The darkness of night smothered the streets of Old Tokyo. Not that it was a particularly hard achievement in the modern age. Ever since the nation of Japan became referred to as Area 11, the rotting infrastructure throughout the ruins of a city had been the lowest of concerns to its new Britannian masters.
No, instead their efforts had been focused on building the Tokyo Settlement on top of the ruins, investing in Britannian architecture while leaving the old city surrounding it, and the majority of its native residents in the literal darkness.
To the newly named Numbers, the darkness meant suffering, crime and vulnerability, only chased away by the meagre offering of lights they set up for themselves.
To the young man stalking through those streets in the dead of night, the darkness was a godsend. It prevented those living there from seeing the blond hair, blue eyes and light skin that he sported, marking him as a Britannian, one of their conquers and, in the eyes of many, their oppressors. They didn't see the large case in one of the young man's hands, held satisfactorily but not comfortably due to the weight of what it carried.
They didn't see the silver blade of the dagger in his other, stained red.
And thankfully for the young man, had no way of seeing what he had done earlier that night.
This young man was known as Isaac Cross, known as a murder to none but those killed by his hand and tonight, he would take a well-worn path into the World of Shadows.
Isaac breathed out a sigh, the sound of it lost in the night, as his body shivered for the last time tonight as the last of the adrenalin left his system. This hadn't been the first time he had taken a life and, while he had been getting better at controlling it, he didn't think he would ever get away from the symptoms of the dark deed he had done tonight.
"Good," a distant thought echoed in his head, "killing someone shouldn't be consequence free."
That was what a good person was supposed to think at any rate. That line of thinking had been so distant ever since he had killed in self-defence all those years ago and even more so since he had kept killing to stay living.
It was telling that any guilt his thoughts tried to force on him was quashed by the justifications that his mind thought up as he took the thankfully lonely walk back to the Tokyo settlement.
He was a member of the drug trade, preying on the innocent! Screamed his sense of Justice.
You made it quick. His sense of compassion added. He didn't suffer.
He was too tempting. His Greed and Hunger said together. It was all the money you needed this year on one guy.
He deserved it. His sense of pride crowed. If he couldn't defend himself from you while carrying that amount of money, then it was your right to take his life.
You have killed better men than he for less. His sense of nobility, long abused, said exhaustedly. You don't get to feel bad about literal scum.
To Isaac, the arguments were sound but that small voice decried them as justifications for the unforgivable.
Shaking his head, Isaac let the feeling of the warm night air on his face empty his head as he focused on the darkened street. He knew a more just man would have gotten the money he needed a better way, but the truth was that it happened. He had stabbed and killed a criminal in a dark street of Old Tokyo to get at the briefcase filled with money that he had. Now it was time to deal with the consequences of his impulsive action.
And the benefits… some part of his mind whispered as sliver of his attention went to the weight of the briefcase in his hand. He couldn't stop the small grin on his face from forming. It had been quite the score, hadn't it? The best part was that the body was in the middle of the ghetto, with hundreds of suspects in the area that would be a lot better at hiding the Black King's money than the mobster was. All the crime lord could reasonably do is send a much better underling to move the next batch of drug money.
It was a lot of money and Isaac found himself grateful for how much black the Ashford Academy school uniform used, especially as that uniform was the majority of clothes he owned at the moment. Black trousers, black shoes and a black jacket that hid the long-sleeved white shirt underneath allowed him to blend into the night very well despite the gold trimming on the latter. He was under no illusions that if he didn't blend in so well, his body would be found in the morning as well.
That was also the reason his other hand held the murder weapon, plain for all to see. It was so that anyone who managed to see him, piercing through the veil of night, saw that they would have to fight to get any prize from him. It wasn't even that good of a knife, being a sharpened steak knife that he had taken from the Academy's kitchen, but the mere threat would be enough to dissuade many. Not many were willing to put themselves at risk when there were easier targets elsewhere. He had little to fear from the more honourable citizens in the ghetto as well, the Britannian Police Force would be far more likely to beat down and arrest a "Number" for "distracting" them with their report. Even then, the outrage they would have had would die to a light grumbling when the former Japanese eventually heard that the victim was from Britannia. Such was the lack of sympathy for the culture that had a figurative boot on their own.
Isaac, of course, cared for none of this as his walk took another hour. His own mind registered it as convenient, but he couldn't say he exactly sympathised too strongly with the inhabitants of the houses. He had needs of his own to satisfy at the moment and pity was a feeling reserved for the more comfortable in the world.
And that was how it was. Isaac shaking off the last bits of adrenaline from his deeds as he walked cautiously into the night.
Isaac knew the moment he found his secondary destination of the night. It wasn't any particular sign on the ruined street of the Shinjuku ghetto but a feeling. A feeling of apprehension and tension filled the night as he walked on. Isaac stopped, he breathed in sharply, filling his lungs with air and hopefully confidence. This was going to be the trickiest part of the night.
He took a look around, from his position in the middle of the ruined road. Behind him, the dim lights of the ghetto shined weakly, barely piercing the darkness. Before him, however, was nothing. The street ahead was devoid of light and life equally, allowing the night to consume it almost entirely. The only thing that disallowed the area before him to appear pitch black were the bright lights from the Tokyo Concession before him. The raised city's luminescence allowing the dimmest of light to illuminate the path before him.
Isaac knew from experience that the area before him was approximately three blocks and reached all the way from the edge he stood at to the base of the raised city's struts. From there it would be easy enough to climb the unguarded struts into the Britannian city proper. This area was terrifying, to many it was considered haunted and for possibly good reason. It felt like you were watched constantly as you set foot in it and Isaac had even heard that some of the natives had gone missing within. Whether it was just a rumour that only pools of blood were found after their disappearance, he didn't know. What he did know was that he had crossed that area what felt like a hundred times before and was fine.
Regardless of his unshared opinion, the natives had refused to live in such an area, abandoning it near completely and the Police Force had been lazy enough to stop patrolling an area that no one lived in. For this reason, despite the unease traversing the darkened streets, it stopped the police asking why a blood-splattered Ashford student was carrying a case full of money in the middle of the night.
So, taking another breath Isaac moved into the darkness, armed with the knowledge that he had done it before and it was necessary.
However, keeping everything together mentally did mean he had to let something go from his stoic facade.
"Hello, darkness my old friend." Isaac whispered into the night as his form was shrouded in night.
Talking… helped.
It was only one street into his trek before Isaac realised something was dreadfully wrong.
The feeling that crawled up his spine was completely different from any other time he had walked through here. He let out a shuddered breath as he took another few steps down the road he had taken many times before. Before, it had just felt like something had been staring at him. Now the staring felt so much more… intense.
Before it had felt as if you had worn the wrong pants to class. Now the feeling felt… Hungry… Violent…
Isaac felt like he was the last fried fish in front of a crowd of hungry children.
Isaac took a few more steps, his eyes frantically scanning left to right as he tried to see anything. Predictably he saw nothing in the darkness, but occasionally his eyes did stop over a particular patch of it or two. On a second look he saw nothing but on the first he could have sworn that he saw two pinpricks of blue, staring right at him.
Another few steps. The adrenaline that he had spent so long to get rid of was pounding through his veins once again. He could feel his heart, his muscles were tensed and it was like he could hear and see everything.
It was only because of that, that Isaac managed to throw himself back in time to avoid the purple clawed hand that appeared from the dark and reached for his neck.
It missed by a finger.
Isaac did not time to contemplate this as he scrambled back and took a look at his attacker. It was only his experience in fighting for his life that allowed him not to fall into shock at the sight before him.
What came to mind immediately was some sort of short potbellied, purple man but almost immediately its inhumanity was evident through an elongated head with a mouth about half the size as its body. Staring out from that head was two, round glowing blue eyes. Almost lastly were some tags hanging from the creatures large ears, written on was some sort of symbol.
Quickly, reacting on instinct almost, Isaac held his bloodied knife in front of him, almost as if to ward off the thing that had tried to kill him. The monster did not seem that impressed at all as it seemed to lowly grumble and leap again, claws outstretched.
It was fast, too fast for Isaac to keep up with. He was in motion as soon as its feet left the ground, stepping backwards but the leap was a near blur to the young man's eyes. That single backstep managed to avoid a goring swipe to his torso by mere centimetres but his left arm, weighed down by a heavy case, was not so lucky as a single finger reached the arm, its claw stabbing into the area just below his elbow.
Isaac let out a short bark of pain as the claw met no resistance puncturing his jacket, shirt and then his skin. He only felt what was like a sharp burn as the creature dragged its claw down, parting flesh and cloth as though it were butter. His hand spasmed, both in pain and damage to the tendons, causing it to involuntarily drop its heavy load.
The attack had taken less than a second and before Isaac's mind had fully registered it, his arm had been split open from his elbow to his palm as it bled freely. Biting back a scream, he didn't try to grab at his wound. No longer did his own fear and adrenaline fill his head. Resonating within his mind was now pain and fear and the intrinsic knowledge that he could die here.
In this maelstrom of emotions and responses, Isaac's mind settled on one emotion in particular.
Rage.
Isaac screamed as he charged the monster before him, readying his good arm to stab his knife into the creatures belly. It stared back at his sudden advance, its features morphing into some parody of confusion.
That mistake would prove fatal.
It took only a second to cross the distance and even less for Isaac to slam the point of his knife into the distended belly. Contrary to his experience, there was so spurt of blood or feeling of wetness at the point of his knife but he was gratified as the creature opened its overly large mouth and screamed. Instincts born of many a street fight didn't let the Britannian revel in it as he instinctually pulled out his knife, it remaining oddly clean, and raised it to aim higher.
In the next fraction of a second the creature fell silent as the knife slammed into one of the glowing eyes. In the next, despite his pain addled mind, Isaac was surprised to see the monster rapidly dissolve into glowing red motes as they flew away and disappeared.
He was so shocked that he only returned to reality as he felt three lances of pain down his back. Out of reflex, the injured student swung out with his knife and was gratified for the swing to meet resistance.
Looking in that direction, he saw another purple creature, sporting a wound across its forehead, rear back, lunge forward and try to bite down on his leg. It was only the adrenaline allowing him to ignore the pain that allowed him to move his leg out of the way in time and stab downwards on the vulnerable head. The knife slammed down and the creature collapsed, dissolving into red motes allowing Isaac to let out a heavy sigh.
Looking up, he saw a sight that immediately made him suck all of that air he expelled in a silent gasp.
In the dim black were six more pairs of blue lights, all clearly watching him and his brain made the easy connection to make.
He had almost died fighting just one, got lucky but still hurt fighting the second creature. He had no idea what these things were, but it could be said that his brain wasn't asking at the moment.
Obeying his first thought, Isaac dropped his knife, clutched his injured arm close to his chest and ran in the opposite direction.
Deeper into the abandoned block.