April 7th, 2026: Nighttime.
Following Katie's transformation, Ace covered his eyes. Beside and below him, Kima with June did the same. Right now, they stared ahead at their friend. In the middle of that Storm, she controlled everything, from the tiniest death to a catastrophic explosion. In that form, she was essentially a monster. Despite how agonizing this scenery before them was, they gazed regardless. This was the undeniable truth of their world, of their friend. That sometimes, for the sake of what you wanted, you had to be willing to do the impossible.
And while June witnessed this with her very own eyes, she was forced to question the righteousness of her path. Would she end up the same as her brother, her cousin, her teacher, her father? All possibilities coursing through her abruptly halted with the abnormal touch of an outsider's hand gracing her shoulder.
"That's the signal," said Jefferson upon exiting the shadows behind Ace.
It was almost as though the moonlight's trajectory shifted, for once the white brightness leaked onto the earth, the rest of Riot emerged from the shadows. Seated against an air conditioner, Azazel sharpened a black katana. Pushing it into the sheathe against his hip, he stood and now removed the Crow mask from over his lips.
"So that's Katie, huh..?" He asked.
"Yeah. Back at Riverton, when I first saw it, I was horrified. But now, it's different. What about you, Karlo? What do you think about this whole thing?" Ace nudged Azzy's elbow after questioning him.
"I…"
Before he could express further, a soft voice snuck onto the scene as the Master tapped on the duo's shoulders.
"No time to loiter. We must not waste this opportunity Katie made for us. Azazel, go with Natalia, August, Darrell. I'll lead the other three. Ace, you meet up with Alex to recover him from the Giant."
As Hana assigned everyone's positions, Kima spoke out about her assignment. Not only did she not have a say in the matter, but their positioning was vague—whether or not that part was intended would be divulged after kin asked the following,
"Uh, Master Saiai, what do you mean you're leading the other three? Azazel's squad goes to assault Retly's remaining military force but what about us? What did you mean 'other three' when there's only two of us, excluding Ace?" Kima queried.
"I'm sure she was hoping you wouldn't ask that," Azazel answered with his deduction.
"H-huh? What makes you say that?" June interrupted everyone's conversation.
"Are you two that stupid? While Dad and Karlo go assault with the other two, you three are gonna try to recover Katie from within her Storm," even as Ace laid it out for them, they persisted in their unwillingness to accept the truth.
"So… you mean to say… we're going inside THAT?" Kima asked a second time.
"Yes. Because Riot's Requiems don't have a future without Katie Moon, our little trio will try our hardest to recover her without any casualties."
Halfway across from them, there wandered Alex's white-glowing Goliath Form lurked over the fire. Crushed bodies bleeding from below rubble, steaming skeletons popping out from flames, everything before and around him he witnessed.
In his usual bright retinas, he held an uncaring look to the atrocities below him. The Goliath hung its head, eyes facing the ground—face untangling to reveal the tinier main vessel. Leaping out from within the hollow head, Alex collapsed onto his knees as he landed amidst the debris. Limping through the destruction, his hand grabbed his burnt shoulder, steam emitting off his revealed wound under his clothing's sleeve.
Just before he could fall, his arm was grabbed. He was caught, by none other than his ginger student's aid as the Judge's arm was thrown over Ace's neck. Through the flames of their environment's destruction, he carried his older instructor to their rendezvous, but unfortunately, his hearing remained. Their bodies were invisible from such immeasurable pressure forced upon their beings, yet their moans persisted beyond that weakness.
The redheaded Wilder's eyes darted around their surroundings, but as he did, continuously ignoring victims' desperate pleas, an important voice rang out to him. Alex started speaking.
"This is… worse than what Dad did. Heaven was nuked and all souls were sent to Purgatory or Hell, but this is different. These are real people with lives. And I just… crushed them in less than an instant without hesitation. I can make take this back. For as long as I live, I'll be forced to remember that I did this of my own volition. This is… where our justice always leads us, without fail."
Ace was focused on what laid ahead while Alex dwelled on the unchangeable past. The future would hold more regrets for them, but at least at the end of whatever path they were slaves to, there was that little gimme dog hood they had. That for whatever end this story would come to, it would be a 'righteous' one. Maybe that time had already come with this indiscriminate destruction —the byproduct of retaliation against hatred. Alex knew it better than anyone. That, by countering hatred with more of the same, it only perpetuated the same cycle that'd been progressing for eons.
"How do we stop it, then?" Ace asked with persisting eyes locked forward.
"I doubt we can."
While Ace continued fleeing with Alex, the rubble moved. Or rather, more accurately, something below the rubble moved. Rocks started jerking around, and with the tiniest reaching movement from below those weights, there he was. Simply a charred skeleton regranting flesh and bones gradually, Icarus scratched his skull.
'I can't… feel anything. I can't… even talk, right now.'
His body couldn't regenerate fast enough to produce a tongue—he was lucky to have a brain producing thoughts in the first place. But while he gradually recuperated, he attempted to stand, however, he slipped and tumbled onto his ribs; a miracle they weren't broken.
'What's the last thing I remember? Oh, right. Jumping down that hole and seeing… 'him.' But how did he get here without me noticing—the same goes for someone else. But, I can't remember the name right now. I'm supposed to be looking for someone but who?'
Pushing himself from the ground, regrowing his eyes, he looked around through hazy vision. Not only did the flames from the barren wasteland continue to endlessly burn, but around him were the corpses of his allies—his comrades he'd commanded and not to mention the subjects he ruled. Time seemingly halted, every little ember fluttering past his eyes, the tiniest raging flame, it was inconsequential for he'd realized what TRULY laid before him. Nothing more or less than what he wished to eternally bathe in and longed for more than anything.
What surrounded him wasn't the merciless death and mutilation of his comrades or subjects, no. How could someone like Icarus Chrollo ever think so simpleminded about others he used like they were nothing more than puppets on strings? It surged through, from his head to his toes. An uncontrollable urge to obliterate anything and everything in its path, leaving nothing but panic for those left alive. Or, in other words: chaos.
A smirk appeared over his teeth, skin regenerating at speeds akin to light once the face replaced his burnt skull. The Jester unleashed a maniacal laugh unlike any other before, roaring to the clouds, even causing Katie's body to turn while she was hovering amidst the Storm. Just that one sound notifying her of the Jester's condition, how could she control herself after that?
Hana, Kim, and June heading for her realized what she was doing. Gritting her teeth, Myers formed another hand symbol once her palms clasped. Inhaling sharply, she pushed our a heavy exhalation as from a shadowy puddle below exited a winged creature with a steaming dragon head. Jumping onto its back, using horns to control trajectory, June jumped with her. Kima and June took the skies with a nod to the Master they left on the ground.
"C'mon, Katie…" whispered Hana, continually sprinting.
But while the Jester reawakened and Katie altered her course to head for him, there remained the intact portion of Retly's city.
Jumping across rooftops while bearing a blade, the bullets flying his way were destined to fail once the Crow came for the shooter. Effectively cleaving them in two once the sharpness made contact with their flesh, their disconnected body fell to the street, accompanied by a gory plop.
Now running down the street with his arms flailing behind, the Crow spotted more soldiers forming a roadblock up ahead. However, destroying that wasn't his job, no. Instead, he skidded to a halt and swiftly sheathed his sword against his waist. Leaping into the air, throwing himself onto a nearby roof, he tumbled out of the gunfire's aim. The soldiers seemed puzzled, chatter spitting out their mouths as they debated chasing after the Crow.
"Someone's down the street again!!" Another soldier observed loudly.
And sure enough, there he was. Walking with a cape remaining idle, strands kept motionless while covered by a blackened hood for Eternal Sight peeked through the cowl shrouding his face. There was no mistaking it for the soldiers felt their joints freeze and their throats go dry. What laid before them, at the end of this very road was none other than that infamous unrivaled enemy.
The Requiem Reaper. August Rivera, son of the New Allfather. Before they knew it, a sphere of green energy coursed through their bodies, and then, they were nothing more than disfigured corpses on the side of the street.
A soldier miraculously survived with life's flame still in their eyes, reaching their hand to the sky's moon. But while their life slowly faded into the winds of spring, August continued carelessly walking down the road. Already halfway down the street, he abruptly stopped.
"You know when you watch me it's kinda creepy, right?" August asked his stalker.
Landing from jumping off another rooftop, Azazel removed the Crow mask a second time whilst August pulled back his hood; revealing his discolored eyes in all their glory.
"Nothing seems outta the ordinary. Ace is recovering Alex and the other three are recovering Katie. Tch, I never thought the day would come when I'd be saying that about my daughter—like she's some sorta weapon we can't control," Azazel said, scratching his nape.
"To think that out of all people, she'd be the one to inherit Death's Source… then again, she's a different type of beast when it comes to fighting so I guess there's no surprise she's more powerful than she looks," August uttered, looking off at the distant smoke over their environment's surrounding buildings.
Instead of baselessly agreeing with his partner, Azazel realized his curiosity piqued its mention. 'Death's Source.'
"August. What exactly IS the Source of Death?"
To Be Continued.