Broken Oaths, Burning World

Moreover, nestled at the edge of the crumbling Silentedge District, Silentedge Orphanage is a hauntingly paradoxical structures and it had been abandoned due to the case of the orphanage that the government shut down. Once a beacon of hope and sanctuary for the city's abandoned and orphaned children, it has now fallen into disrepair, shadowed by the district's reputation for neglect and crime. Despite its deteriorating state, the orphanage remains operational, a testament to the resilience of its caretakers and the vulnerability of its residents.

Agent-90, standing in front of the building fixing his glasses reflects his deadly blue eyes. The Silentedge Orphanage spans approximately 22,000 square feet, sitting on a plot of land surrounded by a rusted iron fence. The four-story structure rises about 55 feet tall, its dark gray concrete exterior weathered by decades of neglect and pollution. Faded murals of cheerful children playing—painted long ago by an optimistic community—are barely visible beneath layers of grime and graffiti. To him it gives a sense of reminder of the past in which cannot relate.

He contacts Madam Di-Xian, whereas she can see through his spectacle which works as the camera and tells him to be aware. He nods and walks in to the main entrance. A large double door made of heavy steel, reinforced to keep intruders out, but marked with dents and scratches from past attempts to break in. The doorway is crowned by a fading sign that reads, "Home for the Lost," its letters chipped and worn.

Narrow, rectangular windows dot the facade, many of them covered with metal grates for security. Some are broken, patched up with plastic sheets or plywood.

The orphanage grounds feature a neglected playground with rusting swings and a broken slide, a small overgrown garden that hints at past efforts to bring life to the space, and a cracked cement courtyard often used by the children to play.

 The interior and atmosphere reflects the dichotomy of its purpose and its reality: a place meant to nurture but now struggling against the weight of its environment.

At the ground floor, first is the reception area. Upon entering, visitors are greeted by a dimly lit reception area with peeling wallpaper and scuffed tiles. A small wooden desk, manned by an overworked caretaker, sits beneath a flickering fluorescent light. A faded bulletin board displays outdated notices and handwritten rules for the children.

 Adjacent to the reception is the dining hall, a large room with long wooden tables and mismatched chairs. The tables bear the marks of years of use—scratches, carvings, and faded stains. The overhead lighting is sparse, casting uneven shadows that make the room feel colder than it is.

The kitchen is a cramped space equipped with outdated appliances, many of which are barely functional. The staff relies on donations to provide meals, often creating simple dishes from whatever supplies they can gather.

He steps slowly, on the concrete staircase as he steps one by one it makes a cranky sound louder and louder; he comes at the first and second floors which contain dormitories and bathrooms. 

These floors house the children's sleeping quarters. Each room accommodates six to eight children, with bunk beds squeezed tightly together. The beds are made with mismatched blankets, many of them patched and threadbare. Personal belongings—stuffed animals, worn books, and handmade drawings—decorate the space, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise stark rooms.

Shared bathrooms are located at the end of each hallway, with cracked mirrors and leaky faucets. The tiled floors are often cold, and the lighting is dim, but they are kept as clean as possible by the staff.

At the third floor, in the learning center, once a fully functional classroom, the learning center now consists of a few desks, a chalkboard, and a single tablet computer donated by a benefactor. The children gather here to study under the guidance of volunteers or older orphans who have taken on a mentorship role. The walls are adorned with faded educational posters and a map of Nin-Ran-Gi, torn at the edges.

The orphanage director's office is a small, cluttered room filled with stacks of paperwork, a rickety desk, and an old chair. The director often doubles as a counselor for the children, listening to their stories and offering what comfort they can.

The top floor is used primarily for storage, holding donated clothes, toys, and supplies. The area is poorly lit and dusty, with cobwebs clinging to the corners. It also serves as a quiet retreat for children seeking solitude.

Finally, he came across a small room with a wide window overlooking the courtyard and it was a little dark. Once used for supervision, it is now an informal gathering place for the older orphans to discuss their dreams and fears, far from the younger children.

Agent-90 stepped cautiously through the dimly lit corridor, his sharp ears catching the muffled sound of movement ahead. His eyes narrowed as he followed the noise, the faint crackling of his earpiece carrying Madam Di-Xian's voice.

"Be careful, 90," she warned. "The one ahead of you is Kim Gun-Sujin, an SSR-Rank Sinner. Don't underestimate him."

Before Agent-90 could respond, a shadow emerged from the gloom. A tall man in a tailored gentleman's suit stood in the middle of the corridor, casually taking a drag from his cigarette. His eyes—black sclera with inverted white irises—glowed faintly in the dim light.

"It's been a while, Agent-90," Gun-Sujin said, exhaling a stream of smoke. His voice was calm but carried a dangerous edge.

Agent-90's hand instinctively brushed against the concealed blade at his side, but before he could draw it, Gun-Sujin launched forward like a bullet.

A savage kick collided with Agent-90's chest, sending him hurtling into the wall with enough force to crack the concrete. Gun-Sujin followed up with a flurry of strikes, each one precise and punishing, as he grabbed Agent-90 by the collar and flung him across the corridor like a ragdoll.

"You're standing on the line, 90," Gun-Sujin said coldly, adjusting his tie as if the battle hadn't fazed him. "The task is ours. Stay out of it."

Agent-90 grunted, coughing as he pushed himself back to his feet. His glasses were askew, and with a calm flick of his wrist, he adjusted them back into place. "You're underestimating me, Gun."

Agent-90 surged forward, his fist cutting through the air. Gun-Sujin sidestepped effortlessly, raising his arm to block the blow. The two clashed in a blur of strikes, each countering the other with inhuman precision. Gun-Sujin smirked as he parried a sharp elbow strike and grabbed Agent-90 by the throat.

"You're stubborn, I'll give you that," Gun-Sujin said, tightening his grip. "But it's better for you to stay away."

Agent-90 gasped for air, his vision dimming. Suddenly, smoke began to rise from his body, and a low, guttural growl escaped his lips. Gun-Sujin recoiled as a searing heat burned his hand, forcing him to let go.

"What the—?" Gun-Sujin muttered, staring at the faint wisps of smoke curling from Agent-90's mouth.

Agent-90's eyes shifted, turning into Reverse Eyes. His aura shifted, becoming darker and more menacing. He surged forward with renewed ferocity, his movements fluid yet brutal. A sharp knee strike hit Gun-Sujin's ribs, followed by a spinning kick that sent him crashing through the corridor's wall.

Gun-Sujin growled, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth. "So, you're not holding back now?"

Agent-90 didn't reply. He was already upon him, his strikes relentless. Gun-Sujin barely managed to block, his suit tearing as Agent-90's blows came with increasing force. The two combatants tumbled through walls and ceilings, their battle carving a path of destruction through the building.

With a final clash, the floor beneath them gave way, and both plummeted through multiple levels, debris raining around them. They landed heavily on the ground floor, creating a massive crater in the concrete. Dust and rubble settled as Agent-90 staggered to his feet, his breath ragged.

He looked down to see Gun-Sujin lying motionless among the rubble. Glancing upward, Agent-90 noticed the jagged hole they had created, spanning several floors.

Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, Agent-90 adjusted his glasses and muttered, "Next time, stay out of my way."

Turning away, he activated his earpiece. "Madam Di-Xian, the target has been neutralized. I'll await further instructions."

Meanwhile, The pale glow of the early morning sun streamed through the blinds of Wen-Li's office, but she paid no attention to it. The scattered case files and empty coffee cups on her desk spoke of a sleepless night. Her phone buzzed on the table, the caller ID displaying a name she hadn't seen in a year: Wen Liao.

She stared at the screen, her jaw tightening. Her fingers hovered over the phone for a moment before she hit the red button to decline the call. Her chest tightened with a mix of anger and hurt.

"He decides to call now?" she muttered under her breath.

Moments later, the phone buzzed again. Wen-Li's grip on her pen tightened, nearly snapping it in two. This time, she exhaled deeply, trying to control the surge of emotions. After a few rings, she answered.

"What do you want, Liao?" Her voice was sharp, colder than she intended.

"Wen-Li…" His voice was hesitant, almost cautious. "I—I know I haven't called in a while. How are you holding up?"

She scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "How am I holding up? It's been a year, Liao. A year since Mom and Dad died. Not a word from you. And now you want to know how I'm doing?"

There was silence on the other end, broken only by the faint sound of wind in the background.

"I deserve that," he said finally. "I should've called sooner. But I've been...busy."

"Busy," Wen-Li repeated, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Too busy to check on your sister? Too busy to even show up at the funeral?"

"I was deployed," Wen-Liao said, his tone firm but not defensive. "I'm part of the army now. My unit's been on missions non-stop. I didn't have a choice."

Wen-Li's hand clenched into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. "You always have a choice, Liao. You could've called. Even once. Do you know what it's like to deal with everything alone? To be the one holding the family together when there's no family left?"

His voice softened. "I'm sorry, Wen-Li. I really am. I thought about calling so many times, but…"

"But what?" she snapped.

"I didn't know what to say," he admitted. "I didn't know how to face you after everything. And now, I'm calling because...because I'm about to head out on another mission. It's dangerous. I don't know if I'll make it back. I couldn't leave without hearing your voice."

Wen-Li felt her anger falter, replaced by a pang of worry. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"What mission?" she asked quietly.

"I can't give details. You know how it works. Just...know that I'm doing this for the right reasons," he said. "I'm proud of you, Wen-Li. I've heard about the work you're doing. It's incredible."

Her voice softened, though her anger lingered beneath the surface. "You're still an idiot for not calling sooner, Liao."

"I know," he said with a small, sad laugh. "But I'll make it up to you. When this mission's done, I'll come see you. We'll talk properly."

"You'd better," she said, her tone firm but less harsh. "And Liao...don't you dare get yourself killed."

"I'll try not to," he promised. "Take care, sis."

The call ended, leaving Wen-Li staring at the screen. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair. The anger hadn't completely faded, but for the first time in a long while, a faint sense of relief settled over her.

"Wen-Liao…" she muttered, shaking her head. "You'd better keep your word."

The dimly lit chamber of Madam Di-Xian's command center buzzed with a quiet intensity. The air was thick with tension as agents worked on their terminals, tracking leads and coordinating missions. Madam Di-Xian, seated at the head of a long table, was reviewing reports when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the room.

Alvi, Jun, and Farhan entered, their expressions grim. Alvi carried a tablet, her face pale and drawn from exhaustion. Jun had a determined look, while Farhan's usual composed demeanor was replaced with a hint of urgency.

Madam Di-Xian looked up, her sharp gaze cutting through the room like a blade. "What is it?" she asked, her voice low and commanding.

Alvi stepped forward and placed the tablet on the table, its screen glowing with the dark-web's eerie interface. "Madam, we've traced the perpetrators. They're the ones behind the website facilitating child abuse, trafficking, and worse," she began, her voice steady despite the weight of her words.

Farhan added, "We've cross-referenced the data with recent cases. These people aren't just hosting content—they're actively running operations across multiple regions."

Jun chimed in, "And we have their location. The center of their operations is in Noctum Hollow."

The mention of the name made Madam Di-Xian's expression darken. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "Noctum Hollow…" she murmured, her mind racing with the implications.

"Yes, Madam," Alvi said, scrolling through the data on her tablet. "It's a city crawling with predators, rapists, and pedophiles. This is where they're orchestrating everything. The evidence is undeniable."

Madam Di-Xian's eyes blazed with fury as she pushed the tablet away. She stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

"We cannot let this stand," she declared, her voice filled with a righteous fury. "Children are suffering—dying—because of these monsters. They think they can hide in the shadows of the dark-web and behind the filth of Noctum Hollow? Not on my watch."

The agents in the room stopped what they were doing, their focus now entirely on her. "Prepare the teams," she ordered, her voice ringing with finality. "We move tonight. We'll strike at the heart of this operation before they even realize we're coming."

Jun nodded, his hand instinctively resting on his holstered weapon. "We're ready, Madam."

Farhan stepped forward. "Do we have full authorization to use all necessary force?"

Madam Di-Xian's expression hardened. "Burn them to the ground if you must. But no more innocent lives will be taken under their watch."

Alvi, still holding the tablet, hesitated. "Madam, we'll need to move quickly. They're likely to scatter if they suspect we're onto them."

"Then waste no time," Madam Di-Xian replied, turning to the operational team. "Alert all units. This is a priority mission. The safety of those children is paramount."

She turned back to Alvi, Jun, and Farhan. "You've done well to bring this to me. Now, we finish it. Make sure every agent knows the stakes. No hesitation. No mercy."

As the room erupted into action, Madam Di-Xian remained at the center, her presence a beacon of determination and justice. The war against the predators of Noctum Hollow had begun, and she would see to it that their reign of terror ended in flames.

Noctum Hollow is a dark, twisted city within the dystopian landscape of Nin-Ran-Gi, notorious for harboring some of society's worst predators and criminals. A place defined by corruption, secrecy, and perversion, Noctum Hollow is an urban labyrinth of decay and debauchery, where the veneer of normalcy barely conceals the horrors lurking in its shadows.

The architecture of Noctum Hollow mirrors the corrupted nature of its society. Dilapidated high-rise buildings loom over narrow alleyways, their concrete walls stained by decades of grime and neglect. Shattered windows and rusted metal facades give the city a haunting, skeletal appearance. Flickering neon signs buzz erratically, casting ominous shadows over the narrow streets below. Despite the urban sprawl, the city is eerily quiet, with only faint echoes of footsteps and whispered conversations hinting at the people hidden within its depths.

Noctum Hollow's narrow, winding streets are lined with rundown establishments — grimy clubs, seedy motels, and bars with barred windows and rusted doors. Many buildings house unmarked entrances that lead to underground operations, hidden from public view. These establishments cater to the twisted desires of the city's inhabitants, protected by a network of criminal syndicates who ensure that the authorities turn a blind eye. 

Abandoned structures and empty lots serve as gathering places for illicit activities, where the city's predators roam unchecked. Shadows seem to cling to every corner, as if the darkness itself is complicit in hiding the unspeakable acts committed here.

It is infamous for its intricate underground networks that allow criminals to operate with impunity. Secret tunnels and passageways connect buildings, creating an elaborate maze that only the city's insiders understand. These hidden corridors are patrolled by private guards and informants who ensure the privacy of the city's elite predators. Many establishments operate by invitation only, with entry granted through cryptic codes and connections that only the initiated understand.

Above ground, the streets are dotted with surveillance cameras, but these devices do little to protect the innocent. Instead, they are used by powerful criminals to monitor the city's residents, ensuring loyalty and obedience. The few who dare to rebel or speak out are swiftly silenced, their disappearances unnoticed in a city where people are accustomed to looking the other way.

Within the city, secret brothels and hidden clubs cater to the darkest desires, guarded by criminal syndicates who wield considerable influence. These organizations profit from the perverse appetites of the city's elite, who view Noctum Hollow as a place to indulge without consequence. They protect their interests ruthlessly, often employing mercenaries and assassins to eliminate any threat to their operations.

The sun dipped below the jagged skyline of the twisted city, casting long shadows over the crumbling facades of forgotten buildings. The evening air was thick with the stench of decay and desperation, a fitting setting for the sinister task ahead. In an abandoned building at the city's edge, a gathering of determined warriors prepared for war.

Inside the decrepit structure, Madam Di-Xian stood at the head of a weathered table, her sharp eyes scanning the faces of her trusted agents: Farhan, Alvi, Jun, Roy, Masud, and the enigmatic Agent-90. The air crackled with tension as they laid out their plans to strike against the predators of Noctum Hollow.

Before they could begin, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. The agents tensed, hands instinctively moving to their weapons. The door creaked open, revealing a group of figures stepping out of the gloom.

Katoge Nakahara and Wanaka Hubayahi entered first, their eyes filled with determination. They were followed by a formidable band of Sinners:

Chaongu Zoyah, a steely-eyed woman with a lethal presence.

Adela Young, her scarred face a testament to battles fought and won.

Bai-Yu, with her calm demeanor masking a deadly skill set.

Wolverine, a towering man with a wild look in his eyes.

Don, his sharp gaze betraying a cunning mind.

Rahu, a hauntingly beautiful woman whose piercing stare seemed to see through souls.

Madam Di-Xian's eyes narrowed as the group approached. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her tone firm.

Katoge stepped forward, his voice resolute. "We know what you're planning, and we want in. The predators, rapists, and pedophiles of Noctum Hollow have plagued this city for too long. It's time they met justice, and we'll fight alongside you to ensure it and sorry for not giving intel what you ask Madam Di-Xian."

Rahu nodded, her voice cold and deliberate. "We're not here to get in your way, Madam Di-Xian. We're here to help you turn this city into the living hell these monsters deserve."

Madam Di-Xian studied them carefully. The Crimson Lotus agents exchanged uncertain glances, but Agent-90 remained still, his sharp gaze fixed on the newcomers. After a moment, Madam Di-Xian nodded. "Fine. But understand this: you follow my orders. We cannot afford mistakes."

Adela stepped forward, her voice rough yet sincere. "Agreed. We'll do whatever it takes."

With a nod, Madam Di-Xian gestured to the table. "Then let's get to work."

Gathered around the table, the group began outlining their strategy. A crude map of Noctum Hollow was spread across the surface, marked with key locations: warehouses, brothels, and dark-web operation hubs where the predators were known to operate.

Alvi tapped the map with a pen. "These are their strongholds. We know from the data that they'll be most active after midnight. If we hit them simultaneously, they'll have no time to regroup or escape."

Jun leaned forward. "We'll need to divide into teams and strike at key locations. But we can't just rely on force—we need to create chaos, disrupt their communications, and make them feel hunted."

Agent-90, silent until now, spoke in his low, even tone. "We need psychological warfare. Fear will break them before we do."

Wanaka smirked. "Turning their city into a living nightmare? I like the sound of that."

Chaongu Zoyah added, "I can take care of the tech disruptions. If we can crash their systems, we'll blind them and cut off their escape routes."

Adela grinned, cracking her knuckles. "And the rest of us will clean up the trash."

Madam Di-Xian nodded, her mind racing as the pieces fell into place. "We'll attack in waves. First, we sever their communications and power. Then, we move in and eliminate their leaders. Finally, we let the chaos do the rest."

Farhan added grimly, "And what about the children? Some may still be trapped in these places."

Madam Di-Xian's gaze hardened. "Rescue is the priority. No innocent lives will be lost. But no predator leaves Noctum Hollow alive."

As the plan solidified, the group fell silent. The weight of their mission loomed heavy in the air. Madam Di-Xian placed her hands on the table, her voice unwavering.