Blackhunt Origins Arc – Part 1
Location: Kanpur, India – Earthside
Time: 3 Days After Guild Formation
The rains had just ended in Kanpur. The smell of wet concrete lingered in the air, a mix of monsoon dampness and old memories.
Raghav stood before a rusted iron gate, his synthetic arm trembling—not from malfunction, but hesitation. Beyond the gate stood the house he hadn't entered in over four years. The plaque still read: Sinha Villa. Ironically fancy for a place haunted by silence.
"Do they even know I'm alive?"
Behind him, Blackhunt's vehicle idled. Ankit had offered to come, but Raghav declined. This was a ghost he had to face alone.
🕰️ Four Years Ago – Floor 2, Tower Arcadia
Back then, Raghav had been part of Crimson Vow, a powerful, top-ten climbing team. His soul weapon—the Phantom Arm—was prized for its utility. A limb of pure energy, invisible to most, capable of projecting illusions and manipulating physical space.
Crimson Vow wasn't built on friendship. It was made of ambition.
Their leader, Zehra Maan, was brilliant but cold. Raghav, her second-in-command, had designed every strategy that led them to victory—clearing Floor 2 in record time.
Until the Blood Maw Trial.
A boss beast, mutated by a rare mana eruption, slaughtered half their group. Raghav's strategy failed. Worse, when he went back to save Jitin, their youngest member, he lost his real arm—bitten clean off by the Maw.
Bleeding, screaming, he was dragged out by the only person who stayed behind—not Zehra, not the others.
And yet, when the Tower medics revived him, he received a cold message:
"You are hereby expelled from Crimson Vow. Your handicap makes you a liability."
His reward for loyalty was abandonment.
🌫️ Present Day
Raghav pushed open the gate and stepped inside the house. It was dimly lit, but not empty.
His father sat at the dinner table. Thinner, greyer, but unmistakably him.
The old man looked up—and froze.
"Raghav…"
"I'm not here to stay. I just wanted to see it again," Raghav said quietly, the artificial fingers of his phantom arm twitching.
His mother entered the room. She gasped, tears in her eyes. But when she approached him, her hands stopped just short of touching his metal shoulder.
"You—why didn't you ever send word?"
Raghav's voice was flat. "Because I didn't know if I was still human."
They sat in silence. His parents served food. No one touched it.
"People talk," his father muttered. "They say you're in the Tower again. That you've joined some rogue guild."
"Blackhunt," Raghav replied. "And it's not rogue. We fight for our own."
His father's gaze sharpened. "You used to fight for glory."
"That's why I lost everything."
🩸 One Year Ago – Earthside, District 17
After returning from the Tower, disgraced and forgotten, Raghav had wandered. He didn't even apply for Earthside work. No guild wanted a climber with a "defective soul anchor."
Until one day, in a black market town crawling with Tower scavengers, a beast-hunting ring spiraled out of control.
A mutated Fangbeast ran loose. People screamed. Raghav didn't even think. He rushed in with his half-functioning soul weapon, used the last of his strength to confuse the beast's senses with illusions.
And would have died—again—if not for a boy with dual talwars who sliced the beast's throat in one precise motion.
Ankit Kumar.
"You fight like a man who's already lost," Ankit had said.
Raghav collapsed. Bleeding, shivering.
"But I see a strategist still alive in your eyes. And I need one."
🎖️ Back in the Present
His parents listened quietly as he told the story.
Raghav stood and adjusted his coat. "I'm not here for forgiveness. Just needed to remember why I stopped being a puppet."
His mother reached out. This time, her hand rested on his metal wrist.
"You were always kind, Raghav. That's why it hurt so much to lose you."
He didn't speak. Just nodded—and walked out.
Outside, the car door opened.
Ankit leaned on it, smirking. "Surprised you came back alive. I had a speech ready."
Raghav exhaled. "Don't worry. I had an illusion ready too."
They both laughed.
The past didn't define him anymore. But it had sharpened him.
And now, Blackhunt had a strategist forged by betrayal.