Chapter 4
The whisper followed Azrael down the stairs.
"…help…"
The voice was weak.
Broken.
Almost swallowed by the night.
Azrael pushed open the door of his apartment building and stepped into the cold street.
Rainwater still dripped from the fire escapes above. The city lights reflected across the wet pavement, turning the empty road into a river of yellow and red.
The whisper came again.
"…please…"
Azrael spotted him immediately.
A young man stood beneath the streetlamp across the road.
His body flickered faintly like a dying light.
Azrael sighed.
"So that's a lost soul."
"Yes," the voice inside the scythe said quietly.
Azrael walked across the street.
Cars passed through the intersection nearby, but none slowed.
None noticed the glowing figure standing in the middle of the sidewalk.
The man looked around nervously.
"Hello?"
His voice echoed strangely.
Like it didn't fully belong in the world anymore.
Azrael stopped a few steps away.
"You're not going to like this."
The man turned.
Relief flooded his face.
"Oh thank god."
"Finally someone sees me."
Azrael folded his arms.
"You woke up somewhere strange."
"You can't touch anything."
"And people keep walking through you."
The man blinked.
"…Yes."
"How did you know?"
Azrael nodded toward the road.
"Because you're dead."
The man laughed weakly.
"Okay."
"That's not funny."
Azrael didn't smile.
Across the street, flashing red and blue lights suddenly cut through the darkness.
The man slowly turned.
Police cars surrounded a wrecked vehicle crushed against a concrete barrier.
Paramedics were pulling someone from the driver's seat.
The man stepped closer to the road.
His voice trembled.
"…That's my car."
Azrael said nothing.
The man's breathing grew uneven.
"…No."
He stared at the body being lifted onto the stretcher.
"…That's me."
Silence settled between them.
The man dropped to his knees.
"I had plans tomorrow."
His voice broke.
"I was supposed to meet my sister."
Azrael shifted the scythe slightly.
The weapon pulsed.
"What happens now?" the man asked.
Azrael hesitated.
He still wasn't used to this part.
"You move on."
The man looked up.
"…How?"
Azrael raised the scythe slowly.
"Like this."
The blade glowed.
Soft blue light spread across the street.
For a moment, the world seemed to quiet.
Even the sirens faded.
The man looked at the glowing blade.
"…Will it hurt?"
Azrael shook his head.
"I don't think so."
The man closed his eyes.
"Okay."
Azrael moved the scythe.
The blade passed through the air without touching the man's body.
But blue light wrapped around him.
The man's form began breaking apart into glowing fragments.
Tiny lights drifted upward like fireflies.
Then they vanished into the night.
The street grew quiet again.
Azrael lowered the scythe.
"…Well."
"That wasn't terrible."
"The soul has passed beyond the veil," the scythe whispered.
Azrael nodded slowly.
"Good."
But something felt wrong.
The air suddenly grew colder.
Azrael turned toward the alley beside his apartment building.
A low growl echoed from the darkness.
He frowned.
"Tell me that's not another soul."
"No," the scythe answered.
"This one has rotted."
Azrael tightened his grip.
"Rotted?"
The shadows moved.
A figure crawled from the alley.
Its body twisted unnaturally as it stepped into the streetlight.
Azrael's stomach dropped.
The creature had once been human.
But its skin was cracked like burned stone.
Its limbs bent in the wrong directions.
And its eyes burned with a sick green glow.
The monster's mouth opened.
A scream tore through the night.
Azrael grimaced.
"…Yeah."
"That's definitely not a ghost."
"A Soul Beast," the scythe whispered.
Azrael rolled his shoulders.
"Of course it is."
The creature charged.
Fast.
Too fast.
Azrael barely swung the weapon in time.
The scythe flashed through the air.
Blue light exploded from the blade.
The creature slammed into the pavement.
Concrete cracked beneath its body.
Azrael took a step back.
"…Please stay down."
The creature rose.
Bones snapped back into place.
Its twisted body grew larger.
More unstable.
Azrael exhaled slowly.
"Okay."
"That's bad."
The creature lunged again.
Azrael stepped forward.
The scythe pulsed violently.
The blade dissolved into blue fragments—
Then reformed into a long spear.
Azrael blinked.
"…Nice."
The creature leapt.
Azrael thrust the spear forward.
The weapon pierced straight through the monster's chest.
Blue energy erupted from the wound.
The creature shrieked as cracks spread across its body.
Azrael twisted the weapon.
The monster shattered.
Its body exploded into drifting ash.
Silence returned.
Azrael stood there breathing slowly.
The spear dissolved again.
The scythe returned.
Azrael stared at it.
"You can change shape?"
"Yes."
"Into whatever weapon is needed to reap corruption."
Azrael smirked.
"Good to know."
But the scythe suddenly went quiet.
Azrael frowned.
"What?"
The voice spoke again.
Soft.
Serious.
"Something stronger is coming."
Azrael looked down the street.
The wind had stopped.
The night felt heavy again.
"What kind of stronger?"
The scythe hesitated.
Then answered.
"One of Axar's hunters."
Azrael sighed.
"Already?"
The streetlights flickered.
One by one.
Down the road.
Darkness spread slowly toward him.
Then—
A massive shadow moved at the end of the street.
Something stepped into the faint glow.
Azrael's grip tightened around the scythe.
"…Yeah."
"That doesn't look friendly."
The creature lifted its head.
Its glowing eyes locked onto him.
And the hunt began.