Ichinaruko: Hey, I might like writing "gorn" as the internet calls it, but I'm trying to lay off that. It's like the sex scenes in DFW; I don't want it to be too gratuitous like in AT. Anyhow, yes, Minato and Akira were meant to contrast with one another. One is currently a powerful, aimless drifter who spent the last four years (It think it was four anyway) alone, while we have Akira who's young, more impulsive, definitely weaker, etc.
KingJGamer: I remember Sho, don't worry. Believe me, it's hard for me to forget the little bastard.
As of writing, I am now back in school for what will hopefully be my last year. No idea what's in store for me after or how long it'll be before I'm kicked out my home but whatever.
I think this is going to be a much shorter chapter than usual guys. This is mostly just build-up for the next one, as you'll see very soon.
The hound in black shivers, shrouded in darkness with only a few rays peaking through the cracks and crevices of this old hovel. But the blackness was preferable to the blinding light.
He learned quickly that the light only brings pain, and that pain was the last thing he needed—especially now.
Why did he have a girl with him? Was that girl related to his massacre?
For now, he could only keep his distance. The Champion had told him to stay away and not to fight him without his presence. Maybe the hound would get lucky, and Minato would end the dog's master's life on the spot.
No, that was far too hopeful. He wasn't eager to be reunited with disappointment's company so soon.
The hound placed a hand over where the mask covered his mouth, stifling a cough as his eyes glared at the door to the outside world.
He was running out of time.
Time, when was the last time he wasn't hearing he was running out? His first memories were hearing about how little time he had from the people in white, then from two people crying with one of them holding him tightly in their arms, and then by him before being permanently silenced.
With every movement he made, every muscle in his body screamed at him. With every breath, he felt the end coming closer. With every wound he suffers, he remembers what he is.
Such was the life of the boy no one knew, fit only to become a slave.
Such was the life of The Champion's dog.
Who are you?
It's a question that is cursed.
With every question, there is an answer. With every answer, there is a question.
But this question has no answer. You remember nothing of what you were, no matter how hard you try. All that you can remember is a single word echoing in your head.
"Joker."
There is someone with that name. Someone dares to don that damned name, someone that must die.
The Champion had pointed you to where you need to go. To the east, this person lies, protected in his guise by dozens of humans of shadows, all led by a false-god.
"Joker."
Dozen of shadows try to stop you from the moment you're awakened, but nothing but ash remains of them. Yaldabaoth is a fool for thinking that could even slow you down.
The humans try to stop you, but they're nothing more than walking sacks of meat. The snow is recolored crimson with your guns as the brush and them as the ink. Their effort was too pitiful to be considered even paltry.
But that's what you are. You never cared about the lives of others, and you won't start now.
You are the taker of lives, be it innocent or otherwise.
Reaper is what they call you now, and so to it, you must reap their souls.
"Joker."
And his is the one you will cherish most, his, and the one that dared to lock you away all those years ago.
Human lives are insignificant. They begin as nothing more than helpless, writhing sacks of flesh and bone. Decades later, their own bodies will no longer be able to perform the most basic of functions and thus leading to their expiration.
There is nothing wrong with what you do. Their lives are already destined to end. All you do is make sure it happens sooner and is far more expeditious.
"Joker."
"We ask that those not on official business, please return to your homes."
Akira listened to the man on the megaphone through the walls of his bedroom. Outside the window, he could see the massive crowds gather, each soul desperate to know what was going on and why.
They would always set-up checkpoints whenever they stole from them, but this was completely different. What began as strict enforcement became full-on martial law.
"What do you think happened?" Akira asked his feline friend.
"I dunno," Morgana replied, tilting his head with his gaze directed at those below. "I don't think it was us though."
"Still…" Akira shook his head. A lot of people were probably going to suffer for this, but there was nothing he could do.
The crowd will be dispersed eventually, and until then, he's going to have to find a way to get comfortable now that's he's all alone in his room with no one else but his cat.
"I'm taking a nap," Akira mumbled, leaning back into the wall, "wake me up if something happens."
"Joker."
You're getting closer, you know it.
The darkness envelops you, allowing you to remain hidden even among the white that blankets everything.
You lost your lower limbs a long time ago, so you need not worry about leaving any trails. They do not know where you are going, and so they have ordered everyone to remain hidden from you. But you can only hide from animals—none escape the reaper.
He lies in the ruined city that yet teems with life.
Stubborn lifeforms these humans are. But nothing escapes that reaper's claws. All must die; will die.
"Joker." Your voice is nothing but a whisper, but you still use it to repeat that name.
You continue to repeat that name, even as you destroy the barricades made to bar you.
You repeat it, even as you end the lives of everything the stands in your way. Shadow, humans, animals—they're all the same to you. The winter makes it easier for you; much harder to hide from you and less life is polluting the landscape.
You must destroy it all. You must see to it that there is nothing left but dust. Everyone must die.
A loud explosion pierced the air, awaking the thief from his slumber.
"Joker, we have problems!" Mona shouted, jumping in the air with every word as he stared wide-eyed out the window. "Big problems!"
Akira scrambled to get back on his feet, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins, dispelling any fatigue that might have remained.
Another explosion followed by screams came from outside, causing vibrations to channel through the floorboard and to his feet.
"Mona, what the hell is going on?!"
"I have no idea!" Morgana shouted, constantly shifting his position so that he could see what was causing the commotion. All he could see were dozens of people running, screaming, and piling up at the blockades.
The others were too far away to find from here, especially with this many people. That is, everyone except—
"We gotta find Futaba and Sojiro!" Akira said shouting, grabbing his bag with barely enough time for Mona to jump on his shoulder.
Akira was lucky the only way inside was through an alley, that made sure there weren't too many people blocking either his door or him trying to leave.
There was no way he was going to be able to get to Sojiro's through a crowd that dense. There was no way he could drag himself through a crowd that massive. The buildings were too small and spaced out to simply climb up to the rooftops.
The only way he's going to be able to move is if that crowd does.
They've put up all to stop anyone from getting through, and they seem to be holding out too. There are far too many people though, so many that no one was able to notice the foundation beginning to heat up just enough to weaken it so that the combined force of the mob could force the entire thing crumbling down.
"There we go," Akira said, smiling. It might take some time, but with the bulk of the crowd beginning to move, he might be able to push his way through.
That is until he heard the sounds of another mob approaching, having come from the other wall and seeing this one having been knocked down.
"Oh, crap!" Akira rushed back inside, barely managing to escape the oncoming stampede.
"That didn't go as planned," Akira lamented. "Okay, plan B then."
"What was plan A?!" Mona exclaimed in his ear as the boy placed his bag on the table, quickly searching through it.
"No, no, no…" he muttered, biting his lip as he continued to desperately search.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing!
He had almost completely given up hope until he felt a faint vibration at his fingertips.
"Bingo," Akira muttered, putting the item to his ear. "Oracle—Futaba, can you hear me?!"
"Akira?" Futaba's voice answered, instantly washing away several worries he had been carrying on his shoulders.
"Are you okay?" Akira asked, rushing upstairs to see if he could catch something—anything—out the window. "Where are you?!"
"Sojiro and I are still inside but—Akira, we can't get out!" Futaba explained, her voice starting to quicken, threatening to drive her into hyperventilation. "T-There are s-s-so many p-people a-a-and…"
"Stop, stop, stop!" Akira ordered, trying to ignore the screams from the people outside. "Listen, I need you to cut some of the cameras in the area, okay?"
Futaba didn't respond. All Akira could hear was her ragged breathing and her trying to regain control.
"Akira, are you serious?!" Mona already knew where this was going.
"Everyone's too much in a panic to be paying attention, and I need to figure out what the hell is going on here!" Akira barked back, loud enough to make even his friend quiver.
"O-Okay…" Futaba managed to breathe out, having finally regained some form of control of herself. "They're going to be on alert, so you need to be fast. I can give you ten seconds max."
"That's all I need." Akira opened his window, blue flame briefly engulfing him and revealing him to be in his Phantom Thief outfit. "You in, Mona?"
"I—We—but—Ugh, what the hell?" Mona relented, the azure inferno mimicking Akira's, transforming the seemingly ordinary pet into an anthropomorphic form. "I'm with you until the end, Joker."
"Almost," Futaba uttered, barely loud enough to hear. The moment she's ready, they're going to have to hurry.
There weren't too many on the street directly below, and anyone nearby is far too distracted for it to matter.
Yaldabaoth couldn't have done this—this was something new. What the hell was going on?
"Do it, Joker!"
Do they honestly think they have a chance?
The gnats surround you, continuing their futile efforts to send you back into your torporific state. But neither the gnats nor the shadows are of any inconvenience to you.
Their shadows had long since become shades of pink, each fighting for you. They kill the humans they had been serving with indiscriminately, from the ones that fire upon to the ones that try in vain to escape their fate.
You feel something hit you back and you're briefly obnubilated by smoke as you turn around. When the dust settles, you see another flock of humans. Cute, they thought explosives would work on you.
You raise your gun into the air and fire.
You watch the humans become veiled in a blinding blue light, and when the illumination dims, all that is left in their place is a massive crater and fallen buildings.
Wait, you feel something!
No, not just something—someone!
You can feel him!
You turn to the source, and there he is, standing there shocked as he gazes upon your form.
Your sole bloodshot eye cause his own to widen.
The ghostly form that floats above the ground beneath you leaves his knees trembling.
The bloodied sack that hides your face leaves his mouth agap, leaving him questioning if he was trapped in a nightmare.
But your voice—it's your cold, unnatural voice that forces his heart to sink as you say the name.
"Joker."
Well, this is bad.
I don't know what else to say here other than this is very, very bad. Good luck taking him on Akira! I'd say your odds are slim to none.
I didn't expect to be writing from Reaper's POV, to be honest, but it just sorta happened when I was writing. The same thing roughly happened with the "Champion's dog" as we'll call him for now, although his scene was pretty brief.