July 3, 1617 Central Calendar, 00:01

  Maypita, Southeastern Archipelagic Region of the Holy Milishial Empire

  Lugiel, who had expected Meteos to continue with his midnight routine as the White Lotus Leader, tilted her head in mild surprise when events unfolded differently from what she anticipated. Instead of carrying on with his sortie, the silver-haired seer appeared at her room, carrying a datapoint delivered by a stag-beetle-shaped runner drone that had traveled nearly 15.000 kilometers nonstop as fast as its ultracompact Pedanium Manadrive Engine allowed.

  To clarify, her puzzled reaction didn't necessarily imply that it was a bad thing. It all depended on the nature of the intelligence Meteos had brought. Yet, as she listened and observed his unchanging expression while he consulted her, Lugiel, being inherently less informed about the Annonrial Empire's detailed internal situation than Meteos, began to wonder what sort of outcome this meeting would bring.

  "—Quite a scene," she eventually remarked after glancing through the datapoint. "Didn't expect you to stumble upon an anomaly... or rather, anomalies... so soon after starting out."

  Pondering it a bit, Meteos then shrugged while giving the spymaster princess a lopsided grin.

  "It was bound to happen. Our infiltrators essentially walked into a crossfire between this entity and the Annonrial authorities trying to hunt it down, but capturing any anomaly we come across was always part of the plan, wasn't it? Besides, this adds to the regime's confusion, so it's well within acceptable limits."

  While not resigned to the situation, his reaction showed a degree of acceptance. Or rather, confidence in his subordinates that they won't fail him.

  "Still, an alerted Annonrial regime will certainly complicate things."

  "It's their home turf, so nothing can be done about it. If anything, we should expect such encounters from now on, so I'll do my part in learning the lessons of this encounter."

  "I see, then I'll stop my 'whining,'" Lugiel chuckled sheepishly before changing the subject. "Not a bad find, huh? But about the other one... Meteos, do you think it's that one? The 'Kyriel' we heard about before?"

  "I can't say for sure until we have it secured here," Meteos bluntly answered.

  Lugiel tilted her head again, absorbing his tone. It seemed Meteos didn't yet grasp one of the entities' full nature, only its immediate consequences.

  That was due to one of the anomalies encountered this time being absent from the list in Meteos' future memories. This was a significant gap in knowledge. This omission suggested that the anomaly, whatever its potential might have been, would ultimately be crushed by Annonrial suppression forces before the late 1630s and erased from every historical record unless Meteos intervened, a move as typical of the secretive empire as it was wasteful. At the very least, this hypothesis was consistent with the presence of the other captured individual whom Meteos knew. They culled anything they couldn't completely control, erasing chapters of power they deemed inconvenient.

  Lugiel nodded slowly at Meteos' words, giving him a measured approval. There was a faint smile on her lips.

  "I see that while you came here under the pretext of consulting me, it is clear your mind was already made up. You merely sought to keep me informed. I'll review the footage from your operatives in detail soon, but I don't have any objections at the moment."

  "Thank you, I'll do my best not to disappoint."

  Inwardly, Lugiel couldn't help but draw a comparison. Her thoughts wandered briefly to a certain rival of the future Emperor Milishial VIII during the Warring Kingdoms Period. That rival, commanding a vast and powerful state, had been so besieged by the conflicting counsel of his many generals and advisors that his campaigns became sluggish, indecisive, and ultimately doomed. He was an individual swayed by all the different voices of his gigantic army, whereas Lucius of the Morning Star heeded advice but made it clear his will was absolute.

  Watching the White Lotus Leader now, she saw a reflection of that same trait compared to the man who founded this very Holy Empire. He sought information and perspective, but the final decision rested solely and unambiguously with him.

  Seeing that no more discussion was needed, Lugiel rose from the bed and slipped into her coat, then followed the young man in scouting for more collaborators in Maypita.

  Day 7 of Arach Duozu (Month 4), Year 175 A.T.M / July 1, 1617 Central Calendar; 17:00 Local Time

  This moment marked the period just before the infiltrators in Annonrial dispatched their runner drone to reach Meteos.

  Having successfully breached the sparsely defended southern underbelly of the Annonrial Empire on the Illemese Continent, the Holy Milishial Empire's Operation WHEELHOUSE Task Force (also known as the Heretic Fleet or Righteous Salvation Army) began inserting three-person cells deep into enemy territory. Exploiting their extraordinary physical prowess as Xyston Magias, these infiltrators avoided the use of vehicles that might expose them to detection. Instead, they traversed the unfamiliar landscape entirely on foot, though in ways beyond ordinary comprehension, theoretically capable of covering vast distances in a single day without ever touching a road.

  However, one of their assignments required an extensive survey of the Annonrial hinterland, preventing them from simply rushing between objectives. Moreover, when the Annonrial Empire responded to the breach by tightening defenses around the destroyed airbase and nearby areas, the heightened vigilance forced the infiltrators to go into dormant mode, suppressing their signatures and remaining hidden until the danger passed, greatly slowing their advance. They were also constrained by their creator's strict "no-kill" directive (no thanks to Pestilence), preventing them from destroying any Annonrial they encountered without a second thought. This development was anticipated and well understood, but no less troublesome.

  Even so, after nearly two weeks of meticulous surveying, one of the teams finally discovered signs of civilization after traveling close to a river and began advancing toward it. The location was an inland town situated roughly 900 kilometers northwest of their point of origin, a striking change of scenery after days spent navigating the route of nothing but dense jungles that separated the ruined airbase from this isolated settlement.

  They were certain it was a small town resting beside the river. Through their optics, they spotted a cluster of buildings dominated by single-story houses, scattered among patches of greenery and paths, their modest roofs silhouetted against the sunset. The only notable landmark was the tip of a distinct spire rising above the treetops on a hill within the settlement. Distant hill enclosed the region, but the approaches leading to the town were nothing like the dense jungle behind them. Instead, it was an open flat plain, a wide expanse of land that offered no concealment. And it was blanketed with rice paddies as far as their sensors could see.

  The infiltrators, fully encased in the default jet-black armors of the Xyston Magias, quietly observed their surroundings while staying concealed within the jungle's thick foliage. Having found something worth stopping for, they began an impromptu discussion, feminine voices leaking from beneath their metallic masks.

  "A population center at last," the leading figure said, turning to her companions.

  One of them, with a bulkier armor to accommodate more powerful equipment, shifted her weight.

  "It's rather unassuming, isn't it? I don't see any significant military activity, so it must be just a random town that lives off agriculture."

  "Still, there should be a local law enforcement base, even if it's a small town."

  "Oh, I hope it's just a boring town," the final member tilted her head as she commented.

  "The Creator would prefer things to be 'boring,' but Lachesis is right, we must keep on alert."

  The leader nodded toward the one called Lachesis, confirming her words.

  They were the Three Dark Sisters, a three-person team of Xyston Magias currently deployed on this mission: the grim #6 Atropos, eldest and commander; the brash #12 Clotho; and the playful #60 Lachesis. Despite their ominous title and personality traits, however, all three were ultimately loyal to their creator, Meteos. The man was not exactly a heroic person, wrestling with his own ambitions and methods, but he did struggle for the path of least suffering.

  As they visually scanned the town before them, their gazes fell onto a small, weathered stone marker near the main path leading into the town. Zooming in, their optics easily resolved the carved letters, especially the word etched in a significantly larger font size than the rest.

  "T-R-I-N-I-L... Trinil. I see, let's log it for starters."

  Within moments, they transmitted the town's name and coordinates through the team's internal network, updating the digital map in their systems. Though most of the current year's version of the Annonrial Empire map remained a cartographic void, the Three Dark Sisters' and other infiltrators' meticulous ground survey had already begun filling in those blank spaces with data. They made no outward gesture; the process was as silent and automatic as their own thought.

  The newly recorded name "Trinil" now appeared as a single point of light on the map overlay, glowing faintly within the larger shadow of Annonrial's dominion.

  The team also took notes on the local script. Though written in what appeared to be the Annonrial language, the symbols themselves were instantly recognizable. This was no surprise. Descending directly from the exact same source with nary a change due to the untold history linking the two, the Annonrial and Middle Lands writing systems were mutually comprehensible. For the Magias, programmed with linguistic data from the Middle Lands, deciphering the worn carving and any future local writings was as effortless as reading the words of their own maker.

  "Next, deploying the little ones."

  With a series of almost inaudible clicks, the panels on the sisters' backpacks slid open. From the backpack units carried by Atropos and Lachesis, one hundred Ephemeroptera drones each streamed forth, while Clotho's larger pack released two hundred more. The combined swarm of 400 dispersed in silence toward the town, their sensors transmitting a steady flow of data to the sisters that quickly assembled into a digital reconstruction of the scanned terrain, complete with multiple live feeds.

  These tiny drones were the team's eyes and ears, their greatest asset for subterfuge. Small and unassuming, often mistaken for large insects or ignored entirely, they were incredibly versatile. They could slip through window cracks, under doors, or along ventilation shafts, navigating confined spaces with ease. Their directives were comprehensive: to map the town's layout in granular detail, log population density and movement patterns, and flag everything of potential relevance, from communication hubs and power sources to the armaments of local enforcers. Most importantly, they were ordered to identify any and all potential impediments to the mission, creating a real-time threat assessment.

  A significant portion of the swarm was specifically tasked with locating the town's means to call for reinforcements. They scanned rooftops for antennae, probed administrative buildings for communication rooms, and scoured the streets for any vehicle that could serve as a dispatch. The drones were to identify and, if needed, disable anything that could summon the Messiah's regime to Trinil should unexpected dangers occur. Though their ultimate objective was to destabilize Annonrial, their first priority was to secure as much ground as possible.

  Cut off from the Holy Milishial Empire and unable to receive real-time orders, the infiltrator cells were granted significant tactical discretion by their creator. The standing orders were clear, with one absolute condition of killing zero enemies. The "how" of their mission, whether to move like ghosts or unleash calculated chaos, was largely their own to determine.

  As the information streamed in, Atropos murmured.

  "It's seventeen hundred hours. The light will fade in less than an hour. Unless there's an event we aren't aware of, outdoor civilian movement should taper off after dusk in a small settlement like this. Ideal window for physical infiltration will begin after nineteen hundred."

  "So, we're stuck waiting another two hours at least, huh?" Clotho grumbled as she crouched down beside Atropos.

  "It can't be helped. The flatlands are open like a parade ground."

  Lachesis laughed softly.

  "What about the river?"

  Though her tone was mischievous, she was simply suggesting another possible approach route by looking at the environment. Yet there was a problem that Atropos immediately noticed with just a glance.

  "No. It's too clear."

  "Bummer~"

  The visual feed from the dispatched Ephemeropteras confirmed her assessment. The crystal-clear water was clean and shallow enough in many places that their forms would be silhouetted against the riverbed, making them as visible as if they were walking across the open fields.

  "Looks like we're waiting for full dark," Lachesis concluded with a sigh.

  "Just to be safe, we'll also refrain from using sensing techniques until nightfall. If there's nothing else, let's go to sleep until the time comes."

  "Understood."

  The two younger Magias chorused at their leader's words. With the decision made, the Three Dark Sisters settled into a more concealed position and entered a state resembling hibernation under a network of Ephemeropteras acting as sentries, with only the bare minimum of their functions remaining active. Their powerful cores, which usually pulsed with enough energy to be a beacon to any skilled sensor, were throttled back to the lowest possible output. Though this could not entirely erase their mana signatures, it was sufficient for their inherently high-powered pedanium technology. To most sensors, even fairly sensitive ones, their presence would seem no more remarkable than that of forest creatures resting nearby. Only a highly focused and hypersensitive scan would reveal the unnatural consistency of the signal, but in this remote hinterland where most of the military's attention was directed somewhere else after the recent unexpected attack, the chances of such scrutiny should be slim... usually.

  And so, the last sliver of the sun vanished behind the distant hills, and true darkness fell over the land. The town of Trinil, which had been bathed in the warm glow of sunset, became a collection of pinpricks of light from windows and the sparse streetlamps. The open rice paddies, once a vibrant green, were now a vast, dark plain under the emerging canopy of stars.

  ?????

  19:01 Local Time

  Time drifted almost unnoticed in a world of shadow.

  A cold drop struck its leathery hide. Then another. A moment later, the sky tore open, and a torrential downpour began, battering the dense canopy before finding its way to the forest floor. A low, rolling grumble of thunder echoed in the distance, a sound that had not been heard for many turns of the moon. The vibration seeped into the hollow where it lay and stirred it from its slumber, consciousness gradually returning. Its last memory before sleep was a feast. Now, that memory was a ghost that only highlighted the profound emptiness it now felt. It was starving.

  However, something unseen was stirring beyond these trees. There was fear there, and pain, and something deeper still: a slow gathering of resentment, of the kind that mortals never noticed, but it always did.

  That "negative energy" was growing stronger. Somewhere ahead, a place filled with breathing things had begun to stir in the rain, and the flow of their unease, their grief, and their tiny despairs trickled toward it like the first scent of blood in water. The feast it remembered had been rich, but this... promised something that could fill more void.

  It rose. Mud and roots clung to its limbs as it unfurled itself from the hollow, its motions silent despite the weight of its body. The storm had deepened now; sheets of rain hammered against the canopy, muting every other sound beneath their endless drumming. The lightning's glare barely reached through the trees, leaving the world a canvas of black and silver.

  Perfect. The rain would hide it.

  It's decided. It would have another feast.

  Pushing itself fully from the hollow, it melted into the downpour. Its form flowed through the trees, leaving no print on the sodden earth. It moved, following the siren call of misery that emanated from the collection of lights far in the distance.

  ?????

  A steady hiss of rain whispered through the canopy as the Three Dark Sisters roused from their dormant state. The downpour had grown heavier since they powered down, the thick veils of water all but erasing the distant lights of Trinil, creating even better conditions for an unseen approach. What had begun as a calm preparation phase, however, took a sharp turn when Lachesis, who had been keeping watch on the skies, caught sight of something unusual.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  "Hey, what is that?" she murmured, drawing Atropos and Clotho's attention. "You two should take a look."

  "Proceed."

  In the shared night-vision feed, an image shimmered into existence, showing a blurred silhouette circling above Trinil, cutting through the sheets of rain with slow, deliberate movements.

  Clotho raised an eyebrow underneath her helmet.

  "It's... humanoid. Wings attached to its arms, like a bat... or a bat-man, I guess."

  "...It looks too strange and grotesque to be any natural creature at first glance," Atropos observed.

  "So, a possible anomaly then? ...What do you think it's doing?"

  "From its movement patterns, I'd say it's hunting something below."

  "Speculation is irrelevant. A possible unidentified lifeform operating in our area of operations constitutes a variable. Our standing orders are to investigate and, if possible, secure all anomalous phenomena for the Creator's study. This creature falls under that protocol. We will capture it."

  Clotho struck her palm with a fist in anticipation.

  "Finally, some action."

  "As long as no one is killed, which means it is prudent to lure that creature away from this town as far as possible," Atropos cautioned. "But prior to engagement, we must isolate this population center just in case. Clotho, Lachesis, do it."

  "You got it, sister~"

  Instantly, a new set of commands pulsed through the network to the 400 Ephemeropteras hidden within Trinil. A significant portion of the swarm broke off from their mapping duties and descended upon the town's communication systems to begin their sabotage operations. Within minutes, Trinil was quietly and gradually cut off from the outside world, wrapped in a digital cocoon woven by the tiny machines.

  "Water Magic: Hidden Mist Technique..."

  At the same time, Clotho clapped her hands once, releasing a wave of mana from her pedanium core. The torrential rain served as the perfect conduit; moisture-laden air responded instantly. From the riverbanks and flooded fields, a dense white fog began to rise, creeping silently through Trinil's streets. The mist swallowed sound and reduced visibility to mere meters. Lights in windows became dim, hazy orbs. Clotho adjusted its density carefully, making it denser in the open areas and thinner near the edges of the forest, creating a natural funnel.

  They could have erected a full magical barrier formation that would completely seal Trinil from the rest of the world. But Atropos judged that deploying such a bright technique would draw too much attention at this stage, hence the decision to use the more natural-looking mist. A few daredevils or late-night wanderers potentially slipping out through the mist was an acceptable risk that one of the sisters could handle. By the time anyone realized something was truly amiss, Atropos was confident the battlefield would have already shifted deep into the rain-drenched jungles surrounding the town.

  Such was the decision made by the eldest of the Three Dark Sisters as the commander of this infiltration mission.

  A grim satisfaction settled over Atropos as she watched the mist envelop the town and the drone network continued the communications blackout. Even if they had to make do with their initial equipment, the stage was perfectly set.

  "Alright, it's time. Let's move out."

  "We roll!"

  In near-perfect unison, three jet-black figures launched themselves from the jungle's edge. They used the fog as their cloak and the curtain of rain as their symphony, their forms flickering between the spectral tendrils of mist as they advanced across the open paddies. In no time, the jungle behind them was lost to sight, and the dim lights of Trinil grew steadily larger.

  ?????

  19:06 Local Time

  Trinil Sectoral Police

  "...Roads closed due to 'bear attacks' and 'bomb disposal'?"

  Looking at her communicator in disbelief, Special Lieutenant Arial Hepburn sank into the old couch with a long weary sigh. The rain and distant thunder outside strung a melody perfect to accompany one into slumber. The day ended without anything out of the ordinary happening.

  ...Yet that was precisely the problem. She hadn't come to this countryside town to live a slow life.

  Since the discovery of the desiccated preacher's body about two weeks ago, there had been no further attacks by the suspected Unidentified Lifeform, and life in Trinil moved on, as if all of it had been a lie. Almost.

  But after an occurrence, a seemingly normal situation is actually the most dangerous. No matter how bestial an ULF might appear, it was a creature with an intellect to plan its attacks. Thus, when the predator stops moving, it's never because it has lost interest. It's because it's waiting. Assuming, of course, it was still lurking somewhere near Trinil.

  The townsfolk had already been advised to severely limit their outdoor activities after sundown, and patrol schedules had been doubled, even though it stretched the Trinil Sectoral Police's capabilities to its limit. A formal request for reinforcements had even been sent to the central government, backed by Hepburn herself as the Anti-ULF Task Force's field officer.

  What she hadn't expected was for new anomalies to erupt almost simultaneously across an area far larger than anyone had anticipated: the sudden invasion of unidentified invincible golems at an air base hundreds of kilometers to the south and then the emergence of an ULF calling itself 'Kyriel' in the regency capital, to name a few. Simply put, the whole southern Illemese region was thrown into chaos. Trinil and its own unsolved case were now just one spark in a raging wildfire. However, judging from the official story she had just caught a glimpse of, it seemed that the government was still intent on covering up the incident as much as possible.

  At that moment, Chief Rennan entered, holding two chipped mugs with steam gently curling from the surface of the dark liquid within.

  "Special Lieutenant, I thought you might like some tea."

  "No, thank you. I'm not in the mood for one," Arial didn't look up from her communicator as she replied. "How can you be so calm, anyway?"

  Rennan set one mug down on the desk near her anyway, then took a slow sip from his own.

  "Fretting too much gains me nothing but an ulcer and a sour stomach. This is how I cope. The question is, what does it mean for us? Are we really on our own for the time being?"

  Hepburn let out another sigh and tossed her communicator onto the empty couch beside her.

  "It looks that way. The police and even military did not expect things to be this bad, or this widespread... It will be a while until proper reinforcements are dispatched from Central."

  "Hmm... I hope so. We've cordoned off the roads and the town's perimeter, but that jungle... it surrounds us on all sides. Our investigation hasn't so much as scratched its surface. What if it's holed up in there?"

  "With all due respect, Chief, sending a handful of officers into that is suicide. Frankly, if the Unidentified Lifeform is hiding in the jungle, that's the best-case scenario for Trinil. Better yet, it might get bored, move on, and emerge somewhere else, hopefully a place with a military base or a heavier police presence that can actually deal with it."

  Rennan's eyebrows raised slightly.

  "Pawning our problem off on someone else, huh... That's a rather callous way of looking at it, Special Lieutenant."

  "It's just pragmatism."

  Hepburn shifted her sitting posture, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, though she still didn't touch the steaming mug left on the table.

  "Do you forget about what I said a few days back?"

  "...About those things' tendency to kill in a pattern? Of course not."

  In past cases of Unidentified Lifeform emergences, certain individuals behaved less like humanoid-looking animals and more like superpowered serial killers with intellect to match, each with a distinct pattern in how or whom they killed. Crushing people to death by driving trucks backwards, shooting encephalitis-causing quills at 14-year-old male middle schoolers to kill them, and even something unnecessarily complicated, such as "killing a specific number of people relating to musical notation, and only at aquatic locations with names related to musical scales, and it has to be to the tune of a famous classical music." No two killing sprees were ever quite the same, and by the time the police connected the dots, it usually meant that enough people had died to leave that pattern behind. The fact that no one else had died in the past two weeks was what stalled the investigation, which was both a blessing and a curse. The Unidentified Lifeforms were just too varied.

  In the first place, the term "Unidentified Lifeform" served as a sweeping generalization, albeit an official term, for any creature other than the Nephilim until proper identification was made. By then, they came to be called by the equally insulting label "Bio-Signature." Elves, dark elves, dwarves, humans, and beastmen were given official alphanumeric designations BS-R1, BS-R2, BS-R3, BS-R4, and BS-R5, respectively.

  This deeply ingrained grindset reflected the Nephilim's sense of superiority and ownership over humanity as direct descendants of the Seraphim of the Light Wings, a belief—no, fact—that rationalized their ultimate goal of the promised genocide of mankind just as their ancestors once created the five original BSes above to serve as food, sport, or literal punching bags.

  "More specifically, things that are grouped into a particular category based on shared characteristics, much like a form of taxonomy."

  "Ah, yes, thank you for filling in the blanks," Rennan chuckled ruefully.

  "...I'll take a walk."

  Heaving a sigh, Hepburn then got up and strode outside.

  "...You could just drink the tea..."

  Inwardly wondering if his attitude had offended his guest, Rennan called after her, but she merely waved a dismissive hand. Stepping out into the hallway, she leaned against the cool wall, taking a few deep breaths. But her moment of quiet was short-lived. The front door swung open, bringing with it a gust of chilly air and an officer soaked to the bone and shaking water from his raincoat.

  "Ah, it's you, Special Lieutenant," the officer greeted.

  "Mm. How's it going?"

  "...It's absolutely miserable out there. Rain hasn't let up for a second. And of all the times for my manacom to bust..."

  He hung his wet coat on a peg, still muttering.

  "And don't even get me started on this fog. It's rolled in something thick. Can barely see your hand in front of your face out there now."

  The officer's casual complaint snapped Hepburn out of her brooding. Fog? Without a word, she pushed past the startled man and yanked the front door back open, stepping out into the oppressive night.

  The officer hadn't been exaggerating. A thick, milky blanket had swallowed the police station grounds, reducing the world to a dim, grey sphere. The relentless rain was still there, and streetlights were reduced to hazy orbs that seemed to float in the nothingness, illuminating nothing but the condensation swirling around them. Instinctively, Hepburn extended her senses to 'see' past the veil, but what she felt made her blood run cold.

  The fog wasn't just water vapor; it was saturated with mana too dense to be ambient. Meaning that this was not a naturally occurring fog.

  Maintaining a calm fa?ade, Hepburn spun on her heel and retreated inside, rushing back to the Chief's office.

  "Chief. We have a situation..."

  Listening to the Special Lieutenant's explanation, Rennan was on his feet in an instant.

  "The ULF!?"

  "Possibly."

  "Dammit! So it's here after all..."

  The Chief didn't waste a moment. He barked an order at the officer who had trailed Hepburn in, still looking unsure behind her.

  "You! Get to the comms room, now. Patch through to all patrol units: all officers are to report any suspicious sighting, and request reinforcements!"

  "Yes, Chief!"

  Rennan watched the officer dash off to the comms room, his mind scrambling. They were shorthanded, the fog made tactics nearly impossible, and they were up against an enemy they barely understood. Before he could form a plan, Hepburn cut in.

  "Chief, I'm going out there."

  Rennan spun around, startled. "What are you talking about!?"

  "This fog is artificially created using magic. I am a sensor mage myself. I can try to find it before it attacks civilians."

  "You were the one who said it was too risky—"

  "I know," she replied, meeting his gaze. "But I'm no ordinary police."

  Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the office.

  ?????

  The Three Dark Sisters were in the middle of setting an ambush for the unknown creature when a telemetry blip from their surveillance drones froze Atropos mid-command.

  "...A sensing field? Its vector isn't from the target. A mana detector or a sensor mage...?"

  That thought raised alarm: the presence of a detector meant the authorities could actually detect them. And one was present in this backwater-looking town for some reason. No, it's possible that they were walking into an operation by the local authorities to deal with this unknown creature they were about to catch.

  "Clotho, Lachesis, change of plans. The local constabulary has brought a hound to the hunt. High probability that whatever emits this sensing field belongs to them."

  A new strategy formed in her 'mind' in an instant. A confrontation with the police, while dealing with the creature, was troublesome.

  "Lachesis, you're with me. Clotho, the creature is yours. Can you handle it?"

  "Understood."

  "Leave the heavy work to me! I'll capture this thing before sunrise."

  "Good, I'll leave it to you."

  With that, Atropos dashed off in the direction of the local police station, intent on keeping them from interfering.

  ?????

  Hepburn burst out of the station's back entrance into the vehicle bay, a concrete-floored garage housing two patrol cars. The fog was just as thick here, coiling under the corrugated metal roof. She needed to get mobile now that the situation continued to deteriorate further.

  'Four Unidentified Lifeforms...! This is even worse than I thought!'

  She yanked the driver's side door of the first car and slid in, jamming the key into the ignition.

  But nothing happened. The dashboard remained completely dark even after Hepburn tried to turn it on several times.

  "What in the world..."

  Scowling, she climbed out and tried the second car. Same result. It was as if both vehicles had been completely drained of power. Placing a hand on the car's hood, she felt the chill of dead metal. Reaching out with her senses, she realized that the mana that should've powered the ignition was gone, utterly and perfectly spent. The fuel was drained out too.

  "The vehicles are dead all of a sudden..."

  At that moment, another officer stepped out from the station's back door.

  "Special Lieutenant! Thank the All-Wielder you haven't left yet."

  "There's something wrong with the cars!"

  "Huh?"

  Having stopped the officer in his tracks with her words, Hepburn's gaze darted warily around the shrouded garage.

  "Both units are completely dead. I don't think this is a coincidence with all the things currently happening..."

  "Are you saying that the ULF somehow manages to slip into the station and disable the cars without us noticing? But—"

  The officer's question was cut short as two sizzling bolts of cerulean energy burst out of the fog from the direction of the open garage entrance. One struck the officer in the chest, the other hit Hepburn in the shoulder.

  "Argh!"

  The officer crumpled to the concrete floor without a sound, his body going limp. Hepburn, however, was only thrown back a step, with a sting spreading from the point of impact. She grunted and staggered, but remained firmly on her feet. The blast that had instantly incapacitated the officer felt like little more than a powerful static shock to her constitution.

  "Tch! Dammit, what now!?"

  Acting on pure instinct, Hepburn lunged forward, grabbed the collar of the officer's uniform, and hauled his unconscious form behind the relative cover of the second patrol car's engine block. A quick check of his pulse confirmed he was alive, just knocked out cold.

  Crouching low, Hepburn pulled out her gun and peered around the bumper into the oppressive whiteness, activating her sensing technique again. Other than the one approaching them fast, there was indeed an above-average signature in the direction beyond the open garage door, but the problem was... it was over three kilometers away.

  "........."

  Even if it had been a sniper, the accuracy needed to land two flawless shots in succession through the pounding rain and thick fog surpassed anything achievable by ordinary weaponry. Hepburn was fortunate to be an above-average Nephilim, otherwise she would have blacked out just like the unfortunate officer.

  The fact that an Unidentified Lifeform could snipe at all wasn't the most startling part; after all, the more adaptive killers among them had learned to blend into modern society, using trucks, motorcycles, and even guns in their rampages. What truly stood out was that the Annonrial Empire's arsenal was still largely projectile-based, meaning those energy bolts weren't technological in origin at all, but rather an inherent ability unique to this particular ULF.

  Hepburn reached for her manacom to alert the rest of the police, but all she got from it was silence.

  "—Are we really pinned down by Unidentified Lifeforms!?"

  ?????

  "Hmm, curious~"

  With her Manadriver-fed Ulorder automatic carbine still trained on the police station's rear entrance, Lachesis cocked her head in mild surprise.

  Why hasn't that one gone down yet?

  The ban on lethal force had spurred impressive innovation in non-lethal weaponry. The energy bolts were a product of this; a 'Stun Mode' for energy-based weapons designed to deliver a precise neurological shock on hit, overloading the target's system and inducing immediate unconsciousness. In terms of precision, it was a clear improvement over the Sonic Taser, whose wide dispersal field made it impractical in dense urban combat. Yet this time, something didn't quite add up. One officer was down as expected, but the woman had only stumbled, despite also taking a direct hit.

  "There's something not normal with this woman," Lachesis commented.

  Who is she? An anomaly? Some sort of augmented Nephilim? Two anomalies in one place? What are the odds of this happening?

  Given what just happened, the local Annonrial authority might be reacting faster than anticipated, especially since this person was practically right next to the enemy headquarters. What if the woman withstands more hits and makes it back inside?

  Either way, this needs a more hands-on approach.

  "...It can't be helped," Atropos chimed in through the comm link. "Lachesis, proceed with neutralizing the other police officers still on patrol. I'll see what is really going on over there."

  "Be careful, sister. Not only are you handicapped, but they might also outnumber you."

  "I like those odds."

  "Understood. I'm sorry!"

  After ending the transmission, Lachesis got up from her sniping spot and headed off to reposition, mildly annoyed that things were not as smooth as envisioned.

  ?????

  Meanwhile, Clotho succeeded in blasting the flying creature out of the air, her Ambassador Hell GPMG's stun blast jolting it hard enough to send it spiraling down into what looked like a small factory on the outskirts of the town. It likely hadn't anticipated being greeted by a makeshift anti-air gun and had been gliding casually in search of prey when Clotho unleashed a barrage of energy bolts at it.

  Clotho had barely taken a dozen steps into the factory in pursuit when a heap of rubble to her right burst. With a roar of splintered wood and metal, the creature burst free from its temporary tomb.

  Now, seeing it clearly and unmoving for the first time, Clotho could take in the full details of its form. It was humanoid, as tall as a man, with skin like polished obsidian. Thin membranes stretched from its armpits to the bony extensions along its forearms, forming bat-like wings. Its head bore pointed ear-like crests, and its face was frozen in a permanent feral snarl.

  Violently shaking off the dust and snorting angrily, the creature turned its head and caught sight of the jet-black-armored Magia standing defiantly by the entrance. It sniffed at the air, and then, it raised one clawed hand and pointed directly at Clotho with a seemingly accusatory gesture.

  "Uoy t'nod llems ekil eht srehto, tahw era uoy!?"

  Clotho tilted her head.

  "You can talk!" she exclaimed.

  The language it spoke reminded Clotho faintly of Daguva's native tongue when she first heard it, yet even after checking the language database, she couldn't decipher a single word. It was a completely new—or perhaps long-lost—language from whatever society this sapient creature came from.

  A smirk tugged at Clotho's lips beneath her visor. Capturing the creature had just become far more rewarding now that it had outed itself as more than a random animal. The no-kill directive still held, and it had already shrugged off the stun blasts, but that didn't mean Clotho was out of options.

  She quickly holstered the Ambassador Hell on her backpack, and in the same fluid motion, her hands turned to her hips, retrieving a pair of long black metal bars with silver plates. With a flick of her wrists, secondary grips extended perpendicularly from the main shafts, transforming them into rotating cudgels capable of channeling mana into elemental attacks: the Outlander.

  The creature snarled in response, lowering into a crouch, wings spreading wide to make itself look larger. Clotho shifted her stance, lowering her center of gravity, poised for a lunge.

  Both combatants moved at once, meeting each other's attacks head-on. Sparks erupted when the Outlander's twin rods met the creature's claws mid-swing, bathing the room in flashes of blue and red light.