Dressed in an all-black tux, a tall, silver-haired man strolled elegantly through a stretched corridor. In his arms was Bowen, unconscious but cleaned up.
He reached a large door and pushed it open. Inside, a figure sat hunched over a desk, scribbling in a notebook, earbuds in.
This was Shepherd. Dressed in a black sheep mask and an oversized turtleneck, he barely reacted as the man entered. A silver necklace peeked from under the fabric, its meaning unknown.
"I've returned, Shepherd," the man said, lowering Bowen to the floor.
Shepherd didn't even look up.
With a sigh, the man straightened. "Kalo: Pawn." He clapped his hands together.
In an instant, a dwarf in noble medieval attire appeared, dagger in hand. He lunged at Shepherd, only to be stopped by a floating brick wall that materialized just in time. The impact shattered it into pieces.
Shepherd calmly removed his earbuds, still unfazed.
"Release," the man murmured. The dwarf vanished as if he was never there.
Shepherd, still writing, finally spoke. "What's the news, Nigel Carrington?"
"Bad news first," Carrington replied. "Akira's mission… it failed."
Shepherd's pen paused for just a moment before he resumed writing. "Anything else?" he asked, as indifferent as ever.
Carrington kept his eyes on Shepherd. "The boy's been captured by the Dove Corporation. They're planning to execute him in three days."
The sharp snap of a pencil breaking cut through the silence. Shepherd stopped writing, letting the weight of the news settle. Then, he finally spoke. "Who is he?" referring to Bowen.
Carrington shrugged. "Not sure. But he seemed important to someone… enough that we might be able to use him as leverage later."
Shepherd shot him a look. "You said he's getting executed."
Carrington smirked. "You really think that'll happen? I doubt they'll even get the chance."
He leaned in. "Something tells me we're not the only ones after him. He's the last son of the Iche family… and that makes him very valuable."
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Sir Holland sat at his desk, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. Captain Gozen leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"You sure about this execution, Edgar?" Gozen's voice broke the silence.
Holland smirked. "Mate, he's a bloody Fiend host. We haven't caught one in years! And not just any host, he might be their leader. This is too big to pass up."
Gozen pushed off the wall with a sigh. "Or... we could use him to track down the rest. Maybe even turn him to Dovanity and add some real firepower to our army."
Holland's smile vanished. "Over my dead body. Work with those devils? Convert him? You think a Dove would ever accept housing one of those things?"
Gozen held his gaze. "Executing him right away is a waste. Stop letting your emotions get in the way of logic."
Holland stood so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "What the hell did you just say?"
Before Gozen could answer, the desk phone rang. Holland shot him an icy glare before picking up. "Sir Holland speaking..."
His expression shifted from anger to pure disbelief. "What!?" His voice rang through the room, leaving Gozen on edge.
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Outside, in the prison courtyard, a shirtless figure stood in the centre, his well-built body and flowing blonde hair exuding nothing but confidence.
This was Alko Jansen, a boy in his late teens, his identity concealed behind a mask.
"Get on the ground! Take the mask off and get on the ground!" One of the officers, red-faced with fury, barked out orders.
Alko, undeterred, glanced around, smirking beneath his mask. "Nice."
With a flourish, he clasped his hands together. "Kalo: Smaak van Doel." Two beer cans materialized in his hands. With a gleeful chuckle, he smacked the cans together, lifted his mask right above his mouth and raised the cans above his head letting the golden liquid pour into his waiting mouth.
His grin took on a malicious edge as he pulled his mask down and compressed the cans.
Taking a heavy step forward, he hurled the cans at the astonished officers. Like bullets, they soared through the air, slamming into the foreheads of two officers, instantly rendering them unconscious.
The remaining officers stared in surprise, inching backwards slightly.
"Bring it on!" Alko shouted with glee.
An officer stammered, "A-activate your Kalo!"
Following the order, the officers clasped their hands together, summoning an array of entities – from deadly weapons to savage animals.
"Attack!" One of the officers roared.
Taking the call as a challenge, Alko charged headfirst into the fray. With a graceful leap, he landed on an officer's head, knee first, sending the man sprawling unconscious.
Another swung a machete at him, but Alko ducked under it with ease, retaliating with a brutal one-two punch to the face and a swift kick to the gut.
An officer attempted to attack him with a cricket bat, but Alko nimbly dodged it, swept the officer's legs from beneath him, and sent him flying.
Another officer appeared, swinging a nunchaku. Alko, however, blocked and parried each strike with alarming precision before grabbing the officer's collar and smashing his nose with a jumping knee.
Suddenly, a squadron of majestic eagles descended upon him, their talons menacingly outstretched. With swift, decisive movements, Alko spun around, fists clenched, pulverizing the birds with a fierce whirl of his fists.
A pack of four salivating hyenas launched themselves towards him from the crowd. Alko responded with an extraordinary show of agility, neutralizing each one with ease.
The next opponent to face Alko was a colossal gorilla, fists slamming into him with terrifying force. Alko, however, merely gripped the gorilla's hands, his smirk never wavering. As the gorilla stared, caught in a moment of stupefaction, Alko yanked it forward and delivered a powerful headbutt, rendering the beast unconscious.
"Move out of the way!" A commanding voice echoed through the courtyard.
The officers parted like a sea, revealing a formidable officer clutching three axes in each hand. With a resolute step, he hurled them at Alko.
Yet, Alko darted forward, effortlessly evading the spinning axes. Closing the distance, the officer withdrew another axe, but Alko slipped beneath its deadly arc and countered with a brutal three-piece combo, instantly dropping his adversary.
Then, five officers lined up in formation, machine guns gripped in their hands. "Fire!" One of them ordered.
In response, Alko executed a corkscrew flip into the air, evading the hailstorm of bullets.
Landing with cat-like grace, he opened his hands to reveal the bullets he'd caught mid-air. The officers gawked in disbelief.
"What the..." one officer started, only for Alko to interrupt.
"Here, you can have them back." And with that, he flicked his hands, sending the bullets hurtling back, embedding themselves into the officers.
"Come on...come on...I need more!" Alko taunted, his grin widening with each passing moment. His thirst for the fight was far from quenched.
Meanwhile, within the building, Kimberley, a Caucasian in her late teens as well with a mask concealing her features and long, flowing jet black hair with streaks of purple, sprinted across the first floor. Her eyes fixated on an elevator situated at the room's far end.
A feminine voice reverberated through her earbuds. "Head to the 12th floor. There's an elevator nearby..."
"I see it," Kimberley replied, her breath steady despite her exertion.
"Be careful, though. They're coming your way."
"Good."
As the elevator doors slid open, a multitude of Dove officers stormed towards Kimberley, eyes blazing with determination. "There she is!" One of them exclaimed. "Let's take her down!" echoed another.
Kimberley merely clasped her hands together, an air of calm determination surrounding her. "Kalo: Divine '19," she murmured, and a sleek BB pistol materialised in her hand.
One of the officers let loose a flurry of darts while four others sprinted headlong towards her. With a dancer's grace, Kimberley somersaulted between the lethal projectiles, squeezing off a bullet towards the dart thrower in mid-air. The bullet found its mark, and the officer dropped to the floor.
She landed, only to face the four charging officers. Moving in a blur, she dispatched them with an impressive display of hand-to-hand combat and precise shots from her pistol.
"Come on, it's just a few broken bones. You're lucky I'm using BBs," she taunted, stepping over the writhing bodies and into the elevator.
"There's no -1..." Kimberley mused aloud, scanning the elevator buttons.
"Right, this elevator doesn't get there. You'll have to take the special elevator," the voice in her earbud, Atamai, informed her.
Kimberley sighed, pressing the button for the seventh floor. The gentle hum of elevator music filled the space, and she tapped her foot to the rhythm.
Abruptly, the elevator halted on the third floor. "There are more waiting for you... they're heavily armed..." Atamai warned her.
"Really?" Kimberley asked, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice. She made a steeple with her hands. "Benedi: Auto-Dodge."
As the elevator doors creaked open, she was greeted by the sight of four officers, rifles trained on her. "Fire!" an officer ordered.
As a hailstorm of bullets filled the elevator, Kimberley became a flickering wraith, nimbly evading every single projectile. Eventually, the gunfire ceased, the officers having exhausted their ammunition. Their jaws dropped in astonishment as Kimberley stood in the elevator, untouched and grinning.
"Bye!" she cheerfully waved as the elevator doors slid shut, leaving the stunned officers behind. The soothing elevator music resumed, filling the small space with its melody.
"Did you see the look on their faces?" Kimberley chuckled, a note of triumph in her voice.
Atamai's voice crackled in her ear, breaking through the amusement. "Be careful. Others are waiting on the 7th. That's your floor."
"Ugh, seriously?" Kimberley sighed, reaching into her waist bag. Her fingers wrapped around two small rubber balls.
The elevator arrived at the seventh floor, and the doors opened to reveal a mass of Dove officers. Armed with an array of melee weapons - staffs, golf clubs, hammers - they appeared prepared for a tough fight.
"That's her!" One of them yelled, pointing directly at Kimberley.
"Don't let her get to the Fiend kid's dungeon!" Another shouted, rallying his colleagues.
Unfazed, Kimberley lobbed the two rubber balls high above the assembled officers and fired at them with her pistol.
The bullets pierced through the balls, exploding with a brilliant flash of light and emitting a disorienting bang. The effect was immediate and devastating. "Argh!" "Shit!" "My eyes!" The officers cried out in disarray, temporarily blinded and thrown off balance.
As the dazzling light flooded the area, Kimberley sprang into action. Moving like a shadow amidst the chaos, she dispatched the officers one by one, her gun barking repeatedly.
Eventually, the light began to dim, revealing the aftermath of Kimberley's rapid assault. She stood amidst a sea of unconscious bodies, gun still smoking in her hand. With a small smirk, she blew the smoke away, satisfied with the path she had cleared.
Kimberley softly walked through the dark and eerie dungeon, her boots echoing on the stone floor. The walls were lined with jail cells, each one barred by cobwebs and exuding a heavy sense of emptiness.
At the end of the long corridor, she came upon a cell with luminous blue, laser-like bars. Inside, she could see a figure slumped against the cold concrete floor. It was Udo, battered and unresponsive.