Even the most necessary of evils must be committed for the sake of a better tomorrow. In the gray eyes of Uriel Barron, necessary was a lot more than an understatement. Notwithstanding Demise entangled in his strings, he required more. Stronger villains fed on despair and disrupted the flow of society's peace. The very epitome of distortion itself.
'I don't like monsters. That's the truth I chose.'
Once the mutilator finished slaughtering the cops in the alleyway, he found himself bloody and alone. Holding a decapitated head over his face, he drank from the stout their torn neck formed. Just in the middle of enjoying his meal, a paper caught his eye. Dropping the skull, he caught the flimsy paper between two extremities and hummed. His blue eyes briefly examined the writing; spotting a hovering drone fleeing from the scenery above him.
"Nameless the Cruel. A serial killer who uses Fate to mutilate his victims in terrible ways. At times, he keeps them alive while doing so, allowing them to stay completely conscious as he tears them apart limb from limb. On the Violator ranking chart, he's a Danger One. Not much else is known about him except for the fact he's one of the few in our kingdom to be born with demonic, elfin ears. A proper freak."
The merciless boxer, a girl with brown skin and white hair, bandaged her right hand as she sat on a locker room bench after the match. Amid tending her injuries, a suited man in sunglasses walked over to her from behind, enveloping her in his shadow. Peering over her shoulder, she spotted a business card hovering over her skin. After snatching and reading it quickly, she looked back over her shoulder, only to see the man had vanished from where he once stood behind her.
'Interesting…' she pondered.
"Marie the Insatiable. After training with the Syndicate and becoming a Fate-user, she discovered her innate Predestined Power. Baffled by its strength, she sought out challenge after challenge, often disappointed by the weakness of her opponents. Eventually, she decided to abandon the Syndicate and learn boxing, where she participated in an underground fighting arena which allowed her to battle with no holds barred. She is most definitely one of the worst of all Violators."
Returning home from work as the day was beginning to dwindle, a pink-haired lady threw herself onto the couch, enjoying the coolness of her apartment's insides. Her head thrown back, she loudly sighed into the chilly air around her, taking an ice-cold water bottle from her sweater pocket and placing it on her head.
"It's so hot…" she exasperated aloud.
Her left hand shuffled around the innards of her pocket, only to be met with the revelation of a business card hidden within her hoodie. She quickly read the paper and giggled upon finishing, a crazed grin opening her closed lips. With this invitation, the potential for the despair she could sow was boundless–identical to the limits of her Predestined Power.
Unable to contain her excitement, she bounced right up from the sofa, skipping across her home's wooden floorboards to make her way to the basement. Rhythmically stepping down the steps to her dungeon to the tune of the music playing in her head, she flicked her head aside, throwing the hair covering her eye away to put that sadistic smirk on full display.
Yanking the metal door to the depths open easily, she stepped in, snatching the torch off the wall, periodically waving it around to illuminate the area before her. It was exactly the way she'd left it: littered with corpses, each slaughtered in different ways to exhibit the extent of her insanity. Fingertips slick with her victims' dried blood, she manically glared ahead, pink eyes glowing with her love for despair. Sticking her appendages in her wide-open mouth, she stifled another giggle.
"Sadie the Sadist. The unfortunate result of human experimentation. Attempting to manually imbue an individual with Predestined Powers without the genetic marker for it produces a being without sanity. As the scientists under the King were unable to allocate a way to activate such abilities within the poor girl, she was subject to immense trauma, pressure, and pain for several years. The details behind her escape are a mystery but their theory was likely correct. Forcing a subject to endure countless years of agony unintentionally activates something within the victim to experience a sort of awakening. From the day forward of that awakening, Sadie found herself plagued by a love for despair and unsurpassable strength in the form of her brutal innate technique."
Seated across from one another on opposite beds, the Mastermind of the Syndicate relayed his information to his red-eyed pawn.
Demise removed the hand from his mouth. "I see. So these three are to be my new comrades?" he asked.
Uriel nodded and scratched his chin. "Indeed. Sadie and Marie should be quite controllable, Nameless on the other hand…"
"Not to be rude, my liege," Demise's voice led the Angel to raise his head. "The Sadist sounds quite crazy herself. If I were you, I'd worry more about her than him. I hope you don't mind me asking… but is there a reason you seem so lax about the idea of puppets her?"
Having already maintained eye contact, after a few more seconds, Uriel slowly blinked. "She and I have a history. As of right now, that's all I'll tell you. I'll tell you more when the time is right. Maybe. Don't count on it."
"I understand. What of Marie? Is she not as insane as the other two?" Demise asked.
"She's quite sane. She should work just fine if I 'pay her accordingly' and 'promise her a good fight'. I'd advise you to get along with her the most." Uriel stood up from the bed across from Demise, hiding one hand in his pants pocket. "After all, I decided to give you the liberty of bunking with her instead of one of the other two."
"Do you know when they'll be arriving?"
Already having finished walking away from the pawn, Uriel stood in front of the door outside his quarters. Turning around one last time, the Angel paraded a polite smile and put a finger to his lips.
"That's enough questions for now."
Closing the door following his exit, Uriel sighed. Satiating the sharp pain plaguing his temples using his open palm, familiar images started flashing through his head. Images—best left forgotten.
It seemed they were always on opposing sides, no matter their displacement. A shaky sigh slithered out his mouth. The light from the phone shone onto his face, reminding him of the memories
'We'll laugh about this someday.'
Laying flat on his bed, Talen spontaneously rose, feeling his phone's incessant vibration sink into the covers. Lazily searching around the mattress, he eventually dug under him, staring at the device he was sleeping on and staring at the screen flashing a contact's name. Rubbing away his hazy vision, Amit recognized Anthony's name, slowly accepting the call and putting the phone to his ear.
"Hello…?" His groggy voice asked.
"Damn, sounds like you just woke up. Anyway, listen to this: a Professional Enforcer got woke up after being treated at the Metropolitan Center. She says she wants to speak to you. You should get over there as fast as you can… and make sure to floss, I can smell your breath from here."
With that, Tony hung up, leaving Talen to stew in the coldness of his room. Feeling his bones creak with every minuscule movement, the lawyer sat up, instinctively groaning while scratching the back of his head. Memories of the prior night soared through his conscience, all the while he subconsciously enacted his usual morning routine.
Upon entering the bathroom and using the toilet, he inevitably splashed water into his face. Digging into his eyes to flick out the gunk within, he pushed down his eyelids, noticing the dark circles ingrained underneath.
'That must be the first night of full sleep I've had since I was 16 years old.'
He chuckled, staring at his reflection. 'I'm so pathetic.'
…
May 14th, 2022. Morning.
The Amit Metropolitan Center is the headquarters for professional Enforcers that use their Fate-manipulating abilities to thwart the malicious schemes of villainous Violators. Founded by Talen's grandfather of the disbanded Amit House, Atlas.
Patiently posted outside the Center's gate entrance, Anthony sat up, spotting Talen's figure inch ever closer.
"Took you long enough. What kept ya?"
"When I walked outside, I realized how hot it was so I decided to go back in and take off the jacket," Tal said, holding a coffee cup in one hand.
Tony snickered, draping an arm over his friend's nape. "And here I thought you just wanted to show off!"
"That's not…" he sighed, defeated. "Let's just get this over with."
Talen and Anthony started walking, gazing at the twin buildings that made up the Amit Metropolitan Center. Workers and enforcers alike left and entered, mostly in casual clothing; the minority dressed professionally. Depending on who they passed, the duo would be greeted, leading Talen to roll his eyes as Tony waved back politely.
"You haven't changed, huh?" Anthony teased.
They finally made their way into the Metropolitan Center, standing before the wide-grand entrance. Hands pocketed in his red hoodie, Tony's head turned, watching Talen step forward as a scanner revealed itself from the door and analyzed both Fate-users.
"Recognized. Talen Amit, S01. Anthony Whitlock, S04," welcomed the automated voice.
"M'surprised they didn't revoke your access," Tony smirked, crossing his arms and leaning on the doorframe.
"Shut up."
Once the doors opened, they were met with the marble-reflective wooden floor of an academy's ground. Students and faculty walked around casually, younglings chatting amongst their friends, teachers moving with Enforcers beside them.
Talen whistled. "Hasn't changed a bit," he said, sipping from his coffee cup.
Tony looked at his friend. "Really? You went here?"
"For a bit. But, that was a long time ago. If I remember correctly, the infirmary should be on the third floor. C'mon."
Strolling through the academic corridor, Talen ignored any greetings, drinking from the coffee one more time until he bypassed a trash can. His hands now at his sides, he made his way upstairs. As Anthony followed from behind, his breaths grew heavier until they reached the fifth floor.
Bending over immediately, Tony held his knees "Isn't there… an elevator…?"
Talen smirked and glanced at his friend. "That's what you get for making me get up so early. Here, take this and get two glasses of water. Been a while since I had a workout like that too."
Once Anthony stood up, the lawyer handed him a bag of coins. The duo continued walking together, the younger of the two noticing the colder shading of the white walls and ceiling. Spotting a vending machine at the hall's end, Tony sped-walked toward it, rapidly pushing the buttons to produce two drinks of water. While his friend was preoccupied, Talen peeked into the room directly right of the machine.
Shoving one arm into a leather jacket and throwing her hair out from the collar that hid it, Amit groaned. To the sound of that irritation, she abruptly halted. A small smile started appearing, extending to display the hidden dimples embedded in her cheeks. Refraining from turning around completely, she parted her lips and spoke into the air.
"Well, it certainly has been a while." Alora spun around, grinning at her former partner. "Nice to see you again, Talen."
Trivia: Alora Illustrious was born on May 26th, 1993. She has dark skin and blue eyes. Her hair is grey with a scar over her nose. Her hair is pretty short, as it only goes down to her nape. She works as a freelance professional Enforcer outside the jurisdictions of the Kingdom, beyond the knowledge of the usual masses and from the Amit Metropolitan Center. As an Enforcer, she's Rank-1 and possesses the 'All-Knowing Eye' Predestined Power.