Inside the dimly lit inn room, which smelled faintly of mold and spilled beer, the morning silence was broken by a single, rhythmic, and relentless sound.
Thud.
"Six thousand seven hundred and forty-two…"
Thud.
"Six thousand seven hundred and forty-three…"
Stormclaw was doing push-ups. His body, now clean and well-groomed, was clad only in gray athletic shorts, exposing every fiber of muscle on his back and arms as they glistened with a thin sheen of sweat under the faint glow of the magitech lamp. He was the embodiment of discipline, a perfectly tuned biological machine.
Not far from him, lying in a decidedly ungraceful pose upon a tattered velvet sofa, Lily Kageyama yawned wide, flashing her pointed canines. She was lazily sharpening the edge of her katana with a small whetstone.
"Ne, Kitty-san," she said, her voice raspy with boredom. "What are you doing? You've been counting those ridiculous numbers since the (non-existent) sun was supposed to rise. It's noisy."
"Warming up," Stormclaw replied, his deep, firm voice not wavering in the slightest as he continued to push his body up and down.
"Call that a warm-up?" Kageyama grumbled. "You look more like a broken machine." She set her whetstone down. "Besides, where did Master go? I'm ready to find some vampire nobles and chop them to pieces. This is so boring!"
"Master said he had business at the Ebon Guard headquarters," Stormclaw said, still in perfect rhythm. "He told us to wait here. And not to destroy anything."
"Hmph." Kageyama sheathed her katana with a satisfying click. "What a buzzkill."
Meanwhile, on the bustling streets of Saint Veren's Gate, Imortal finally stepped out of the towering, gloomy Ebon Guard building. He paused on the rain-slicked marble steps, adjusting his golden Pharaonic hood.
"Haa… what a hassle."
His entire morning had been spent listening to an endless lecture from a grumpy Gargoyle Captain regarding "unauthorized use of public sewers," "destruction of city property," and "illegal brawling with fellow high-energy 'assets.'" The cherry on top: a fine. An incredibly expensive, clearly exaggerated fine that made his newfound wealth feel instantly diminished.
Bureaucratic corruption, Imortal thought, his voice—now a dual echo, a harmony between his flat tone and the ancient melody of Nephryss—resonating only within the silence of his mask. Even in a world full of monsters, this is unavoidable.
He walked down the wet cobblestone streets, passing crowds of strange creatures. He needed something to improve his mood. His eyes caught sight of a small stall across the street, where a four-armed octopus humanoid merchant was deftly grilling something fragrant over hot coals. Grilled squid.
He bought one, a giant skewer slathered in spicy black sauce, and began eating it as he walked, lifting his golden mask slightly. The meat was chewy and delicious.
As he took a shortcut through a narrow, dark, and foul-smelling alley to get back to the inn, a familiar raspy voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Ah, Mr. Imortal! We meet again. What a delightful coincidence!"
Imortal froze, the remains of the squid in his hand forgotten. He let out a long sigh, an exhalation heavy with suffering.
He turned around. Standing in the shadows at the mouth of the alley, looking utterly out of place in his pristine white lab coat and an overly wide smile, was Dr. Reven.
"Oh," Imortal said flatly. "You. The Mad Doctor from the train."
"Ohoho, you remember me! I'm flattered!" Reven giggled and walked closer, his mismatched eyes (one feline yellow, one human brown) shimmering with unholy excitement. He stepped forward and, before Imortal could react, he hugged him.
It was an awkward yet tight embrace. Imortal could feel Reven's synthetic, stitched-together body pressing against his golden armor.
"Warm regards from Xylia," Reven whispered, his voice husky right beside Imortal's helm. "She said you left an 'unforgettable impression' in the bathroom. She misses you dearly."
Imortal just stood stiffly, not returning the hug in the slightest. "Okay. Message received. Now, can you let go?"
Reven released him but didn't step away. He giggled again, his long, slender hands now beginning to creep boldly over Imortal's armored chest, his fingers tracing the intricate golden hieroglyphs. "Come now, don't be so cold, Mr. Imortal," he cooed, his voice dropping to a low purr. "You know, I am still very, very curious about what lies beneath these stubborn bandages…"
His mismatched eyes stared straight at the faintly pulsing purple crystal in Imortal's chest. Imortal felt a strong wave of discomfort. He didn't like being touched, especially by someone who likely carried a scalpel in every pocket. Instinctively, he looked away for a moment, glancing toward the alley's exit, calculating the quickest escape route.
"Could you just…" he said, looking around, letting his guard down for a fraction of a second.
And that was when Reven struck.
Imortal looked down. And his heart, now made of ancient magic, seemed to stop beating.
Reven's hand was buried in his chest.
Not on top of his armor. Inside. His right hand had phased through the golden breastplate and the winding funeral bandages as if they weren't there. And in his hand, Imortal could see a device. A small, intricate mechanical claw made of gleaming silver, its needle-like fingers now gripping something inside him.
Something pulsing. The purple crystal of Nephryss.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
The scream that tore from behind Imortal's mask was not human. It was a roar of pure agony echoing off the alley walls. It was a violation, an invasion at the level of the soul.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Reven laughed uproariously, his stitched face now distorted by manic joy. "Taking what is mine, of course! A little gift for my research!"
He began to pull his hand back.
The pain was a supernova. Imortal felt his very soul being forcibly ripped from his body. With a pure reflex born of unbearable pain, he thrashed. He kicked. His heavy armored boot slammed into Reven's stomach with full force.
BOOM!
Reven was launched backward, flying across the alley like a ragdoll, and crashed into a pile of metal trash cans and wet garbage bags with a deafening CRASH!
Imortal collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest, gasping for air. He had done it. He had stopped him.
But then, he looked up. Reven was sitting in the middle of the trash heap, his lab coat now filthy, but he was still laughing. And in his raised hand, still clamped within the blood-stained mechanical claw, pulsing with a frantic purple light, was the Nephryss crystal.
He had succeeded.
"No…" Imortal whispered.
And then, his body betrayed him. The power sustaining him vanished. The majestic golden armor, the cloak of shadows, and the funeral bandages dissolved instantly, evaporating into a cloud of black-gold sand that swirled for a moment before vanishing into the dirty alley air.
What remained, lying on the wet cobblestones, was Devon. Stark naked, pale, and trembling violently in a puddle of dirty water. He convulsed, thin smoke rising from his skin as if he had just been vomited back into reality by force. Saliva dripped from the corner of his blue-tinged lips.
Reven rose from the trash pile, brushing a banana peel off his shoulder. He laughed loud and hard, a piercing, triumphant sound. "HAHAHAHAHAHA! Magnificent! The power of the Grave Echo… the soul of an ancient Egyptian god… is now mine!"
He walked over to Devon, looming over the naked, pathetic figure now curled in a fetal position on the cold stone.
"Hmm?" Reven said, his grin fading slightly, replaced by an expression of amused confusion. He poked Devon's cheek with the tip of his pointed shoe. "So… this is your true form?"
He giggled, covering his mouth with his free hand. "Huhuhu… oh my, how pitiful. Just a pale, naked little baby. You don't even have muscles. Just skin and bones. How disappointing."
He carefully tucked the purple crystal into the deep pocket of his lab coat. Then, he crouched beside Devon. He grabbed Devon's black hair, wet with sweat and filth, and yanked his head up roughly, forcing Devon to look at his stitched face.
"Huuu… look at you," he mocked, his voice now a cruel whisper. "The magnificent 'Imortal.' The terrifying Golden Pharaoh. Turns out you're just a pathetic little boy who's freezing cold."
Devon tried to speak. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a weak, trembling groan. His throat felt like it was on fire. His body refused to obey him.
"Ohhh, don't look at me with that gaze, Sir," Reven chuckled. He leaned forward, his mismatched eyes gleaming with pure madness. "Hehehe… you know, you're much cuter when you're helpless like this."
And then, before Devon could process the next horror, Reven kissed him. His cold, slightly cracked lips pressed against Devon's trembling ones. His forked tongue—a modification he had clearly done to himself—invaded Devon's mouth, rummaging around with an invasive, clinical curiosity. It felt like being kissed by a curious snake.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, Reven pulled away, leaving a trail of cold saliva on Devon's lips.
"Yes," he said, as if he had just completed a small experiment. "Consider that… a parting gift. For being such a cooperative test subject."
He released Devon's head, letting it hit the dirty cobblestones with a dull thud.
Reven stood up, straightening his lab coat. He laughed uproariously once more, his manic laughter echoing through the narrow alley as he walked away, disappearing into the bustle of the main street, leaving Devon lying alone, naked, and helpless amidst the trash and darkness.