The beast-drawn carriage rolled through the buzzing stone-paved streets of the Holy City of Biharaj. And within that carriage existed three distinct silences.
The first belonged to Jay, seated at the foremost bench.
He had only just regained consciousness—having passed out from sheer, paralyzing terror. Draped in Mr. Hank's tinted sunglasses, his expression remained concealed, as did the fatigue etched into his bones.
Upon his chest, the mark of the Awakened pulsed faintly. A symbol depicting a dying sun, falling from the grace it once reveled in—descending into the abyss that eagerly consumed it. In its place, a moon was born. Rising not toward the light, but ascending into the eternal void the sun had left behind.
Yet, the moon did not falter. It climbed still, knowing full well the fate that awaited it.
It glowed—weakly—emitting stolen sunlight.
Compared to the ferocious, radiant blaze of the once-living sun, the moon's light was meek. Its shine wavered. It could not banish the darkness that would one day devour it whole.
But still, it ascended—witnessed by the countless stars above. Stars that were once suns themselves.
Etched on either of Jay's shoulders was the symbol of a blue single ploddle flower—faint, fragile, and easily overlooked.
With these symbols burned into his being, Jay sat wordless.
Jin's crimson eyes remained fixed on him.
He sat to Jay's right, their seats connected. Like Jay, his modified gear—or rather, his uniform now—bore the symbol of a flower bud yet to bloom.
A sign that he too had returned from death, but had yet to ascend with the godlike powers of the Awakened.
His blood-red gaze did not waver as memories resurfaced—the moment his suspicion had been confirmed.
Jay possessed an innate ability.
At first, Jin couldn't believe it. That such a weak, trembling little wretch could harbor something so rare. So sacred.
And in that moment, he felt something stir in his hollow, withered heart.
If only he knew—it was the forgotten ghost of rage.
But not the kind born from envy. Not jealousy over Jay's potential, while his own had been stolen and stripped away. No—Jin did not possess enough of himself to feel such things.
The rage… was at what Jay was.
A mirror. A reflection. A cruel reminder of the boy Jin used to be.
Every glance at Jay dragged that memory up from the depths. The pathetic bastard he once was.
The coward who cried before his enemies.
The fool who offered kindness only to be chewed up and spat out.
The naive child who thought gentleness was strength.
The weakling who lost everything—even with the greatest power humanity had ever known.
His hidden heart cursed that Jin.
But he wasn't angry. He didn't even remember how to be angry.
So instead… he just stared.
With those cursed crimson eyes—eyes that had witnessed far too much and felt far too little.
And thus, he remained silent.
He was the master of the second silence.
---
Inside the carriage, two rows of seats lay facing each other.
The front-facing seat was the favored one. From there, you could peer out the wide glass window and watch the poor go about their mundane morning rituals—selling, shouting, surviving—without the nausea that came from the constant rocking of the carriage.
Then there was the backward-facing seat.
A cursed place. No one liked to sit there.
And unfortunately, that was where Luke—the senior of the two idiots—was seated.
But he didn't mind. He was that kind of man—refined, composed, with an air of nobility that felt misplaced in a world so unforgiving.
He quietly observed the silent war unfolding before him. A battle in which Jay was the unknowing recipient.
His eyes shifted to Jin—those crimson eyes, sharp and oppressive, brimming with silent authority. Then to Jay, whose emotions were sealed behind the dark veil of his sunglasses.
'Oh boy… what should I do?'
It was time for him to act.
He had made up his mind: he would interrupt Jin's stare before it carved its mark into Jay's psyche.
He had to play the role of the older brother—even if Jin was, in truth, the elder.
After all, Jin was staring at Jay like a beast atop the food chain eyeing prey too frail to even run.
And Jay… Jay didn't seem to notice.
'Why is his Battle Instinct so pathetic?'
Maybe it was better this way.
If Jay knew Jin was watching him like that, he would either panic… or worse—his eyes would gleam with excitement, flattered by the attention of the one he idolized.
'When the hell did he become Jin's fanboy?'
Luke sighed internally. Then it clicked.
It had started during their first conversation. When he had, without much thought, told Jay all about Jin.
To be fair, he couldn't blame the kid.
Even he admired Jin.
After all, Jin had saved him.
And not just once. Luke had witnessed the kind of power that defied logic. The kind of strength he himself had always longed to achieve.
The world needed idols.
More than anyone, the Awakened needed idols.
They needed something to believe in—an ever-burning source of light to follow, even as the darkness closed in on them from all sides.
Even if that light was false. Even if it was the very thing that would eventually lead them to ruin.
They needed their stars.
Something to look up to as they walked into the madness… and died as madmen.
So in the end, everything was as it should be.
And so, Luke remained silent.
He was the master of the third silence.
---
At that moment, the carriage came to a sudden halt.
The grotesque beast at the front reared its upper limbs, snarling, bloodstained fangs bared—fragments of its morning kill still lodged between them.
The coachman—hired by Mr. Nell after nearly an hour of bargaining—called out, finally disturbing the three silences that had grown thick and heavy like a fog.
"Alright, sirs. We've reached the distance."
The carriage stopped before a broad, grim structure of cold stone.
A rusted plaque swung above its entrance:
AWAKENED CITY PATROL – MILITARY POLICE
They had arrived.
And so began their first day at work…
***
Jin finally tore his gaze away from Jay as the four-wheeled carriage came to a rough, jarring halt.
The sudden lurch shook Jay awake. He stretched sluggishly, letting out one final yawn.
'He was sleeping…?!'
Luke blinked in disbelief.
Not just at the fact that Jay had been asleep the entire ride—but more so at the fact that he hadn't even sensed it.
As a level 8 Awakened, he should've been able to read someone's condition with a single glance. And yet, Jay had slipped under his radar completely.
'Maybe those sunglasses are enchanted… concealment-type.'
It made the most sense. And, to be honest, Luke never prided himself on having exceptional sensory abilities.
Jin was the first to exit the carriage. His hands clasped behind his back, he moved with calm authority, scanning the surroundings with his crimson eyes—sharp, precise, predatory.
Every corner was studied. Every shadow measured.
It was always wise to assess an unfamiliar place thoroughly—especially one that could become a battlefield at any moment.
Because who knows when enemies will strike?
Jin wasn't confident in Luke's ability to hold his own in a fight. And in his current state, he couldn't fight either.
So all he had left was preparation.
Jay followed closely behind, observing Jin's every move with keen interest. It didn't take long for him to decipher Jin's intentions.
'Impressive… he's preparing for a battle that might never even happen.'
And just like that, his admiration for Jin grew even deeper.
"Hey, hey—we're not here to fight!" Luke groaned, stepping between them with a frown.
They were standing at the entrance of the Awakened City Patrol Headquarters—the central police division for Awakened in Biharaj. It didn't take a genius to realize this was one of the most secure buildings in the entire city.
And yet, from the way they were acting, it was as if they were preparing to storm a gang hideout.
People had started to stare.
Luke sighed and grabbed them both by the arms, dragging them toward the reception counter.
As they stepped inside, Jay's usual shyness reemerged.
In front of him stood the Awakened Police—the true guardians of the city.
He'd admired them ever since childhood.
Becoming one of them had always been a dream. He'd devoured countless novels where the main character was an Awakened officer—a popular sub-genre in modern fantasy.
He admired their bravery… and of course, the part where they always ended up dating hot, sexy women.
Especially the infamous crime boss lady—cold, dangerous, voluptuous. The one with the huge breasts and the signature icy stare.
Jay had lost many nights of sleep over that particular archetype.
And now… here he was.
On a one-month apprenticeship.
He silently offered thanks to whichever higher-up had created this internship program.
Just then—thud—he bumped into someone.
Unfortunately, it was a man.
Not even a cute one like Albedo. No—this guy had a face that looked like it had been through a battlefield and lost.
He wore a dark blue uniform of the Awakened Police. A thick leather whip rested lazily at his hip.
The man's face was a canvas of scars. Especially one deep, jagged gash that began at the side of his scalp—where no hair grew—and sliced straight through his right eye, continuing down the length of his neck.
His one good eye was glaring directly at Jay.
And it wasn't a friendly stare.