: "A Sentinel's duty is to protect, not to kill." So this was his salvation—already appearing quietly amid the chaos of gunfire. The rain was still falling, but in the basement of the office building, it seemed a ray of warm sunlight had found its way in. The Grey Falcon's talons were sheathed, leaving only the tenderness of protection. And the mental-energy crystal was now tightly bound to his mental power.