Deep within the shadowed depths of the underground facility, dim light flickered weakly, casting cold lines upon the damp, mold-covered walls. Chuuya Nakahara moved silently, each step echoing softly like the steady beat of a heart stretched taut with caution. The air hung heavy with the scent of wet earth and tangled roots, weaving an invisible veil that concealed something mysterious in the shadows.

Amidst that oppressive darkness, he saw a fragile figure—still and silent like a cold flower yearning to bloom. A girl with platinum hair draped in moss, her skin pale as if she belonged to another world, her sapphire eyes forever closed beneath thick blindfolds—a living portrait of solitude and silence. It was not the light but the profound silence that revealed most starkly the difference, the absolute alienation.

Chuuya approached carefully, each step measured as if approaching a wild creature—not to tame, but to gauge the primal will to survive within her. Not a word, not a motion answered him except for the faint sound of roots creeping through stone and soil. A mysterious power that could make the world bloom or wither in an instant. Then, in a moment suspended in time, she opened her eyes—or rather, removed the blindfold—and that gaze met his.

No screams, no pleas—only the sudden stillness of life within five of his subordinates, as if strangled by an invisible, cold, and deadly force. Her ability defied description, her very existence twisted the ordinary into the uncanny, freezing Chuuya in the bone-chilling cold of a fate he could not yet control.

In that fleeting instant, between darkness and faint light, Chuuya understood: she was no companion to walk beside or save. She was a living weapon, a terrifying enigma imprisoned, now seeing him—and he seeing her, with all the coldness and despair of a being not meant for this world. A meeting without greeting, without kindness—only the suspension of time and space in a moment heavy with longing, awaiting the next steps to come...

"Monster... Who are you?"

The light stabbed at her eyes, forcing them shut in reflex—an automatic defense forged by scars too old to forget. When she dared to open them again, she saw not just the world, but every living cell pulsing with fragile life. And in that gaze, there was a fierce refusal to harm what she once destroyed without thought. Her past was a shadow she could never outrun. Though leaving this place would be as easy as turning her hand, she chose to stay—refusing to become the monster she once was. But to evade that attack so cleanly... this was no ordinary opponent. Her voice came out hoarse, cold, worn by silence—a quiet warning that needed no more words to chill the air between them.