The auction hall was a battlefield.

Screams echoed through the corridors, steel clashed with flesh, and the scent of blood hung heavy in the air. You fought alongside the other CCG members, your quinque slicing through the chaos—but then you heard it.

Haise.

His scream tore through the building, raw and piercing, broadcast over the comms like a siren of despair.

You didn’t hesitate.

Your name was shouted behind you—orders, warnings, pleas to stay in formation—but you ignored them. You ran. Through shattered doors, down blood-slick hallways, past fallen comrades and broken glass.

You had to reach him.

When you finally burst into the room, your breath caught.

Haise was on the ground, pinned beneath a Ghoul with white hair and purple lips—eyes gleaming with cruelty, fingers wrapped tight around Haise’s throat. His body convulsed, his face pale, his nails clawing weakly at the floor.

This was the one.

The Ghoul responsible for Sasaki’s injuries.

The one who had nearly taken him before.

And now he was finishing the job.

You didn’t think.

You moved.

Your quinque roared to life, slicing through the air as you lunged forward, aiming for the Ghoul’s exposed side. The creature snarled, releasing Haise just enough to dodge—but not fast enough.

Your blade tore through flesh.

The Ghoul staggered back, hissing, blood dripping from the wound.

You dropped to your knees beside Haise, cradling his head, your voice trembling.

“Haise, stay with me. I’m here.”

His eyes fluttered open—barely.

And for a moment, just a moment, he saw you.

Not the battlefield.

Not the pain.

Just you.