[Lint Saito — POV]
Discomfort rouses you prior, to awareness emerging.
Before thought.
Before memory.
Before hope.
The initial sensation was freezing—metal pressing against my wrists, ankles and, along my spine. Chains. Heavy. Ancient. Corroded. They hoisted my body upright fixed to a column that reeked of wet soil and decay. My arms were extended wide pulled tight to make each breath hurt. Every intake of air scratched against my ribs internally.
I attempted to relocate.
The chains responded by ripping my flesh.
I moaned, the noise fading midway through my throat as my jaw shook uncontrollably. My mouth held a flavor. Blood was already crusted on my lips.
Then I caught the sound of applause.
Slow.
Measured.
Mocking.
Three crisp claps resonated through the built structure reverberating off bare concrete walls and incomplete columns like the sound of gunfire.
Vernon came into sight.
He was clean. Calm. Almost bored.
Shadows shifted in his wake.
Figures wearing black oni masks appeared from the shadows stepping out one, after another until six stood in a semicircle encircling me. Their masks depicted demon visages, mouths locked in endless screams. I knew them immediately.
I felt my stomach churn.
These were the same men.
The identical sensations I experienced within the 'Kindaiechi' building.
Identical eyes observing from angles I could never fully perceive.
I bit down with force that my jaw ached intensely.
"So " I croaked, my voice shredded, "it was you… Vernon. You were Kinard the time."
He grinned—not broadly not harshly. Merely faint. Displeased.
"Yeah… yeah… yeah " he answered drowsily. "Faster than I thought. Proud of you."
He walked slowly before me his boots scraping the concrete every step intentional.
"You've encountered my associates previously. Their purpose was to assist you Lint. Assist you in capturing Akira. This game—" he tapped his temple "—is conquered through intellect."
He halted before me.
"We are battling a Demon. Align with us…. Endure pain."
I clenched my jaw harder until a sharp ache spread behind my eyes.
"What if " I murmured with teeth clenched, "I refuse?"
He did not respond away.
Rather he raised his boot. Set it upon my thigh.
Afterward he pushed.
Slowly.
The force pressed into flesh already stained black and purple from bruises. Something, within me snapped. I cried out involuntarily the noise reverberating in vain.
Vernon bent over.
"Sorry " he murmured gently ". Honestly your life doesn't matter to me."
Out of nowhere one of the men wearing an oni mask sprinted toward him.
"Sir " the man spoke quickly "the news. Immediately."
Vernon exhaled deeply annoyed then retrieved his phone from his coat and angled the screen in my direction.
The transmission started.
"Breaking News—Yashi Takawa and Mashi Takawa Yakuza siblings discovered dead in their residence this evening. Officials verify their participation, in narcotics distribution, weapons trafficking and numerous civilian homicides."
The pictures flickered—tatami mats drenched in blood, broken furniture, bodies contorted in ways.
My spirits dropped.
Vernon observed my expression intently.
"You understand?" he stated. "The game is already underway.
To the rest of the world you're as good, as dead. Lets work together and stop Akira."
He moved in nearer.
"Work with me, Lint. Under my plan."
I held his stare even though dread gripped my chest.
"What are you looking for?" I inquired.
His grin became more defined.
"Order Lucarious " he declared, "to grant me his strength."
I chuckled.
It emerged fractured. Empty inside.
I glanced towards the ceiling then returned my gaze to his eyes.
"And what if I refuse?"
His face grew stern.
"Then…"
The men wearing oni masks shifted.
They started setting up something on the ground. A ring. Dust—dark, fine, with an odor. Candles positioned apart. Every man cut his palm without pause. Allowed blood to fall onto the markings.
The atmosphere shifted.
Thickened.
I sensed it cling to my skin, like damp fabric.
"What are you up, to?" I asked firmly.
Vernon grinned.
"Just turning no into yes."
He put his hand inside his jacket.
Wire cutters.
Chilly steel brushed against my finger.
"No—wait—"
The tension broke.
My fingernail ripped off.
The agony erupted.
It wasn't piercing—it was complete. It engulfed my arm, my chest, my head. I yelled so loudly my throat split. Blood streamed down my hand falling onto the ground in dark beads.
"LUCARIOUS!" I shouted.
Lucarious showed up immediately—hurrying in my direction—
—and slammed into an invisible wall.
He bellowed in rage pounding the barrier repeatedly with light shattering around him.
Vernon chuckled.
"No angel goes through this " he stated. "The time has come, Lint. Command him."
I wiped my head tears mingling with blood.
"Never " I retorted. "I refuse to give up the innocent to satisfy your wishes."
Vernon exhaled deeply.
"What drama."
He was handed a staff.
He threw it against my chest.
I experienced my ribs cracking.
Air escaped my lungs forcefully. Then he hit my thigh—bone howled muscle ripped. Pain consumed my body, slick, with blood my cries reverberating throughout the building.
Worst of all—
His face.
So similar to Akira's.
That recognition wounded deeper, than the strikes.
He seized my finger and positioned it within the cutters.
"Say it " he shouted in my face.
"I decline " I murmured.
The blade shut.
The suffering wiped out all else.
I pleaded for demise.
Then heat.
Wax.
Molten candle wax dripped into my eyes.
I could feel my pupils melt underneath. I was screaming with intense pain that I wish no human could ever face.
My sight faded completely.
I shouted until I lost my voice. My cough bleeds , my eyes bleed, my fingers bleed, my body bleeds . I was all lubricated with my own blood.
Lucarious grabbed a piece of paper with hands despite the chaos unraveling around us. Methodically with intention he penned the words as though engraving them into destiny: Stop it. I'll give you my powers. He creased the paper once. Tossed it through the air, toward Vernon. It drifted like a bird before settling at his feet.
Vernon perused it. For a moment the chamber became eerily quiet. Then his grip. The candle fell from his grasp. It hit the ground scattering fire and wax over the stone the flame flickering as if alarmed by what had been presented. Vernon raised his head to the space and yelled, his tone keen, with desire and doubt "Then grant me your powers and I'll release him. Don't attempt to deceive me because I am unable to see you."
Agony weighed heavily on my chest. My throat stung while I struggled to whisper the words, louder, than a sigh. "Lucarious… please. Don't."
He gave me no reply.. A look, nor a quietness that resembled compassion.
Another sheet sliced through the air and hit Vernon's shoulder. This one contained rules, not vows—regulations designed to bind souls. Vernon devoured them eagerly.
The initial regulation stated that anyone employing an angel's power without visibly perceiving him would have their leftover lifespan reduced by fifty percent.
The second was more ruthless: someone unable to perceive the fallen angel would never fully command those abilities—just pieces echoes of what might have been.
Vernon chuckled, the noise rebellious, reverberating off the walls. "I concur " he yelled. "I'll agree no matter the price. I'll show everyone that the curse of the twins is false."
Lucarious advanced. He rested both palms on Vernon's head. The atmosphere appeared to wail. Energy surged from Lucarious like blazing radiance, relentless. Vernon shrieked as though his skeleton was engulfed in flames internally his body thrashing beneath a power, beyond endurance. The odor of burning permeated the space—not of flesh. Something more profound a spiritual essence being ripped asunder.
Suddenly Lucarious withdrew his hands.
Vernon dropped to his knees panting, his energy broken and renewed simultaneously. Lucarious wrote again. Threw the last note toward him. It said: You may use a portion of my power. You cannot perceive me.
Vernon grinned while his face remained against the floor. It was a grin brimming with triumph—. With despair.
My sight grew hazy. The shackles seemed to weigh more the gloom enclosing me as if water flooding my lungs. As awareness faded the final sound I caught was the voice of a news anchor seeping through the surroundings.
"Breaking update—another event has taken place mirroring the murder style. The recovered body is that of a leader in a child trafficking ring. Hold on—another report. Two additional killings confirmed. The deceased were a smuggler. Numerous women and children have been saved. Following the bar episode criminals are perishing one after another. Is it Akira…. A divine curse, from God Himself?"
The sound diminished, the phrases drawn out melting away into quiet.
And then everything went black.