The Multiverse Hunter

Ali locked the door again, the faint click echoing in the dim room as he turned his gaze to the shadowed corner. There, the girl sat curled up, half-hidden under a curtain of rough, tangled black hair. Her clothes clung to her thin frame, stained and torn, her skin dulled by layers of dirt. She looked up only once, flinching when his eyes found hers, then dropped her head again like a beaten dog.

Ali stepped toward her, but stopped halfway, his nose twitching faintly. 'She reeks…' His heightened senses picked up the raw stench of grime, sweat, and fear soaked into her skin. It wasn't her fault. To him, it smelled like decay—and what this town had done to her.

She flinched when he moved. "W-What do you want in return… for helping me?" Her voice was small, rasping from disuse, but it carried the sharp edge of suspicion—learned through pain.

Ali sat down on the edge of the bed. He studied her like she was a puzzle. 'She's brittle. Whatever spirit she had was broken a long time ago', he thought.

"Why do you think I want something from you?" His voice was calm, not kind—just true.

She lifted her chin a fraction. Her lips trembled. "Because nobody helps someone like me in this town without… wanting something. Except Tess and the old man." She hugged her knees to her chest like they were a shield.

Ali's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Tess… she's decent and who's the old man?', he thought. He tilted his head. "Well, you're right," he said flatly. "I do want something from you. And you're not leaving this room until you give it to me."

Her whole body went rigid. She shrank back into the wall, shaking her head, a soft sound escaping her throat. "Please… don't hurt me. I'll leave—I won't say anything—just don't—"

Ali raised an eyebrow. "Tell me your name."

She blinked, lost. "M-My name?"

"Yes." He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. "Your name. That's what I want."

The confusion in her eyes flickered like a candle. She stared at him, searching for a trick—then looked away again. "Melissa," she whispered.

Ali watched her carefully. "No second name?"

Her jaw tensed. "N-No. I don't have one."

He saw the lie instantly. Her shoulders hunched when she said it, her eyes darting left. A beaten mind's reflex—but still a lie. Ali's voice cooled, iron creeping in under the words. "Your family name. Now."

She froze. Her eyes filled with water that didn't fall yet. Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Then, in a voice that broke halfway through, she whispered, "Maler. I'm… Melissa Maler."

Ali's brow rose. 'Maler. The merchant family responsible for the mines?'. "I was told the Malers were wiped out," he said, watching her flinch like the words had slapped her.

"Not all of us…" she murmured, her fingers digging into the filthy hem of her skirt. Her voice cracked as memories she'd buried clawed up through her throat.

Ali exhaled through his nose, weighing her. 'Obidos turned on your family, bled you dry, buried you in shadows, left you to rot…'

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Who was that man who came looking for you?."

Melissa's lips trembled. She opened her mouth—then closed it. Her eyes darted to the door. She stood, her bare feet silent on the boards. "Thank you for helping me. But… can I go?" Her voice was paper-thin, her body already turning away, moving toward the knob as if she could pretend she hadn't heard him.

Ali didn't stop her. He leaned back on the bed, silent, watching the broken ghost walk toward the door she'd never really escaped through before.

As her hand touched the knob, he spoke. His voice was soft—like ice under moonlight.

"Melissa."

She froze.

"I can change your life. I can drag you out of the dark. But I won't force you. All you have to do… is ask me."

Her breath hitched. The silence wrapped around her like a noose. Her shoulders shook. Tears fell—hot, messy, raw—splashing onto the old wooden floor.

'Is this real?' she thought. 'Is this the hand I've prayed for in the dark all these years? Or another lie?'

Her knuckles whitened around the knob—then fell away. One step. Two steps. Her knees buckled as she crossed the room. She dropped to the floor before him. Her tears stained the wood between his boots.

"Please…" Her voice cracked open, the words torn from her throat. "Please help me. Please—save my family—save me—I can't—I can't do it anymore—" Her cries broke free, echoing in the small room as she gripped the fabric of his trousers like an anchor in a storm.

Ali didn't move for a moment. He looked down at the crying shadow on the floor, broken by a town that would sell its own soul for a copper.

'Good', he thought. 'I was planning to clear the town out of it's filth anyway'

He lowered a hand, resting it on her head, gentle. "Melissa Maler. You're under my protection now."

She had begged so many times before—begged until her throat burned and her soul bled—and no one had come. But tonight, in that dim room, the last of her fear cracked open, and she poured it all out at Ali's feet. Everything: her helplessness, her shame, her raw, hidden agony.

Her sobs broke in her chest, echoing against the walls while Ali sat silent, a dark figure carved in stone, watching her as if measuring her worth through her brokenness. When her cries turned to ragged breathing, he moved.

His hand found her chin, warm yet iron-strong, lifting her tear-streaked face into the light. His other hand brushed through her tangled hair, pushing it gently behind her ear, then wiped the tears away with the same fingers that had ended lives and shattered men hours ago. Now, they were steady and soft, steadying her.

"Tell me everything," he said, voice low but edged with command. His hands still cradled her face—this broken girl, small under his touch—forcing her to meet his eyes.

Melissa stared up at him. 'Is this real?' she thought, heart pounding so hard it hurt. The men in her girlhood fantasies—knights in shining armour, elegant young lords from the castle—they all looked like paper dolls now. This man, this hope—made her feel more real than she'd felt in years.

She nodded. He let go of her, and she stayed kneeling on the cold floor, head bowed for a breath, gathering herself. Then she spoke.

"My family was killed the night Edwin Cinder left Obidos," she began, voice trembling but steadying word by word, like a rusted hinge forced open. "Father was at the castle when they came—armed men. They stormed the house. They—they raped my mother and my older sister. Then they killed them." Her shoulders shook, but she didn't stop. The spark of hope in Ali's eyes fed something inside her that refused to break again.

"I ran. My older cousin—he got me out. He got his sister out too, but rubble fell on her legs when we escaped. She hasn't walked since. He's sick in bed. He's been sick for years. And I… I've been feeding them with whatever I can find, every day, for years…" Her voice cracked, and fresh tears blurred her vision.

Ali stayed silent, a dark shadow that felt more solid than the walls around them. She pressed on.

"Then that bastard—Arlo—he told me to be his private prostitute. When I refused, he turned everyone against me. He made it so no one would talk to me, or help me, or even look at me like I was a person. Anyone who tried to help… he made them pay. He paid the guards to keep us trapped here in Obidos like rats in a cage." She wiped her face with her sleeve, smearing dirt with salt.

"Greedy Arlo…" she finished. "He's the worst man in this town. He's the reason we're still suffering."

For a heartbeat, she felt the shame rise again. 'Why did I tell him? Why did I…'

Then she felt it—a warm weight on her head. Ali's hand rested there, rough but gentle, the same way you'd calm a frightened animal. His palm pressed down, grounding her.

She looked up in surprise, tears brimming again but this time different—softer, raw but not hollow. Ali lowered his hand, stood, and pulled on his mask in one smooth motion. His black eyes caught hers through the mask's slits.

"Take me to your home," he said. No threat, no warmth—just iron certainty.

Melissa stared, uncomprehending, until he hooked his fingers under her arm and pulled her to her feet. Her legs were weak but obeyed. Downstairs, Tess looked up from behind the counter. Her eyes jumped from Melissa's face to Ali's masked one, and her mouth opened.

"Sir, are you leaving? Is there—?"

Ali didn't spare her more than a glance. "No. Me and Melissa are going for a walk," he said, voice cold as the steel hidden in his words.

Tess's eyes darted to Melissa—worried, searching. But Ali was already pulling her out into the street. The night air bit at Melissa's dirty skin as they stepped into the moonlight. She turned toward the shadows by habit, feet carrying her to the alley without thinking.

"Where are you going?" Ali asked, voice calm but sharp enough to cut.

"This way—nobody sees us if we—" she started, reflex taking over.

Ali's tone silenced her. "No. Use the main road."

She hesitated. "But—"

"Do it, Melissa."

She stopped. Swallowed. And obeyed.

For the first time in years, she stepped back into the open, onto the main street of Obidos, her ragged clothes and bare feet plain for all to see under the moonlight. From behind her, Ali's steady footsteps matched hers.

And step by step, the thorny flower began to walk back into the world that had buried her alive—her head low, but for the first time, her shoulders not bent by fear.

'She's terrified of being seen… scared of the people who turned away,' Ali thought, watching Melissa from behind. Even now, every few steps, she'd turn to check if he was still there—afraid, not of him hurting her, but of him vanishing. She clung to him with her eyes.

They walked under the moonlit streets of Obidos—streets that should have been empty but weren't. Merchants were still packing up their stalls, whispering their secrets under their breath. When they spotted Melissa, they froze for a moment—recognising the girl everyone pretended didn't exist.

Then, as if she was a disease, they looked away. One man even sneered when she stepped too close, shouting at her to watch where she was going. He shut his mouth the second he noticed the tall figure in black trailing her, but Melissa still flinched at the sound, her head lowering even further.

Ali's eyes flicked over each one of them. 'Sheep', he thought coldly. 'One wolf shows his fangs, they all bow their heads. One broken girl—easy prey for the big dog—so they all looked away to keep their skins safe. Cowards. Were there No guards, no knights, no wandering idiot who wanted to play hero?' He almost scoffed. 'Obidos was rotting from the inside long before I came here…'

Melissa led him off the main road, slipping back into old habits—she turned into a narrow alley behind a row of shuttered shops. Here, away from the candle-lit windows, the shadows swallowed the street whole. But tonight, even the dark corners weren't empty. Dozens of homeless men and women, huddled under old cloaks and scraps, were sitting in small circles. Some gnawed on roasted beast meat, licking their fingers as grease dripped onto the stones. Others stared wide-eyed at the food in their laps, disbelief still written on their hollow faces. For them, tonight was a miracle.

When they saw Melissa, some of the older beggars recognised her. They didn't say a word, only dipped their heads quickly and focused back on the scraps in their hands. A few gave her pitying glances—pity they never dared to show when the wolves were watching.

Ali followed her quietly. He walked like a shadow—his masked face half-lit by the moon overhead. Every so often Melissa turned to check he was still there, and every time she found him right behind her, she felt relief.

Please donate some of your power stones, it would help my ff massively.

If you want to support my work and get Five chapters ahead of webnovel : patreon.com/Rondo312