[New York City—2435 miles away from Coral Bay, California]
Towering glass skyscrapers cast deep shadows over the civilians passing by on the streets below. Rain showers the streets, pooling away all the gunk and garbage forgotten by everyone. A Warden spy swiftly moves down the streets, going through alleyways and hidden entrances.
A kaleidoscope of red and neon green floods the streets, painting an oil painting on the puddles themselves. Graffiti images and messages stain the walls around: Romano stole my home. Evicted, ignored, erased. The king sees all but can't see your hate.
One of the people sitting on the floor lifts his head, noticing the strange behavior of the spy.
The spy presses on his earpiece.
"You have to get to the Obsidian Market," Quincy Harlow directs, shaking his injured leg. "Our sources say the missing meteorite has been getting news of being sold by a mysterious seller."
"On it," the spy nods.
Suddenly, a group of trench-coated men walks forward from a corner and ambushes the spy. The man tries to fight back but is easily overwhelmed by the numbers.
"What's going on?" Quincy questions, seeing shaky camera footage on the screen above.
"What is the meaning of this?" the man questions, trying to free himself from the trenchcoat men grabbing him.
One of the men grabs the hidden earpiece and camera from underneath the Warden spy's dress shirt, stomping it to nothing but sparks and wires. Another man adjusts his cufflink before smacking the spy right in the face.
Back at Warden society, the transmission is cut unsuspectedly. Many of the surveillance corp officers start clicking on their keyboards, trying to reconnect with the signal.
Rain drenches the New York streets, sticking the men's clothes to their skin. The men in trench coats pull the spy down onto the floor, slamming their clean dress shoes over his body and face, wiping the dirt off their bottoms.
A disheveled, skinny man walks forward with a tattered suit, hand firm on his umbrella. "Bring him to the Kingpin."
He motions his head towards the black Cadillac as the men in trench coats drag the spy into the trunk. Putting the spy in handcuffs and taping his mouth, they threw the spy in like he was just luggage.
Many regular families watching the scene are carefully escorted out of the way by the disheveled man. In contrast, others keep a low eye, pretending not to notice a thing.
He squirms as he tries to free himself from his bindings. A shovel and extra rope are thrown into the back of the trunk, making the spy squirm even more.
The disheveled man stares downward at the spy as the trench coat men close the trunk with an unceremonious click.
Quincy Harlow slams his fists onto his desk as the Arbiter watches from a distance.
"Mr. Harlow, there was an event in Coral Bay about a sudden Elusive," one officer rushes in, holding up the reports.
"It's just an Elusive," the Arbiter comments, confused. "What should a singular cursed spirit be of importance?"
"It appears to be a special Elusive," the Warden clarifies, "The type that doesn't disappear when killed."
"What!" Quincy barks, slamming his cane. "Why wasn't I alerted to this sooner?"
The Arbiter leans in, listening intently.
"By the time it was discovered, Kiara Meitner had already dealt with it," the Wardens explained carefully. "However, her readings did disappear for roughly thirty minutes before returning to where she was."
Quincy Harlow casts a confused glance, staring at the readings of Elusive popping up all over California and nearby states.
A couple of hours later, all the major Wardens gather in a small hearing room as Kiara spills the tea on everything she learned.
"So like this Covenant, he can summon an army of Elusives like under a whim," she explains, arms waving around in the air like a paintbrush. "He used like his shadow to crash me back down onto the floor; oh, he can also summon a big portal that he escaped with—"
Many of the Wardens turn their hands, hearing the full implications of Kiara's words. Zhang's hand glides past the notebook, trying to write down every important detail. Edward presses his fingers over his chin, pondering the implications.
"He had this plague doctor and Roman soldier subordinate with him," Kiara continues, tapping on her head trying to remember. "This Roman soldier's name was like Caesar Trajan, and he's like a human and Elusive hybrid–don't ask me how. And he commenced a Requiem Duel–"
"A Requiem Duel?" Zhang lifts his head, mildly shocked. "That hasn't been around for centuries."
Many murmurs and questions left the Warden's lips, each building over the other.
"Who is this man?"
"Hybrids? With Elusives?"
"Is any of this possible?"
"What do you remember of this strange man?" Zhang questions, checking the most wanted Rogue Warden list:
Conroy Callaghan–status: Unknown.
Isaiah Atlas– status: Unknown.
His finger traces down each section, passage, and page of the list.
"Well, he had black flowy hair and…" Kiara says before the words trail off. She places her finger on her temple, trying to remember, yet everything seems to blur together. "And he had…he had…"
Did he have blue eyes?
No, he had grey?
Or was it brown?
The shape of his eyes—a cracked smudge, almost as if different facial features were melded together to look like a face.
"Kiara?" Edward says, snapping her out.
"I just can't remember," Kiara says, bewildered. "I don't understand. I saw him right in front of me. I can't remember anything else, even his hair. I'm starting to forget."
All the other Wardens looked at each other cautiously—that didn't make sense.
"We can't grasp who this new threat is without knowing an identity," Zhang admits, clasping his hands together. "All we know so far is this Covenant has bent the supernatural at a scale unprecedented in the thousands of years the Warden society has existed."
"We don't know how he's doing this either," Anderson admits, cutting into the conversation. "Remember last month when a humanoid Elusive absorbed Mr. Monroe into its chest cavity. The Elusive carcass, you brought in…. same properties."
"So it's likely this man is the creator of these new Elusives," Zhang questions.
"Most likely," Anderson agrees.
Whispers left the Warden's mouth, not understanding the scope of what was happening.
Zhang turns his head, looking at the news playing in the background.
"Residents at the local park have reported a huge monster appearing at the premises, causing mayhem and destruction," the anchor describes, microphone up close.
"There is one thing that we know," Zhang says, arms crossed behind his back. "If this Covenant's goal was to reveal the supernatural to the real world, then he has won this battle for sure."
Back in the abandoned orphanage, Merrick sits with crossed legs, tapping teacups with a flowy white white-haired man.
No words.
Just acknowledgement.
Azrael and Trajan stand opposite sides of Merrick as his piercing golden eyes pierce through the air.
The four men watch the news blaring through the TV of the recent events that happened. Merrick stares disinterestedly as his shadow grows and envelops the room like a virus, momentarily shifting into the winged entity.
He smiles warmly, almost serene.
Returning to their house, Edward swings the car keys on his finger, as Kiara plops herself on the couch, pondering what happened earlier.
"What do you think we should do about this Covenant, Grandpa?" she asks curiously.
"I don't know," Edward admits, pacing back and forth. "I've never heard of anything like this before."
Grabbing the remote, he turns on the TV: Aldehard Romano donates millions of dollars to museums, theaters, and saves the arts programs. Children wave paintbrushes in front of the camera, painting a mural on the wall.
"It seems like we have to be more diligent from now on," Edward says, changing the channel to a late-night television show. Walking over to his study room, he closes the door with a loud click.
Kiara takes notice of the way he quickly glanced both ways before closing.
"Any leads on the Covenant?" Evander asks, walking out of the hallway.
"Nothing," Kiara says, resting her head.
"He said he was honored to meet me, so I guess he's been watching over me and you," she states, resting her feet on the coffee table. "That might explain how his subordinate knows of our bond."
Evander thinly presses his lips, remembering Kiara's words, something about a cloaked man she fought before accidentally releasing him. It wouldn't make sense that Trajan and the cloaked man were the same person, but something about that rubbed him the wrong way.
Could the Covenant be the cloaked man that Kiara fought?
That could explain how he would know about the soul bond, but he hasn't shown swordsmanship of any type.
Kiara notices something suspicious. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," Evander replies, "I was thinking of something."
Following up, Kiara narrows her eyes, already more skeptical. "You're acting like I'm too dumb to notice. Yet I know that you're not telling me something."
Evander stays quiet, thinking about his response.
"Look, you don't owe me anything," Kiara says, raising her hands sincerely. "But quit being cryptic. You've got to tell me because if you're not telling, either you don't trust me or I'll freak out. Both ways, I'm going to freak out after I find out later for myself."
Evander remembers Hirano's words: She'll die. You'll die with her, Evander.
He groans, already regretting his choices.
"Kiara," Evander says. "I am intrigued that the Covenant is interested in the Ascendants. Or why he is after them."
"Okay?" Kiara says, confused. "Is that all? Afraid he may be after you?"
"Not just me," Evander finishes, "There were other Ascendants that survived and weren't sealed during the Warden hunt thousands of years ago."
Kiara's mouth drops, trying to rationalize the news. She remembers her grandfather's words: 'Sealed away in separate talismans to prevent their return.'
There are really some left, after all? This could disrupt everything the Warden Society is facing right now.
"Uuhh, they're not going to kill me or something. Or know how to free us from the Soul-bond."
"None of them want to kill you…. maybe one," Evander explains, hands deep in his pocket. He shrugs, letting the words hang. "In the world right now, only five Ascendants, including myself, remain."
Kiara snarkily rises off the couch, pointing her finger out like a baton. "Well then, I got woo them with my charm."
"How is that supposed to work?"
Kiara raises her hands like a PowerPoint presentation. "Well, there are only five members. So basically an exclusive club of ancient immortals."
"It's more like a family," Evander corrects.
"That's kind of weird," Kiara says. A curious thought pops into her head. "So how does that work? Is it like literally or like ... you know."
"It's not a literal family. That's not how we were created in the world," Evander clarifies, pretending to cough into his fist. "We just sprouted out in the world. No purpose. No memories. Just here."
Kiara nods, clearly interested for more.
"However, I want you to promise me this, Kiara," Evander says, sincerely. "Don't tell the Warden Society about this revelation. They're what I have left from the past."
A flash of the mural of the Ascendants on the Warden temple's library lingers in the back of her mind. The oil pastel drawings of the Elusives rampaging across villages, engaging conflicts with the first Wardens.
A cold chill, almost as if hundreds of dead hands were pulling her back one by one.
"Alright, I won't tell them," Kiara agrees, eyes not meeting Evander's.
"Thanks," he says, lying on the couch. He closely wraps the blanket around himself.
He's old. Clearly older than any other person I know, Kiara rationalizes, glancing at Evander. I feel like I'm just starting to crack the surface. I need to dig deeper and become stronger.
The news cuts from the new information of what happened earlier to the segment about the meteorite heist–leads still unknown.
Tilting her head down, she thinks. If I'm going to do something, I have to crack their side of the story.
Meanwhile, deep beneath the orphanage's foundations, Merrick coldly stares at the hybrids in their stasis tube.
Synthesized bodies float in a teal colored water tank, hooked up with wires and a breathing tube.
His eyes dart to the vitals readings, checking their completion status.
Status: stable.
5% to completion.
A grey color illuminates the room, casting deep, moving shadows that stretch far in the corners. Merrick's silhouette slowly moves and wraps itself around its figure, watching over the tubes.
A dark shadow covers most of Merrick's face, showing only his golden, icy, cracked pupils. He taps on his computer, searching for a certain article he's seen on the news.
Clicking on the link, he sees an article about a missing meteorite that was stolen recently by masked operatives. A half-smile tugs on his lips.
Putting his phone up to his ear, Merrick dials an unknown number. The phone buzzes before someone on the other end picks it up.
"Hello, this is Romano Industries," the voice calmly says, clicking on his computer. "How may we help you?"
"Wild poppy," Merrick utters.
A few murmurs echo through the device, papers shuffle in the distance.
A mouse clicks.
"Would this be an assassination or a cleanup?" the man offers, typing on his computer.
"No, I'm not interested in that. I'd like to buy the meteorite," Merrick offers. "Full price."
The man on the other end of the receiver mutters something inaudible, still typing. He discusses the sudden news with his colleagues, but Merrick could hear each of their words.
"Meteorite?"
"Ain't that top secret?"
"If he pays full price, then should we tell the Kingpin about this?"
Merrick stares, absentmindedly.
"The Kingpin would like to discuss this transaction later with you," the man mutters, voice echoing off his earpiece. "In the meantime, how will we handle the time and location for you? How will it be transported, and who will be picking it up?"
The clicks of the keyboard echo and wrap around Merrick, looking over the details of the meteorite disappearance.
"Coral Bay, California," Merrick says, syllables rolling off the tongue.
"Who should this name be going under?"
"I'll have one of my associates meet up with you," Merrick explains, a sly smirk tugging his lips. "The name, however, can go under 'Covenant' "