Terminal

Prologue

Just another normal day for murder.

I gaze upon the city lights twinkling in the darkness of the night. The people there have no idea what's coming next. A grin forms on my face as I do a quick weapons inspection. Everything was in place and functioning well, as per usual. I pull a black hood over my short, platinum hair, and make my way down to the oblivious city. An hour and a few minutes past midnight, everyone was bound to be asleep by now. Stealth was key. No one knew who I was anyways, but it was always nice to stay anonymous, to maintain this growing reign of terror over everyone.

I reach the first building unnoticed, and continue to walk. I had a general outline of a plan, but every city's different, so I have to adapt. Wasn't too much of a problem. It was simple: Go in, kill some high ranked people, and kill anyone else who gets in the way. The more dead at the end, the merrier. According to some intel that I've gathered, there was a big meeting going on in the center, and said intel was correct. Multiple guards surrounded the building, and I can't help but smile. It must had been a weird sight: A lone person walking up to a fortified building in the dead of night. Who came up with the idea that a meeting in the wee hours of the night would be a good idea? It doesn't matter, just makes my job easier. The guards at the front door had barely any time to react, quickly falling to the ground as they found their throats slit by my blades.

"Pathetic," I mutter. I don't waste any time, quickly slipping inside the building. The harshness of the lights strikes my eyes, so I wait a few seconds, adjusting to them. The hallways were empty, filled with silence. I approach a stairway and tap my boots on the ground, the edges of them starting to glow a dark blue. I gaze up them, counting the number of flights there were. I wasn't planning on walking, and I grab one of the rails and pull myself to the next floor, my boots helping me defy gravity, containing stolen tech from something called an aero board. I had disassembled one of them in my free time and took the spare parts for my own use. I flew straight up, passing floors with ease, and slowed as I neared the top of the building, swinging my legs back over the railing onto the staircase. The blue glow fades, and I climb the last few steps quietly, crouching against the wall. Faint voices drifted down the hallway, and I make my way over to the door. I finally make out what the people inside were saying.

"We can't just let them rampage our cities like this!" A slam on the table accompanied by the shake of a few glasses.

"There's not much else we can do, the Phantoms are becoming more powerful by the day..." I check the pistols hidden under my cloak, making sure they were loaded. Phantoms? Did they come up with a name for me? Intrigued, I wait and eavesdrop a bit more.

"Almost every day, people are dying from bombings and a plague outbreak-"

"We've already tried quarantining it with little success. It just spreads like a wildfire." I sigh. It was getting boring now. Grasping my pistols, I pull down my hood a bit more, and kick open the door. It takes them a few seconds to react, as they mainly just stared at me.

"Hello boys," I say, bringing the pistols out from behind my back and I start to fire. There was no escape for them, my bullets landing precisely in the middle of their foreheads. There was one man crawling away from me on the floor. He reaches for a phone that dropped, but he was quickly stopped as the screen cracks, a bullet embedded in it. I approach him, the ring on my glove starting to glow a bright red.

"N-n-no... Please! I-I'll do anything you want!" Oh, I just love it when they beg. I grab him by the throat and slam the ring into his neck, his skin sizzling as he screams out in pain. I remove it, a red-black mark burned onto him: two concentric circles, the outer one being broken into eight identical pieces. He groans, barely being able to speak as I prepare a blade from one of my gauntlets.

"Wh-who are you?" he musters out, his voice barely above a whisper. Does it matter that I tell him? Nonetheless, I make the blade pierce his chest, slicing into his heart. I stand back up, watching him bleed to his death.

"Akira."