In a dimly lit control room, the glow of large monitors cast flickering shadows across the walls. The air hummed softly with the low buzz of machinery, punctuated by the occasional click of a keyboard. Two men sat opposite each other, both dressed in dark guard uniforms. The older one slouched in his chair, glued to his phone, while the younger one leaned toward a monitor displaying a digital map of Haloway, sectioned into four quadrants. Only the upper-left quadrant pulsed a faint blue, indicating active surveillance.
"Tch, Angel Company fell off hard," the older guard lamented, his voice thick with frustration. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Why did it only start tanking after I spent most of my life's savings buying their bonds? I'm dead when my old lady finds out."
The younger guard smirked, barely glancing up. "It dropped in the Company Rankings again?" He tapped the screen, shifting the map's view. "Come to think of it, when was the last time their Revenants took down anything other than some measly Thrall types?"
"Ugh, transferring their star player, Vahari, over to Wayne Company was a stupid decision. Even if they were low on funds!"
The younger guard chuckled. "I agree with you there, but I can't say I feel sorry for you. I convinced my father to get a 3% stake in Wayne Company, so you can only guess how ecstatic I am. I'm considering quitting this job to attend a real university.
"Wipe that smug look off your face. How can you quit when you just joi—"
A sudden, ear-piercing alarm cut him off. Red warning lights flared to life, bathing the room in an ominous glow. The younger guard's screen blinked violently, a single red dot appearing beneath the grid of Five Street.
"Crap," the younger guard muttered, already typing rapidly. "A Reaper type appeared below Five Street." His eyes flickered across the screen, scanning the data. "Heat signatures suggest at least six civilians in its immediate proximity."
The younger guard shot an inquisitive glance at the older guard.
The older guard sat up, his phone forgotten. His face hardened, trading casual disinterest for the sharp focus of experience.
"As long as it's not a Brute or a Wraith, call it to any Company with the nearest available Revenant."
"Roger."
The younger guard pressed a button, his fingers moving quickly to enter the emergency code. The automated system kicked in, sending a priority alert to the nearest Revenant.
"North-west surveillance team," he spoke into the comm. "A Reaper type Marauder has appeared in a subway under Five Street. Civilian presence confirmed. I repeat—"
As Rhys stood frozen in place, debating between his fight-or-flight responses, the creature that had once been an old woman lunged towards the petrified teenage girl. The air snapped—a sharp, wet crack as its limbs twisted too fast. Its claws flashed, skin peeling back like dried bark. Its gnarled fingers stretched towards the girl, the surrounding air vibrating as if the laws of physics were shattering around it.
The internal debate within Rhys halted as his instincts screamed at him. Move. Now.
Rhys threw himself forward, crashing into the girl and sending them into the stiff embrace of the metal floor. The impact rattled his ribs, but there was no time to process the pain. The Reaper slammed into the seat behind them, metal screeching as its claws tore through synthetic leather and steel.
A guttural howl erupted from its throat.
Rhys grabbed the girl's wrist, yanking her to her feet. Run. We have to run. He turned his body in the opposite direction and—
The Reaper was already in front of them, blocking the aisle.
Its face was barely human at this point; its mouth had split open too wide, jagged rows of fangs pushing out like shards of broken glass. The creature's empty eye sockets seethed with black mist, with tendrils writhing like earthworms beneath its skin.
"Refff…ined woman!" It shrieked as the last remnants of its humanity escaped from its mouth.
Rhys and the girl barely ducked in time as its claws carved through the air where their heads had been.
The girl desperately scrambled for anything her hands could come into contact with. Eventually, she picked up a piece of steel that had broken off from the destroyed railing. She immediately swung and stabbed the creature's lower torso.
Seemingly unaffected, the Reaper kicked the girl into the homeless people who had gathered at the farthest end of the car, knocking her out.
Upon seeing this, Rhys felt like an electric current had run through his skin, and he began scrambling for anything. Please. Anything.
His finger closed around cold steel. It was a fire extinguisher.
But Rhys did not care what it was and just swung.
Crack!
The metal cylinder collided with the reaper's skull.
A person's skull would have caved in…but why is this thing still standing?
The Reaper merely twitched, its head rolling to the side before snapping back into place with a sickening crunch. Its eyes widened and stared deep into Rhys's soul.
Shit. Allow it, man.
The train rattled violently, screeching against the rails. The next station was close. If they could just—
The Reaper seized him.
Its claws punctured his shoulder, hoisting him into the air with terrifying ease. The pain was instantaneous, a searing white hot agony that shot through his arm.
"Ahhhhhhh—" a blood-curdling scream escaped Rhys' mouth before his breath vanished
Then came the pressure.
The tearing.
The sound of flesh rending.
Rhys barely had time to finish screaming before the Reaper ripped off his left arm away at the shoulder.
His vision went white as his body began convulsing. The severed limb fell to the floor with a wet thud. Blood sprayed across the train walls, thick and dark, the crimson pooling beneath his boots.
Am I seriously going to die?
The monster hurled him like discarded trash as the train was coming to a halt at the next stop.
The train door exploded open.
Cold wind roared past his ears as Rhys was flung onto the platform. Before Rhys could register the change in his surroundings—
Thud.
The concrete floor had met him with a blunt pain that turned everything white.
I can't breathe.
He lay sprawled across the subway platform—the world twisted and distant. Blood poured from his mangled shoulder, a crimson tide creeping outward. His body twitched violently, the overwhelming pain reducing his thoughts to nothing but static.
Somewhere beyond the agony, he heard it.
The hurried steps of the people in the subway running for their lives. He also faintly heard an argument, but could only make out the last bit.
"What are you doing, you idiot?! Drop the girl if you want to live"
"Uh…f**k! Okay, she was gonna drag me down anyway"
Scum.
Rhys felt rage from no one helping him, but only for a split second. He couldn't help but feel like he should have done the same thing—gotten the hell out of there as soon as he sensed something was off. Girl be damned.
But his body moved as if a command had come from deep down his soul to protect the girl. Why is that?
So you fancy yourself a hero now, eh, Rhys? Congratulations, here's your reward.
Rhys couldn't help but laugh at himself in his current predicament. After all, until a week ago, self-preservation was his one and goal before coming to Haloway.
Mr Benefactor. You took pity on a random street kid who even tried to steal from you. I could survive, thanks to you. Now look at me, about to die in an unknown city without even getting to know your whereabouts. And just because of a random girl I met on the subway. Hope you're proud; looks like your investment paid off.
Just then, he heard another sound. A wet, crawling sound.
A shadow unfurled from the wrecked train, only focused on Rhys, its jagged form skittering over broken glass and twisted metal. The once-human creature tilted its head unnaturally, a single rattling breath slithering into the silence.
Move. Move dammit!
His body ignored him.
The Reaper reared back, its claws gleaming with the crimson of blood, poised for the killing blow.
This was it.
Then—
A sound split the air.
A deep vibrating hum, like a blade being unsheathed from the fabric of reality itself.
The creature froze mid-strike. Its claw falling beside Rhys' body.
The subway lights shattered, plunging the station into absolute darkness—except for a single figure standing behind the beast.
A blade glinted in the dim glow of the emergency exit with dark mist surrounding the blade, emitting ethereal sounding murmurs.
The figure took a single step forward.
A clean, effortless cut severed it at the elbow. Blackened fluid sprayed across the platform, sizzling as it hit the concrete. The Reaper howled—releasing a piercing, unnatural shriek that was clearly not of this world.
The creature attempted to fight back and lunged at the figure, but the figure did not show any sign of hesitating and unleashed a succession of precise attacks that looked like a whirlwind surrounding the Reaper.
Rhys could barely follow, and by the time his eyes caught up, the creature had already been reduced to twitching limbs and shredded remains.
The figure straightened, stepping over the wreckage. Their blade dripped with obsidian blood. The subway's faint red lights cast an eerie glow over their silhouette as the figure muttered to themselves.
"They seriously called me in for a Reaper?"
Rhys gasped, his consciousness slipping further.
His remaining arm twitched, fingers curling instinctively as he tried—and failed—to lift himself.
"What a joke," snarled the figure.
The last thing Rhys saw was a pair of burning amber eyes staring down at him through the darkness.
Then—
Nothing.