Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

VENGEANCE

Three Star Master Meister Maka Albarn stood at the steps of Shibusen, waiting. Her mind drifted without permission, returning her to the balcony of the night before. Anxiously, she exhaled, but her stress wouldn't dissipate.

She started at the hand that had crept onto her shoulder, turning to find a different person staring back at her. "Rex," she sighed, shifting his hand aside.

"Cheer up, Maka. Don't worry. He'll get here when he can."

What if he doesn't want to come back? "I guess you're right…"

"I know I'm right. He can't ignore a direct order from Shinigami-sama, not if he's even as half as cool as you told me he'd be."

Despite his monotone expression, Rex's grey eyes watched the sky intently, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. It hadn't taken Maka long to learn he hid his clenched fists there. Standing perhaps an inch taller than Maka, nothing stuck out about this unassuming and average man.

"Thanks, Rex," Maka bid, smiling menially.

Nudging his partner with his shoulder, Rex winked, forcing Maka to suppress a grin and a chuckle.

Playfully, she elbowed him back. "Are you heading home?" she asked.

"I was thinking about it, but, I might as well stick around. I'd be bored, no matter where I go, so…"

"Thanks," Maka repeated, this time, with conviction.

"No problem," he shrugged "Uh…" Rex cleared his throat. "We should, er, probably get inside. Looks like the sky's gonna burst."

"Yes. Let's go find Kid. Maybe he can update us."

"I hope so…" Rex muttered, eyeing the distant flashes as the clouds crawled across the night sky.

Block by block, street after street, Lord Havok Prowler wandered aimlessly in his seemingly fruitless search.

"Hard to believe everything's changed so much," he murmured to himself. "But then this place never really felt like home…"

Ignorant of the cold, Havok turned another street corner, passing a sturdy lamp post. Its caged flame seemed to squirm in the darkness before dying in the face of the passing shadow. Under the cover of the New Moon, Havok's Queen stalked her faithful servant as he continuously cast his eyes down the various alleyways, and side streets, dotted amongst the tightly packed houses.

"Ah, here it is," Havok sighed, stopping at 14 ELM STREET. Home sweet Hell. He scoffed at the memory, ferreting in his pockets for his old key. Who said the past doesn't come back to haunt us, huh? "Hmph...? My old man's changed the locks. Why would he do that…?"

Hesitant, Havok stood like a statue, arm raised to knock, until he wrapped his knuckles on the wood. He listened to the hallow echo and waited. He knocked again. Maybe this was a mistake... A dim light flickered into life on the second floor, left-hand-side window, followed by a second light on the right. Gradually, a pair of feet crept towards the door. A face older than memory stared back at him through the frame he parted. "H-Havok…?"

"Dad," he nodded awkwardly. "Mind if I come in for a moment?"

Havok's father unbolted the ball-and-chain lock and flung the door open. Havok slipped inside and turned back to face his father. Life had been kind. But before he could voice the compliment, a pair of strong arms swept him into a nostalgic embrace. Havok returned the favour. The living room clock dragged its hands lethargically as if complaining for the untimely interruption.

"Havok…wh-what are you doing here? It's been 4 years!"

"I know, dad. I know. When I left, I told you I was going to do something with my life, something great. And I have! I wanted you to come see my work for yourself, to meet my friends and –"

"Talon, who's at the door?"

"Oh, God! Malcolm. Malcolm! You won't believe this. It's Havok!" the old man rejoiced, racing to greet his friend descending the stairs. "Havok, you remember my old Meister, Malcolm, right?"

"Of course I remember uncle Marco!"

"Havok! Where on Earth have you been?" Malcolm greeted, hobbling over to greet his unofficial nephew, his tired face exploding into a rejuvenating grin.

"Everywhere! I've got loads to tell you, and even more to show you," Havok celebrated.

"Havok, you're timing isn't the best," Malcolm scowled painfully, leaning against the staircase banister.

"I know it was whimsical to just show up out of nowhere, but –"

"Havok, you don't understand," his father interrupted, his face as grave as his voice. "It may not look like it, but the world's tumbling into chaos!"

"Yes! Exactly! That's what I wanted to talk to you about!"

"Havok, I don't follow," Talon admitted, pacing back to his son's side.

"Dad, I'm one of the Five Lords of Chaos!"

Malcolm stretched, gripping his partner's shoulder tightly. "Talon –"

"Now's not the time for jokes, Havok. This is serious."

"I am being serious, dad. My friends and I, we found the Shadow Queen! We resurrected her. We freed her!"

Talon clamped his son by his shoulders. "Tell me you didn't," he begged. "Please. Please tell me you didn't fall for her Witchcraft!"

"You – I – I did this for you!" Havok raged, rattling the shelves. Several dishes clattered to the floor; the walls seemed to shift, and photo frames committed suicide, shattering on impact.

"Havok, listen to me," Talon pleaded, taking his son's face in his hands. "We can fix this. Tell us everything and we can fix it!"

"I don't want to fix it!" he yelled, slapping his hands aside. "I love my job. I love my Queen! And…and so should you!"

Talon and Malcolm turned at the flickering hall light, their paranoia coursing through the blood and consuming the minds. They turned back to find a pair of deathly pale arms coiling around their guest's waist. Her flesh seemed to melt, decomposing into the shadows from whence she came. Havok glared accusingly at his hosts, his eyes blackening.

"We can't let them live, Havok," she hissed, whispering in his ear.

"I know."

"Havok –"

"You know what you have to do."

"Havok, don't listen to -"

A single punch left Malcolm sprawled on the carpet, chocking on his own blood. "Even you're against me?!"

Talon countered, kicking his son back against the wall, his feet crushing the fallen glass. "Listen to us, Havok. We don't want to hurt you," he heaved, shielding the blades that ejected from his flesh.

Havok's laugh was manic. It graduated, escalating in sound as he stood. "Hurt me? You made my life a living hell!" He panted, wiping, licking the blood from his jaw and savouring the taste. "So, I think it's only fair to share the nightmare," he snarled.

Striding forth, stretching an arm back, grasping a handful of shadow, Havok held his Queen. The hall light flickered frantically, suddenly rocking left and right before it toppled over. Darkness entombed the two floored terrace house the instant the bulb smashed. Overhead, the sky grumbled. Havok opened the door to a brilliant flash of light, illuminating a trampled and blood stained lamp shade. His silhouette briefly outlined the smoking scythe he held over his shoulder. Clapping, the Heavens congratulated Havok on his sacrifice as tears of joy rained down from the sky.

"I never had much of a family, anyway..."

"I wished you'd told me this sooner, Mabaa," Shinigami-sama glared, his back facing his mirror. "It was this kind of secrecy that brought us to odds in the first place. If I had known sooner –"

"I minimised her power. That fact remains true to this day, Reaper," the wretched hag snapped.

"But for how long? If it was stolen from you, who's to say she won't steal it from the thief?"

"That's highly unlikely. The thief, the Man with the Demon Eye, he's the last of the Immortal Werewolf Clan."

"Yet, he got the best of you," Shinigami-sama attacked back. "Immortal or not, innocent or guilty, he's in danger and so are we if she learns his whereabouts."

"I have Witches scouring the planet as we speak, but I don't know how long they'll remain submissive. They're asking questions I can't answer."

"Just focus on finding the Werewolf. I'll take care of the Queen."

"Just like last time? You know what she'll come after first, don't you? Are you prepared for that?"

Shinigami-sama sighed off, frowning as sweat glistened on the brow of his mask. Grumbling incoherently, it wasn't a surprise he hadn't heard his mirror ring.

"Er, Shinigami-sama?"

"Eh?" Rounding on the mirror, his eyes beamed. "Ah, Soul! Whatssup?"

Displaying his usually toothy grin, Soul Eater smiled back at his new Meister. "Black Star was able to confirm your suspicions and everything. He should be on his way to Shibusen now."

"Wonderful. And you contacted the others, I hope? I'd very much like to talk to all the Death Scythes at once. Although, Justin's going to be a bit of a problem…"

"That's why I called."

"Um? Oh, everyone knows what Justin's like, Soul. Don't worry."

"No, not that!" How does Spirit put up with him? "No, one of your Death Scythes, Talon Prowler, he didn't respond to his summon, and no one was able to contact his old Meister, Malcolm Vincent."

"Ah, but you found them, didn't you? Such a smart... Um? Soul, what's wrong?"

Soul lowered his head, his hands stuffed inside his jacket pockets. "They were both found in Talon's apartment. They'd been dead for some time..."

The silence was intense.

"Were their souls missing?"

"Huh? Er, yeah, they were gone. Why?"

Why make such a reckless move…? "I have an idea on who the killer might be, but I'll need as much evidence as possible to prove my theory. Can you take charge of the investigation?"

"Cool. I'll call back when we have something."

"Excellent!" Shinigami-sama waved, signing off. What are you up to? What are you planning?

Studying the printed words of his predecessors, Death the Kid was startled by the flash of lightning and the bellow of thunder that accompanied it. Sighing, he shakily rubbed his chest, trying to calm his own storm.

Ever since that…can I call it an explosion? Something's broken free, no doubt about it. But, can it be contained...?

Kid sat back in his chair, rounding his eyes on his sleeping comrades. Even Maka had fallen asleep, and the thunder was too distant to wake them. Nevertheless, Shibusen's library had proven itself useless, perhaps for the first time in history.

It's only useless because I don't know what I'm looking for.

Instead of angling his head uncomfortably, Kid turned and faced the numberless clock head on. 01:30. The rain had proven to be merciless, parading in its endless shower of Heaven swept tears. There had been no sign of a storm, nor was there any sign of the weather clearing up.

"Weather…a natural phenomenon," Kid noted. "And an earthquake, another natural phenomenon." Inspired, Kid searched his symmetrically stacked piles of books for a likely candidate. Running his finger down their spines, a cold shiver ran down his own.

Raising his head as he removed a drab and dull tan volume, a flash of light revealed a hidden figure. As Kid stared into the darkness, narrowing his eyes, a shadow shifted through his line of sight. Rising from his chair, Kid abandoned his books to investigate his ghost. But something urged him to ignore the phantom. Gradually, Kid's fingers fell from the back of the chair a dozing Elizabeth occupied. His footsteps echoed ominously, rebounding off the walls that seemed to soar to the sky. Eyes locked, gazing down the endless aisles separated by the towering shelves, a faint glow rounded a corner. Casting an eye back to the snoring table, Kid rubbed his aching chest again.

"I'm tired. I'm seeing things," he rationalised, nursing his head as he tread back to his seat, collapsing into the chair. "I'll just close my eyes…just for a few minutes…"

A dark and heavy cascading hissing whisper, the remnants of a dying cackle, rang in Kid's ears. But it wasn't the only thing ringing.

"Yoo-hoo! Kiddo!"

"Uh…? Father?"

"Sorry to disturb you son, (you look so cute when you sleep), but could you have everyone meet me in the Death Room? It's very important."

"Sure, father," Kid replied, stifling a yawn. "We'll be up in a minute."

For a moment, Kid hung between fantasy and reality, gazing down a pass less travelled. The shelves hadn't moved, but the clock hands had. 03:33...? Was it a dream? A hallucination…? Tck, get a grip Kid. But, tapping his colleagues, awaking them from slumber, it occurred to Kid they weren't the only ones awake. They weren't the only ones with dreams. Absent mindedly, he rubbed his aching chest as the shadows danced in the dying candle light.