Arknight : The Rise of The Grand Detective

The food stall just outside the campus buzzed with life, its chipped red awning swaying in the evening breeze.

The air was thick with the smell of frying onions and the faint tang of exhaust from passing cars.

Howard and Lin sat on rickety stools, a scratched metal table between them littered with napkins and condiment packets.

Howard, a wiry detective with a five-o'clock shadow and a tie loosened like it was choking him, was halfway through demolishing a burger.

Grease glistened on his fingers, and he chewed with the enthusiasm of a man who'd skipped breakfast and lunch for a lukewarm coffee and a stale doughnut.ut.

"Burgers,"he'd grumbled earlier.

"They will kill you faster than anything in this city, except for oripathy, of course."

Lin sat across from him, arms crossed, her dark jacket blending into the twilight.

Hersharp eyes tracked his every bite, a silent judgementt in their depths.

Herfingers twitched against her sleeve, impatience simmering beneath her calm exterior.

Howardcaught the look, swallowed his latest bite, and flashed a lopsided grin.

"What?No applause for the fastest burger in the west? Sorry, Lin—hunger's a harsh mistress."

Hewiped his mouth with a napkin, leaving a smear of ketchup on his chin, and pushed the fry basket aside.

"So, how's life treating you? Still dodging shadows in Lungmen?"

Lin's gaze sharpened, cutting through his banter like a knife through fog. She wasn't here for his comedy routine.

"What do you want, Howard?" Her voice was cool andand precise, with a faint edge that could slice steel.

Howard chuckled, leaning back with a mock-wounded expression.

"Ouch,straight to the punchline. What's a guy gotta do to get a warm-up act around here?

Then his tone shifted, the humourr dimming as his eyes locked onto hers.

"Nothing much. Just a little help. Detective's honour." He tapped his chest where a badge could be seen.

"Trust me, it's going to to help you more than me.

She tilted her head, sceptical, but before she could respond, he dropped a name that hit like a sucker punch.

"Jin Yao."

Lin flinched—a flicker of her jaw, a tightening of her lips—before her mask slid back into place

Jin Yao. The name echoed through her mind, dragging up Lungmen's grime: She was one of the Shadow guards who worked for her father.

How does he know? she thought, her pulse quickening. "How?" She muttered, barely audible over the stall's hiss and sputter.

Howard plucked a fry, twirling it like a baton. "Connections, my dear Lin," he said with a wink, popping it into his mouth.

He chewed, grinning, then leaned forward, elbows on the table

"I've got a line on the last big gang pushing that blue sand you hate so much."

He reached into his jacket—slowly, like he knew she'd clock every move—and pulled out a small plastic bag

Inside, the bluish grains glinted under the stall's flickering bulb. Utopia. riginium-tainted, a poison she'd seen ruin too many lives.

Her father,, along withWei Yenwu,, wasthe one who put a stop to it. She heard it had returned.

"Caught your attention, huh?" Howard said, sliding the bag to her.

"They're holed up in Lungmen, a bitit of a hike for a guy like me. I mean, look at me—do I look like I run marathons?"

He patted his stomach, then sobered, his voice dropping.

"I've got access, Lin. The kind that could clean up a mess you've been chasing for years. But I'm not the 'bust-down-doors' type. I'd rather let someone more active handleit."

He leaned in, eyes glinting with something serious beneath the jest.

"So, are are you in?"

Her thoughts churned. Howard was an enigma—a detective who seemeded to crack joke but carried shadows in his stare.

She didn't know him, not really. Low-profile types were wildcards, and in Lungmen, wildcards got ignored—orhadhidden secrets.

Ifhe's not bluffing. She exhaled, a faint hiss of decision, and nodded.

"I'min."

Howard's grin widened, all teeth and triumph. "That's more like it."

He fished a USB drive from his pocket—scratched, unassuming—and slid it across the table with a flourish.

"Yourtreasure map, courtesy of Detective Howard's discount spy shop. Locations, names, the works. Don't say I never gave you anything."thing."

Lin snatched it, her fingers curling around it like a hawk's talons. She met his gaze, searching for the catch.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, one more thing," he said, tapping the table.

"Your number. The private one. I don't trust burner phones—too many bad cop movies."

He smirked, but his eyes were steady, waiting.

She hesitated, then pulled a crumpled receipt from her jacket. With a quick scribble, she jotted down her digits and slid it over.

Standing,she turned to leave, her boots clicking against the pavement like a metronome of resolve. No goodbyes—just purpose

Howard watched her melt into the crowd, a dark figure swallowed by the city's pulse.

He snagged the last fry, chewing thoughtfully. "Well, well," he muttered to himself.

""Oneast thing to do."

***

Howard stepped into his apartment, his gaze landing on the stack of boxes cluttering the doorstep.

"Well,well," he muttered under his breath,

"Looks like the purchases finally decided to show up."

He nudged the door open with his shoulder, scooping up the boxes and easing them inside, setting them down just beside the entrance with a soft thud.

He let out a slow exhale, shedding the day like an old skin. First, his boots clattered to the floor, followed by his jacket, which he shrugged off and let slump in a heap.

"Time to ditch the grime," he said to no one, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric parted, revealing a lean chest.

He tossed the shirt aside, then unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as his jeans dropped.

For a moment, he stood bare, then reached for a black shirt that hugged his frame. "Better," he murmured, pulling on dark pants, black gloves creaking as he flexed his hands, and a mouth mask that he tugged snug over his jaw.

He crossed into what used to be his bedroom, now a stark, plastic-draped chamber that rustled under his steps

"Welcome toto sweet home,"he said dryly, eyes locking on her—his creation—sprawled in the centre.

A tall girl, her pale arms etched with scars that stood out like jagged maps. Her hair gleamed, a mix of blue and silver shimmering faintly.

Howard knelt beside her, gloved hands tracing her form. "Perfect," he whispered, inspecting every detail—every scar, every curve.

Atwork, time had slipped through his grasp; the coming events and his job tore his focus apart. Then it hit him.

'Why not make another me?'

He closed his eyes, breath steadying as he sank into his mind.

'Seaborns'. They were creatures that shared the same mind. He needed that ability.

"That'shat I need—both of our minds as oone."

He pictured it, a being linked to him, and focused.

Alexander's eyes fluttered open.

"Can you see me?" he asked, and through her gaze, he did—his own shadowed figure reflected back. He flexed her fingers, testing her.

"Move," he commanded, and she obeyed. Reaching out, he pressed a hand to her chest.

"Take this," he murmured, a fragment of his soul slipping into her like a spark.

Alexander rose, smooth and automatic, gliding toward the boxes.

"Let's get you dressed," Howard said, watching as she opened one and pulled out a suit—a crisp white shirt and black pants.

She slipped them on with eerie precision, and he couldn't help but grin.

"Look at you—my masterpiece." When she finished, she turned, stepping close.

"Come here," he said softly, brushing her cheek with his fingers. The sensation echoed in his own skin, a perfect loop.

"It's flawless," she breathed. "With you, Alexander, Rhodes Island won't know what hit them."

Alexander simply smiled.