VOL. 2: Under an azure moon:
Arc 6: Under an azure moon:
A dark night, lit only by the moon.
A large, thick, cloud had begun to drift in front of the lunar body; a chill in the air, and a strong breeze. The wind blew away the last of autumn's leaves, leaving the trees bare, ready for the snow to fall.
Winter was near. A time for reflection, and a time to prepare for the new year. Yet for some it was an opportunity to take advantage of the darkness, and the cold. For some people never learn; the darkness now belongs to someone, something else.
11:33 PM: Ward 4. Under the watch of the Silvermane.
On the abandoned dry docks that sat near the outskirts of Tokyo. Certain foreign guilds began to make a play for the now-vacated territories of the Crimson Bandits. In the darkness, they thought it would be an easy undertaking, a swift exchange of power.
How wrong they were. The dark had a new master.
"Холодно, как в России." (It's as cold as Russia.)
"Я хочу уйти." (I want to go home.)
Two men stood on patrol; armed with assault rifles. They looked like they would be more at home in the military, but here they were, nothing more than hired muscle. Freezing wind pushing the ocean spray into their faces.
"Я устал от этого." (I'm tired of this.)
"Почему я должен быть на дежурстве?" (Why am I on watch?) One of the men complained as he tried to warm his hands with his breath. As they spoke, a third joined their conversation.
"Заткнитесь оба." (Shut up both of you.)
"Мы должны работать." (We have a job to do.)
A woman in her early twenties, her long, braided, blonde hair tucked under her blue coat; a white puffball atop her fur hood.
"Они здесь. Убедитесь, что нас не беспокоят." (They are here. Make sure we are not disturbed.) She said firmly. The men nodded. Their objective was to ensure that their guilds foothold into Japan goes without incident.
"Да, Елена." (Yes, Elena.)
"Мы не подпустим никого. Клянусь." (We won't let anyone near. We promise.) They assured. Leaving her to the business within the warehouse.
Inside:
A ragging fire burnt in the centre of the room. On the far side, several shipping crates stacked on top of one another; a pile of goods to smuggle and sell for a price. Most were illegal, and all were highly valuable. The other; home. Imports from Russia and around the world made into a fashion of a home.
Around 20 men and women, dressed in black jackets. An insignia of a knight's helm on their backs. The Black knights of Siberia. A low-ranking Russian guild that had recently begun to make waves. Looking to take advantage of the power vacuum left by the crimson bandits, they hoped to establish a stronger foothold in the city.
"Сэр, они прибыли. Мы готовы." (Sir, they've arrived. We are ready.) A man reported.
His boss, Leonid Ivanov, a man nearing the age of 60. Standing at 6ft, he had a sharp blue gaze that could cut through any lie. Cane equipped with a sword hidden within. Short, grey, slicked back hair, and a clean, well-kept stubble. A fedora to accompany a well-tailored grey suit. Great for Russian cold nights and days.
"Отлично, пришлите их сюда." (Excellent, bring them here.) He spoke. Puckering on a Cuban with slow, calming breaths. He was the image of a high-ranking boss; composed, and not at all worried for his own safety.
*Bow* *Bow* *Bow*
Three Japanese men; all dressed in similar attire to that of Imperial Japan. Gaunt faces, with dark eyes that have seen more than most. They hadn't slept in days. Leonid didn't show any pity, nor would he offer any. To him, they were a business opportunity.
"Good evening gentlemen. Forgive my language skills; it is a learnt language." Offering a chair to the worn men, as he spoke in accented Japanese. They reluctantly took the chairs by the fire.
"So, you would like to join our guild?" He quizzed, puffing on his cigar.
"...Yes." The middle one spoke for the triplicity. A sour taste in his mouth for having to deal with the Russians. A great sin to his ancestors for him to stoop this low to foreigners, but desperation makes fools of us all.
"Well. Business concluded. Hahahahaha." The entire dry dock erupted in kind to Leonid's laugh, a good-natured laugh and a warm welcome.
"Jokes aside gentlemen; what do you offer us? We will provide a roof, security, and even some payment. However, I am sure you can provide some... services in return?" A wry smile to his lips. He knew the value these men offered could not be found elsewhere.
"Information, connections, contacts; we can provide you with the ins and outs of Tokyo... Our blades are... yours."
Like that the sons of the rising sun bent their knees, bowing low in respect of their new bosses. A satisfied grin on Leonid's face.
However, this was too easy. In no world would a guild of ultra nationalist Japanese men bow to foreigners so easily. Something was wrong, and his gut wouldn't let him accept what he already knew.
"Стражи, доложите." (Report in guards) Elena spoke through a wrist mounted communicator.
"Стражи, доложить." (Guards report)
*Static*
Elena's expression turned from neutral to worry. As a few moments of silence passed, nothing but the white noise of static. Her men were not reporting.
"Иди и найди их." (Go find them) She ordered her men.
"Да." (Yes) Two of the Black knights nodded, leaving the warmth of the building.
"Сэр, может, нам следует уйти?" (Sir, perhaps we should leave?) Elena's concern made her question the decision to come here. 'Something is wrong. We need to get out of here.'
"Тише, Елена, мы будем в порядке." (Hush Elena, we'll be fine) Leonid dismissed her concerns with the wave of a hand. Although, in truth, he too sensed that something was amiss. The air grew heavy, a tension that had settled in like a thick fog. Yet no matter what, he refused to show any sign of weakness.
Back to the imperials before him; their withered features caught his eye.
"Why so weary my friends?" He quizzed once more.
"We have lost... much. Our numbers are spread thin through the ward. We would like to start again once more." A reasonable answer to the guild master.
"I see... Why don't you tell me the real reason. Hmmm?" Leonid said sharply, his eyes narrowed as he stared them down. A business man like himself had the ability to see through such shallow lies.
The men gave each other a sideways glance, before looking back to Leonid. "The Reaper..."
"Жнец?" (Reaper?) Leonid asked, his curiosity piqued. "And why would this 'Reaper' trouble you so?" His tone was inquisitive, yet cautious. He had not heard of the Reaper before, but if he had managed to reduce the 3 men to the state they were in now, he knew that it was no laughing matter.
"Вы нашли их?" (You found them?) Elena radioed her men.
*Static* again the same white noise. Her concern now turned to fear; her sense of danger was reaching its apex.
"Нам нужно идти. Что-то не так." (We need to go. Something is wrong) She urged her master.
Leonid raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.
"And what would that be, my dear?" His voice laced with sarcasm and a touch of condescension. His arrogance was his downfall.
*Fwip* *Fwip* *Fwip*
Sounds of arrows cutting through the air. The imperials were struck; two in the shoulders, one in his leg. Barley any time to scream before their heads were hit. Killing each quickly.
"Стрельба! Стрельба!" (We are under fire! We are under fire!) Elena cried, as the Black knights pulled out their firearms; pistols, shotguns, rifles, it was an array of weapons. They took cover behind the wooden crates, taking up defensive positions.
"Где они?" (Where are they) Leonid barked, his eyes scanning the shadows for the assailants.
*Fwip* *Fwip* *Fwip*
Lights out. The central fire was knocked over, arrows hitting the sides and the oil spilt. The last bastion of light, extinguished with ease.
Azure eyes all around the dark docks. "Огонь! Убей их." (Fire! Kill them) Leonid ordered, his voice booming across the area.
His men opened fire; the sound of bullets ripping through the air, but there was no target to be seen. Muzzle lights illuminated shadow knights only for a moment. Before they were cut down by unseen blades.
"Беги, мастер. Я буду-buy." (Run master. I will-) Elena tried to usher Leonid towards safety, only for a bone-like blade to protrude from her abdomen. Eyes wide in shock. The tendril slithering away back into the lightless void.
"Блин, иди к лодкам - АРГГГГГХХХХ" (Damn it, get to the boats - ARRRRGHHH) An arrow struck his right thigh. He winced in pain, dropping his cane he hobbled away.
Gunshots ceasing leaving only his staggered steps. "Нет, пожалуйста, нет ..." (No, please, no...) His eyes darted around, hoping to spot azure eyes. Avoiding them at all costs.
*Whack*
With a thud, his legs were kicked out from under him, his knee's hit the cold, hard concrete with a painful thud; the pain of his injury catching up to him.
"Wait... We can talk, I have-" His words caught up in the horror above him.
A giant of a man towering above him. Eyes that glowed with an azure light. Long dark hair, and an imposing figure, shrouded by a moonless night. His face though; familiar to the fallen Russian man.
"D-Danya?" The shadow didn't react to the name, nor the sight of the wounded man. A blank stare. Hands outstretched; he engulfed Leonid's head, crushing the skull like a pimple. A soft squish, then a thud.
An empty warehouse filled with blood and bullet holes. All the Russian's lay dead. 20 lives taken in mere moments.
"Is it done?" A cold low voice came behind the Reapers mask.
*Nod*
Knights; though unable to speak they were able to communicate through body language.
"Open them." With a wave of the Reaper's hand. The Knights moved quickly, tearing open the boxes like wrapping paper on Christmas day.
Inside was a plethora of illicit goods, banned substances and imported materials. Drugs, guns, and gate treasures. A haul that would fetch a king's ransom. However, none of these caught the Reaper's eyes.
Coffins; black lacquered wood. Inside was one of the any reasons for being a Reaper every night. People with tied hands and bagged heads.
"Mmmmphh" They tried to scream.
The Reaper raised his hand. His Knights took the lead, slicing the ropes that bound them. One knight was kind enough to remove their bags. Eyes wide, they were still trying to come to terms with the knights before them. Men and women, young and old. All mindful of the monster before them.
"Guren." Pointing to the doused flame that had now been reduced to smouldering ashes, he ordered the giant. With in a moment the flames were roaring again, illuminating the darkness.
A swarm of knights stood around the edges of the room, like statues they waited. The shadowy monsters sent shivers down the spines of the onlookers.
"Wait here for sunrise. Someone will be along shortly." The Reaper's voice was deep, and distorted. The liberated captives nodded, unsure if their saviours' words were a comfort, or a warning.
"T-Thank...y-you..." A woman tried to speak, but the tremors in her voice made it difficult. The Reaper ignored her. Back into the lightless abyss the Reaper and his knights vanished.
***
True to his word. Three hours later as the first light of the day began to rise; the warehouse was discovered by two men in suits. An insignia of an azure lion on their shoulders.
"Good morning. You are now under the care of the Silvermane. Come with us and you will be taken to safety."