Dawn began to break, slowly sweeping away the heavy darkness that had clung to the world throughout the night. Orange light timidly seeped through the thin fog and the remnants of time long abandoned. The morning air carried a biting chill, as if reluctant to let go of the night so easily.
Cassandra stood at the threshold of the old hut. Streaks of crimson still clung to her body, remnants of the life she had shredded and devoured the night before. Dried blood at the corners of her lips and on her arms had darkened, leaving traces of sin that shimmered faintly in the morning light.
She let out a quiet sigh. Then, with a single hand gesture, she whispered an incantation that sounded like the groan of a creature long dead. A subtle magic known only to a few, especially among the Predators. The energy slowly unfurled from her palm, surrounding her like a living mist... and then, it erased every trace.
The blood faded. The filth vanished. Even the thick scent of death evaporated into the cold air.
"Disgusting," she murmured coldly, nearly emotionless. As if the flesh and soul she'd consumed last night were nothing more than a routine unworthy of memory.
She lifted her gaze, watching the sun rise slowly beyond the distant hills. Its warmth didn't coax a smile from her. There was no awe, no hope. Only one thing burned in her eyes: direction.
She picked up her worn-out backpack lying beside the cold corpses. She looped the straps over her shoulders, lightly, yet with certainty. Her body remained upright, though weariness and hunger still lingered faintly in her veins.
Her steps echoed once more on the muddy ground.
Where was she headed?
Southwest, toward Germania, a nation larger and denser than the squalid city she had just left behind. Germania, the heart of trade and economic power, but beneath its grandeur lay even more secrets, more souls.
More food.
And perhaps… more Predators.
Cassandra didn't look back. That city was gone from her, not just physically, but existentially. She was no longer part of Ghereath. She had become something else. Something without a home, without a nation.
She had only one thing left: instinct. And hunger.
Cassandra continued her journey down the quiet road, beneath the touch of the newborn morning sun. The asphalt beneath her feet grew warm, and a gentle breeze drifted from the east, carrying the scent of wet earth and the remnants of a departed night.
She walked alone not hurried, but not idle either. Every step was steady, purposeful without doubt, without pause. Her cloak billowed gently, the dust at its edge ignored. Her golden eyes did not glance left or right; they stared straight ahead, piercing the horizon as if nothing could stop her.
Then, the sound of an engine broke the silence from afar. A police patrol vehicle approached slowly and came to a halt beside her. Two officers one man, one woman, stepped out with cautious yet courteous mannerisms.
"Hey, miss," the male officer greeted in a neutral but alert tone. "You're traveling alone? May I ask where you're headed?"
Cassandra turned slowly, her expression calm. Her smile was faint, and her voice soft, deliberately gentle, designed not to threaten.
"Yes… I'm heading to the city of Germania. There's an old place there… a piece of my past that hasn't been settled yet," she said lightly, as if confiding to the wind.
"I'll be staying there."
The female officer nodded. "We're just doing a routine check. There's been a spike in illegal travelers since the last crisis. May we see some identification or any relevant documents, if you have them?"
Cassandra nodded calmly and handed over a worn card from her backpack. While the male officer took notes, the female officer began a standard search.
But as she reached into the inner folds of Cassandra's cloak, her hand paused. Her fingers brushed against cold metal.
"A pistol?" she murmured, pulling it out slowly. "Why are you carrying this?"
Cassandra looked straight into her eyes. There was no tension only a cold, honest truth.
"I used to live in a small town on the edge of Ghereath. That place… was filled with crime, violence, and broad daylight murders. Carrying a weapon was just a way to survive. Not a threat. Just a basic human instinct."
Her tone was calm, but the way she spoke... like a soft bullet piercing reason. Something in Cassandra's gaze made the officer hesitate to press the matter any further.
A few seconds of silence passed. At last, the officer looked at her male partner, gave a small nod, and handed the weapon back.
"You may proceed, Miss Cassandra. But be careful. The world outside the city isn't quite like the one you came from."
Cassandra took her gun and slid it back with deliberate calm.
"The world outside may be softer... but it's no cleaner," she whispered inwardly.
Then, without another word, she began walking again, letting the police vehicle drive off behind her as the morning sun continued to rise, escorting her onward toward the next city. A city unaware that something was approaching. Something hungry, and not the kind that could be sated with peace alone.
Cassandra moved away from the checkpoint, the morning breeze sweeping through the folds of her light cloak. Her gaze stayed fixed forward, as if nothing behind her was worth turning back for. The sound of her boots softly striking asphalt merged with the quiet hum of a countryside just beginning to wake beneath the pale sunlight. She didn't look back, not even when a murmur of conversation stirred behind her.
Beside the patrol car, the two officers stood watching Cassandra's retreating figure.
"She doesn't walk like just anyone," the female officer murmured, still holding the portable ID scanner.
The male officer, tidying up his hastily written notes, reread the information he had copied from Cassandra's identification.
Name: Cassandra von Mallearch
Occupation: Independent or Private Detective
Age: 21
Height: 169 cm
License: Code AF – Issued by the Ghereath Homeland Security Committee
He shook his head slowly, letting out a tired breath. "Yeah... lucky she's not cartel. Maybe..." His voice trailed off, the end laced with subtle uncertainty. There was something about the way Cassandra spoke, too calm, too calculated. And her golden eyes… unwavering.
They kept watching until her silhouette was swallowed by the morning light and the long road stretching southwest. Without meaning to, they stood there in silence for quite some time, as if both instinctively understood they had just met someone far more complex than a simple freelance detective.
Cassandra continued along the dusty, quiet road, her golden eyes glancing down briefly at the old watch on her wrist. A fine crack ran across its surface, reflecting the sunlight in faint flickers.
"Half past six..." she murmured, her voice nearly stolen by the cold and silent breeze of morning.
Her pace remained steady not rushed, but purposeful. The road ahead was long and empty, yet she showed no hesitation. As if every step had already been measured, every stretch of path intimately known. The sunlight illuminated her face, revealing no trace of the dried blood now long cleansed by her spell leaving only a flawless surface, a face that betrayed nothing of the horror she had wrought the night before.
There was no weight on her shoulders. Only a small rucksack and footsteps leaving behind a story no one would ever tell.
Germania was still far to the southwest. But for Cassandra, each kilometer she walked was part of a quiet transformation, from soul hunter to an unnamed shadow that would haunt human history without ever being written down.
And once again, her golden eyes looked straight ahead. Steady. Unwavering.
Under the looming shadow of tall iron fences and layered guard posts, Cassandra finally arrived at the border of Germania. The nation's red-black flag fluttered weakly in the cold morning wind, which carried with it the metallic scent of iron. Lines of heavily armed soldiers stood watch, their gazes sharp, their steps disciplined. There was no welcome here, only vigilance.
"Stop. Show your identification," ordered one of the soldiers, his voice deep and direct.
Cassandra halted, slowly reached into her cloak pocket, and handed over her documents. The soldiers scanned them with a specialized device, their eyes never leaving her. A few exchanged hushed whispers as her name, Cassandra von Mallearch, flashed on the screen.
"Independent detective, huh?" asked a younger soldier, still radiating wariness despite his age.
"Yes. My work takes me places," Cassandra replied in a neutral yet soft tone, her words laced with a calm that subtly altered the air around her.
"Not many walk alone across a national zone. Especially young women," remarked the senior soldier, squinting at her. "You know, this is a route favored by smugglers and fleeing criminals."
"I'm no fugitive. Just someone who knows where she's going," she replied, offering a faint smile that curled at the edge of her lips.
After a few tense seconds, the younger soldier nodded as the AF-Code license from Ghereath checked out. "She's clear, sir. Officially registered and authorized by the security committee."
The senior soldier merely grunted and signaled for the barricade to be lifted. "Move along. But be careful in Germania, detective. This city's not as safe as it looks."
"Safe places rarely make for interesting stories," Cassandra whispered, stepping past the gates into the land of Germania.
The sky was beginning to warm. Ahead, the road stretched toward the nearest city, a city that would soon become the stage for the next chapter in the journey of a predator wearing a human face.
Cassandra's steps briefly faltered as her body brushed against a burly soldier exiting a guard post. His frame was solid, the scent of metal and battlefield sweat clinging to his heavy uniform.
"Watch yourself, miss," he said in a gravelly tone, his words edged with warning. His eyes narrowed. "If I were cartel, you'd be dead right now."
Cassandra met his gaze with a faint smile serene, gentle, but with a hollowness buried deep in her golden eyes. "Yes, sir. I'll be careful..." she replied softly, her voice cold as midnight shadow, wrapped in a veneer of enticing elegance.
The soldier gave a small nod, then walked on.
Once she was beyond military surveillance, and the sound of soldiers' boots had faded behind her, Cassandra deftly slipped a hand into the inner pocket of her coat. Her fingers drew out a small access card, embedded with a chip and marked with the insignia of Germania's military.
Her gaze fell on the card, eyes narrowing slightly, then she smiled. "With this... Oscar and Helena's barracks will open more easily," she murmured, tucking it back into her coat like a dagger hidden in silk.
Her steps resumed, cutting westward across Germania, toward a destination known only to her... and perhaps to something that stirred quietly within her soul.
"But not yet," she whispered, a promise delayed, but never forgotten.
She stopped at an old bus stop standing alone between unharvested wheat fields. The morning wind played with her long dark hair as her golden eyes stared down the seemingly endless stretch of asphalt. No cars passed. No voices came, only the whispers of nature and the ticking of the worn watch on her wrist.
Time crawled by an hour, perhaps more.
And finally, in the distance, a faded cream-colored bus emerged through the thin morning mist. It came to a slow halt before her, its brakes groaning softly, as though tired from a journey too long.
The bus doors opened, and a young conductor greeted her with a warm smile. "Welcome aboard, ma'am. Please take any available seat," he said politely, gesturing toward the row of empty benches.
Cassandra turned slowly, a faint smile spreading across her lips. "Thank you for the kind welcome," she replied softly. The smile looked friendly… too friendly, almost like a porcelain doll whose heart could never be read.
They exchanged smiles for a brief moment. But only Cassandra knew that behind her calm, golden eyes, her mind was constantly assessing, measuring, reading every slight movement of the conductor. Her old instincts as a Predator were still alive, still vigilant and watching.
But not today. Not for blood that carried no scent of threat. Cassandra had no interest in preying on the innocent. To her, time was far too valuable to waste on souls that didn't resist.
She chose a seat in the back row, leaning her body against the window, letting the bus roll gently toward the heart of Germania, a place where secrets of the past and blueprints of the future waited to be unraveled.
According to world history, Germania was one of the few nations that managed to maintain its neutrality during the Third World War two decades ago. While the great powers tore each other apart in ideological and resource-driven conflict, Germania chose to shut itself off, fortify its borders, and maintain internal stability with all its might.
But neutrality didn't come without cost. Its people had once suffered agonizing hunger, with cities gripped by fear of sudden attacks. Darkness had once shrouded Germania's great cities, with electricity running for only a few hours a day and food distribution nearly collapsing.
But twenty years had changed many things.
Now, Germania stood as a strong economic hub in the western continent. Its cities had been rebuilt with advanced technology, fused with a strict and disciplined social system. Their culture had evolved into something unique, a blend of militaristic precision and progressive values. They cherished stability and national identity above all else.
Security in Germania was intense, not out of paranoia, but born from lessons of the past. Immigrants, visitors, even native citizens were subject to regular inspections. Identity, licenses, medical history, even patterns of social behavior could be subject to scrutiny by their advanced security systems.
Cassandra, though devoid of a criminal record, lived on the edge of law and morality. Her identity was clean, backed by an official license from the Ghereath Security Committee. But in a world obsessed with order, she was still a figure too quiet… too unpredictable.
And Germania did not like things it could not predict.
But Cassandra knew that. She had calculated everything.
This journey was not merely physical, it was a step into the shadows of her past, rooted in this city of cameras and metal walls. A city that held pieces of who she once was… and perhaps, something that needed to be destroyed.
As the bus slowly entered Germania, the city pulsed with life and motion. Towering buildings with modern architecture stood proud, decorated with digital screens showing product advertisements and news flashes. The roads bustled with electric vehicles, people in formal attire, and street vendors setting up stalls at intersections. This was a city that never truly slept, always moving, always alert.
Cassandra got off near the old industrial district, a part of the city long forgotten, far from the economic buzz. Without glancing back, she walked briskly down a cracked sidewalk, eventually stepping into a narrow alley, silent and shaded. The air was a bit musty, and the scent of old metal greeted her steps.
At the end of the alley stood a weathered wooden door, its rusted nameplate nearly unreadable. A small sign above read CLOSED. Dust clung to the window glass, and cobwebs gathered in the corners of the frame. Cassandra stood before the door for a moment, staring with a blank expression that masked old memories.
"This place… is dusty," she muttered softly.
Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket and pulled out an old key, its color long faded. With one dry click, the door creaked open. The musty smell of a sealed space hit her, a mixture of old paper, damp wood, and a hint of rust from the metallic objects inside.
This was her detective office, the place that once served as her investigation hub, where she cracked case after case… and where she buried a part of who she was.
She hadn't set foot here in years.
Without a word, she began to move. Cassandra opened the windows, letting in the morning light and stirring the dust into the air. She rolled up her sleeves, picked up an old broom from the corner, and started cleaning. Shelves labeled CONFIDENTIAL, UNRESOLVED, and CLOSED still stood in place. On the edge of the desk, a reading lamp that once burned through long nights now looked like a fossil from a forgotten era.
Every step on the wooden floor echoed like footsteps from the past.
Cassandra wasn't just cleaning a room, she was cleansing herself of something.
"I'm back… not just as a detective," she whispered. "But as someone who will never lose again."