The War Within - 3
The early morning mist rose from the river, blanketing its surface in a thick layer of fog that stretched as far as the eye could see. But that did not stop the Capital's Harbor from continuing with its daily routine. With lamps and torches in hand that dimly lit their way, sailors and fishermen trekked through the low visibility port. Rats scurried around, their little claws creating fast tapping noises across the ever-moist, wooden planks, and the cats silently watched their prey from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Gulls and Crows pecked on the dead that littered the harbor, which would include humans if they weren't cleaned up overnight. The pungent odor of rotting organic matter of all kinds flooded the entire area, however, anyone that was down at the docks at this hour would've been used to it.
Orders from the multitude of captains rang out across the foggy port, with their crew yelling back responses. Some were loading up the ships while others were extracting the cargo. The horns of some ships blared out as they prepared to pull up their anchors. Crewmen unfolded the sails as the wind guided the ships down the river, to the estuary, and out to sea. It was only after the departure of the smaller sips did the larger ones leave. But the harbor was never empty, as every time one vessel left, another would take its place. This place was like a constantly rotating wheel, and it had to be, with the number of trade goods and other resources coming in every minute, the Capital's Harbor was one of the beating hearts of the Empire's economy.
From between two cargo ships, a small rowboat slipped through, slowly spouting out from the wall of mist. It bobbed up and down, uncontrolled from the churning waves created by the larger traversing vessels, however, the two people that were inside didn't seem to notice or perhaps care.
They were wearing dark-colored, full-bodied cloaks with hoods obscuring their faces. One was sitting down reading a book while the other stood with one leg on the bow of the rowboat with an oar in hand. The figure gently tossed the oar back into the hull as he looked up at the cargo ships as they passed by.
A few minutes later, the people working at the harbor saw the rowboat bumping against the docks. A look of confusion crossed their faces as they found no one inside but then shrugged it off as a lifeboat that got loose, or a fishermen's boat that was left untied and had now floated downstream.
Unbeknownst to any of them, the two cloaked figures had already slipped into a crowd of traveling merchants that were entering into the Capital through a giant, heavily guarded gate.
As if ghosts among men, they maneuvered through the sea of people, weaving like snakes in the undergrowth, unseen by the troops of soldiers stationed and patrolling at the gate.
When they saw that they were in the clear, the duo turned a corner and entered a dark alleyway. After looking back to check that no one had followed them in, they kicked off the walls and onto the tiles of the rooftops. With an incredible speed, they took off sprinting across the rooves, leaping across gaps between with ease, and vaulting over the obstacles in the way. As a sandstone tower appeared in their sights, the duo diverged their path towards it. The shorter of the duo didn't slow down as they approached and instead dashed up its side, running up the exterior as it were still the ground. The second cloaked being rushed in before springing up to the roof, one hand latched onto the edge before hoisting the body up into the air, and the cloaked figure flipped onto his feet as he landed. At the same time, the shorter cloaked figure appeared beside him after their running ascent.
The two of them crouched down at the edge of the tall building like gargoyles. From under their hoods, their eyes studied the area around them. Every movement, be it animate or inanimate, didn't escape their sight. Their ears picked up on every sound, every audible chatter, every clanging of the many types of equipment, or the noises of animals. At the same time they picked up on a myriad of scents, from sweet to spicy, from bitter to sour, but every time the tangy fragrance of blood was mixed in.
"This place… It hasn't changed," muttered the shorter cloaked figure who had a young, feminine voice.
"We shouldn't expect it to, it's only been a year...but then again, in this world we live in, a life can be flipped in a minute," the second one said before standing back up, "Anyway, let's go, the Palace is that way,"
His partner nodded before getting to her feet.
The duo leaped off the tower and landed softly on the rooftops below, before beginning to dash in the direction of the Capital's Palace. They started to slow down as they grew closer to the palace, if it weren't for the giant vibrant display of architecture that told them that their destination was close, then it would be from the number of soldiers scattered across the streets. There were even more watchtowers in this district of the Capital, prompting the duo to drop back to the ground and blend in with the ordinary citizens.
The male cloaked figure discovered two empty crates on the side of the street and decided that this would make for a decent disguise. He handed one to his female companion before lifting the crate to rest on his shoulder while the girl held the wooden box out in front of her. Within the usual suffocating crowd of people, the two looked as if they were traveling merchants looking for a good place to trade or a good inn to rest at. Their physical illusion went just as planned. Nobody suspected them for who they were, and none bothered to start a conversation with them.
"...cuse...me... Excuse me! Sir!?"
...Until now.
The two cloaked figures turned their heads and saw two people around their age looking at them with smiles on their faces. On the left was a young man with dark-brown eyes and short, dark, wild hair that was slightly tied under control by a white headband. Beside him was a girl with long, silky, black hair, dark-colored eyes, and had a white, flower hair clip on the right side of her head. Both of them wore long, black coats with furry edges, in addition, the boy had a heavy rucksack strapped to his back while the girl was equipped with a bow and half a quiver of arrows. From their appearance, the two cloaked ones could tell that those two had traveled far, as they had done also.
"Could I just have a moment of your time?" the boy with the headband requested as he smacked his palms together in front of him.
The cloaked duo exchanged glances before nodding.
"Great! Well you see, me and my friend are looking for the barracks so we can enlist to become soldiers," the headbanded boy explained, "Could you please point us in the right direction? We seem to have gotten lost,"
The girl suddenly piped up, "He means, we have gotten lost,"
"Y-Yeah," the boy chuckled slightly embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his head, "W-Well, is it possible that the two of you know the way?"
Truthfully, the cloaked male didn't know, he had never spent a good amount of time in the Capital and never had the need to so he never bothered to memorize the entire layout of the city. The mental map he had of this place was something he would have to find time to complete one of these days. His companion, on the other hand, raised her arm and pointed down a street.
"It's that way," she said, "I'm not sure which barrack you want to go to but the closest one is that way, two rights, a left, and go straight, always guarded by two soldiers at the front door. About a fifteen to twenty minute walk,"
"Oh really?! That's great! Thank you so much," the boy with the headband exclaimed, before beaming at them, "Hey, you two don't look that much older than the two of us and you already know this place so well, did you grow up here?"
"No, we're from a village out in the north, my sister and I are here to sell off a few of our local goods and send back the money," the cloaked male said as he improvised a lie.
"Really? That's so cool, me and her and another friend of ours are doing the same. Not the selling part but we will be sending money back once we earn enough," the headbanded boy told them, "It's nice and honestly kinda inspiring to see other country kids making it big in the city,"
"Ieyasu, c'mon, as much as it'd be nice to stay and chat, I heard those army enlistments are only open at certain time frames," the girl whispered impatiently in her friend's ear, "Let's get it done first before exploring, okay?"
"Oh, okay fine," the boy named Ieyasu grumbled before smiling back at the cloaked duo again, "Thank you very much for your help, we'll get going now, perhaps I'll see you two around?"
As Ieyasu headed off first, the girl bowed thankfully to the duo, "Sorry if I came out as a bit harsh back there with my words, but I really do appreciate your help,"
And after that, the two were gone, disappearing into the sea of people.
"Let's go too," the cloaked boy told his companion.
"Yeah, we've wasted enough time here," his companion agreed.
With the two of them disguised as merchants again, the duo made their way towards the palace and thankfully had no more interruptions along the way.
Soon, the towering iron gates loomed over them, connected to the giant foreboding wall that barricaded the palace. But the gates to the palace were shut tight most of the time, with every corner of the wall being heavily guarded. So the two of them stood back in the shadows as they surveyed the area, looking for any place of entry that wouldn't arouse suspicion or conflict.
"What are you thinking, brother?" the girl asked.
"No way for a direct approach without killing some of our country's soldiers," the boy, who was sitting on the crate he had been holding, replied.
"Perhaps we should wait until nightfall, explore the city for a bit to scout out the changes and rest up a bit, we've traveled far," suggested the cloaked girl as she placed her crate on the ground.
The boy shook his head, "We must report our status to Minister Honest as soon as possible, with our old base destroyed, this is the only place we can go now,"
"But the people here don't know us, our squad isn't or...wasn't public knowledge like the rest of the Empire's Assassination Units," countered the girl, "We'll be attacked on sight here, thankfully our clothing blends in with the night, we can sneak in then,"
"The Empire's higher-ups will recognize our masks," retorted the boy, "Besides I just thought of a way to get in,"
Still masked by her cloak, the girl raised an eyebrow as loose strands of snowy white hair fell out from under her hood, "What is it?"
"We go under," her brother answered, "From what I recall of our last time in the Capital, the city has a whole underground system, a reflection of the surface almost with slums, sewers, catacombs, all that. We just need to find the right tunnels that lead under the palace walls and we can make our way from there,"
The girl pondered on his idea for a couple of seconds before agreeing, "It could work, let's give it a shot. I saw a drain cover behind a building we passed by a couple of minutes ago, we could get in from there,"
The boy nodded, "Let's go then,"
The building in mention was a luxurious theatre where the rich would congregate for entertainment. Of course, plays, and circus acts would be the usual shows, however, there were rumors that more nefarious performances were happening behind the curtains, and only after dark, to an invited audience, was it shown on stage. The duo circled the building of performing arts and spotted a steel hatch in the sand-colored wall, hidden by a line of shrubs. The cloaked male pushed the plants aside as his sister paced up to the hatch. She lightly tapped it with her foot and echoing clangs responded to her touch. Then she brought one leg up before striking down and kicking open the hatch. Without wasting another second, she slid through the opening smoothly, followed by her brother doing the same.
As they landed they could hear the splashing of liquid under their feet and were met with the salty aroma of blood. To normal humans, the putrid, pitch-black environment of the underground tunnels would be suffocating and a traumatic experience if stayed in too long, with the strong stench, lack of visibility, and the fear of the unknown, slowly sending them into primitive madness. But for these two, their bodies had been enhanced, and their genetics modified, and along with their heightened senses, had no problem with traversing these types of terrains. The only thing hindering them now was that neither of them knew which direction to head toward, or which tunnels and turns to take. It was a dark labyrinth down there, and standing still wouldn't get them any closer to their goal and the two of them began to trek through the musty underground.
Rats scurried by their feet, and waste of all matter floated down the brown-green liquid muck. Occasionally, they would pass by dead bodies that were either starting to rot or were already decomposed, and the freshest of them were already half-eaten by the creatures of the sewer. It wasn't long before they came across one of the said creatures. It was a humanoid creature, with its smooth fungus-infected skin hanging loosely off its body, its eyes were pale and empty, and had multiple deformities across its body. It let out a low, scratchy, groan as it trudged through the tunnels as blood dripped from its mouth, filled with black, jagged teeth. As soon as it smelt the duo standing in front of it, it paused breathing heavily before breaking out into a charge as it screeched wildly. Its arms flapped awkwardly by its side as it ran.
"...Disgusting," the white-haired girl muttered.
"Want me to take this one?" her brother asked.
She shook her head, "No need,"
The moment the creature closed in, faster than anyone could blink, the girl lashed out with her feet and tore through the creature's neck. Its headless corpse fell to the ground as they heard the head splashing somewhere behind them. Bloodstained the tunnel walls and the girl shook the crimson liquid off her shoe before the duo kept traveling to their destination. They didn't even walk for more than two steps before the rats and other ravenous little creatures swarmed in to devour the body.
Minister Honest licked his lips, lapping up the red-purple wine that spilled from the corners of his mouth after chugging it down from the golden chalice he used. His white beard was dyed in the maroon hue of the alcohol, and he grinned as he looked at the group of scantily clad girls around him, serving his every need inside the bathhouse of the Capital Palace. The living source of evil, trailed his fingers up the thighs of the maid beside him, causing the poor girl to flinch at his touch but remained still, but shivering as the fear of the death of her family and herself took over her thoughts.
It was rowdy inside the bathhouse, multiple officials that were close allies of the Minister sat around the marbled interior, and similar to Honest, each official had a group of near-naked girls surrounding them, over half of them held once innocent eyes that had been extinguished by the monstrosities they had witnessed and fallen victim to ever since living in the Capital. Many of them were once naive village girls or overconfident women from the slums, trying to make it big in the rich districts. Only to have their fates twisted into being toys of pleasure for the ones in power. But their predicament was common, too common for anyone to care anymore. At this point, it was as natural as seeing a wolf tearing apart a deer, not that anyone outside of the Palace would be able to lay their eyes on such disturbing events in the first place. The parties and orgies that the Minister would hold were reserved for only the ones with the most power and money, and the ones that shared the same sick mindset as he did.
Minister Honest's fingers reached around the band of the maid's underwear and started pulling it down. The girl shut her eyes shut as she bit her tongue, the other maids looked at her with just enough empathy to be glad that they were not the ones in that predicament. Just as the Minister's closed in with his mouth. There were rapid knocks on the bathhouse door that caught his attention. Even in the noisy environment of the bathhouse, the Minister's senses were dialed up due to his wariness of possible assassination attempts on him, and the overweight man knew very well that he was number one on the kill list of countless amounts of people. The Minister stood up from his lounged seat and walked over to the door. Instead of opening it, he declared in a loud, clear voice.
"Who is it!?"
"Apologies to disturb you, sir, but two strangers are waiting to see you in your study," the voice of a butler replied.
"Strangers?" the Minister echoed with a raised eyebrow, "And you let them in?"
"No sir, I was just about to clean your study when I opened the door to see the two of them already in there, waiting for you sir,"
"...So they snuck in, is what you're saying,"
"Unfortunately so, sir,"
"How the fuck?" the Minister said in a low, growling rumble, "The Palace is meant to be the most secure place in the entire Empire...damn… What did they look like?"
"They were wearing cloaks, sir, dark ones," the butler explained from the other side of the door, "They also smelt a putrid as if they had slept overnight in the corpse of a dying animal,"
"That's it?" the old Minister questioned.
"Yes sir," the butler replied, "They also told me to pass a message onto you, well it was more of a word really, a number...Six,"
The Minister's saggy eyes widened as he heard it, and remained silent for a moment. He looked back at his allies enjoying their time with the maids, before weighing the positive and negative outcomes of his next moves.
"Sir? Are you okay? Would you like me to send them off?" the butler asked.
"No need!" the Minister replied as the door flung open, revealing his mostly naked self, if it wasn't for the towel around his waist, "I'll go see them for myself, then I'll deal with it personally, continue with your tasks,"
"Very well sir," the butler bowed before heading away.
As the steps of the butler faded, the Minister turned around to face the other officials of the Empire.
"My friends!" he announced, raising his arms towards the corrupted leaders of the nation, "Unfortunately I have some important business to attend to, but please, do not let my departure throw away the mood, relax, help yourselves, and drink to your heart's content!"
An overweight, balding man, who sat in the pool while slithering his hands all over a maid who was in a stupor, raised his glass to the Minister, "To Minister Honest, and may the Empire last another hundred years!"
The other officials in the bathhouse mirrored his actions.
"To the Minister!"
"Honest, you old lion!"
"Long live the Empire!"
Honest smirked as he pulled a robe off the hooks by the exit and headed out the door. A wet trail of footsteps shadowed him as he began to head for his office.
Slender, pale fingers bounced off the spines of the many books lined up on a towering shelf. Crystal blue eyes belonging to a delicately featured face traced the tapping fingers as they glided across the colossal collection of knowledge. Long, snowy white hair was freed from the confines of a cloth hood and flowed freely down her back with two thick strands framing both sides of her face. The rest of her small-framed body was still cloaked.
On the other side of the arch-shaped room, by an elongated, dark-wood desk, stood a young man with his hood pulled back revealing his rather disheveled, jet-black hair. His flame-colored eyes curiously scanned the contents on top of the desk, every document, every book, and everything else that he wasn't interested in. He flicked his gaze towards the girl by the bookcase.
"Find anything you like, sis?" he asked as he strolled to her side.
She hummed a reply, "Not really, I recognize most of them but none of them are worth re-reading. But it's quite a bizarre collection, the Minister's got,"
"How so?" the boy asked as he pulled out a random book and skimmed through the pages.
"Well, he's got a bit of everything; politics, geography, history, myths, fantasies, comedy, debauchery," the white-haired girl answered as she bent down to check the lower shelves, "Nothing I haven't seen before though,"
"You make it sound like you've read every book in the Empire," her brother chuckled as he slid the one in his hand back into its slot.
"That shouldn't be possible unless there was a mass burning that I didn't know about,"
"There are burnings of all kinds every hour of every day so, I wouldn't be surprised if it did happen,"
"Bummer…," she murmured then immediately perked up as her eyes locked onto something Ah, here it is!"
The black-haired teen raised an eyebrow, "An Atlas?"
"Not just an atlas, if I'm correct it was written way back during the first ten years of the current Imperial Rule. Look," the snow-haired girl flipped the cover around towards her brother and pointed to the numbers at the bottom corner, "See? The date, third year of the First Emperor,"
"Righhht, so it was the first one ever written, what's so good about it?"
The girl rolled her eyes, "Oh nothing much, just that it's the only one that has recorded all outside nations in vivid detail, from culture, terrain, creatures. The first emperor's reign turned this country into a bustling trading hub,"
"The complete opposite to what it is now," added her brother silently as he leaned against the bookshelf, watching his sister ecstatically flip through the pages.
Just then, the slight creak of the door handle alerted them and the duo immediately looked over to see the overweight Minister walking through the luxurious wooden doors. A wicked grin crossed his face when he laid his eyes on them.
"You live, I suspected as much, Old Fashio's creations don't expire easily," said Honest, closing the door behind him.
The duo, in sync, lined up and bowed the Minister with a hand over their chest.
"A-21 and H-31 of The Apex Six greet you, Minister of State Honest," they announced simultaneously.
"Six?" Honest snorted, "But I only see two of you standing in front of me, you know, Fashio went silent the same year as his death, and after turning his building into a full-on human experimentation facility, we received no further records or updates on what your squad was up to. A whole year, almost two of silence, and then I hear that your headquarters were destroyed in a heavy avalanche, only last week, apparently caused by a Frost Wyvern and now two of you appear in my study and ask one of my servants to fetch me. Perhaps you can fill me in on that blank year and a half,"
"Of course, sir," said the young man, as he and his sister straightened up, "My memory of that time period is a bit hazy but I'm sure my sister can grant the answer you seek,"
"I don't care who," Honest grumbled as he sat down on the large, leather recliner behind his desk, "Just tell me,"
"Very well sir," A-21 said as she stepped forward, "In truth, two years ago our squad was struck with internal strife, we were about to be deployed to assist in the war with the north when one of our family defected to the Revolutionists, which sparked the first cinders of our infighting…"
As she continued to explain their situation to the Minister, H-31 started to filter out her words as he stared out the window at the breathing city below.
"...And as a result of the tremors and avalanche created by a Frost Wyvern, we were freed from cryostasis and decided to make our way to the Capital to await our next mission,"
"The old flamingo really put you all into cryostasis," the Minister snorted as he shook his head, "Heh, I knew that his research was going to drive him mad, and that was his undoing. Well, at least he managed to pass the Perfector to Stylish before his death,"
"The professor was possessive of us, treated us like his children," A-21 continued, "I suspect he kept us frozen so none of us would leave for the Revolutionary Army,"
"Sounds like a crazed Fashio thing to do, he was already possessive and clingy to the things he liked before," commented Honest, as he raked his hands through his beard, "So only the two of you remain?"
"Not quite," this time H-31 spoke up, "Our older brother, R-41. He was put into the tank next to us so when the building came down it wouldn't have crushed him, but we were separated by a fallen wall. Other than that, he's the strongest of the Apex Six, we know he's alive, we just don't know his current location,"
"Knowing him, he should be heading for the Capital too," added A-21, "Perhaps he's already within the walls,"
"And that leaves me with three, half of the original squad," said Honest, "...Disappointing… well I guess it is to be expected, the lifespan of these Assassination Squads are never that long,"
"And as long as we breathe, we're still active," said the white-haired girl, her brother nodded beside her.
"That's true," agreed the overweight minister and he tapped the side of his head as he was in his thoughts. Then at last, "I could always put the three of you into the Dark Squad...but they already have a large number of members. However, I don't want to waste your unique talents on a regular squad,"
"If I may request this sir, but I would like to remain with my brother and sister," H-31 spoke up, "We trained together and know each other's strengths, weaknesses, and fighting styles better than anyone. Splitting us up will only slow down the progress the Empire has made with the Assassination Squads,"
"My brother is right, sir," said A-21, "And if you don't believe us, I'm sure the old professor would've mentioned it in one of the reports he sent you,"
Honest was quiet, his beady, sinister eyes stared directly at the duo. The Minister didn't expect them to back down completely but was surprised when his challenging, cold, threatening gaze failed to even conjure up a flinch, or a twitch of a muscle from them. Instead, H-31 and A-21 simply stared back, completely unfazed, and looked at him as if he were just another person they would pass on the streets. His position meant nothing to them. An empty title that just so happened to be puppeteering the child emperor to create his perfect empire. Honest, knew that the duo didn't see him as a threat. He smirked, he had read the reports on these Hybrids. The only thing they really seemed to care about was to complete contracts, not caring if the targets were of low or high value. They didn't care if it was a peasant living in the slums, or the king of another country. Man, woman, children, they didn't care, a contract is a contract, and a target is a target.
This coldness was conditioned into their system from a young age of ruthless experiments and training.
"Very well," said Honest as he stood up from his seat, "I'll keep your squad together. It's convenient for me too, I'll have the two of you start tonight,"
From under a pile of paperwork, Honest pulled out two parchments.
"I know from old Fashio's reports and his drunken mouth, that each one of you is capable. We've even expanded the Empire's borders because of your team," the Minister walked forward and handed the two parchments to the duo, "But I'm afraid that a year in ice might've hindered your skills, go and get warmed up with the blood of these two people. Oh, and don't do it in the shadows, these people are...special and I want an example set. When you're done, meet me back here, there's an infestation of traitors to exterminate. We have lots to do,"
H-31 looked down at the parchment in his hand, it was an assassination contract, and it had been a little over a year since the last time he laid his eyes on one and felt the coarse paper sliding through his fingers.
"Contract Accepted," the duo declared together, before slipping out of the room through an open window.
"Good good," the Minister evilly smirked as he rubbed his hands together, "Fashio once told me that there's a price to pay for their power. Eating human flesh to keep the inner beast tamed. Ha! Then it must be like a banquet for them every day here,"
In the cover of a moonless night, he found himself back at the harbor, crouched down perfectly still on top of a slate rooftop overlooking the docks, with a tabby cat keeping him company. The little feline was gnawing on a rodent it had dragged up. The soft crunching noises were peaceful in comparison to the chaotic, bustling sounds of the docks. The strong fishy stench floated into his nose, but his orange eyes remained focused on the lively scenery below. Seconds turned into minutes before he finally stood up, startling the cat who bolted away with the rat carcass danging from its jaws.
The target wasn't in the vicinity.
Perhaps elsewhere, the harbor was the size of a small town, the night was still young, and the assassin's hunt had only just begun.
The buildings of the harbor were built fairly compactly to each other, so traversing from the rooftop wasn't difficult as the gaps weren't as wide as the ones within the city walls. There were a couple of areas where the assassin had to make a long jump but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. This had been his life for as long as he could remember and had gotten used to adapting to new situations quickly. Compared to the missions he and his squad were sent on in the past, the current task was like taking a walk in the park.
His footsteps were barely audible as he bounded from building to building, making sure to remain unseen while scanning the crowds for the target. If he was lucky, the target will be outside, and the worst-case scenario was that the target will be indoors, somewhere in the maze of tall houses by the waterside.
H-31 came to a slow stop and surveyed the area below once again, and as he suspected, no sign of the one he must eliminate. But he would wait all night and into the sunlit morning if he had to.
A contract must be fully completed down to every detail before returning to the contractor. He was trained to behave this way and had already experienced staying awake for days on end for the sake of his and his squad's survival. A couple of extra hours wouldn't faze the assassin at all. For years these were basic occurrences he had to deal with as this was his job...and the only life he knew.
Just when he was about to move on to the next location, something caught his eye.
A middle-aged captain just exited a tavern. He was tall and had a groomed, trimmed beard. Along with the usual sailor's attire, he had a thick fur jacket that kept him warm from the ocean winds, and a captain's cap sat comfortably on his head. In his mouth, he held a lit cigar, and the captain looked around warily for proceeded down the path to the docks, accompanied by a couple of armed men who were more likely than not to be part of his crew.
'Target located,' the assassin announced in his mind.
From his position, H-31 could strike, but it would be a messy and noisy kill, and he didn't want to spend the rest of the night getting the guards off his trail, nor did he want to eliminate anyone that wasn't contracted. The second option was to wait a little longer for the best moment to assassinate the man. Both were simple options, only the latter would test one's patience and self-control. The assassin slowly tailed the captain from above, taking his time as he watched the target's every move. When they stopped, the black-haired teen would stop. When they started to move, so would he.
After what felt like the entire night, the captain finally started to stroll back to his ship. A large cargo vessel already fully stocked with goods and armed to teeth with cannons. Defense against pirates and aquatic Danger Beasts no doubt. From his location on top of the roof of the dockmaster's building to the target's ship, there was enough space to slot in another seven houses. With a running start, Hei kicked off the roof and sailed quietly through the air, landing on the mast, quiet as a stalking cat. He perched upon the mast and looked around for his target again, and luckily, the captain was wandering around right below him.
Killing a person was one thing, assassinating a target was another. Especially if the latter's contact had attached requirements in order for the client to pay in full, and this time their client was the Minister of State.
The old man's words echoed in Hei's mind, 'Don't do it in the shadows. I want an example set,'
Not his preferred style, but perhaps he can find a way to work around it. Besides, drawing from previous experience examples can always be set after the target was dead.
Which meant, for now, there was another waiting game to play. Opportunities to strike rise and fall like the gentle waves close by.
Fortunately, the assassin did not need to wait for long.
The captain who had been conversing with the crew that surrounded him had now separated and was walking off on his own towards another part of the ship.
High up on the masts, H-31 trailed after until the captain came to a stop. The older man leaned against the railing of the vessel staring out towards the sea, and from underneath his coat, he pulled out a flask of whisky. He popped the cap off with his teeth before spitting it in the water, then he took a large swig.
The moment the assassin had been waiting for has arrived.
While he was still perched on the mast above, H-31 reached inside his cloak to equip his black and white mask, and the small, lensed eyeholes gave off a brief red glow the moment the mask touched his skin.
Then he lifted an arm slightly and tensed the muscles in his wrist. A flame-colored tip of a blade started to pierce smoothly through the skin of the underside of his wrist. The blade kept extending until it fully emerged, the size of his hand and the assassin. Its fiery gleam made it look as it had been left in a forge for too long, molten but frozen. The young assassin gripped the blade by its flat sides
He raised the blade, and with blinding speed jabbed his arm downward in the direction of his target. The glowing blade shot and tore through the air without the faintest whistle to signal its presence. Tailing it was a black rope that looked to be a flexible metallic hybrid between the body's nerves and blood veins, and the wire and plant-based material used to craft the real thing.
It was as if the captain's neck was made from wet paper as the blade pierced through his nape with ease. The captain lurched forward as he spat out a mix of fresh whisky and blood as the flask dropped from his hand, shattering on the deck of his vessel. The assassin kicked off the mast and descended to the deck in an instant, the planks of the deck cracking slightly from the impact. He subsequently switched positions with the captain as the old sailor was wrenched high into the masts, a trail of crimson fluid flew after him. The assassin could hear the target choke and sputter for a couple of seconds longer before there was silence and the life in the captain's tired eyes seeped away.
With a clench of his fist around the rope dart, the weapon glowed as it turned into glowing molten and the assassin pulled the end of the dart out of his wrist. When the burning illumination began to simmer, the assassin attached the loose end of the weapon to the railing of the ship.
As he was about to head off, he caught sight of the pool of spilled alcohol next to him. A brief thought crossed his mind and once again produced a heated blade out from his wrist. H-31 knelt and slashed at the liquid, which immediately burst into flames that spread quickly across the wooden surface of the vessel. The assassin retracted the weapon before reaching into the blaze and seemingly grabbed a hold of the fire. In three throws, two to the mast and one to the other side of the ship, the vessel was trapped in a firestorm. The smoke rose high into the air and the burning ship attracted the attention of everyone at the port like moths to a light. Screams of terror and screaming orders to put out the flames spread through the port just as fast as the wildfire. Alarm bells went off and the sound of scurrying men, women, and the small creatures of the docks rang through all night long.
With his job done and the "example" set, H-31 retreated from the scene, his escaping figure masked by the mixed darkness of the moonless midnight and black smoke.
On the other side of the Capital, on the border of the middle-class districts and the slums stood several buildings that made up a red light zone. Brothels lined the streets and scantily clad men and women stood at their entrances enticing potential customers inside. Others that were affiliated to themselves stood near the alleyways waiting for someone to sell their bodies to. The streets of the zone were patrolled heavily by guards but everyone knew that their abundance was never for the reason of security.
There was one particular building, constructed to resemble a wooden watchtower with decorative lights hanging on each corner of each floor. It was a popular brothel named, "The Peacock's Nest," owned by a young businessman and son of a decently-ranked official known as Avery.
A man who might not get the chance to breathe the next morning's air, as a masked, white-haired assassin had him in her sights.
A-21 had infiltrated the brothel rather easily through the open windows at the top of the tower. If it weren't for her mask, the scent of opium would've been nauseating. It was at times like these that the heightened senses granted by her - forcefully - modified genetics became more of a burden than a gift.
The young female killer, however, was nothing like her brother when it came to the philosophy behind the art of assassination. Although a master at staying unseen, she never enjoyed sticking to the shadows. After all, a dead target is still a dead target no matter what methods it took to get there.
As soon as Avery was clear from customers and workers, A-21 dashed forward at a blinding speed. From her lower back, a single, extra appendage that looked to be a large, blood-red, spider's leg, shot out towards the brothel owner. The man barely had time to react as the sharp and serrated tip of the appendage tore through his skull. Blood and bits of brain splattered across the wall next to them as the young man's slowly cooling body dropped dead on the ground. The white-haired assassin removed her additional arm out of Avery's skull and flicked the blood off before retracting it back into her body.
The young killer grabbed the leg of her freshly killed target and tossed the body over the edge. The corpse of the brothel owner crashed on the first floor of his brothel, sending waves of shocked and scared screams ringing throughout every floor of the tower. But no matter how hard they searched each room, A-21 had already exited the premises and was already on her way back to the palace to report back.
With the first light of dawn being only a few hours away, the assassin duo, who had met up a moment before, scaled the walls of the palace and slipped past the guards and traps protecting the royal fortress. As they carefully made their way into the palace's training courtyard, a shortcut back to the Minister's office, something had caught their attention and the two came to a halt.
A large imposing man stood in the center of the courtyard, his bulky arms folded across his chest. His short, spiky blond hair with horn-resembling bangs stood out in the dark as well as the shine of the heavy gray armor he donned. His hands and forearms were also equipped with a pair of intricately-designed black and gold gauntlets.
The two assassins could see the glint in the hulking man's sharp, serious eyes.
Within the empty, sandy, arena, the three of them stood still, staring and observing the opposing party.
A-21's blue eyes narrowed as she noticed the gauntlets.
"Brother," she whispered, "His hands,"
"Yeah, I see them," The black-haired teen replied in a similarly quiet tone, "A Teigu… No one but the Minister knows about our return. Whoever this is must think we're intruders, keep your guard up, be ready to fight,"
"I know," the white-haired girl subtly nodded.
The heavily armored man lowered his arms and in the same second the assassin duo jumped back, slipping into their fighting stance. H-31's stance was noticeably closer to the ground with his legs opened wider, whereas A-21's stance was more upright and her limbs were closer to her body.
The blonde-man blew air through his nose, "I know what you two are and I'm not here to fight, so you can ease up, Apex Six,"
"Who are you?" H-31 asked without loosening his stance.
"I am General Budo," the man replied calmly, completely unbothered by the fact that two assassins were standing in front of him, "Minister Honest has other...business to attend to, but before he left he appointed me to be your squad's new supervisor after that old madman Fashio died. Meaning that every contract, every mission will be briefed and reported to me. Including the ones you have just completed,"
His words seemed to have calmed the duo down as they lowered their arms.
"Follow me to my study and we'll discuss it more there. Even the walls of the palace have ears," said Budo as he turned around, a brief gesture of his hand signaled for them to catch up.
The General's office was unsurprisingly next to the training ground and only a small distance away from the main barracks. The heavy doors swung open as the three of them walked into a spacious room. Bookshelves lined the walls, and racks of weapons and armor accompanied them. The pelts of large, dead, Danger Beasts were spread across the tile as rugs.
"You can take your masks off," the General told them as he walked up to a large circular desk in the middle of the room., 'No need to wear them in here,"
"Very well," H-31 replied as he and his female companion removed their masks and attached them to the red sash underneath their cloaks.
As they were busy with that, Budo pulled out a stack of papers and folders, spilling them on the table. His stern eyes flicked up at the duo before diverting back down at files as he began to flip through them. Several minutes of silence later, Budo raised his head to look at the two assassins once again.
"Black hair, orange eyes," the General began, narrowing his gaze at the teenage male, "You must be H-31, formerly known as Hei, correct?"
"Yes, sir," Hei replied with a brief nod.
"Third member of the Apex Six. Total amount of completed contracts: Three-hundred and nineteen. Incompleted contracts: Three. Estimated kill count: Somewhere above the two-thousand five-hundred range. Assisted in the collapse and conquer of the Western Nation. And finally, it says that the Danger Beast that you now share blood with is The Dracopede,"
"Yes, that's me,"
"I've never heard of a Dracopede,"
"They're...exotically rare and elusive," said Hei.
"Going from records alone the last time a Dracopede was recorded in the borders of the Empire was during the time of the first emperor. A gift from a distantly allied country," added the white-haired girl.
"I see," Budo hummed before turning his attention to the girl, "White hair and blue eyes, that must make you, A-21, formerly named Azi,"
"Affirmative, sir," Azi confirmed with a slight bow.
"Second member of the Apex Six. Total amount of completed contracts: Three-hundred and thirty. Incompleted contracts: One. Estimated kill count: Lower two thousand range. Also assisted in the collapse and conquer of the Western Nation. The Danger Beast that you fused with is known as, The Herrscher of Toxin,"
Azi nodded at his information.
Budo furrowed his brows, "Never heard of that Beast either," he mumbled.
"It's not a native creature," the white-haired assassin answered.
"I see...Well, we can discuss the past and Danger Beasts another time, for now, we're to debrief the newest contracts you two just completed," Budo pulled two sheets of paper out of the pile, "The targets you just took out were, Seahound, the Captain of the cargo vessel, Gold Manta, and Avery, the owner of The Peacock's Nest. Both had...converted to the side of the Rebels for a little while now, and they acted as their eyes and ears inside the Capital walls. Seahound smuggled weapons, information, and all sorts of other resources out to the Revolutionary Army with every trip he took. Avery would house other Revolutionary Spies in his brothel and would also sometimes take part in smuggling wanted people out of the city. His network of information was getting larger much too quickly and needed to be taken out. He knew too much and had to be silenced in order to take the secrets he knew to the grave with him, better that than in the hands of the enemy,"
"We don't care who the person is, man, woman, senior, child, beast. As long as they've been contracted," Azi folded her arms under her chest, "We'll exterminate them,"
"Good," Budo responded as he relaxed his frame, "Take the rest of the day and tomorrow off. We'll start eliminating more the enemy and put the rebel terrorists to an end the day after,"
"Yes sir," the two saluted simultaneously.
"Come," the General marched towards the door and pushed it open, "Your quarters have already been prepared, I'll show you where they're located,"
"Strap him down!" Fashio ordered, a clipboard in hand as he scribbled notes onto the papers attached, "The kid has gotten stronger in these two years, make sure it's tight. We don't want another escape incident like S-61,"
"LET ME GO!" Hei yowled as he thrashed around, kicking and struggling in the iron-grip hands of the soldiers that were dragging him to a white, rectangular table.
"TODAY'S MY REST DAY! OR HAVE YOU GONE SO SENILE THAT YOU'VE FORGOTTEN THE SCHEDULE THAT YOU SET YOURSELF!"
Standing against the walls of the room were Fashio's league of scientists, most of them were cowering and looking for the comfort of cover. They knew what they were creating for the last two years and the results were starting to show.
"Professor," one of the scientists shuffled over to his boss, 'Perhaps we should stick to the regular schedule, aggression readings in all candidates have spiked immensely since the last fusing,"
"Certainly not!" Fashio snapped back, "We hadn't made a breakthrough for months, and then after the recent fuse suddenly A-21, O-11, C-83, and P-46 showed signs of regeneration. Do you know how important this is?! Every subject must undergo this test and that is final!"
"Y-Yes sir," the scientist sunk back to his spot.
Several loud clunks brought their eyes back to the table, where Hei was locked in with heavy steel cuffs over his torso and limbs.
"Ah lovely, let's get started," Fashio said in a spine-chilling, delightful tone, "You two go wait at the door," the professor waved the guards off then twirled his wrist to signal the scientists to join him.
"Subject: H-31. Danger Beast DNA extracted from incomplete Teigu: Dracopede. Current compatibility rate: 51%. Known abilities: Increase in speed, strength, pain tolerance, and all basic senses. Unbothered by high temperatures," The crazed professor said, outlining the information on his clipboard, "Possible new abilities that will need further observation and experimentation include: Seemingly able to emit intense heat from his body. Possible immunity to flames. And… Regeneration,"
"What are you doing!?" Hei growled.
However, the professor ignored him and turned to the scientist beside him, "Let's start small, give him a small cut on his fingertip,"
The scientist nodded and picked up a scalpel. The sharp point of the blade pierced the skin on Hei's finger as the man drew a small red line of blood down the tip of the boy's finger. Almost immediately the skin regrew over the tiny cut and it was as if it had never happened in the first place.
"Regeneration Level: 0.5. Mark it down," Fashio ordered, "Next try cutting off a finger, his index,"
"What?" scowled Hei.
But before he had a chance to process the professor's words, a larger surgical knife sliced through the knuckles of his finger. Blood flowed freely from his forced wound for a minute longer before the nub started to stretch and stretch until the index finger returned, dripping from fluids.
"Regeneration Level 1. The other candidates showed the same results up to now… Perhaps we should speed things up a bit with Subject H-31…," Fashio muttered as he tapped his pen against the clipboard before he ordered, "Break his legs, then slice them off,"
His workers looked at him in shock, their mouths agape.
"But sir, that's skipping five maybe even six levels," one argued, "H-31 is the only Dracopede candidate left, if we lose or cripple him, we'll lose all the progress we made with him,"
"We won't make any further progress if we don't take risks, now will we?" Fashio shot back.
"Very...V-Very well sir,"
As a scientist raised a hammer over Hei's knees, he looked at the boy from under his lab goggles, "I'm sorry child," he whispered. And two loud, sickening crunches filled the room.
Hei's eyes shot open, his flame-colored gaze flickered around until he remembered where he was. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his face. It had been around seven to eight years since that experiment took place. Although his legs did grow back, it took nearly two months to do so. Several of the experimentations before that one were far more agonizing, so the pain of losing two limbs for a while didn't affect him that much, physically at least. During that time his mental health was somewhere else. It didn't help that he was locked in a pure white room the entire time he was healing either.
He looked over to the bed next to him where Azi was asleep, her snowy hair spilling across her pillow and quilt. The girl had taken just as much pain if not more within that facility. He had no idea what kind of tests they put her through, only that she, in the end, was the sole survivor of the Herrscher cell. The only bright side of that horrid place that Hei could remember were his five surviving companions. As the only survivors and eventual members of their own squad, they treated each other as family members, brothers, and sisters, to fill in the gaps they never had or lost. In their small family of six, Azi was the youngest, followed by Hei.
"You can't sleep either?" the girl suddenly spoke, startling the black-haired teen.
Hei quickly calmed himself before responding, "Not anymore,"
"...Sorry," Azi mumbled into her pillow.
"Don't worry it wasn't you," Hei lightly chuckled before staring down at the carpet, "I just...remembered something, in my dream,"
"It was of that place wasn't it?" said Azi as she rolled over to face her adopted brother, "I get those too,"
"All of us do...did,"
"Yeah," the white-haired girl nodded solemnly, "...They're free now, free to explore the world however they want,"
"...I miss them," she added quietly as tears began to form at the corner of her eyes.
"I do too,"
Suddenly, Azi burst out of her bed and wrapped Hei in a tight embrace. Tears flowed freely out of her sapphire blue eyes as she sobbed loudly into his chest. The black-haired teen gently rubbed her back as her sniffles continued.
"I r-really… T-This place...reminds me of...a-all those times we...W-Why?... Why did they have to… They...they should be here...with us," said Azi between breaths, until she broke down again. Her brother remained still and moved his hand from her back up to her head, and started to softly stroke her, silky snow-colored hair.
"This world did that to them, Azi. That's why we have to work even harder to make it right," he told her in a whisper, "Don't worry, when Rai gets here things will get easier and we'll make quicker progress. Before you know it, we'll be in that peaceful world...you'll see,"
With her head still buried in his shoulder, Azi nodded wordlessly.
The next morning a group of young men and women marched through the halls of the palace. They all donned a black variation of a school uniform with many of the teenagers wearing masks that hid the top of their face. Swords, spears, axes, and bow and arrows were the weapons they utilized, and the individual's choice was strapped to their bodies.
The Dark Squad, since the disbandments of both the Elite Seven and Group of Terror, this group was the Empire's only remaining Assassination Team, and similar to their predecessor team Group of Terror, the members of Dark Squad had regular doses of performance-enhancing drugs.
They had just returned from a mission, which was more often than not, purging Revolutionist camps and the villages that supported them. Even the dried blood of their victims still remained on several of the members' hands.
Hei was heading towards General Budo's study to receive the newest set of contracts. He took a glance at the team as they passed by each other in the hallway, several of the Dark Squad met his gaze briefly before turning away.
'Must be new,' he thought nonchalantly as he directed his focus back onto his path.
Unbeknownst to him, a single member of the Squad slowed down her steps. It was a petite, katana-wielding girl who was hugging a bag of cookies. She had short black hair with loose twin-tails and black eyes. She turned to look back as Hei's figure disappeared around a corner.
The girl raised a cookie to her mouth and bit it in half as she stared at the last known location of the orange-eyed assassin.
"Kurome!"
The black-haired girl spun her head towards the one who called her. A young man in his late teens, but his face looked as if he was forty years older due to a side effect from taking the Empire's drugs.
"What's wrong?" the male asked her.
Kurome shook her head and responded monotonously, "Nothing Kylie,"
Kylie raised his eyebrow but shrugged and began walking back toward the Squad, "Alright, just try not to fall behind, we have another task to do after handing in this one,"
The girl simply nodded before following, albeit hanging back a little. As they were turning a corner, Kurome took one last glance behind her.
'...He looked familiar…,"
The War Within - 3
Hope you enjoyed Chapter 3.
Thank You For Reading, Until Next Time!