Two wardens stand watch at the Metrolink train station. The station's platforms, wide and maintained, hummed with the quiet pulse of the commuters. A gentle breeze rattles the edges of the waiting area as Edward's train glides to a halt.
Stop cones are marked in areas that show 'hazardous' activity. Security tape is put around the areas as though to keep people away from the dangerous area. Many civilians stand around, recording the whole event, confused by the suited duo surrounding the station. Some speculated an incident while others were waiting for a potential news story.
"Hey move it!" the young male warden gestures, ordering the commuters to walk away. "This doesn't concern you." The civilians hesitate, caught off guard by the demand.
"Hey stop that," A female warden slaps his hand out of the way trying to calm the situation down. She turns her attention back to the crowd, her expression softening as she offers a heartfelt smile.
"The veil still hasn't cleared yet," the young male notices, clutching his hidden weapon. "It's very likely the passengers are still asleep." The train's doors slide open. A few lingering passengers catch a glimpse of what is happening. Their eyes widen as they see a tired bruised Edward covered in blood steps down onto the platform. He's disheveled, his coat tattered, and droplets of blood pearls clung to his face.
"What happened to him?" one man questions, recording on his phone.
"Is that…real blood?" a young woman holds tightly on her son's hand.
Edward turns his gaze to the lingering passengers still on the platform. He pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed at the whole situation. He wasn't in the mood for small talk or explanations.
"I thought this place was supposed to be entirely cleared or mostly," Edward reprimands, scanning the area. He lets out a deep sigh. "This doesn't look mostly clear to me. I don't think the Metrolink is this busy at this time and day."
Letting the tension linger for a moment, Edward simply crackles his knuckles. He gently pats the train like a new car. He takes another steady breath, frustration shimmering under the surface.
"Alright then," Edward chuckles to himself, clapping his hands together. "I got a bunch of unconscious fellows in the back with an extra dangerous one on the floor." Pointing at the young male warden, Edward directs him inside.
"Remember to put your back into it when transporting these guys out of the train," Edward instructs a smirk tugging on his lips. "The sooner the better. I don't want to file some paperwork if you pop something." The young male hesitantly gives a slight nod before carefully stepping inside the train.
The air in the train's interior hangs like a blanket with the aftermath of whatever battle just happened. Turning his gaze to the female warden, Edward stretches his neck out.
"As for you…please keep everyone off the platform, please," Edward utters, smacking the girl on the shoulder. A way to break the tension more than anything else.
"It'll look bad as your partner is dragging unconscious bodies out of the train," Edward playfully turns around, taking off his bloodied overcoat, "Oh, and please release the sleeping veil on the train. Those sleepy passengers have lives to continue."
"It'll be handled," the female warden nods, as she takes the instruction with professionalism. Her shoulders tense for the task in front of her. Edward takes a step back admiring the shared sense of duty between the two.
As Edward and the others were busy clearing the train of the unconscious bodies, the silence didn't feel like peace. Only a pause for what's to come.
Kiara throws down a Jack card onto the pile. The warden temple felt unnervingly calm as Kiara and her groups were busy playing a card game. No alarm. No orders. Just the rustle of sleeves and quiet laughter.
"Alright, Kiara. What's the new rule you made?" Adam dramatically questions, placing his cards next to his face. "It better be a funny one."
"Oh no it's terrible for you guys," Kiara dryly says, fidgeting with her card hand. "Your turn Adam."
"I guess I'll play safe," Adam calmly utters, picking up a card from the deck. Kiara slides three more cards for Adam to pick up, confusing him.
"Pick up those three cards," Kiara orders, a smile tugs on her lips. "It's my rule."
"Do you have to draw 3 cards every time you draw one?" Seth annoyingly groans while Anby pats his shoulder calming him down. Adam dramatically holds the three cards like it's a life sentence.
"Calm down," Kiara chuckles to herself, pulling out a bag of sour gummies. "How about you make a rule for yourself Adam even though you didn't win yet?"
"Oh, what's that?" Seth points at the bag innocently.
"It's just a snack from a gas station," Kiara explains, handing Seth and Anby a couple sour gummies in their hands. "I don't know how you'll react since being so secluded here. It's called sour candy."
"It's so good," Seth's eyes light up with a burst of flavor. Anby squints her eyes, slightly leaning back and forth.
"You okay Anby?" Kiara laughs as the shy girl takes a quick breath trying to process the surprising flavor.
"It's so sweet. Like a cherry flavor," Anby awkwardly says, pushing her glasses forward. The sharpness sends little shivers across her body. Her face twitches before she pulls her hand back.
"I got the rule," Adam shoots up from his seat, pointing directly at Kiara. "It's made directly to counter your rule."
"The whole point of the rule-making gimmick is for us to find out what the rule is," Kiara cuts back, sarcastically challenging Adam.
There's a pause as everyone looks between Adam and Kiara. Seth snorts a chuckle while Anby blinks behind her glasses. Kiara, unfazed, simply turns her head slightly. As Anby places a card down, the murmurs of the recruits in the courtyard rise. The group turns their heads to see the two wardens from the train station dragging a bunch of unconscious bodies.
No one knew how to react.
Adam's expression tightens as he scans the scene with suspicion. His usual goofy demeanor turned into a rare, serious look. The vested well-groomed warden looks on cautiously as he sips on his cup of coffee. The Arbiter looms over on his balcony watching the situation unfolding below him. Alwin Dubois readjusts his high collars.
Kiara's heart skips a beat, not from fear, but the realization that her world is about to become much more complicated.
"Come on guys. They may be assassins but they deserve some respect," Edward remarks, carrying the unconscious Reaper on his back. "Even this guy on me. He deserves even a slight lick of respect."
"Do you think we'll get to fight them too one day?" one recruit whispers to his friend with concern in his eyes. A ripple effect of comments and exchanges surround the unexpected arrival of the unconscious assassins. The entire courtyard fills with the nervous energy of the recruits, buzzing with unease.
With the help of a few mentors, Edward drags the unconscious bodies into their respective cells for interrogation. He hands over the Reaper's body before making his way. Zhang greets Edward as they walk further down into the temple. The chaos of the courtyard felt faded as the incense linger faintly in the air, drifting lazily in the stillness.
"You seem battered," Zhang dryly says, his footsteps echoing through the narrow hallways. "You looked much worse than what we handled with the distortion zone."
"Eh. I was sneak attacked," Edward shrugs his shoulders, casually brushing off the encounter.
"How many do you think attacked you?" Zhang inquires, narrowing his eyes.
"Around 30 probably more lingering in the city as of this moment," Edward remarks, his posture straightening y as they passed many royal guards standing perfectly next to the walls.
Zhang says nothing but the faint twitch in his jaws betrays his thoughts. They round a corner into the temple's inner sanctum. The adrenaline is now fading as Edward walks further in the corridors, his muscles starting to ache.
"I have a bounty on me- $5 million," Edward stops mid-step, looking back to make sure no one is following them. A sensation crept under his skin like crosshairs. No one was watching–not that Edward knew of.
Zhang's eyes widen with concern hearing the large amount the reward is.
"$5 million?" Zhang's mouth opened slightly, his brow furrowing with curiosity. "To think a bidder is giving away this much is reckless."
"This is not about the money," Edward mutters. "Whoever started this bid wants to send a message. I may be the start of something much more insidious that has been festering under our pillars."
"People just don't throw to end ghosts, Edward. They end what they represent," Zhang pauses to himself, his voice lower. He looks over to the paintings of the previous Arbiters before them, spaced evenly between them. Zhang's eyes lock onto each and every one of their broken faces of oil and memory.
"You and I both remember what happened...," Zhang continues, his tone low and deliberate. "When one man reminds people of who they used to be."
A chill settles in the air in between them. Edward breaks the silence running his hands through his hair.
"I've been in this fight long enough," Edward mutters, taking a slow breath. "I will continue to fight for who knows how long. Not just me but them–the creators, the dreamers, the quiet ones, and the ones who don't have a voice. They are our future not us."
"Are you going to risk everything for that future?" Zhang's voice hardens, turning his gaze back at Edward. "Are you ready for what's ahead? This is something no one is accustomed to."
A smile slightly tugs on Edward's lips.
"I have many stories, kid, that I never told you," Edward slaps the back of Zhang's shoulder. "Once you get a title like the 'Mothman' you make some feisty enemies. Especially persistent ones." He chuckles to himself, the lightheartedness contrasting the weight of the situation. Zhang shifts himself, unsure whether to laugh or stay serious.
"Maybe one day I'll get the full story out of you," Zhang mutters, a slight edge to his voice. "An old apprentice should hear about their master's old adventures."
"Oh you're going to hear it one day," Edward's tone lowers for just a moment. "You might not like what you hear." His steps were slow yet casual as he walked past a metal steel door.
"That's the interrogation room," Zhang utters, his voice echoing through the empty narrow stone corridors. His hands were placed behind his back, unamused by his old master's lost sense of direction. Edward casually steps back a couple meters, pretending he knew that was the door to the interrogation room.
"I knew that," Edward sarcastically says, opening the door with a slight creek.
"No you didn't," Zhang dryly says, entering the interrogation room. Edward closes the door with a soft click. A black-haired well-groomed vested warden watches carefully from a corner, his eyes narrowing unamused by the whole situation.
"Your grandpa fought assassins, Kiara," Adam rubs his forehead trying to comprehend the situation. "That's awesome. Do you think we'll get to fight our own?"
"I don't know about…fighting assassins Adam," Anby shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She fidgets with her fingers as she looks at the upperclassmen and mentors discussing what happened today.
Kiara glances back at them.
"This isn't what I expected to be a part of my journey," Kiara says, her eyes gleaming with unease and worry. "I expected to only fight cursed spirits but we're going to fight assassins. I don't know how we'll handle this but I know we will."
"How do we do that?" Seth stretches his shoulders, as chews on sour gummies.
"Well, we can't just stay cooped up," Kiara remarks, waving her finger in the air. "We need to get stronger. Stick together. Once done we run under the moonlight."
"What is this moonlight?" Seth raises his hand, like he is in class, questioning her analogy. "Is it a literal moonlight or a Kiara thing?"
"It's not literal but it's cool," Kiara grins, leaning forward, swaying her body back and forth. "Still I'm not afraid. We all get exhausted and worn out eventually, but…we gotta keep a strong gaze and take off."
"Super inspirational," Adam says with exaggerated praise, clapping his hands. Kiara just rolls her eyes and gently pushes him on the forehead. The group laughed it off, but they were mentally preparing for what was to come in the future.
Seth, sensing the shift in mood leans forward. "Kiara. Do you think we got this? We're still learning after all."
"Don't worry the moment we stop learning is if we lose," Adam chimes in. His expression firming up, "We got your back–always."
Anby shifts slightly in her seat but doesn't voice her concerns out loud. The idea of confronting such powerful and dangerous foes unsettles her. They all had their fun, their warmth–but not everyone could afford that luxury.
In the deepest corners of the temple, a lone figure walks into his barracks, his steps slow but deliberate.
His room is dimly lit, with candlelight casting a shadow over the area. A nicely groomed black-haired vested man walks out of the shadows, carrying a stack of files and documents. The veiled figures' annoyance festers as the man places the stack onto the wooden table.
"After today's showing," the vested man looks at the report. "It appears that Edward beating a bunch of assassins caused nearly 80% of all participants to quit the job."
"Yes…he did," the veiled figure's fingers clench deeply around the laptop keys. His anger seeped through his voice. "Those idiots. It was because they were too low-ranking to beat Edward. I need more experienced people. More powerful."
"The Reaper was on that train and he got beaten into a pulp? He was also captured and being interrogated right now," the vested man says in a disappointed tone, "Do you have anything to report to us?"
The shadowed figure angrily turns his head in a snappy motion.
"Everything is still going to plan," the man's expression is enveloped by the dim light. "I'll work on assassinating Edward Meitner later. We need to move on removing other threats"
A palpable silence falls between them.
"Kiara Meitner and Adam Lazarus?" the vested man raises his eyebrow. "We can't eliminate them, not right now especially when Edward is still alive."
"We just need to isolate them," the veiled man's tone goes in a more insidious direction. "We need to convince the council to send recruits out to survey the city for any straggling assassins left. Once they are isolated- they're good as dead."
"Who will deal with these threats?" the vested man inquires, emphasizing the words with hand gestures. "Kiara is considered a threat due to her rising potential and link to Edward while Adam is for being more of a wildcard."
"I want the Carnal Requiem," the man orders the vested man. "I want all members in this state as fast as possible. I will need to distract and cripple the temple."
"That can be arranged," the vested man nods his head, "But they don't come cheap. The kingpin does not take cheap offers for them. If they fail or worse get killed- it will all fall on you."
"You really think that a bunch of children can kill them," the veiled man scoffs. "There is no way that Kiara Meitner and Adam Lazarus can manage to kill even one of them."
The vested man narrows his eyes. "Remember your teachings. Strength is survival–fear your enemies but not kneel before them. Underestimation is hesitation."
The veiled man's eye twitches. "The higher-ups want Adam Lazarus and Kiara Meitner dead and that's what I'll give them. Kiara is a D rank warden. She can be easily killed with ease."
The private jet cuts through the crisp night sky. Their location- California. The passengers sit in their seats, each lost in their own thoughts, not paying attention to the serene beauty below them. The flight attendants move slowly down the aisles, their footsteps muffled as they each handle their dinner.
Before any of them can dine in. A gurgling noise cuts through the air.
"WHY IS THERE KALE IN MY FOOD!" a man in a pristine white dress shirt stabs the attendant with his surgical scalpel. Blood sprays around like a red cherry blossom, it arcs upward in a strange choreography. "I asked for NO vegetables! HOW ABOUT I FIX THAT BRAIN OF YOURS!" the man shouts, as he rises from his luxurious chair. He stomps on the man with violent conviction acting as if he stole his life's savings.
"Please don't do brain surgery on that man, doctor," a low annoyed voice cuts through the tension. A man in his black suit leans against the airplane's wall. "I don't think you're qualified for that. I'll eat the kale for you."
"Oh can I eat the attendant if he's dead?" a jolly chuckly voice asks the black suit man. A large short-haired assassin smiles to himself warmly at the thought. His eyes widened as if imagining a warm family dinner.
"So gross. You're making me lose my appetite," a woman with blonde hair with electrifying blue ends scoffs. She scrolls through her phone trying to ignore everything around her. "Why would they ever allow a butcher like you as an assassin?"
Back at the warden temple, the vested man hands the veiled figure the details of the Carnal Requiem's arrival time.
"I'll schedule a dinner service with them," the vested man pulls out his pocket watch, flipping the case to check the time. "I'll give them the details of their hit list."
"Good work emissary," the veiled figure leans on his hand, checking over the details and files in front of him.
"What about you?" the emissary questions, furrowing his brow. "The Reaper is in a cell awaiting investigations. Are you going to free him?"
"I'll not be doing that," the veiled figure coldly replies, placing his hands together. "There's too much security that I won't be able to do anything. Besides, it's not my job whether he's freed or not. I know he won't spill anything useful."
"You're skipping the long game," the emissary turns his back, grasping the door knob. His voice grows sharper. "You're wasting resources fast. Many assassins were killed. Millions went down the drain. Remember, the higher-ups won't hesitate to have your head plastered if the Carnal Requiem fails."
The veiled man gulps. He tries to hide his worry before the emissary could notice. He fidgets with his fingers trying to maintain the situation.
"This will work," the man smugly remarks. "They will eliminate the key targets. They will distract the temple from making logical decisions and I'll work on eliminating Edward Meitner permanently."
"Let's see about it," the emissary slowly opens the door, illuminating the dark room with a shining ray of light. It casts each of their shadows like a stain. Before closing the door, the emissary gives one last warning. "In one week, the higher-ups will need a progress report. Don't mess it up."
The doors close with a soft click. The man is engulfed by the darkness surrounding his room- left alone with his unraveling thoughts. Silence reclaims the room. The veiled man sat frozen, his pulse beating loud against the unnerving tranquility and stillness.