Immortal

Crawling King Snake (Chapter 1)

The Astral Gate accident of 2022 was the most colossal tragedy in all of our history, yet it served as the catalyst for an era of unbelievably expeditious technological advancement. In the span of half a century, humanity was able to populate the entire Solar System, creating an empire that our ancestors couldn't begin to imagine. However, crime and corruption seemed even more prevalent, now that crooks had infinitely more chances to evade law enforcement. As a response to this, bounty hunters saw a tremendously increased demand for their services and grew exponentially in numbers over the years.

Currently, the year was 2071. The eventful year was already more than halfway over and a gray, cold, quiet night like this one would fool anyone to think that probably not much was going on on the big martian city of Tharsis... Oh boy, how wrong would they be.

The Red Dragon Syndicate used to be a powerful, structured crime organization. They were feared narcotic traders and assassins, but tonight they had lost everything. They'd lost their leaders, killed in cold blood, not by an outsider but by one of their own. They'd lost their headquarters, watching as their once prestigious and distinguished skyscraper crumbled right in front of them. They'd lost so many lives, all taken away by a single man. The same man who'd blasted the building to ruins. A top member of the syndicate who should have been dead for three years, now rogue, facing Vicious, their self proclaimed new leader. They would soon find out they had lost Vicious as well.

Spike Spiegel.

There he was, a ghost in the flesh.

The almost blinding lights from the martian police aircraft, shining though the half intact glass ceiling at the very top of the building, made everything seem even more surreal. The policemen dispatched to the scene knew better than to engage in any way with the mafia, so they just watched.

He slowly made his way down the big stairway, one step at a time. His head hung low and his left arm was over his abdomen. Blood was rushing down his face and neck, more of it soaking his tattered, dark blue suit and his long, brown coat. No one mustered the courage to shoot. Lowering every gun, the remaining Red Dragon members stared, dead silent and transfixed, at the man heading their way. All that could be heard were the thuds of his boots.

He lifted his chin up, sighing. A small smirk grew on his face as he extended his right arm forward pointing his index finger at the men below.

"Bang." His voice was low and serene. His hand recoiled slightly to resemble a gun.

Spike fell forward.

The world was a still frame for the longest time before a few of the shocked men started to turn their backs to the scene and leave, one by one. Those who remained were all wondering the same thing – What now?

The most respected member of the syndicate left standing was Uriah Hendrik, an older gentleman with slightly unkept gray hair and mustache. According to the hierarchy, he was the most likely candidate for leadership if both Vicious and Spike Spiegel were out of the picture.

Neo Nathair knew that just as well as everyone else who stood there. This man easily stood out, sporting a big scar that went from below his right eye across his cheek, ending below his right earlobe. His face was clean shaven, except for some light stubble on his chin that complimented his slicked back gray hair.

He saw almost every pair of eyes darting from Spike to Uriah, and back to Spike. Uriah was still unresponsive, so Neo ceased the opportunity to make his move. He knew better than to let this pass. Eyes gleaming with pride and ambition that rivaled Vicious' own, he slithered in front of the fallen man.

"The Red Dragon must prevail." He paused, letting people tune in. "I see no one else stepping forward, so I'd like to volunteer to lead the syndicate through these chaotic times."