As the multiversal tournament of power draws to a close, all mortal life in Universe 6 is obliterated. Unexpectedly, Hit, its legendary millennium assassin, is pardoned and given a second chance at life. His soul is whisked away, bypassing the fabri...
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'Now this is more like it'.
Hit was pleasantly surprised by the sights that welcomed him: bustling shops, huge crowds, a multitude of stalls selling trinkets and baubles. Orario was the heart of humanity in this world, producing all the necessary energy and resources for its growth. As an expert assassin, Hit had learned how to expertly meander through crowds like a fish through water and could pinpoint his targets instantly.
'I could do without the escort though'. It was for this reason that he noticed a straggler.
The former assassin glanced behind him; a guard struggled to keep up with him, almost stumbling over people and dropping his spear as he went.
'Such an obvious stalker. They haven't even bothered to blend in with the crowd'. Hit shook his head. 'I'll show this newbie how it's done'.
Hit proceeded to effortlessly weave between oncoming pedestrian traffic; the guard blinked, and his quarry was gone.
This disappearing act was a cinch to Hit, he was a legendary figure after all. Concealing his presence was essential to navigating the cosmos. His prey never knew of his approach until it was too late.
"Wait...What!? Where did he go?", the fledgling guard exclaimed in a panicked voice. He turned his head left and right as he scanned his surroundings, anxiously, to no avail.
"Lady Varma's gonna kill me!" The young man pulled at his hair in worry.
'Better luck next time'. Hit peeked from behind a corner, leading into a dimly lit alley. Having had his fun, he got back to business: getting a layout of this new area.
'I should stick to the shadows, much easier to gather data.' Hit silently phased into the murk.
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The labyrinthine passageways were a struggle, even for Hit, but he had dealt with similar cities in the past. Buildings encircled a focal point of some sort, in this case the tower of Babel. Major Roads jutted out from the centre and allowed the transport of supplies to and from the core of the settlement. Overall, this pattern made the city look like a cartwheel from above, fitting as it perfectly described the rhythm of city life: a perpetual cycle of activity. As the day went by, Hit noticed a large congregation of people entered and exited the tower of Babel, as if it were breathing.
