A lone figure stood on top of a rusted pole above Azure's sleeping skyline.
Coat fluttering in the cold wind.
Face hidden under a shadowed hood.
Hair unseen.
Silent. Watching.
Without warning—
he stepped off and vanished into the darkness below.
---
Azure Sewers — Informant Faction Base
Down in the damp underbelly of the city, where pipes groaned and mold shaped itself into patterns like symbols, the Informants moved in silence. Papers exchanged hands. Secrets traded like currency. Everyone busy — everyone listening.
Then—
A sharp sound.
Barely audible.
But one of them—a white-haired boy with the gift of Extreme Hearing—froze.
He turned slowly…
and heard it.
A distorted scream from every direction at once, like a million whispers layered together.
His knees buckled.
He hit the ground, gasping, clutching his ears, hair covering his eyes.
The others stared, confused—until they saw him.
A silhouette at the far end of the tunnel.
Still. Calm.
Face hidden.
Eyes glowing faint blue in the dark.
Someone tried to run.
"Wait."
His voice echoed unnaturally, like reality hesitated around the sound.
Their bodies stopped before their minds did.
Unease spread.
The hooded figure took a step forward.
"I need information."
Silence. Dripping water echoed like a clock counting down.
One informant mustered courage. "Name. Task. Price."
The hooded boy's tone didn't change.
"Find out what happened to Lian Ye."
Every Informant suddenly stiffened. Eyes exchanged.
They knew that name.
A folder—thick, Manila, heavy with secrets—was pulled from a bag.
Just as he reached for it, the holder snapped it back.
"Payment first," he demanded.
"Information isn't free."
The hooded boy blinked.
Payment?
He thought they lived as a collective, a hive of intellect not currency.
"I have no money."
"But I can complete two tasks for each of you."
The one on the ground staggered up, still trembling from the earlier auditory shock.
"Then your first task…" he said, voice weak.
"Kill a Misfit faction member. Name — Gray."
The folder was loosened.
Five pages removed.
A taste, not the meal.
"Gray possesses vision erasure and illusion displacement."
The hooded figure took the pages.
"Consider it done."
His blue eyes dimmed.
He stepped back into the shadow—
and disappeared into the night.
---
In an apartment on East Block
The figure didn't rush.
Azure City breathed quietly — neon twitching like a tired heartbeat.
A single apartment glowed faintly; TV light flickering behind curtains.
He looked up.
One step — then he vanished upward, landing on the balcony without sound.
Door unlocked.
He walked in.
Room empty. Too empty.
Silence thick like dust.
Someone was here.
His head dipped — instinct.
A knife sliced through the space where his skull used to be.
He rolled forward, eyes locking on a man in his thirties.
Black hair. No ability mark.
Strange.
Powers show through hair… unless—
Illusion.
The figure's voice dropped cold
"Are you Gray?"
The man flinched — then bolted.
Straight through the balcony rail and off the building.
The figure stepped forward leisurely.
---
Gray tore through alley shadows like a rat in panic.
Right turn — sharp.
He thought he lost him.
Then—
A pulse pounded in his skull.
Vision blurred.
Blood trickled from his nose, disorienting him.
He looked down — a small bullet hole embedded in his back.
Not noticed.
But effective.
He staggered, turning—
Three hovering guns aimed at him like executioners.
He tried forming illusions; the air distorted—
but his own ability backfired, shattering concentration, dropping him to his knees.
As he looked up—
The figure was already in front of him.
Eyes like fractured blue glass — beautiful and wrong.
Hair white, but strands tinted ashen-blue like memory fragments.
Gray's voice trembled "G-God… Order—?"
The world broke.
---
Mindspace
The alley dissolved into a chaotic copy of reality — colors wrong, buildings bent, sky cracked like old paint.
Multiple silhouettes of the figure surrounded him — all silent, staring.
Gray's thoughts scattered.
His sanity stretched thread-thin.
Chains coiled around his limbs — not metal, not real, yet unbreakable.
The real figure appeared above him, watching like a judge.
No anger. No mercy.
A single shot rang — quick, clean — and Gray's consciousness snapped out like a candle in wind.
---
Back in Reality
Gray's body hit the ground softly.
Eyes open but empty. His pupils like a black broken mirror that glisten in the moonlight.
The figure exhaled slowly — controlled.
A snap of his fingers.
A purple flame rippled across his fingertips.
The body burned into fine ash — quiet, swift, absolute.
He knelt.
A white lotus bracelet slid on his wrist, catching the faint alley light.
His hair washed back to pure white — mission done.
He whispered a prayer no one heard, placed a small cross atop the ashes…
and walked away disappearing into night.