𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐱

it was the day of the U-20 match. you were tasked with ticket duty, cursing the gods that you had to interact with people. you sighed, looking at the time.

why did you have to work on handling this when you could be cheering for your baby?

you even heard that today popcorn was going to be given for free to all members of the audience.

8:00 a.m. fixing the creases in your uniform, you sent a signal to chibi Anri to open the ticket gates. a swarm of people rushed in, each wanting to be the first in line.

it's gonna be a long day.

"good job, [Name]-sama. you did quite well." chibi Anri popped on the edge of your glasses.

you didn't answer and opened your glasses. not because you were tired, but because you had a bad feeling. during your ticket checking speedrun video, you were met with a tall man. and i mean mayo-hair tall.

the guy was wearing a mask. well, most people did. it was the flu season, after all.

his body language, the way he spoke, all were perfectly normal for a citizen, but your instincts told you that he wasn't normal.

you could have sworn that he said, "be careful." under his breath, but you weren't sure. the line at the time was noisy.

i must investigate more. better to be safe than sorry. you put your glasses back on, to order chibi Anri to do a sweep around the stadium when you noticed something wrong.

chibi Anri was no longer the Anri you knew. it had feral looking bunny ears and a smile that reached to to the tips of its ears.

with a distorted voice it spoke "did you miss me? i crawled back from the eighth circle of hell just for you, my sweet dear."

grabbing the glasses, you smashed it on the floor, beating it with your foot leaving nothing but glasses of shards left. shit. now, this was bad.

you did not want to remember. that place was beyond horrific. that organization was beyond any type of redemption. it could have been nothing. maybe a hacker who decided to mess with you. maybe it was one of Ego's pranks.

the phrase eighth was used to describe a mission of mass genocide. circle of hell meant death by fire. 

the word sweet based on its position in the alphabet (e.g., A=1, B=2, C=3, etc.), then the word "sweet" would have a numerical value of 19+23+5+5+20 = 72.

then, that means they're going to kill a crowd of people using fire at exactly 7:20 p.m.

as if on cue, the stadium behind you cheered, celebrating a goal.

they're going to burn the stadium, you realized.

they're going to burn the stadium with everyone in it.

♕

it wasn't possible. you had rounded the stadium 2 times already. you had checked every single locker, every single air vent, yet any sign of oil wasn't to be found.

maybe it was just a prank?

no, no, no. people's lives are at risk here, [Name]. people you care about.

halting to a stop, you decided to stand still and close your eyes. focusing every single drop of energy into your senses.

then, that was it. a slight change in the air. miniscule, but there, nevertheless.

you decided to follow the trail. being at a goddamn football stadium, following the scent was like trying to find a specific nucleus in a compound.

eventually, you managed to trace it back all the way to a child. a child?

he was walking with his mother, presumably to the toilet. the mother was holding something. a popcorn wrapper, it seemed.

"these popcorn were delicious, weren't they Raphy? you ate all of it! it's a bit oily though..." the mother trailed off.

oh for fuck's sake. the oil was in the popcorn? that's why the popcorn was free? never trust free food, guys.

you knew the type of oil that was used. after all, you were the one to create it.

virtually impossible to smell but it was practically impossible to get rid of. even in the body, theoretically, the oil could even withstand the stomach's body acid.

one spark of fire and it was over.

you couldn't just tell everyone to evacuate. the heat of the football match had everyone hypnotized.

then you had an idea.

looking at you watch it showed that you had only 20 minutes left.

would you make it?

♕

come on, come on!

you were sprinting on the streets outside of the football stadium. you needed to go to the tallest building in the city.

10 minutes left. need to hurry.

hurry.

hurry.

your mind was showing a much-appreciated slideshow view of what your cherished people would look like dressing up as a charred steak.

finally on top of the tallest skyscraper meters away from the stadium, you opened the bottle you were holding.

you hoped it would work. you cut open the palm of your hand using your nails, allowing the blood to fill the bottle along with another chemical substance that allowed its red pigment to disappear.

the only weakness of the oil you created was the properties of your blood. please work. it has to work.

you jumped as high as you could, causing the ceiling of the skyscraper to crack from the sheer pressure.

you kept going until the atmosphere was cold and it was getting hard to breathe. you quickly sprayed the substance in the bottle along the clouds.

after landing back at the skyscraper with minimum momentum, you sighed. that wasn't even the hard part. the hard part was getting it to rain.

you took a deep breath. it had been a while since you did a feat like this.

once again, you jumped. at the split moment you were in mid-air, at around the same level of the clouds. with a punch, you caused the weather to change.

bet the weather forecast couldn't forecast this, huh?

at the stadium, a grumble of thunder was heard before it started to rain.

seeing no sign of fire, you exhaled a sigh of relief.

success.

"why didn't you just use the air vents to administer your blood?" the tall masked was now behind you.

"isn't it obvious? to lure you hear. also, my blood isn't effective in a gas state." you answered eyes sharpening.

the masked man opened his man revealing a relatively handsome man in his early 20's. he had a wonderful shade of crimson hair and emerald green eyes.

"lets take this somewhere else. wouldn't want someone to find your corpse, would we now, Tartarus?"

the past sure didn't like to leave you alone.

maybe this was karma for everything you did.

♕

- [Name] was given the codename 'Tartarus' because she was born in a prison.