Asher awoke to the dim light of dawn filtering through the curtains, the warmth of Renee beside him grounding him in the moment. He glanced at her peaceful face, the softness of her features a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in his mind. The kiss from last night replayed in his thoughts, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of the captain's words—the unspoken duty that loomed over him like a dark cloud.
He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and quietly slipped out of bed. The remnants of the night's warmth lingered on his skin, but a chill settled in his gut as he steeled his resolve. The world outside awaited, and it demanded action.
In the living room, Asher took a moment to gather his thoughts. The echoes of laughter and warmth from the previous night felt distant now. His heart raced with the realization that he couldn't afford to hesitate. The captain had given him an opening, and he intended to seize it. The security firm was a blight on his city, a predator lurking in the shadows, responsible for black market smuggling and human trafficking, and it was time to eliminate the threat.
Throughout the day, Asher moved through Menthil City like a phantom, acquiring what he needed for the night ahead. A silver stiletto glinted in his pocket, his loyal partner. He also secured an extra revolver from the black market, fearing he wouldn't have time to reload his original weapon in the heat of the moment. He donned a smooth white full-face mask.
As night fell, darkness enveloped the city, providing the perfect cover for his approach. He found a neighboring building that overlooked the warehouse, the nest of the security firm rising ominously against the moonlit sky. As he crouched on the rooftop, memories flooded back—he and Jack's folly from yesterday when they'd underestimated their enemies, believing they could carelessly approach.
Asher clenched his jaw at the thought. They had been naive, and the consequences of that naivety had cost them dearly. But this time would be different. He wouldn't allow himself to be blindsided again.
From his vantage point, Asher spied at least a dozen guards patrolling the perimeter. There must be more inside—he guessed at least three dozen. He sighed and sent his dark knight ahead, the shadowy figure slipping into the depths of the night. She lurked in the shadows, patiently waiting for the patrolling guards to venture too far into her embrace. Asher followed behind; one by one, she ruthlessly eliminated them, absorbing their essence as they fell, unaware of the danger lurking just beyond their line of sight.
The night stretched on, and Asher remained vigilant, watching as his knight dispatched each guard with ruthless efficiency. Only when he was certain they were almost all eliminated did he make his move. He approached the center of the building.
Two men stood on either side of the heavy door, rifles in hand, the flickering light from the ceiling casting long shadows across their faces.
One of them, Danny, puffed on a cigar, his suit loud with a pattern that screamed bad taste. He shifted uncomfortably, looking at his partner, who fidgeted with his gun. Both men wore equally tacky suits, more like low-level grunts than professional security.
"Danny, you think the Crows are gonna come back?" the man beside him asked, his voice cracking slightly, trying to mask his unease.
Danny took the cigar out of his mouth, blowing a plume of smoke into the dim hallway. "Dogshit! Those stupid birds are too scared of the boss. They wouldn't dare."
Their conversation was cut short by a faint sound—soft footsteps, slowly growing louder. At first, they thought nothing of it, but the steps didn't stop. Instead, they grew closer, echoing down the long corridor, deliberate and unnerving.
Danny turned his head, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell is that?" His hand tightened around his rifle.
From the shadows emerged a figure. A man, tall and dressed in a long black trench coat, his face completely obscured by a white, featureless mask. The only mark on it was a small blue lightning bolt running through the left eye—an odd, unsettling detail.
"Hey!" Danny barked, stepping forward. "Who the hell are you?"
The figure didn't respond. The man's footsteps continued, slow and methodical, closing the distance between them.
Danny's heart pounded in his chest. His partner shifted nervously, conjuring fire in his hand, ready to blow the stranger away. His eyes darted between Danny and the masked man. "What do we do?"
Still no answer from the figure. Just the steady tap... tap of his shoes against the floor.
Danny cursed under his breath. His partner was frozen, the grip on his gun slick with sweat. Without warning, Danny raised his rifle. "You better stop right there, freak, or I'll blow you away!"
Step...
The masked man remained unfazed, his pace unchanged.
Step...
"I said stop!" Danny's voice cracked as he raised the gun, finger trembling over the trigger.
Inside, two voices drifted through the door, their tones casual, oblivious to the chaos outside.
"Why is it so quiet?" one man behind the desk asked.
"I don't know. Those idiots are probably slacking off again. Bloody hell."
"Go check on them, moron. You're not any better, slacking off in my office."
"Fine! I'll go."
The man downed his drink and tossed his cigarette aside, pushing open the door. The blood froze in his veins as he was greeted by the barrel of Asher's revolver. He didn't even have time to scream before his head exploded, showering the room in a gruesome display.
Asher stepped inside, the scent of gunpowder and death filling the air. The boss, a man with slicked-back hair, nearly pissed himself at the sight of the masked figure before him, guns drawn.
"How did you get in here?! Guards! GUARDS!" he shouted, panic lacing his voice.
Asher shot the man in the knee, silencing him. "Shut your filthy mouth. They're not coming. They're all dead."
The room went silent, the reality of Asher's words sinking in.