Memories Buried by Snow

Prologue
Memories Buried by Snow

The mountains bathed in the warm glow of afternoon sunlight, reflecting the gold and orange hues on the surface of the snow.

A solitary figure trudged through towards the edge of a cliff, draped in a white, hooded coat, and carrying a large white bag slung over their shoulder.

Up ahead, beyond the cliff and cold mist, was another mountain, where a large villa stood. Its appearance was almost like a small castle that was hanging on the edge, surrounded by dense woodland.

The figure gazed at the horizon where the sun had started to set, when a gust swept through the trees and tugged down their white hood, ruffling their raven-black hair.

“What a bother.” A wisp of white smoke formed from the figure’s breath in a youthful male voice, stuttering from the frigid air.

Though his eyes were hidden behind opaque ski goggles, the lower portion of his face was visibly young and had a light complexion, which was only emphasized by the low temperature. The young boy properly adjusted his white headset, then pressed into it, “Command, I’m at the location.”

“Copy that, Two-Zero-One.” A feminine voice on the other end responded. One with a faint Irish accent.

The boy, Two-Zero-One, went on one knee and placed his luggage to the wintry blanket he stood on, inside it was an assortment of black components, with a long barrel at the most side. It was the parts to a firearm — a rifle — and started putting each intricate piece of the weapon together.

The winter trees whispered in a hushed voice as a gentle breeze swept by them. The figure glanced to the skies opposite the Sun, where dark clouds were gathering. A blizzard was brewing.

After assembling the rifle, the boy looked towards the horizon, where the sun was setting. It glistened with a hazy powder, dyed in the orange and purple hues of the dusk.

Two-Zero-One removed his goggles to soak in the moment, exposing his mismatched eyes to the thousands of snowflakes fluttering ahead.

His right iris was the color of dark copper with a small black mole just beneath it, while his left iris was a sapphire blue that radiated with a dim glow.

The moment he took his position, the snow wasted no time piling on top of his body, and the cold air started to stab his lungs like icy needles.

He placed his goggles back on and pressed his cheek against the rifle, adjusting the scope. As it blurred into focus, the yellow glow behind the window bars forced an old memory to flash in his mind. One of a golden ball of light from beyond the cold, rattling cage.

Disturbed, he pulled back his head and lifted his goggles, letting out an exasperated gasp. Unease filled his chest as a fresh scar clawed at the back of his mind.

“What happened? Is something the matter?” The woman asked as she heard his labored breathing.

“Yeah… conditions aren’t exactly favorable.” Two-Zero-One responded as he opened his hand, letting the snow fall in.

“You left most of your gear in the car.”

“I’m not gonna be here for too long, right? Get to the cliff, shoot, get back down.” He replied dismissively.

“It’s better to be prepared.”

A cold breeze swept through, “Ugh… Whose brilliant idea was it to have my first mission be on the mountain?”

“... Professor Tetsuya’s.”

“Of course…” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why did they choose me? Any other agent could make this shot.”

“Because according to them, there’s no one else like you.”

“There’s barely even two kilometers of distance. This is basically routine.” He argued.

A short silence followed before the voice on the other end responded, “Have you ever aimed at a real person before?”

His mouth opened for a second. The faint rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance.

All he had to do was watch and pull the trigger at the right moment. Physically, it was something he had done hundreds of times. Although much colder than his usual training, it was routine nonetheless. Mentally, he was taking his first step into unfamiliar territory.

He closed his mouth and tried to gulp down as silently as possible.

“All of the agencies are watching you, Agent Two-Zero-One. They will evaluate everything after the mission. They want to see what you can do, or if you can even do it. If Professor Tetsuya’s masterpiece was worth their investm—” There was a slight crackle at the tail end of her words.

The deep, monotonous gray was creeping in from the distance.

“What happens… if I fail?” He hesitantly asked.

“If you fail, then—” The voice on the other side was suddenly cut off with a high pitched snapping.

“Ahk!” He yelled out, “Command? Command, do you copy?”

The cold air hissed as another gust of wind swept by.

A stiff numbness ran through his fingers, “If I fail... They’ll stuff me back in that white box…” His voice shivered as he remembered being trapped inside the empty, white-painted walls.

Two-Zero-One tightened his grip on the rifle. With nervous eyes, he looked back inside the villa, his goggles hanging over his head.

Even though his scope would come to focus, flickers of snow blocked his view every other second. The render was unclear from such a distance, yet he saw a warm glow radiating from the brown interior.

He continued to focus and saw the cozy sight of wooden floors and cream white walls, decorated with yellow lamps. There was a slightly elevated section at the front, which appeared to have been decorated to look like a stage. Around a total of ten people sat below, chatting in what looked to be the audience section of the room. It was a small group of intimate friends and family.

Static crackled in the boy’s headset, “——Hello? — you hear me? Do you hear me now?” She asked.

“Y-yeah, I can hear you now…”

“Must’ve been some radio interference. Keep me posted.”

“Copy that.” He replied.

Light dimmed inside the villa, and a young girl carrying a violin walked onto the stage. She had platinum white hair, not unlike the snow, and looked almost the same age he was, if not a little younger. Behind her followed a man in a suit, who was likely a butler.

The girl nodded at the man standing behind her. He couldn’t see it through the scope, but she was smiling excitedly at the butler.

At the front-most chair sat a gentleman with white streaks in his hair from age and stress.

The boy adjusted the scope to focus on the old gentleman, “So, that’s him.”

As his finger brushed against the trigger, he suddenly felt something crawl up the back of his throat.

He quickly covered his mouth, gulping down a bitter bile that was trying to escape his stomach.

After swallowing the rancid taste, he scanned his surroundings. Ahead of him, less than ten feet away, was a steep drop into a chasm below where the sunlight could not reach, where a haunting pull called out to him. Beyond the cliff was the villa standing atop the other summit. To his sides were the continuous hills surrounded by dense forests. To his right was the sun setting between the mountains, and to his left was the snowstorm brewing in the distance.

Behind him was the path he had taken to get here. His footsteps, buried beneath a fresh blanket of snow, as if he never set foot there.

“Where would I even go?” He shook his head. There was nowhere to run to. The shafts of golden sunlight were like prison bars.

He continued to watch as the girl began playing the violin, while her audience watched cheerfully.

The boy pressed onto his and asked, “Located the CEO and who I assume is his daughter. Any updates on the target?”

“We — no new updates on the details. D—termine who— figure it——” Her voice was the only sound other than the howling winds, but even that was blocked out by the weather.

The winter trees danced to the tune of the weather, signaling the blizzard’s first attack. A gust of wind that pulled his white cloak over his face. The more he struggled to get it off, the more it slapped him in the face.

After being repeatedly slapped by his own attire, the boy got up on his knees and let the wind blow away the cloak. The blue turtleneck underneath was all that was left to fend him from the frigid frost.

A gust of wind was enough to send shivers down his spine. The biting cold stiffened his fingers as he tried to get onto the trigger.

Beams of sunlight sank as the sun was halfway down the mountain, and the air grew colder with each passing moment.

But when he returned his gaze through the scope, he saw the heiress try to strike the butler behind her. A struggle ensued, and the butler grabbed her by the throat. Some of the audience members stood up, but they were unable to get close, as he pressed a pistol to the back of the young girl’s head.

“Two-Zero-One to command, do you copy? Target has been identified, he has taken the heiress as a hostage. I repeat, the target has the heiress hostage!” He pressed into his headset, frantically called out to his handler.

“Copy— — I repeat— — —”

Static stopped him, letting several critical seconds slip away.

Tears began streaming down from the girl’s eyes as she froze in the butler’s grasp.

Without any instruction, Two-Zero-One let out a vicious scowl. He was afraid of being reprimanded, but the feeling of not being allowed to do anything enraged him. “Command, I have line of sight on the target. I repeat, he’s in line of sight. Permission to engage!”

“—— risk shooting the heiress. Do not——————” More static crackled from the other end, until there was nothing left to make out.

With grit teeth, the black-haired boy looked through the scope, muttering, “Sorry, command, but…”

As his finger pressed the trigger, a bright flash from the sky blinded him, and the crack of the rifle was drowned out by the thunderous roar that followed.

But the bullet itself vanished to the white curtain of rushing snow.

When the sound of thunder died down, he quickly opened his eyes and looked back into the interior. He saw the violin drop to the wooden floor, and saw the girl’s face.

A pit formed in his chest as he saw her eyes, the horrified expression she had. The betrayal in her eyes as a man close to her, a man who stepped on the stage with her, was about to take her life.

With his teeth clenched, the boy reloaded.

Full of rage and panic, he set his sights on the butler’s head. As he was about to pull the trigger, everything in front of him suddenly turned white.

For a moment, there was nothing. No sound and nothing to see. It was as if his senses had been stripped away. Or rather, the thickness in his head made it feel dull and blocked out, as if everything was faded and hazy.

Just the numbing quiet and a dim white void — and all he could do was breathe in once.

As the cold air filled his lungs, a crack of lightning shattered the silence, leaving a high-pitched ringing in his ears which was gradually being replaced by the blaring winds brushing against his hair.

He instinctively clenched his hands, and felt that the rifle was missing.

When his vision cleared up and he found himself several feet in the air, he realized that the rushing white wave was a blast of snow that sent him skyward.

As soon as he grasped his situation, gravity’s grip pulled him back to the earth. The biting chill pierced into his skin as he slammed on his back — While the icy blanket muffled his fall, the impact had forced the bile out his stomach.

He wheezed without thinking, then grimaced at the taste and started coughing. He sat up and spat out the bitter mixture clogging his throat. He felt the warmth of every trickle drag across his chin, only to turn into ice before reaching the ground.

But as he vomited, he heard the splintering sound of ice nearby. Slowly, he turned his head to see the shattered fractals just a few feet away from his head.

Another shard fell down. A bullet shot from the sky. A frozen block of hail.

He got back up. Ice ran across his veins as he shifted his gaze towards the sky. His thoughts lagged for a moment, processing the scale —the sheer magnitude of what was yet to come.

Dark clouds spiraling into a vortex. A tempest swirling just above his head.

The boy hesitantly took a step back, but a small crackle in his ear caused him to slip and fall, “—Zero One—”

Her voice reminded him of their earlier discussion. Her words came rushing back to him:

“All of the agencies are watching you, Agent Two-Zero-One. They will evaluate everything after the mission. They want to see what you can do. Or if you can even do it.”

On the ground, he glanced towards the villa. The icy path in front of him was lined scattered bullets, and sitting its edge was the long black barrel of his half-buried rifle.

Paralyzed, he was unable to make a decision. Moving forward was a risk; turning back, a failure. Staying put meant certain death.

A low rumble rolled through the air, and his headset crackled once again, “Two — One, return to the ——come back — before the blizzard—”

A small smile formed on his face as tears welled-up, relieved at the thought of going back. To run away before the oncoming snowstorm reaches him.

But as he turned, hurriedly crawling back to the forest, a strike of lightning turned everything white. In that moment of pale blank, the heiress’ frightened face flashed in his mind. Her fear-filled eyes. Her horrified expression. How the butler was hurting her.

When the brightness faded, so did his hesitation.

Anger flared in his mismatched eyes.

Balling his hand into a fist, he got back on his feet and marched back to his position.

The storm punished him for his decision and struck him with a barrage of pale white pellets. Tiny cannonballs that filled his ears with burning explosions and stabbed his cheeks with thousands of invisible needles.

Every step slid across the snowy surface, pushed back by the blizzard’s relentless assault. Aware that his window of opportunity was getting slimmer.

Even though he was unaware of the current situation, or whether the heiress was even still alive, he powered through.

His stiff fingers picked up the sunken bullets in his path, only recovering the two that glimmered above the white blanket. He clung onto them between his fingers and he reached for his rifle, which was toppled over by the wind. It had slid significantly from where he had it aimed.

It did not take him long to return to his initial position, all he had to do was search for the warm yellow dot in the distance.

Beyond the frozen rain, however, he saw that the situation had escalated inside. The CEO inside was kneeling in pain and bleeding from his arm, having been shot by the butler, all while his daughter was frozen and crying.

His target grew increasingly rabid and started shouting and moving in erratically, swaying his gun around as if to tell them to stay back.

The boy bit his lip, frustrated that he had to wait for the butler to sit still.

A few more seconds pass. His lip started cracking from the cold as he waited for a better shot.

Until an opportunity presented itself to him. One of the audience members tried to walk to plead with the butler, taking away his attention from the girl. The shot was clear.

He had practiced this shot countless times, it was an act he was intimately familiar with. But now, staring at his target’s face, his finger froze against the trigger.

But his mission was clear. Protect the heiress. There was no room for hesitation or self-doubt.

He squeezed the trigger —

Blood splattered.

A large hailstone struck the boy on the back of his head, staining the powdery blanket.

From between the two mountains, a fleeting shaft of sunlight illuminated the agent’s body.

Bleeding on the ground, another hailstone struck dangerously close to his head, snapping him back into consciousness as it broke into icy fractals. Slowly, he turned his head towards the sky.

The tempest had filled up its arsenal — A thousand shimmering hailstones suspended in the sky, ready to rain at any moment.

He instinctively curled into a ball and covered his head, bracing for the onslaught.

With his eyes closed tight, the bombardment began.

His ears filled with a symphony of shattering ice. Nature’s vicious downpour left him clueless and disoriented. His limbs quivered with each brutal strike. The countless fractured shards shredded through his shirt, leaving a dry burn on his skin.

Frost bit into his flesh and ice seeped into veins.

Each strike was precise, ruthless, and left him gasping for air. But at the storm’s mercy, there was enough of an interval for him to catch his breath and take in the frozen air.

Time started to blur — He couldn’t tell how long it had been since the icy assault began — but he knew that it had to have been somewhere between thirty seconds and a thousand years.

“I can’t… die yet…” The agent declared to himself. He gathered enough willpower to open his eyes and crawl forward. “… I still have to…”

A scowl formed on his face. His veins began to radiate with a blue light, and his blood began to boil. Heat emanated from him, the thin frost enveloping his body melted away, letting him regain some sensation in his body.

Even though the frozen air stung, he filled up his chest with a deep inhale.

Bit by bit, he sluggishly inched his way back towards the rifle with his elbows. Even as the hail repeatedly struck his body. A sharp pain radiated with every half-step he took, but he continued onward regardless.

The last ray of sunlight led him to his rifle.

As soon as he grabbed on to the weapon’s strap, it slipped.

Barely hanging on, his heartbeat pounded against his throat.

Despite the cold, a drop of sweat a thousand times colder slid across his face.

Anxiety radiated through his whole body as he watched one of his bullets tumble off the cliff’s edge. Its golden glimmer disappearing into the depths, while his own rifle threatened to drag him down along with it.

Two-Zero-One instinctively pulled himself back up, the last bullet squeezed tightly between his fingers as he hurriedly placed his hand on solid ground.

From above, he was relentlessly pelted with hail. On his sides, the ground he desperately clung to was quickly crumbling underneath his chest, while the gun he was barely holding onto was dragging him down into into the darkness.

There was barely anything for him to maintain his balance. The sound of the shifting snow whispering his slow slide towards the abyss.

Nature forced him to make a choice — either drop the gun, or fall with it.

Rather than continue staring into the abyss, he shifted his gaze back at the villa and thought about the heiress. A snarl formed on his face as he thought about her expression. The blurry memory of someone else flashed in his mind. Another with the same look of fright.

There was nothing he could do against the blizzard’s vicious assault. The frozen storm wasn’t something he could fight, much less an enemy he could kill. It was just something in the way.

With grit teeth, he inhaled. The cold air invading inside him as he mustered all of his strength to pull the weapon back up.

He barely lifted it up to eye-level, and as he looked, the blood from his face blurred his vision, it was difficult to even see. Fortunately, in spite of the blizzard, the villa stood proud with next to no damage.

But all he needed to see was the orange dot in the darkness.

Though the blizzard insisted on blocking his view, the flickering sunlight granted him a few seconds of clarity. As soon as it came into full view, he saw his target walking towards the door with the heiress, while she reached out for her father, who was still bleeding on the ground.

His heartbeat rang in his ears.

From outside the window bars, the heiress’ actions forced him to remember a memory he had buried deep, one he desperately tried to forget. In that moment, he caught a glimpse of someone else — A girl with golden hair and golden eyes, desperately reaching for him from beyond iron bars.

In front of him was another crying child, another outstretched hand out his reach. A familiar helplessness hammered at his chest.

“Not again.” He gulped, his body barely clinging to the ground.

Hanging halfway into the abyss, he loaded his last bullet.

With a clear mind, he breathed in. With a focused gaze, his eyes lit up with an unnatural blue light.

As he fired his last shot, the recoil slammed him back into solid ground.

Snow, wind resistance, trajectory — all of those lost meaning the moment the bullet left the muzzle, leaving a trail of faint blue sparks. It weaved through the falling snow and hail, slipping between the metal bars and crashing through the window, before taking a sharp, upwards turn straight towards the butler’s head.

In less than a second, the scent of gunpowder was immediately blown away by the blizzard’s last breath.

The sun had set.

With a deep groan, the boy quickly returned his gaze towards the villa. Though the hailstorm just passed by, the villa appeared relatively undamaged.

Through the scope of the rifle, he gazed at the silenced faces of those staring at the blood-stained wall. After a second’s notice, their mouths widely opened, and the screams followed. The panic had erupted for all of the guests, with the exception of the old man who reached for his daughter, and the young girl, who remained stunned on the floor.

As he embraced his daughter, her blank expression told it all.

But as the sniper watched, one more hailstone shot down from the sky and shattered his scope. As if to tell him that it was enough, that his job was done.

He picked up the rifle and all the scattered things that he could find, placed them inside the bag, and slung it over his shoulder, the weight of which nearly toppling him over.

There was a raspiness to his voice, “All I had to do was pull the trigger, so… why?”

Though his body was stiff and tenderized from the hailstorm, what ached the most was the storm forming in his chest.

“Why?” It was a simple, yet incomplete question. One without an easy answer. Or perhaps the answer was lost somewhere in the snow storm.

He shook his head, taking a deep exhale, before turning away from the edge. He began his slow descent back, dressed in a torn shirt covered in scrapes and bruises.

Ahead of him were the wintry black trees. Despite being ravaged by hailstorm, they still stood tall and proud.

The adrenaline had worn off. His weak knees burned with every step, and a sharp pain radiated throughout his body, throbbing, like his blood vessels were filled to burst.

Yet he noticed that the hail had stopped falling. He glanced upwards, and saw the aurora dancing in the sky. In the darkness of night, he didn’t realize that the blizzard had already passed by.

Static crackled in his ear and the voice followed, asking frantically, “— Agent Two-Zero-One, do you copy? Do you read me, Two-Zero-One? Are you alright?”

“I’m… alive.” With a cracked voice, he answered, letting out a dry laugh.

“Status?”

“I’ve successfully…” He took a sharp inhale, reiterating, “I’ve successfully completed mission. I’ll be returni—”

He dropped to the ground, bleeding from the head after a hailstone struck him. One final sucker punch. His body slid uncontrollably, leaving a trail through the frozen blanket, up until his back hit one of the black trees.

As the powdery pellets sapped away his strength, he tightened his fist and declared, “Not here…not yet… I still have to… get answers...”

Blood and bile poured from his head and mouth, the only other thing that his senses registered were the beating footsteps as he was buried by snow.

*

While the winds hummed and whistled, visions of an old rundown warehouse came flooding back in the boy’s thoughts, filled with fire and screams. Hazy, short and fragmented.

In the darkness, sitting inside a rattling cage, and a voice that boomed with anger from the other side of the door.

“That was the experimental!”

There was a vision of a syringe with blue and yellow fluid. Then one with a twisted hand buried in rubble as it reached for the sky.

The next vision followed, under the blue sky, standing at the podium. Static from the speakers blaring, followed by a booming voice, “The first of his kind! Professor Tetsuya’s masterpiece!”

Followed by the sound of soft giggles, and the voice that asked, “Well, we can’t have that. How about I name you instead? What if your name was…”

Two-Zero-One’s mismatched eyes shot open. The azure glow in his right eye had disappeared, and returned to being a dark copper. The skies above were nearly pitch black, partially obscured by the branches.

“Oh good, y’er still alive. Gave me a scare there.” A familiar feminine voice sighed with relief.

He found himself lying on a log, still within the woodland, still surrounded by snow.

In front of him was a small crackling fire with barely any wood to sustain it, let alone keep him warm.

A snowy-haired woman stood nearby, wearing sunglasses, and a green, four-leaf clover necklace dangling over her black suit.

“I was only s’posed to watch ya from afar, but since ya didn’t come back, I had ta look fer ya. Lucky ya weren’t wearin’ that white cloak, otherwise I’d’ve never found ya.” Her tone was a complicated mix of rattled and relieved, any semblance of formality she had in the radio had completely vanished.

His body was heavy and sore. It was already difficult trying to sit upright, but the added sensation of the soaking cold was dragging him back down. As he settled upright, he noticed the black coat wrapped around his body.

He took off his headset and asked, “What… happened?” His voice was raspy and barely audible.

“That’s what ya get for not preparing properly.” She sighed, echoing his words mockingly, “What was it you said? Get to the cliff, shoot, get back down, right?”

“... right.” He answered meekly.

She let out a deep sigh, “Them higher-ups prob’ly knew about the blizzard, and yet they forced ya’ out here anyway. Cold-hearted bastards, I swear, risking your life like that…”

The boy blinked twice, staring at the crackling flame.

The white-haired woman adjusted her sunglasses, “I was tryna order you to return. But ya acted on your own accord, tried ta play hero, let the CEO get shot in the arm, get yerself beaten up by hail, disappear soon as you were done, and—”

He shuddered in fear, recognizing that the woman was his handler, and was listing down his mistakes, “I’m… I didn’t—”

“… and ya saved a life…” The small flame lit up her smile, “You’re a good, kind person, aren’t you?”

Memories of all that transpired, of all he did, flashed in his mind. The face of the heiress, the blood-stained wall. Bile immediately built up in his mouth again — a disgusting taste that he immediately spat out, shivering in both revulsion and frost.

“Oh, gross.” The white-haired woman’s facade of professionalism quickly dropped as she watched him vomit.

“I killed… someone…” He muttered out with a clogged, nasally voice. His stomach churning.

“That’s right… Yer first assignment was to take someone’s life. You killed someone for the first time.”

The white-haired woman pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping his chin. “That ain’t something a thirteen year old should ever experience. But you also kept the heiress alive, s’well as every other bloke there. Don’t forget that.”

“… understood.” He nodded.

She tossed the vomit-stained handkerchief away and him a mug full of a dark, brown fluid, “Drink this, should warm ya right up.”

His fingers quivered as he took hold of the mug. The warm wisps rising from it were clearly visible. The heat was soothing to his stiff palms.

“But… what about the CEO…” He whimpered.

She sat down beside him and added, “That tough old bloke’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s just glad his daughter’s alive. Grats, ya succeeded in yer first mission.”

Relief washed over him, and he took a sip, only to stick out his tongue as soon as he tasted it, “…This isn’t chocolate?”

“Ya can’t tell me you’ve never had coffee before. Guess it’s only the finest for the Professor’s masterpiece.” She spoke in a carefree manner, ruffling his hair.

“Masterpiece…” His eyes narrowed as he lowered his gaze.

The woman laughed awkwardly in response, trying to shrug off the remark, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend. It’s only been a year since the implementation, hasn’t it. Wounds still prob’ly fresh, ain’t it?” She blurted out tactlessly.

“... Every day has been the same since then...”

The white-haired leaned back and exhaled softly, her breath visible in the icy air, “If ya want me honest opinion, I can see why the Professor has so much faith in ya. I reckon most adults would’a run at the first sight of the blizzard.”

“Them higher-ups sent ya out there alone just ta watch ya tuck yer tail between yer legs. They wanted to make the Professor’s one success look like a fluke.” She stretched out her arms forward, continuing with a louder voice, “But ya proved you were worth every damn penny they spent.”

Startled, he responded, “Thank you, miss Nocturne…”

“Nocturne’s just me codename. Call me Luna, Luna Aster.”

“Miss Luna, I’m…”

“Felix, right? Everybody in the agency knows about ya.”

“Right…” The boy, Felix, absent-mindedly took another sip from the coffee as he was lost in thought.

As he reflexively spat out the bitter drink, Luna covered her mouth and giggled to herself, “Still don’t like how it tastes? Let me fix that.”

She took the mug off his hands, “Stay here for a minute, the car’s parked right outside from here.”

Left alone in the woods, he shivered. Though his body was still stiff and sore, he inched closer the small flame.

The crackle of fire filled the silence as he brought his hands closer to it. The warmth returned feeling into his hands, and he began stretching his fingers.

“… saved…” He whispered in raspy voice, recalling the heiress’ expression and how the CEO embraced her. His face relaxed, and he took long, deep inhales.

Only for a cold gust to wipe out the flame, leaving only the charred wood and crackling embers.

The heated air faded instantly, turning his relaxed expression into an annoyed pout as the snow began to pour over his head.

He properly put on the black coat that was draped over his shoulders and blew warm air into his hands.

Branches creaked, and the sound of snow crunched, signaling her return, “Ah, it looks like the fire went out. But it looks like that black coat suits ya better.”

The white-haired woman handed the mug to the shivering boy. As he took another sip, he immediately blurted out, “Sugar?” The taste was now much sweeter than before.

“Two creams and three sugars, to be exact. It’s me favorite.” She answered warmly as she sat down beside him.”

“It’s… nice… thank you.” He hurriedly chugged down half the drink to warm himself up.

“In spite’a everything ye went up against, ya stood y’er ground and survived a hailstorm, an’ somehow completed yer first mission. No wonder them scientists keep tryna turn more people like ya… ” She mused as she gazed towards the night sky.

Flustered, he gazed into his coffee. The blue glow radiating from his left eye reflected in the dark drink. He sipped through the cup.

The wind began to howl, and snow started dropping from the branches.

“Time to go. Any longer and the cold’s gonna kill the both of us.”

“Back to the agency?” His eyebrows curled, there was a bitterness to his question.

“Ya ain’t dead, but y’er still beaten up badly. So let’s get ya to a hospital first.”

“Ah, mhm…” He nodded.

Sensing the dilemma in his voice, she then commented, “After that, how about we go to uh…” She placed her hand on her chin, “Well, y’er too young for a pub. So how ‘bout we go anywhere you like?”

“Somewhere I like? But… I don’t really know anywhere…”

“Then I’ll show you places.”

“Ah, okay. Thank you…”

“Truth is, I should be the one thankin’ you.”

“Huh?”

Luna suddenly slapped his back with a cheery smile, before walking towards the car outside the woodland, “Hurry up, agent.”

He hurriedly finished the coffee and followed her out of the woodland. As he stepped out, he saw the open skies, waves of light dancing with blue, green and cyan hues.

“Them scientists really want to turn more people like ya. Eventually, there was a breakthrough in their research, did ya know that?” She stood just a few meters away from him, her white hair swaying in the winter winds.

Luna lifted up her sunglasses and turned to face him.

“Miss, your eyes…”

Her eyes radiated with an orange glow. The color as fire.

“… Technically I ain’t at your caliber yet, but thanks… for being the first of our kind.”

Her words caught him off guard, and his hands squeezed the cup, “What?”

“I’m saying you’re not alone anymore, Felix.”

Iridescent auroras danced in the distance, yet her eyes stood out the most to him. They radiated with the color of the fire, no, the color of sunset.

She walked closer to him with a stern voice, “Y’er still just a boy, far from becoming the light of the future…” Placing her hand on top of his head, she smiled, “But don’t worry. I’ll teach ya.”

The car engine started. The heater hummed as Luna drove. Felix sat in the back of the car, sharing the space with a red spear lying in the back.

His face pressed against the window, the monotonous black and white flashed by, coming and going, yet the blue glow in his eye remained ever stagnant.

In the pale, muted darkness of the car, only two colors stood out —

The blue glow of his left eye, and the ember like orange radiating from both of Luna’s.

Unlike those ephemeral moments that quickly disappear, he will always remember the taste of his first coffee, and the warmth he felt in his chest.

As the exhaustion set in, his eyelids grew too heavy. The last thing he saw was Luna’s white hair waving back and forth from the driver’s seat.

*

As the years passed, Felix sat on the blue leather chair.

“Felix?” A soft voice called his name.

He opened his mismatched eyes, meeting the gaze of a young black-haired woman seated across from him.

“We’re here. Are you ready?” She asked.

He clutched the middle of his chest, squeezing the blue fabric. He saw the night sky through window and answered, “Yeah… I’m ready.”