Hi guys! Here with a brand new chapter and the start of a new arc! You know the drill, I own nothing, read, review, yodelaidleheehoo.

Big thanks to my betas and theMadLad for helping with this chapter!

"Hush and be still."

The adolescent before him kept screeching and twisting in his restraints. A futile effort, yet one that makes him twitch in anticipation. Every such moment was like this for him.

"Rejoice, young one. Know that the path to the truth will be further revealed with your sacrifice."

He placed a hand on the youth's chest, seemingly savoring the crescendo that was his cries.

"Now, enlighten me. Reveal the truth from your suffering."

In a flash, the floor becomes stained with blood. The crimson liquid of life coveredeverything, matting the worn walls like a grotesque canvas of agony. Everything, except him. His coat remains pristine, not a spot of red to mar its stark white surface.

He gazed at the remains of his latest Isaac. The heart kept beating for a few more seconds before its rhythm was muted.

He sighed. "Ah, another failure." Nevertheless, it would not deter him.

The sound of whooshing air graced his ears. He did not move a muscle, for he knew of only one individual who could enter his sanctuary.

"Busy?"

"A mere setback, nothing more. I had wished to try enclosing the form again, but the result remains the same. Too simplistic." He glanced out of the corner of his eye, at the yellow-eyed figure in the darkness. "What is it you wish of me, Kurogiri?"

"I am here to inform you that supplies will be delivered more frequently."

"...oh? Why, may I ask, is the reason for the change?"

"We have finished the final layer of security, thanks to your help of course. Now we have a full guarantee that outside forces will not poke around where they shouldn't."

The man's expression remains stony. "And what is the catch? While I do not doubt my friend's capabilities, I know that he hasn't granted this opportunity to me for free."

Kurogiri remained silent for a moment. "...there has recently been an unexpected variable in Sensei's plans. He hopes that, in return for his assistance with your work, you might aid him in…removing said variable."

The man didn't respond, so Kurogiri took his silence as a sign to continue. "It would not trouble your schedule - just some samples from your work would be a start. In fact, you will most likely not have to leave this location at all."

The stony man looked down at the ground in contemplation.

"...very well. As long as my path to the truth remains unimpeded."

Kurogiri nodded. "Sensei will be glad to hear that. Shall I begin with that one?"

The man waved his hand dismissively. "I have nothing more to learn from him. Do as you wish."

As Kurogiri passed by him and enveloped the remains in black mist, the man headed out of the room while fiddling with the beads on his neck.

"So, my old friend is using me…no matter. Charity does not exist for one such as him. As long as it furthers my journey, I care not. An adequate request for all that he has given me, and if it assists in his goal, all the better. Who knows? Perhaps with this, the path will finally be revealed."

And into the darkness he slunk, the presence of death standing sentinel.

Huh. This feels really weird.

'Why should it? Thou hast been here twice before. It is not a foreign location to thee.'

'Yes, but there's something off about entering a place that you've basically broken into through the front gates. Well, more like the back door, but still.'

'Thou art rambling nonsense, contractor. The times when I have entered a location publicly after performing my craft are innumerable. There is nothing unusual about it whatsoever.'

I pause for a moment, then shrug. 'Eh, fair point.'

While my Concealment is still on (naturally), I take a tad less caution as I head towards the estate. A quick application of my Quirk tells me that there's no one wandering outside, at least in the immediate vicinity. But I manage to pick up the familiar sound of swinging steel coming from the dojo. Only this time, there's no indication of more than one presence.

I take a deep breath. Well, time to see if this is as good of an idea as I thought it was.

With my gym bag slung over my shoulder, I head towards the large wooden doors of the dojo. I give one of them a gentle push and peek inside. Sure enough, there she is, performing katas with a bokken. Taking one last look behind me to ensure no one's coming, I creep my way inside and slowly close the door. When the doors fully close with a click that slightly reverberates throughout the room, she stops just as she finishes the kata.

She says nothing. She doesn't even stare - she just holds the wooden sword in her hand.

So I'm supposed to start the conversation then.

I remove the Concealment. "Hello."

Shiki turns to look at me with her expression holding that odd passivity from last time. She looks me up and down before she speaks. "Good morning. I didn't think you'd show."

I shrug again. "I have found myself in need of a sparring partner. You offered, so I came."

She doesn't reply. Instead, she approaches me and I find myself resisting the urge to flinch or step back. Once she is at an arm's length from me, she stops and gives me another lookover.

"Do you know how to use a sword?"

I shake my head. "No. I've never had the luxury."

She hums. "Very well." Dropping the bokken on the ground, she swaps it with a knife from her sleeve and throws it. "Take this."

I catch the weapon and give it a look-over. I move to touch the blade and…wait.

"Rubber?"

I push the blade forward and instead of steel resisting the force, it bends. Unusual, considering she used live steel last time.

"For someone who did not believe I was going to show, you've invested quite the effort."

Shiki shakes her head in response. "I was going to practice with them anyways. The dojo's for more than just swords." She draws another knife from her gi sash. "You ready?"

Hmm. Never used a practice weapon before. Eh, the weight feels fine. Well, no time like the present. "How do you wish to do this?" I ask as I drop the gym bag and settle into a basic stance, one arm holding the knife and the other ready to grab.

She hums a bit. "Three hits to the neck, heart, or head wins. No disappearing."

Ah, so she remembers that.

A second passes. Then another. And another.

This time I didn't get a warning twitch.

Dashing forward, she slides to the side and tries to kick my legs out from under me. I quickly sidestep and throw the knife at her head. It doesn't fly as fast, but still fast enough to catch anyone unaware. It bonks her head, making her wince. I seize the chance, reaching down and pulling her up with one hand while summoning the knife with the other. She tries to twist herself free, but I jerk her around, disarming her as I do so, as the knife flies into my palm and I press it twice against her neck.

"That's three."

She freezes for a moment, then gives a singular nod. I let go of her and after picking up her knife, she returns to her original spot, barely looking winded. We settle back into the stances and wait.

This time, the twitch was a feint.

I had expected her to move to the side, but she charged straight at me instead. I abort my own dash to move low in an attempt to intercept her, but then she raises her knee and slams it into my ribs. Thanks to my suit, it doesn't hurt, but it still manages to halt me for a second - and apparently, that second is all she needed.

"That's three."

I crick my neck as the pain leaves me. Damn, did she just get faster? Also, her figure belies her physical strength. I'd expected that level of force from a boxer!

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. But she's still far stronger than I had previously thought. What she showed that day was no fluke.

Shiki backs off as I settle into position again. A few seconds later, I charge. While doing so, I throw the knife, but this time she's prepared; she sidesteps and proceeds to jab me. As the blade reaches my sternum, I manage to swerve sideways and cause it to only strike my arm. Ignoring the bruise, I proceed to rush-tackle her as I summon the knife back. She dodges my charge, but at the last second, I grasp her sleeve and pull her forward, just as the knife flies into my hand.

And right at her chest. "That's three."

She coughs at the triple jab. She lightly pants as she stares up at me. Her gaze remains emotionless…but more focused.

Was she taking it easy on me? No, it doesn't seem like it. Surprise then?

I let her go and she takes a few deep breaths. Once she's calmed down, she picks up her dropped knife and settles into a stance.

This time, we both move.

Time flies by. Everything else seems to fizzle out. The bouts never last too long. Except for the endings of each round, we both keep moving. Always another angle, always another step. The nanosecond we see something might fail, we change tactics. I barely have time to think. Her choice of using plastic knives is far clearer to me by now - we'd both be sporting serious injuries otherwise.

Kind of obvious. But hey, up till now Mawla has taught me using live steel, and he's a ghost. Lasting injuries aren't a thing for him or any injury for that matter.

As we spar, I begin to notice something. Despite her surprising strength, Shiki mainly relies on her flexibility and acrobatics to outmaneuver me. It's a bit like she's dancing, except there is no…showiness to her movements. Her motions are sharp and swift, like a flowing stream. I think I saw that in an anime. By contrast, I'm not nearly as flexible as her. Swift, maybe, but not flexible. Instead, I seem to rely on my natural bulk and sharp movements to end bouts.

I don't count how many rounds we go through. Right now, I'm sweating like crazy under my mask. My limbs feel like they've undergone one of Mawla's punishment/emergency sessions. Raspy breaths escape my lips as I keep my gaze on my opponent. She looks as exhausted as I am, though her composure remains firm. The area on her gi around her neck is soaked with sweat and I can see some of it glistening on her forehead.

Wow.

I'm about to get into position again when Shiki sticks the knife inside her belt. "I think we've had enough for today."

I slowly blink. Wait, what?

'She speaks truth, contractor. The sun has moved considerably since thou started, two hours I believe.'

It takes all my remaining effort to clamp my jaw shut. Two hours!?

"...We've been sparring for a good while now, haven't we?"

She nods. "Father is going to call me to lunch soon. You should get going."

Ah, yes that is certainly a good reason to stop. I exhale and loosen my stance, feeling the fatigue run through my body. God, I feel wrecked. But…in a sort of good way. I can't really explain it.

I walk over to her and hand her the rubber knife but she shakes her head. "Keep it."

…okay. Not that I'm complaining. I slip it under my belt and look at her. What do I say now?

"...thank you. This was an…interesting experience."

"You're welcome. I must admit, it felt different than when I spar with Father."

She turns and looks at the door, her arms resting at her sides. "Do you want to do this again?"

I blink in surprise. So this really wasn't a one-time thing? "Will next weekend be fine?"

She looks up for a moment, then nods. "Father usually stays in his study at this time. No one should barge in on us."

Yeah, good idea. I'm about to nod again when something occurs to me.

"Do you have a phone?"

I bite back a curse as she gives me a strange look. Of course she has a phone, you idiot! What person in this day and age doesn't!?

"...yes. Do you want my number?"

"In case something comes up."

Shiki nods in understanding as I pull out my 'work' phone. Feeling the excess blood receding from my face, I type in the number she gives me. I make sure that I don't mistype anything and put the phone back in my pocket.

…why can't I think of anything to say again?

"See you next week." With that, I grab the bag, Conceal myself and head out of the dojo.

The gravel crackles under my boots as I walk towards the gate. I try to go over the session, but my mind is a jumbled wreck right now. Must be the adrenaline receding.

'I concur. It seems that thou were correct about the potential benefits of this new situation. A challenger of her caliber would most definitely drive thee to improvement.'

I keep walking, but I make sure to savor every word in that statement. Mawla agreeing with me? I might as well have seen lightning strike a shark. Now to just prepare for the inevitable refute…

'I still strongly recommend thou proceed with caution.' There it is! 'We know nothing of what her true objectives are. I do not believe she plans to betray thee, not yet at least, but I cannot seem to get a full grasp of her being.'

I raise an eyebrow. 'What do you mean?'

'In our path, reading an opponent's intentions is crucial for plotting an assassination. Under my tutelage, thou hast used this skill to great effect, such as when thou planned the death of the kalb who threatened thy madar. But there is something about this girl that I cannot seem to grasp. I had thought that this spar might clear these doubts.'

'So like everything else we do, we do with caution?'

'Precisely.'

Any further conversation is interrupted, however, by the rumbling of my stomach.

I blink again and check my phone. Right, it's lunchtime.

'Time to head home then.' I told Mom I'd be going out for a bit of exercise in the city. She's not working today, so she'll be cooking lunch.

One train trip later and I'm standing in front of the apartment door. I'd changed out of my outfit in the station restrooms (it had no cameras - it wasn't my first time using them for something like this), maintaining Concealment until my regular clothes were on and only then did I dispel it and stuff my mask into the bag.

"Hey Mom, I'm home!" I call out as I open the door.

"Welcome back Ritsu!" she replies from the kitchen. The apartment is full of the scent of spices and meat. "You're just in time, lunch is gonna be ready soon. You sweaty?"

I raise my arm and take a whiff from under. "Eugh. Yeah." Should I have expected something else? I was at it for two hours! I still can't believe it.

"Go take a quick shower or put on some deodorant. No stinking up the dinner table!"

"Then what's this I'm smelling all over the place?"

"It adds to the atmosphere!" That…is actually right.

I hurry to my room and throw the bag in the corner. After I make sure it's closed tight, I enter the bathroom for a quick spray of deodorant, with the addition of a quick face wash and a number two.

I re-enter the living room feeling refreshed and hungry. "Smells amazing Mom!" I look down at the table and nearly weep in joy: chicken with peanut butter sauce and curry rice!

Mom walks over with two glasses of water, her hair tied in a ponytail behind her back. She sees my reaction and smiles. "See something you like?"

"I love you so much, Mom." I whisper.

She chuckles. "Glad to hear it. Now sit your ass down and let's eat."

I happily nod and do as she says. With a quick 'itadakimasu!' we dig into the dish. A moan escapes my lips as the salty taste of the peanut butter explodes in my mouth, beautifully mixed with the fried taste of chicken. And with a bite of the curry rice - pure bliss. This is worth all those hours of pain.

'Yet thou found the fight enjoyable, did thou not, contractor?'

Please Mawla, shut up and let me eat! I scoop up another spoonful of curry rice and chew. Oooh, so good - is that pork in there? Even better!

'You are missing out on this Mawla!' Taunting my ghost teacher over food isn't the brightest idea I've had, but I'm just too happy to care.

Grumbling is his response along with a few scant words of Arabic and Persian. What's haram and why are you - oh right, Muslims don't eat pork. Eh, their loss.

"So, what have you been up to kiddo?"

I pause for a moment, chopstick and peanut-buttered chicken in my mouth. I chew and swallow before wiping my mouth with a napkin. "Not much. The school year's starting out fine, everything is still boring though."

"You still going to that gym?"

"Less so as of late. Can't really find the energy."

She shoots me a bemused look. "Heh, only you would get exercising of your own free will and then stop. It did you good though; you've lost a lot of that baby fat since you started." My face twists in denial; I never had baby fat! "You're sure we don't need to pay?"

I shake my head. "Nope! The old manager said he was glad to train a youngster like me. Lots of folks go to his gym, so one guy not paying doesn't really bother him." Wow Ritsu, that's one hell of a stretch, are you sure you're not a contortionist?

She gives me a quizzical look and I feel my fingers tensing. Shit, was her Quirk on? Again, it's one hell of a stretch, but still. "He also said he had a deal with a Hero…?"

Mom's eyes widen and then she nods. "Ahh, I heard about those. Some gyms let Heroes train anonymously if they don't have one in their agency or the like, and sometimes they get extra cash. I think there was a case involving that…" She wanders off for a moment before shaking her head. "Never mind, if he didn't tell you, then it's none of your business."

I inwardly sigh in relief and resume eating. Hurray for misdirection!

Soon enough, we both finish our plates and sag into our chairs with satisfied sighs and full stomachs. I idly lick my lips clean of the last traces of peanut butter sauce. I don't know how long it will be before Mom cooks this again, so I have to savor every morsel of it.

Mom gets up and clears her plate and chopsticks off the table. "Did you at least make any new friends? What about that Jiro girl?"

I sigh. Here comes the awkward part of the conversation. "Jiro's too busy with U.A., Mom. We sometimes text, but with what she's told me it's very intense. She's too wrung out most days to hang out with anyone. Besides, Musutafu isn't a jog away, even with the train."

She nods. "I figured as much. One of my colleagues has a cousin who works in the Pro Hero business and went to one of the Marketing or Gen Ed courses in a Hero school, can't remember which one. She said for three years he looked like a walking corpse that runs on coffee." My nose scrunches up and she shoots me a warning look. "Don't you start, mister! Anyway, if those courses were hard, it must be hell for a Hero course student."

"It's a demanding job. You put your life on the line for it." I reply, placing my dishes in the sink. She nods again in agreement.

"Power to her and everyone else there then." She turns on the faucet and begins rinsing the dishes before putting them in the open dishwasher. "But other than her, you have no friends?"

I lean on the kitchen counter and run a hand through my hair. I didn't really know how to answer her without being fully blunt, matters relating to my double life aside. My class this year is with the same people as last year's. I didn't have any real connections with them, or with anyone else at school for that matter. It's not like I was an outcast; I just didn't click well with any of them. There are a few cliques in my grade that are pretty neat, but most of them like to hang out together after school or on the weekends and…it makes me uncomfortable. Not in a 'help-me-I-want-out' kind of way, no; but being packed together with large groups of people, trying to constantly have conversations…I can't ever seem to do it. Not when I was a little kid, and not now. I've gotten better, obviously, but I'd rather spend the afternoon holed up in my room to play games rather than hang out with a group. Or kill scumbags. And there's probably something wrong with that sentence.

"Ritsu? Are you okay?" I snap out of my musings and glance at Mom. She's giving me a look filled with concern, one that I've seen many times and makes me feel like a total jerk. "Y-yeah." But what can I do? I barely get along with anyone at school, Jiro has her own life and…

…

…

"...there is one."

Her gaze briefly morphs into one of surprise. "W-well, not really! I mean, not yet. We're still trying to see if it can work."

She puts down the plate she's cleaning and leans forward. "If what can work?"

"Being friends."

For a few moments, she stares at me and I try very hard not to break into a sweat. Fuck! Why the hell did I mention that!? Mom's asked this question before and the answer was always the same, and it shouldn't have been different this time! And why on Earth did I default to a girl who's now my sparring partner as my first option for a friend!?

'Perhaps it is because the number of people thou interact with can be counted on one hand?'

Not now Mawla!

Mom keeps looking at me strangely before covering her mouth. Too bad I can still hear the giggles.

"What's so funny?" I ask, definitely without a pout.

"Hee-hee, nothing," she replies, now not even bothering to hide her laughter. "It's just that - that's not the kind of thing you say about finding new friends."

"Then what?"

Her giggles die down and she gives me a knowing smile. What is she not telling me? "Nevermind."

Yeah, she knows something.

"Mom! I'm not joking! I can't make friends with someone just like that!"

"Well, why do you think you can be friends? Do you have anything in common?"

Well, we both love using knives. And we have a penchant for killing.

"We have…similar hobbies."

She raises an eyebrow. "And?"

Hmm…good question. "That's it."

She sighs and shakes her head. "Let me guess, you've probably only talked to each other not more than three times."

I nod. "Yeah, but - hey, how do you know that!?"

The same knowing look appears on her face as she reaches over and pats my cheek. "I'm your mother sweetie. I just know these kinds of things."

No, I am not pouting, I swear!

Mom's look softens as she keeps her hand on my cheek. "Let me ask you this then: do you want to be friends with that person?"

"...yes." I want to keep her around. I think I actually had fun in that spar.

"You've found something that the two of you enjoy doing?"

"Yes."

"Then keep on doing it. See if you actually connect with that person. If you do, you'll be friends before you know it. If not, then I'm sure they'll understand."

I lean into her touch. "What makes you so sure?" I ask softly.

"You're a good judge of character Ritsu, you always were. That's one of the reasons I didn't push you too much into making friends. If you've managed to find a reason to be around someone, then they can't be all that bad."

Oh, if only you knew, mother of mine…well, to be frank, compared to all the wackos I've met, Shiki's a veritable saint.

She withdraws her hand and flashes me another grin. "Now, don't you have some homework to do?"

"Don't you have some poor sod to sue?"

She swats the air in front of me. "Cheeky brat," she mutters, that grin still on her face.

True enough, I did have some homework. I manage to get a good chunk of it done by the time the sun begins to set before I start booting up the laptop and playing some mindless fantasy games (single player - I don't have the patience for MMOs). Another great side effect of meditation: memorizing textbooks is very easy.

But as my virtual avatar is knee-deep in monster blood, I hear my work phone ping from my bag. I pause the game and fish it out of my costume.

A message from Dabi.

I open the notification and the screen is filled with the image of…an arm. A bloody severed arm.

What the hell?

A message soon appears.

'This just appeared in one of the big underground sites. Scared the freak out of all the idiots present.'

Another message pops up, this time it's a link to a news article. I open it and find out it's very recent - like, an hour ago recent. This time, it's a severed leg appearing in a public square.

The article says they just appeared in a swirl of black mist out of nowhere, scaring everyone nearby. Tokyo P.D. were called to the scene, but when they tried to remove the limbs, they collapsed into puddles of goo. Another image showed said puddle surrounded by yellow police tape.

Wait. 'Black mist'. Why does that term…

The warehouse. Mr. Handjob. The…monster.

No way. It can't be the same thing. But what are the odds of there being a Quirk that can do the exact same thing as the one I saw in that warehouse?

'I presume infinitesimally low, contractor.'

'Yeah, unfortunately. There are a lot of Quirks that are extremely similar - borderline identical - to one another, but no two are totally and completely alike. Maybe in families, but I don't think this is the case here. It's gotta be the one from before.'

I cautiously type in my response.

'Did it appear out of a black mist?'

The 'typing' icon flashes for a few moments.

'Yeah. You know something?'

I sigh and place the phone on the desk, then collapse right into my chair. Why can't I have this evening stress-free? And after such a delicious lunch? I lean forward and type in my response.

'Maybe. But what's this got to do with us?'

For a few moments, there's no reply.

'Pushed morons away. Kind of had to angle it weird so those wouldn't turn into goo, but here.'

Another photo pops up and I freeze. It's the arm but the image is taken from a different angle. Carved into the palms is the bloody image of a skull. And down the arm, there is writing carved into the flesh. The message is bloody, and after zooming in, I see that two of the characters seemed to be branded instead of carved, one stacked above the other.

私は死に挑む。

-神の領域を突破しました。

I defy death.

I have breached god's domain.

Death. God. Death god. Shinigami.

My eyes widen as my breath hitches.

Oh. Fuck.

'This is a challenge. A provocation.'

I numbly nod. And one hell of a challenge.

Another message quickly draws my attention.

'Shit, they turned to goo. Some moron tried to touch them.'

I furiously type. 'Did anyone see you?'

'Ski mask. Always have one. Don't like it, makes my skin go batshit crazy, but I did it. Pulled down sleeves. Others tried to get close with their phones too.'

I sag a bit in relief. With luck, nobody will think of trying to connect him to me.

I scroll through the article again, reading it carefully while searching the incident on the web. After clicking a couple of links and reading different versions, a sentence catches my eye.

"One witness stated that there appeared to be a symbol written in blood on the severed limb, but was chased off by the authorities before…"

I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. So whoever did…this, didn't just write that for the shits and giggles. He wants me to see it.

'Do not forget, there are two additional limbs missing. I hadst no doubt they shall appear soon, bearing similar or identical markings.'

I absently nod as I look at the image, all the while I feel my fingers close in on themselves. Some part of me wants to hope that this is a bluff, or just some sick prank…

'I fear that this is no sick jest, contractor. Remember, back in the warehouse, the criminals complained that ever since thou made thy mark upon this city, the filth has retreated deeper into the shadows, and thus were unable to perform their assault as planned. This is more than just a provocation; this is retaliation.'

…retaliation? Using someone's limbs as a freaking signpost is retaliation?

…all right. Fine.

That's how they want to play? Fine, I'm game.

I quickly send a message to Dabi as my mind goes into overdrive. "Find out whatever you can. There's gonna be more. Disappearances, kidnappings, attacks that nobody's talking about, I don't care."

"They want you to hit back. Not saying it's wrong, they're expecting it."

"I know. Doesn't mean they can take it."

…

"You better pay me extra. This is gonna be a headache."

With that, he logs off. I lean backwards and a snarl escapes my lips. I desperately want to break something right now, but I manage to close my eyes and take several deep breaths. Acting like a child won't do me or whoever that poor sod was any good now.

'Thy reaction is more tempered than I expected, contractor. Well done.'

I let out a huff as I feel a sardonic smile flash on my face. 'Isn't this what you taught me?'

Mawla lets out a short, yet deep chuckle. 'True. Nevertheless, thou art correct; this slight cannot go unanswered. If thou ignore this, more will die, perhaps in even more gruesome manners.'

'I thought as much. We'll have to find this bastard as fast as we can and end him. I'll need to start looking somewhere and not just wait for Dabi; maybe I'll hit the Nine Rings bar or even the underground market.

This fucker wants to ring the bell? I'll make sure it's his funeral bell.'

Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin - Hassan-i Sabbah)

Stats:

Strength: D++

Agility: C

Endurance: C-

Mana: C++ (Only when using Power of the Valley. Otherwise, nonexistent.)

Luck: C+

Skills:

Presence Concealment C-: The ability to hide from others. A semi-decent level for any Assassin. Against ordinary criminals and some intelligent ones it works well.

Throwing (Dagger) B and Throwing (Retrieval) B: The expertise for throwing projectile weapons; in this case, daggers. His daggers have the same destructive power as firearms when thrown, typically spelling certain death for human targets. He can retrieve them to his hand with but a mere gesture

Information Erasure C++: Erases all traces of the user's identity, physical or digital, after leaving a scene of assassination. It does not hide the user's identity in any other situation, and clues can be pieced together to deduce identity. If the user's identity is discovered, then the effects of the skill weaken. Rank increased thanks to multiple exposures outside of Presence Concealment.

Power of the Valley of Death C++: A unique connection forged as a result of finding a relic of Alamut. Assassin can draw power from the Valley to perform certain skills he would otherwise be incapable of doing.

Quirk - Super-Hearing C+: A power gained as a result of evolution. Allows the user to hear precise details within a certain range. Can extend the range in exchange for loss of detail. Also alerts the user of incoming danger provided they can react to it.

Muraqubah D+: A meditative state that enhances Ritsu's connection to the Valley. If used enough times/for long enough, combat specs have a chance of increasing. In addition, it also enables ?

Noble Phantasm:

Zabaniya - Delusional Judgment Rank C+

An 'ultimate assassination technique' bearing the same name as the angels of hell, a title which all previous 'Old Men of the Mountain' used for their own techniques. Unlike them however, who were forged by extensive modification of the Hassans' bodies, this technique is a reflection of the Assassin's desire to inflict what he deems true judgment. Calling upon his unique connection to the Valley in the Shadow of Death, Assassin drags his target's soul to the Valley, where the First Hassan awaits them. Their soul is laid bare before the Great Founder and should they be found guilty of whatever sin Assassin finds them to have committed, the flames of Gehenna will burn away their soul and body until naught but ash remains.

Hi guys! So here we are, starting a brand new arc with lasting consequences for everyone involved! It's my own take on one of the Kara no Kyoukai films/novels. I originally wanted to do it nearly identical to the original, but I realized that it wouldn't mesh well with the story. So thanks to Santo's suggestions and help, here it is!

If you're feeling helpful, go to my page at pat . reon/ user?u=47732921 and donate a bit! Patrons will also get previews of future chapters!

I'm a member of the Shiro's Gaming Omniverse Discord (discord . gg/wd3tUYWVCd.) server and the Emerald Library (discord . gg/elibrary). If you want to hop over and chat, either about this story or anything else, feel free! I also have my own server Drake's Lair, at (discord . gg/2bD4UgyyPA).

If you enjoyed this story, check out my other ones and look at my profile for challenges!

Most importantly...

Read and Review! REVIEW!