It had been a month since Ellen left everyone behind.
In that ti, she'd beco a ghost with a na. A wanderer who left behind no footprints, but whose legend had begun to root itself in the whispers of New Eridu's underground and corporate threads alike.
She called herself Black Sun now. An alias born not from vanity, but necessity—for anonymity, for reputation, for the truth to be distorted just enough to keep people distant.
Ellen worked endlessly, rarely stopping to breathe.
She explored Hollow Zones on her own, finding lost scavengers and disoriented squads, dragging them back to safety without a word. Her face, when they glimpsed it through her mask, was blank. Emotionless. Only her efficiency spoke volus.
She hunted down gangs who used the chaos of the Ether tides to prey on the weak. One in particular—Mountain Lions—had beco her obsession. Their network was tight, fractured into well-guarded outposts scattered across the city. She'd found a handful, cleared them out, but the main nest remained elusive. Still, she pushed forward, night after night, alone.
On Inter-Knot, commissions ca in daily. The na Black Sun had a polarizing effect—so feared her, others admired her. Employers with shady motives learned quickly: if Ellen sniffed out corruption, she eliminated her target and the one who sent her. It made people cautious. But her flawless success rate kept the dennies flowing.
When she wasn't bleeding criminals dry or mapping Hollow Zones, Ellen blended into the rhythm of the city.
She worked as a maid in quiet, upper-class estates—an old habit she couldn't seem to shake.
She bartended in neon-drenched lounges, never smiling, never engaging beyond necessity. Her drinks were always perfect.
And sotis, she worked as a bodyguard for Astra Yao.
Dubbed 'The Queen' of New Eridu, Astra was a multitalented idol whose voice shaped the modern sound of the city. Free-spirited and magnetic, she had a habit of slipping away from her obligations to explore New Eridu on her own, incognito. It made the job more complicated than usual.
But Ellen didn't mind.
Astra talked enough for the both of them. Stories about her fans, her dreams, her frustrations with industry life. Ellen rarely replied, but Astra never seed to care—she always said she could tell Ellen was listening. And that was enough.
Evelyn Chevalier, Astra's manager, and longti friend, was professional and composed. She handled logistics, threats, and press appearances with precision. Her attitude toward Ellen was one of polite wariness. Ellen could feel it, the way Evelyn's gaze lingered a second too long, analyzing, judging. But Evelyn never interfered. She respected efficiency, and Ellen delivered.
Whether on rooftops or in Hollow Zones, in clubs or high-rises, Ellen remained the sa: silent, driven, empty.
The city had started calling her by na now.
Black Sun.
And even if she didn't care about the title, it suited her. A star that burned without warmth. A symbol of light that brought no comfort.
But above all—a constant, drifting shadow.
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Lumina Square buzzed with the usual rhythm of New Eridu—blaring cars, the echo of footsteps on neon-lit streets, and the soft hum of Inter-Knot broadcasts weaving through the air. But inside the stoic walls of the Public Security headquarters, a different kind of energy hung in the air.
Zhu Yuan sat at her desk, posture straight despite the fatigue etched into her sharp features. The room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from her monitor and the faint shimr of digital paper trails floating midair. In front of her sat a file she had gone over countless tis. Clipped to the corner of it was a grainy photo, taken in the middle of a thunderstorm.
The image showed a lone figure atop a ethereal dragon, rain cutting sharp lines through the darkness. The figure was blurred, a shadow more than a person—but the aura they carried was unmistakable. Power. Solitude. And sothing else Zhu Yuan couldn't put her finger on.
"Black Sun," she murmured, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"
Zhu Yuan was not easily shaken. As captain of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team, she had faced horrors that left others broken. She was a prodigy—a perfectionist with a pristine record and zero unresolved cases. Yet this vigilante, this ghost, had eluded her at every turn.
The dossier on her desk was thin. No na. No species match. Not even a consistent image beyond the ominous alias: Black Sun. They operated alone, yet sotis appeared alongside the fad idol Astra Yao. That detail made Zhu Yuan's shoulders tense. Not because she feared the celebrity was in danger, but because the web of connections made the case harder to untangle.
Black Sun's pattern was chaotic. One week, they were seen tearing down a gang outpost. The next, they were posing as a maid or a bartender. They took commissions through Inter-Knot—sotis low-level, sotis brutally dangerous. And always with the sa outco: completion.
But what disturbed Zhu Yuan wasn't the success rate. It was the thodology. Black Sun only accepted jobs that led to violence against targets deed morally corrupt. Criminals. Abusers. Black-market dealers. Corrupt officials. The vigilante was cleaning the streets—but by whose standard?
And yet, Zhu Yuan had to admit, her job had beco easier. The Mountain Lions gang had lost half its outposts. Human trafficking rings were going quiet. Arms dealers were abandoning their stashes and disappearing.
Still, Zhu Yuan didn't like mysteries. Especially ones that wore the guise of justice.
She leaned back in her chair, eyes lingering on the photo of the rain-slicked dragon. The storm behind it felt prophetic. Black Sun wasn't a hero. Not by official standards. Not by legal ones. But they weren't a villain either. Not yet.
And that terrified her more than anything.
Zhu Yuan closed the file and slid it into her encrypted drawer. She'd watch. Wait. Observe. She wouldn't risk direct investigation. Not without cause. Not with soone—or sothing—this unpredictable.
Because even the brightest suns cast the darkest shadows.
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The Outer Ring — a cracked, endless desert that stretched far beyond the skyline of New Eridu. Its dayti heat was brutal, the sun an oppressive weight pressing down on the land. Winds whipped up plus of dust, and far-off, twisted silhouettes of collapsed structures spoke of a world long buried by sand and ti.
A lone figure moved through the wasteland.
Ellen, known now by many aliases but whispered most commonly as "The Black Sun," pressed forward, her steps sure despite the unforgiving terrain. The harsh daylight blazed against her dark clothes and pale skin, yet she gave no outward sign of discomfort. She worked without rest — morning, noon, and night — an unbroken cycle of movent, missions, and rciless efficiency.
Today, her task led her toward a the barren wasteland of the Outer Ring towards a biker gang.
The Sons of Calydon.
A biker gang infamous across the Outer Ring, they held sway over several sectors, their rigs and bikes leaving trails like scars across the dunes. Ellen had accepted their request through Inter-Knot. The details had been intentionally vague — "Escort and muscle needed for a retrieval run" — but the hefty payout caught her eye, along with the gang's rising reputation.
Ahead, she spotted the eting point: a cluster of broken concrete and steel girders, the skeletal remains of an old highway overpass. Parked beneath the ruins were several motorcycles and a large, heavily modified rig nad Steeltusk, its sides covered in crude paint, its armor plates gleaming under the harsh light.
Waiting there were her clients.
—At the forefront stood Caesar King, unmistakable with her tomboyish posture and fiery presence. A spiked shield slung across her back, a sword lazily resting against her shoulder, and a broad, confident grin splitting her face. She looked like she was born under the open sky, ant to lead wild hearts.
Beside her was Burnice White, bouncing on the balls of her feet, dual flathrowers slung across her back and her energy infectiously high. Every now and then, she elbowed Lucy or waved animatedly at Piper Wheel, who lounged lazily near Steeltusk, hat pulled low over her eyes.
Lighter stood off to the side, arms crossed, green hair ruffled by the dry wind, eyes watching everything with silent calculation.
Three tiny boar Thirens — Grassy, Woody, and Bricky — squealed and scurried around Lucy's feet, kicking up dust as they played.
Ellen approached, her boots stirring sand with every step, her hood half-raised to shield against the light. She looked completely at ease, moving like a shadow born of the desert itself.
The chatter died down slightly as she drew closer. Even among hardened Outer Ring gangs, the Black Sun's reputation carried weight.
Caesar was the first to speak, grinning. "Well, I'll be damned. The Black Sun herself. Thought you were just a ghost story they told newbies who didn't pay up."
Ellen didn't answer imdiately. She simply looked at Caesar, her mismatched eyes — one pale blue, one violet — locking onto the gang leader's without hesitation.
"Job." Her voice was low, edged with that sa exhausted, emotionless undertone that had unsettled so many before.
Caesar snorted and threw an arm around Burnice, who yelped in mock protest. "Straight to the point, huh? I like that. Yeah, yeah, don't worry — you're not here for tea and scones."
She gestured to a battered map spread out on the hood of Steeltusk."We've got a supply cache out west. Raiders been sniffing around it. We need soone who can punch a hole if things get ssy. You're our nuclear option."
Burnice chid in excitedly, flathrowers practically rattling on her back. "We heard you don't leave loose ends! That's so cool! We can finally stomp those jackasses into the ground!"
Piper tipped her hat lazily without opening her eyes. "Just don't expect a thank you. Calydon runs on grit, not gratitude."
Lighter only gave a slight nod, a sign of respect among n and won of few words.
Ellen simply tilted her head, processing. A dangerous trek into the deeper Outer Ring. Possible heavy resistance. Likely ambushes. Supply caches often attracted desperate gangs, rogue soldiers, and worse.
All of it ant little to her.
"Understood." She said, stepping closer and studying the map with clinical efficiency. "When do we move?"
Caesar's grin widened as she slapped a hand on the hood. "Soon as you're ready, Black Sun. Hope you brought hell with you."
Ellen said nothing. She simply adjusted the strap of her scabbard, her coat fluttering slightly in the dry, dusty wind.
The desert wind howled around them, kicking up long trails of dust as the convoy thundered across the cracked earth. Bikes roared ahead and behind, engines growling like beasts hungry for the hunt.
Inside Steeltusk, the atmosphere was quieter, save for the deep rumble of the big rig's massive engine.
Ellen sat in the cramped passenger seat, her large fra awkwardly squeezed into the narrow space. Her long shark-like tail was carefully curled around her waist and legs to avoid brushing against Piper, who manned the wheel with casual expertise. The cab slled faintly of oil, leather, and the faint tallic tang of the desert itself.
Piper drove one-handed, her other lazily tapping the dashboard in rhythm with a tune only she could hear. Her laid-back air didn't quite hide the sharp awareness behind her half-lidded eyes.
For a while, neither spoke. Ellen didn't mind. Silence was her oldest companion.
Eventually, Piper broke it.
"Y'know," she began, voice easy and warm, "you're getting real famous for soone who popped up outta nowhere."
Ellen turned her head slightly, giving a small, almost imperceptible nod for Piper to continue.
"Word is," Piper said, maneuvering around a patch of broken asphalt, "you've been tearing down all the scumbags who thought they were untouchable. Helping the little guy. Smashing the big ones. Like so kinda avenger from the dirt."
She chuckled softly, a low, smoky sound. "Caesar was the one who pushed for hiring you. Thought you were 'cool as hell,' her words. Wanted an excuse to et the Black Sun herself."
Ellen blinked slowly, digesting the information.
Piper continued, voice a little more thoughtful now. "Lucy wasn't too happy about it, though. Said bringing you on might stir up more trouble than we can handle. She's got a good nose for danger, that girl. But... Caesar's stubborn as a sandstorm, and here we are."
The rig rocked slightly as they hit a dip in the road. Ellen adjusted her posture silently, her tail twitching once before settling again.
"?" Piper went on, shrugging, "I don't mind the help. Young bloods like you, always lookin' to carve your na into the world. It's admirable, really."
Her hand tightened briefly on the steering wheel.
"But..." she said, voice softening, "even the young and the fiery gotta know... sotis, it's okay to rest. To breathe. To enjoy life before it slips right through your fingers like desert sand."
The words hung heavily in the cabin. Ellen watched Piper out of the corner of her eye, the way her relaxed face tightened for just a heartbeat before easing again.
Piper glanced at her, then back at the road, her voice turning quiet, almost somber. "Even though we barely know each other, I can see it, y'know. That look you have. Soone who's seen the worst life can throw at 'em... and sohow keeps standing."
For a long mont, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional crack of dust against the windshield.
Finally, Ellen spoke. Her voice was low, raw with sothing deeper than weariness. "Thank you... I hope so, too."
Piper smiled gently, the kind of smile that carried no expectations, no pity — only quiet understanding.
"That's all any of us can hope for, kid," she said, letting the mont settle between them like soft dust on old bones.
And so they rode on through the barren wastelands, two strangers bound briefly by the unspoken weight of things too heavy to na.
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Hey y'all it's just making this Chapter to let y'all know this story wasn't abandoned. I should be back to making Chapters for this story in another week or so ti mid May. And I so of the dialogue is black because I kept getting lost on where the dialogue was so I made it black to help know where it was.
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