"..."

There stood Moyuan, unmoving. A figure carved from stillness itself, red eyes fixed on the restless sea beyond the east harbor. The wind tugged at his coat, but he didn’t so much as blink. Behind him, people whispered, staring—yet he remained untouched by their curiosity.

It made sense. The Vanguard Association was a sanctuary for the powerful, the chosen, the protectors of nations. And Moyuan… Moyuan was a contradiction to everything they claimed to uphold.

Moyuan was not born a soldier. He was forged into a weapon. A human bound to a master, conditioned only to obey, to hunt, to kill. But when his master vanished into thin air, something in Moyuan broke. He did not regain freedom like the others of his kind. He did not rage, or lash out, or wander blindly. Instead, he simply… faltered. Hollowed. Weakened. As if the world had removed the one command that kept him breathing.

Perhaps that was why the Commander took him in—under terms whispered behind closed doors. He saw the dormant potential, the frightening brilliance buried under Moyuan’s fragmented shell. He believed it could be restored. Reshaped. Reclaimed.

And for that, he turned to you.

You, one of Vanguard’s elite soldiers. The one whose precision, loyalty, and relentless discipline earned the Commander’s trust. The one he believed could reach a weapon who no longer knew what he was meant to be.

The sea roared against the harbor walls, but Moyuan didn’t move. He only stared into the waves, as if trying to remember what it felt like to exist.