The limousine interior glowed softly in the dim light, casting shadows that masked the passengers. The soft hum of the engine created a soothing yet tune in the background. The smell of leather was in the air, as the plush seats, arranged comfortably, promised a cocoon of comfort.
On the inside there were three people of note.
One had an imposing, muscular build. His spiky, unkempt hair, which defied gravity; had a dark appearance, while his scarred face made him appear even fiercer. His single visible eye exudes a sharp, authoritative gaze. The other eye was covered by a dark-leather eye patch.
Sitting at the rear of the vehicle, he impatiently changed the channels on the flat-screen to pass time.
THUD
"Hmm, what was that noise?" He paused.
His eye twitched as his hand drifted towards a hidden weapon, his breath caught in his throat. The limousine's interior suddenly felt too quiet, the hum of the engine almost deafening in the stillness. The seconds stretched out, thick with anticipation, before another voice finally broke the tension.
"Probably just a pothole boss." The other person reassured.
His hair, a deep shade of purple, is neatly combed back. His deep, violet eyes are a shade of amethyst, shimmering like a polished gemstone. They're constantly, scanning the area, taking note of their surroundings. Contrary to his relaxed posture.
He's dressed in a black business suit that fits his athletic build perfectly. The jacket is open, revealing a crisp white shirt and a dark tie. His polished black shoes rest firmly on the floor, and his hand rests lightly on his knee, close to the concealed weapon in his jacket.
In that moment the server brought both of them glasses of sparkling wine with a tray of bottles of every variety, before taking his leave. A few moments later, both were done with their drinks.
On either side of the young man, two beautiful women are slumped against the plush, lounge-like seats, completely passed out.
"You know…. this city really needs some work done boss."
He slurred his words.
"Maybe I should ask the cul-"
"Be quiet!"
"Huh?!"
The man had enough of the youngster's nonsensical behaviour.
"Raymond!" He called out.
"Yes!"
He stood up, bumping his head on the roof.
"Ow!"
SIGH
"Sit your ass down."
"Right!"
Raymond's hand trembled slightly as he lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. The boss was calm, too calm in fact.
"Really, how can you call yourself a bodyguard in this state."
The words hung in the air, sharp as a blade, cutting through the silence of the limousine. Raymond swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his boss's gaze bearing down on him. He bowed his head.
"I'm sorry sir, I'm a light drinker."
"I can tell."
The young man looked slightly dejected at the remark.
"Never mind. It's my fault for allowing you to drink on the job."
The humming of the engine kept on running in the silence.
"Do you know why you were picked for this escort?"
"Yes, sir."
He clenched his fists in frustration.
"My father, sir."
The boss nodded to the answer.
"Yes."
"Your father's security agency has been doing escorts for us for a decade now."
"Hmm." He paused.
"So as a small favour, he asked us to take you in, and not just give you experience, but to make you great within our ranks."
The boy's face practically lit up with shock. It seems he has begun to sober up.
"Your skills are already decent enough to to put most mercenaries to shame, so it's only natural."
"Right!"
"But enough off that. We have more pressing matters to attend to, right Vincent?"
Attention suddenly turned to the last notable figure. The one who called for their aid.
"Go over the event again, in extreme detail."
After the narration of events both were beyond shocked.
"You actually expect me to believe that some cripple managed to kill Mike in one blow?" He was astonished.
"There's nothing else to say boss." Vincent answered with a heavy heart.
"How's that even possible! Wasn't he reinforced with Qi?" Raymond yelled.
"No." The boss spoke.
"If she could dodge a gunshot, then there's no telling how much force she can wield."
Vincent fell to his knees.
"Yes, boss. That's exactly my point."
He was relieved that they understood his situation.
"But I have another question."
"Huh?"
"What proof do you have?" He asked sternly.
"W-Wh-What?" Vincent responded.
"Did I stutter?"
"But…how could I do anything in that moment?" Vincent questioned.
"Sir, I do think he has a point." Raymond backed up.
"Yes, the best thing to do was escape and report this to the higher ups."
Vincent added.
His breaths started becoming more and more erratic due to the intensity of the scenario.
"And that's the problem. The fact that you're alive doesn't make sense."
This statement struck fear into the heart of Vincent.
"If such an entity was pissed off by you, then there's no reason to keep you alive."
Things just kept getting worse.
"Either, this is a trap you and Mike set up, or you sold us out to her."
Vincent was awestruck at how badly things had played out for him.
"N-N-No…. I could never do such a thing."
Vincent's breaths came in short, ragged bursts as he struggled to find the words. His hands, slick with sweat, clutched at his sides as his gaze flicked between the two, seeking any sign of mercy. The silence was unbearable, the boss's fingers drumming slowly on the seat beside him, each tap echoing like a countdown in Vincent's mind.
"Then explain how you're alive?" His voice was soft, almost like a whisper, but it carried the weight of a death sentence.
Vincent hesitated.
"I-I don't know."
"Ray." He called out.
"I understand, sir."
Raymond brought out a hand gun (HK USP).
"What?"
Vincent turned pale before the weapon.
"I'll give you two more chances to talk."
The man was at a loss for words.
"The only thing I know is that she left immediately after!" He screamed desperately.
"Bullshit!"
"One more chance."
"DAMMIT!!!" Vincent yelled.
"I'm not going to be put down like a dog!"
Vincent stood up in a desperate attempt to tackle the boss.
BANG
BANG
The shot rang out, shattering the intense narrative, and Vincent screamed as his legs buckled, blood pooling beneath him.
"For your sake mister Vincent, please give the boss the answer he wants to hear."
Vincent was on the ground, squirming in pain as both kneecaps were blasted apart within seconds.
Then the TV switched from the channels to a private broadcast network. Showing a blackened distorted screen.
"Calm down Mr Zeke." The voice spoke.
"Your ruthless nature isn't always necessary."
"What the hell are you doing? Doctor!"
"Well, I'm surprised you could recognize me; I've been listening in for a while now, and I must say this is quite the predicament isn't it?"
This seemed to get on Zeke's nerves.
"You pompous piece of shit!" He snapped.
"I'll ask that you know your place Mr Zeke. I am your superiors superior after all."
Zeke simply grunted.
"Now, I believe you forgot two other ways of explaining why Mr Vincent is alive."
This immediately garnered the attention of all three.
"There is the option that she was simply distraught, and only acted in self-defense." He proposed.
"Hmm, so basically this was her first kill." Zeke discerned.
"Possibly, or the much more likely answer."
"What?"
"She used him to track us down more easily."
BADUMP
BADUMP
BADUMP
Their hearts nearly skipped a beat.
"So you're saying-"
"Yes, you Mr Zeke are leading her right to your base of operations."
Zeke's grip tightened around his gun as the Doctor's words sank in, his knuckles turning white. Raymond's eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching in his throat. Vincent fell to the floor, the weight of the revelation pressing down like a great calamity, he no longer had the strength in his arms to raise himself up. The air in the limousine grew thick, suffocating, as the full horror of their situation became clear.
The limousine glided smoothly to a stop outside an old, looming warehouse. The sound of the engine faded into an eerie silence, leaving only the distant hum of the city as background noise.
"And it seems like you've just arrived." The doctor stated with satisfaction before ending the broadcast.
"Sirs, we have arrived at the warehouse." The driver said.
"RAYMOND! Go and warn the others of a potential attack!!!"
"Right!" He answered, speeding out of the car.
Zeke brought out his own gun, which wasn't suppressed. Shooting it right into the roof of the car.
The two ladies woke up from the noise out of their drunk slumber.
"The fun's over, GET OUT!"
They ran scared for their lives to god knows where.
Zeke stood up, leaving as well to prepare, but something was dragging at his feet.
"B-Bo-Bos-s." Vincent cried out.
The click of the gun being cocked was deafening in the silence. Vincent's breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with terror as he saw the barrel aimed at his skull. Time seemed to slow as he opened his mouth to plead, but no words came out, only a choked sob.
"You fxcking liability!"
BANG
Then he left.
In an undisclosed location, the heavy door to Dr. Victor Reinhart's office creaked open, revealing a grotesque contradiction, a place where brilliance and madness coexisted in a harmony. The walls were lined with framed degrees and certificates, each one a show of his unmatched expertise in every field of modern medicine.
Yet, such brilliance would be used to do no good.
The scene inside was nothing short of nightmarish. Lab tables, were cluttered with bloodstained surgical tools—scalpels, bone saws, needles—mingled with dark, ancient artifacts and symbols of devil worship. Glass jars filled with preserved organs and ominous, blue substances lined the shelves, their contents bubbling with a life of their own.
In the center of the room, a massive wooden table dominated the space, its surface marred by deep scars and dark stains from countless brutal procedures. Leather restraints hung from its sides, ready to bind the next victim.
He turned on the dim office lights, his gaze drifting towards the ritualistic circle etched on the floor, the symbols pulsing faintly with an energy that always unsettled him, even after all these years. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the echoes of his work and the weight of his thoughts, that the voices began to stir once more..
"Oh, what kind of specimen could this Sasha be?" he mused aloud, his voice dripping with intrigue.
"Maybe she has cybernetic enhancements? Or maybe not..."
"But then there's the problem of money... and maintenance."
The voice echoed from the recesses of his mind.
"You idiot! She was living off the organization's money. There's no way she could afford something like that."
The voice was sharp, irritated by his speculation.
"Right, right, sorry... but then again, what if she saved up money from her jobs?" the first voice suggested, sounding almost hopeful.
"And who in their right mind would give a cripple a job in this day and age?" the second voice snapped back, dripping with sarcasm.
"Fair point," the first voice conceded, deflated. Victor's mind continued to churn, but now with a touch of frustration.
"Then maybe she's an ex-member of the cult? Or an angel sent down to save the world?" The first voice wondered aloud, drifting off into wild imagination.
"Did you not listen to anything that fool said before he died?" The second voice interrupted, trying to rein in the conversation.
"How do you even know he's dead? They could've kept him alive for all we know." The first voice argued, a hint of desperation creeping in.
"Don't be naive!" The second voice scolded harshly.
"Don't be so pessimistic!" The first voice shot back, refusing to back down.
"Enough, both of you!" A third voice, cut through the bickering.
"Oh, sorry." The first voice murmured.
"And who the hell made you in charge?" The second voice spat, in resentment.
"I am in charge." The third voice declared.
"You two are just branch personalities, safeguards in case anything happens to this one."
"I'm not your fxcking spare!" The second voice snapped, fury lacing its words.
Sigh
"Albeit, you both are more defective than expected." He remarked, his voice cold and detached, as if discussing a failed experiment rather than the fractured pieces of his own psyche.
"Hmph!"
"Sorry." The first voice whispered.
"I think that's enough free time for today." Victor concluded.
"Begone with you two."
And just like that, the voices fell silent, leaving him alone in the echoing void of his own mind. His body, once again, was fully under his control, but the silence felt heavier than before.
"To think, I'm just another branch like the both of them."
He muttered, the weight of the realization settling heavily on his shoulders.
"To think, I'm just another branch like the both of them," he muttered, the weight of the realization settling heavily on his shoulders. The original man he once was—his true personality—had long been mangled and destroyed, ground down by the relentless psychological strain of his work and the cult's twisted demands.
"At this rate, I'll die before reaching three hundred."
*HAHAHAHA*
The laughter echoed through the empty room, a reminder of the fractured mind it came from.
Victor was a simple man, or at least he had been once. Grey hair, average looks, and the same type of lab coat every day—these were the hallmarks of a man who had once lived a life of order and routine. But now, the only thing that mattered was his work and the whims of the cult leader he served. The man he had once been was gone, leaving only this hollow shell, driven by the insatiable need to discover, to experiment, to control.
Huff
As he sat down, the leather of his chair creaking under his weight, he opened a folder documenting the events of the last year. His eyes scanned the pages, but his mind was already elsewhere, lost in the possibilities that lay ahead.
The Stellar (Formally known as the Golden Blur in the early days of their appearance)
Age: 19-27
Weight: ???
Height: ???
Identity: ???
(Known) Feats: Bested a Fallen
Bested 12 Undead
Bested Undead King
Flattened Leviathan City
(Unconfirmed) Feats: Cleared the Spawn Fields
Erased continents as collateral damage
Destroyed chunks of the planets crust
Incinerated and Rebuilt the moon
Shook the planet multiple times
Caused storms across the globe
Produced enough energy to light up the entire
solar system, even blinding all telescopes and
satellites
Shook the universe according to the cult leader
Alignment: Good
Origins: ??? (Potentially a result of divine interference)
Locations: Willow fall, Leviathan, (Potentially Mayson City)
"Hmm, and they disappeared soon after."
After some time of thought he came to a conclusion.
"She's different," he muttered to himself, the words barely a whisper in the stillness of the room.
"Something else entirely."