This chapter shifts to Link's POV.

The Silent Orion: By all means, use it. I just threw Frank Miller character archetypes in with Smash Bros, so it's not like I'm going to get mad at someone else doing something similar.

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Nothing is more nauseating than the stench of corruption, and all this street has come to know is that stench. How do you reconcile with yourself the decision to serve something built on corruption? The belief that you can do some good can only go so far. I see it all day long, the true power corruption has. It isolates and assimilates. The only hope you have is to get out of the water and seek higher ground.

Some poor bastards decide to fight it. Some even bury themselves as deep into the water as fucking possible, swim in the sea of destruction and greed. Sometimes, that rare, special swimmer comes along who doesn't soak up any moisture. Few last that far. This Kingdom is a rough sea, and its claws are everywhere, just looking for a stoic, resolute man to cut holes in, cut him right open, make him bleed, and fill the void with its dark waters.

It's a wonder I've lasted this long, especially as the claws draw nearer to me, multiplying. I lost the last good man today, leaving me alone in this unforgiving sea. Everyone on the streets knew it; Link, the last straight cop on the force. Amid liars, thieves, and in some cases even high-ranking mob officials, I just swam through, avoiding their piercing blades.

It only took a month. In rapid-fire succession, every clean cop was vanished, killed, crippled, gave in to the corruption, or resigned. With ruthless efficiency, everyone standing in the way was silenced, taken out of the picture. Only I remained.

As I opened the door to my dank apartment, heavy with the smell of tobacco and guilt, the carpet in front of the door in such disrepair that it set the stage for the train wreck I called home, a greater threat than corruption seemed to await me; the knowledge I have destroyed a life with my own hands.

"Oh, Link," cried a voice, already setting the scene as arms wrapped around me, a head of red hair pressed against my chest, almost as if to sink a knife into my heart. What she spoke with concern and joy to see me so much as stand, I felt was nothing short of hatred and bitterness. It was my fault she was here. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Problem was, she didn't hate me. Only I did.

Malon was the love of my life, and she was a wild soul. She was inherently good, incorruptible, like I was. But in a town like this, such innocence was never free. She was naive, childish almost. She wasn't glad I was safe because the entire police department was in mob hands and, as the last clean cop, I was an easy target. No, she was afraid I would be shot by some fleeing bank robber. Yeah, because the Mushroom Kingdom still had bank robbers with ski masks and guns; the thieves didn't need masks in this town.

Every night, she would run to me when I came home and hold me close, and every night, I hate myself. Hate myself for pulling her away from her small, secluded farm life, where she was safe, for bringing her to this horrible city to chase our dreams; her dream, my dream. It wasn't anyone's dream any more, it was a nightmare, Malon have to endure this lifestyle the main attraction. It seemed so good an idea at the time.

The starry-eyed rookie, an excellent shot with a bow and a remarkable swordsman, but with no place in the world. The royal Hylian guard had disassembled when the Mushroom Kingdom overtook it, leaving only the royal police force of the Mushroom Kingdom. It seemed like the logical place for me, but they wanted me posted in Mushroom City proper. Not one to complain, I whisked my blushing bride with me, and all was fine.

It killed me to see her smile, to see her as absolutely radiant a woman as she was when we came here four years ago. She hadn't let this cruel reality crush her because she hadn't yet seen the cruelty this world is built on. I wonder, sometimes, if she ever will. Maybe for the better; we could leave. Go back to Hyrule, back to her family's farm. I would trade a lifetime of milking cows and hauling feed to keep Malon safe, to give us the life she deserves, a life away from all of this.

"I'll always be safe, Malon, but sit down, I think we need to talk."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, pulling away, her face so beautiful, innocent...she didn't deserve any of this.

"No, but I don't think this job is working out. I think maybe we should go back home."

"But I thought-"

My phone cut her off. I groaned, reaching into my pocket and pulling the damn thing out. Who the hell was interrupting me now?

"Link!" barked the phone before I had any chance to say anything, "You're needed at the station. Stop dicking around and get over here."

"Chief DK, my shift is over and-"

"Now! This is very important."

I groaned as the sound of the phone smashing against the receiver played loudly through the phone. "I have to go to work for a bit, but I'll be back." I held her close. "Listen, no matter what, I want you to know that I love you, and I only want what's best for you. I just think this city isn't right for us." I kissed her, fighting back the tear in my eye as I repeated the words, "I love you."

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The walk to the station always showed me how low we had fallen. The corruption and decay the police department had embraced was only a symptom of this place, this black sea. The streets were just as bad, as was any building that had opened its doors and windows, letting the water fill every corner of this town. I felt responsible; how do you stop rape and theft when it makes you the enemy? I hadn't made an arrest in weeks out of fear for what would happen. I wasn't supposed to do police work, I was supposed to let crime continue. I wasn't supposed to stop rapes, I was supposed to high-five the sick fuck and ask him if he wanted a smoke. I wasn't a cop, I was a damn concierge for every piece of scum wanting to make it big at everyone else's expense.

I spent every patrol shift hidden away, eating in some end-of-the-line diner or hiding out with another clean cop. But now those options were gone. I was too far from shore to have any support. I had to take Malon and what little we could carry and make a mad dash for shore, hope that there hadn't been a flood. I would hand in my resignation and get the hell out. We were both in trouble the longer I stayed here. It was inevitable. I was the last piece of the puzzle that needed dealing with; one way or another, there wouldn't be any more straight cops on the force. I just hoped that I could hand in the resignation before the order is put out on me.

It was sort of funny; the reason I joined the force is now the reason I can do nothing. Everyone knew there were vigilantes; street people and rich, jobless weirdos, taking the law into their own hands. The accursed badge hanging from my tunic mocked me. It was what kept me from doing good. How dare a cop bring in a couple of muggers when those goons are working for Bowser? That kremling drug dealer's one of Ridley's sellers, and Ridley pays us, so leave him alone. That Koopa wasn't raping the girl, they were just role-playing. Slap him on the wrist for indecent exposure and set him free.

It made me sick.

I wondered any more if I still had the capacity to dream, to smile. It seemed the only source of hope and light in my life was Malon. That's something to live for, right? There's a future there, something to-

My thoughts got cut off as a hand emerged from an alley I passed my, grabbing my mouth. Another grasped my sword before I could grab it. "Come with me quietly. I promise I'm not out to hurt you, but we can't talk in the middle of the street."

With the phantom hands around me, I had no choice. I stepped into the darkness, noting the hands were wrapped in strips of white cloth that extended up the arm. Strange folk living in this town.

Finally the hands withdrew when we were safely in the alley, hidden by shadows. I still couldn't make out the strange person, not even a gender or general body type, the darkness keeping everything hidden. Just to be safe, I pressed my back against the wall of the apartment building and drew my sword.

"You can't go to the station," said the voice. It was certainly a fake one, sounding like a woman's crude imitation of a male voice, but I long stopped learning to trust the obvious. That in itself could have been a ruse.

"Why?" I didn't need someone to tell me in a room with corrupt cops was a bad idea, but that didn't make this tidbit of advice any less suspect.

"You're going to have two options waiting for you when you do. You'll either accept the corruption or you'll be shot."

"No, I'm leaving. I'm handing in my resignation and I'm leaving this city." I said the words not to placate this strange messenger, but just because the words themselves made my chest swell up with pride. I could live a normal life. Malon could live a normal life. The words sounded so great I wanted to repeat them.

"They won't take that answer, Link. You're too valuable. You've got a great shot with that bow and excellent sword skills. You're quite the hot commodity, and right now the gang lords need all the fighters they can get."

"No, I'm leaving. I'm handing in my resignation and I'm leaving this city." I repeated it, hoping with every fibre of my being that it would make things easier. I was worried about this exact thing; what if they did kill me? No questions, no warning, just a bullet to the head?

The shadowed figure scoffed. "This isn't about the city any more, Link. What used to be Hyrule has been levelled. Ganondorf's set up a crime empire there that's threatening to devour the table scraps this city will turn into. There's a war brewing, and if the world doesn't end after it's done, life's going to get a whole lot worse."

"No, I'm leaving. I'm handing in my resignation and I'm leaving this city." It was the only thing keeping me sane.

"Then go. Don't go to the station. Run back home, take Malon and whatever you can carry, and head west. The route through Kokiri forest isn't patrolled. Go through the forest and keep heading west until you come to Termina. There's hope there, hope that can save us from this war."

"Who are you?" I asked. I knew I shouldn't trust someone, but whoever this person was had given me the best advice possible, even if it was a lie.

"A friend. I don't have time to explain. Just go home now, take Malon, and flee. Don't wait until morning, they'll be sure to barrel down your door when you don't show at the station. Run!."

I ran. Termina was the province west of Hyrule, deemed unworthy of conquering by the king of the Mushroom Kingdom, and so it remained free, and at the moment my sole beacon of hope. I just had to get home and try to explain this to Malon. We were free. There was hope. Everything would be fine.

The dark, grime-stained streets ran by me as I raced down them. Freedom was in sight. There was hope. Everything would be fine.

Into the apartment building where I greeted the torn excuse for a carpet in the hallway with the joy of seeing an old friend once again. Everything would be-

The door. It was open. Just slightly, but it was open. Even if I left it open, Malon would have closed it.

No.

I drew my sword and kicked the door open, my eyes running across the apartment. It was lit as usual, but Malon wasn't there to greet me. A strange smell hung in the air. It was familiar, but my mind refused to tell me what it was, as if sparing me the pain of the truth. I ran into our bedroom, recoiling in horror at what lay before me.

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"The police aren't letting our cameras into the room, claiming it's too gruesome to air on television. What they will say is that Officer Link's wife was brutally tortured, bludgeoned with mallets, suspended from the ceiling with hooks, and possibly sexually mutilated. The police are not going into very much detail yet about the extent of mutilation, but one officer told me that they have never seen such a horrific scene."

It was on every channel; police officer's wife sexually tortured and killed. It was inescapable, story of the hour. Even in this back-end bar as I swallowed down some watered-down brew with disgust, it was on the television. They told me to get away from the apartment, to let them handle it. I was all too glad to; I knew damn well that they were involved. I would have to go down in the morning to make a statement, and that's when they'd make the offer. They wanted me gone so they could destroy the one good thing in my life. If they severed my tie to humanity, maybe things would change.

They were right. Things were going to change, but it wouldn't be that I would accept drug money.

It was time to clean up the streets of the Mushroom Kingdom.