The Long Night (1)

"First attempt, failure."

The cold wind howled, and from beneath the exquisite podium in the empty square came a hissing sound, sharp as the grinding of teeth.

The sound made it seem less than human. Besides, a human would likely not converse with themselves in such a manner.

"I will continue to try; do not get in my way," the person hidden beneath the podium said. "This is my mission."

Then, it fell silent—a few seconds later, a Shadow clad in pitch-black leather crawled out from under the podium.

Judging by its body alone, one could not tell if it was male or female. Furthermore, its movements betrayed a stiff, mechanical dullness.

The Shadow bent down and dragged a massive firearm from beneath the podium. It was pitch-black and vicious, unlike the cheap weapons of the gangs or high-end autoguns. It was a terrifying firearm that looked lethal in the extreme.

Just like its master.

The Shadow lifted the gun and slung it onto its back. With a soft click, the weapon was secured against its smooth back. It was eerie yet natural; the Shadow felt nothing amiss.

It seemed to have done this hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

Then, it began to run, with astonishing speed. It tore through the air and reached the opposite side of the square in the next instant.

Its physique was not athletic, and the tight leather suit left its curves fully exposed. Biologically speaking, its build should not have allowed for such velocity.

But this was Nostramo.

"Looks like augmentation."

Atop a spire near the square, Karyl, who had returned at some unknown moment, watched its movements and shook his head with a smile.

"Still the same old routine. Hasn't this been popular for years? How is it not out of style yet?"

"Karyl, he seems to be moving toward us," Wraith whispered.

"I know."

"I can kill him."

"Yes, you can."

"Let me go?" Wraith asked, with a hint of pleading that was obvious to Karyl.

"No, Wraith. This is my job. Sticking to one's duties is the best way to work, isn't it? Go handle the sentries in those buildings; they seem to be waiting for us to reappear."

Karyl turned his head and winked at Wraith with a smile. "Give them a surprise, how about that?"

"...But, you—"

"—I'll be fine." Wraith narrowed his eyes. "Go."

Wraith was silent for a few seconds before finally departing. He was only eighteen months old, but he could already grasp the shallow implications of tonight's ambush.

Therefore, he would not refuse the cleanup work.

And Karyl knew this very well.

The day has come, the day has come.

He exhaled softly.

I intended to set the world ablaze when this day arrived, Wraith, but your appearance revealed another possible hope to me.

A way to burn away the darkness without having to burn the world along with it.

And I shall ignite this precious flame with my own hands.

Blue light ignited within his eyes; for the first time, Karyl accepted this power without reservation. It began to flow through his limbs and bones, and in the darkness, that voice piercing the veil returned.

As always, it carried a fatherly gentleness, but Wraith ignored it entirely.

He merely sneered, letting It knock upon the gates of his sanity, letting It whisper in his ear.

Nothing could influence him anymore.

Wraith spread his arms and leaped.

Amidst the biting wind and the tearing sensation of the rapid descent, he abandoned all the rules he had ever set for himself, tearing away all restraints and caution.

The day has come.

He no longer needed to endure the pain.

The Shadow climbed a building in silence.

Its hands were incredibly steady, its ten fingers possessing terrifying precision. Every time it climbed, it inserted them into the gaps between the bricks, ensuring it would never suffer any accidents common to free-climbing.

Soon, it reached the side of the shattered gargoyle. It stared at the remains of the stone beast; its face, entirely wrapped in pitch-black leather, left no room for eyes to observe, yet it was observing.

Without a doubt, this was quite bizarre.

But this was Nostramo, after all. Anything could happen, and nothing would seem strange.

—Among these things, naturally, included a Wraith falling from the sky.

"BOOM—!"

A deafening crash erupted as masonry sprayed in every direction. Shadow had been forcibly slammed into the building's interior; the hallway had been cleared in advance, leaving no one else present, which made the sound of his impact against the wall seem all the more violent.

What was happening?

Shadow was completely unprepared for this sudden assault. He had never imagined anyone could launch a high-altitude ambush with such speed. The power behind it was terrifying; a single strike had sent him flying backward.

The attacker followed close behind.

Clearly unwilling to give him a chance to retaliate, the attacker struck again the moment Shadow scrambled to his feet.

Two points of blue light flared in the darkness, vanishing as quickly as they appeared, followed immediately by a fierce, silvery glint. The blades pierced his leather coat and sliced across his flesh, yet the sound they produced was akin to metal clashing against metal.

Shadow let out a low growl, the sound of grinding gears emanating from his arms. He lunged forward with both hands, managing to block the two blades in the next instant.

"Ha."

The attacker chuckled in the darkness.

"The people who modified you were certainly willing to spend a fortune, replacing your skin with adamantine. But doesn't it hurt? Your body must be trying to heal, right? Every time you move, the metal lodged in your flesh causes agony, doesn't it?"

"You know a great deal," Shadow replied coldly. "But it is useless. You have brought shame upon the Skolevok Family, and I will take you back to face judgment."

"Judgment."

The attacker sighed.

"Judgment." He chuckled, his laughter echoing and growing in volume. "The Skolevok Family wants to judge me?"

Shadow took a sudden step forward, the clicking of his gears sounding stark amidst the intense movement. He threw a punch, intending to force his target back with close-quarters combat.

And then—

"Bang!"

With a single kick, Shadow was sent flying once more. He crashed through three walls in astonishment, utterly unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

He certainly couldn't understand.

The attacker approached slowly, his footsteps thudding dully in the silent darkness, accompanied by a mocking remark.

"Don't you find this whole affair just a bit ridiculous?"

Shadow climbed to his feet again. At these words, he raised his left hand and tore off his hood, revealing a face covered in metal.

The features were crudely carved, yet the edges of the metal bore exquisite engravings, creating an absurd sense of contrast. A Skolevok Family crest glowed with a dull light in the center of his forehead.

Where his eyes should have been, there were two pitch-black voids. At this moment, a surge of fury was flowing within them.

"You are courting death," he said coldly. "No matter who stands behind you, you are doomed, and your family has already lost. The Skolevok Family has completely seized Quintus; we will use this as a base to rule all of Nostramo!"

"Interesting."

The attacker nodded thoughtfully. "For a noble assassin, you seem to know a bit too much."

"I am the Shadow of the Skolevok Family, you ignorant piece of filth!"

He roared and charged at the attacker with terrifying momentum, a strange sound of grinding gears erupting from within his body, drowning out even the sound of his footsteps.

"Kneel! That way you might be spared the agony of the flesh! I know you have undergone physical augmentation, but flesh cannot overcome steel!"

"Kneel to a puppet? No, I think I'll pass."

The attacker chuckled and vanished from where he stood, moving with such speed that Shadow could not even catch a trace of his path.

He raised his hands in vigilance, guarding against the blade strike that could come at any moment—as long as he found one opening, he would make that piece of filth regret ever becoming an enemy of the Skolevoks!

How could a mere flesh-augmenter hurt skin that was sworn to be protected by the Skolevok Family?

How could an attacker who didn't even know the name of the Skolevok Shadow be so arrogant? Did his family not know what it meant to oppose the Skolevoks at such a critical juncture?!

However.

Nothing.

No attack came, no blades tore through the air, and there was no strike with the immense power he had felt before.

Shadow moved slowly. He did not intend to sit and wait for death; he would take the initiative and find his opponent.

His gun rattled on his back, and the sound of gears turning within his body was intense. He focused, searched, and yearned—and in doing so, he overlooked one thing.

Something he should have noticed long ago, but which was now masked by the sound of the gears driven by his own rage.

Temperature.

The temperature began to drop, cold enough that the water vapor in the air turned into frost. The ground began to ice over; Shadow stepped across it, the sound of tiny fractures ringing out, yet he remained oblivious.

Then, a voice sounded, echoing through the room.

"There are no distinct seasonal changes on Nostramo, but I still prefer to divide the year into four seasons. It is winter now, Shadow of the Skolevok Family. Winter. It is very cold, Shadow."

Where?!

Shadow turned a deaf ear to the attacker's words, his eyes darting through the dark corners, trying to find his enemy in the empty building.

The temperature continued to plummet until, reaching a certain critical point, Shadow suddenly froze.

The sound of his gears grinding also stalled, and a strange clicking began to resonate within his body. At that precise moment, the attacker stepped out from the darkness, his eyes glowing with a fierce, chilling blue light.

"You!" Shadow spoke with resentment, his right hand moving stiffly as he still tried to reach for the attacker.

"Yes, me."

Karyl gazed at him calmly. "Save your strength; it's better for both of us."

"Don't count on it! Even if I can't drag you back to face judgment, I will kill you for the sake of the family!" Shadow growled.

"Quiet down, will you? I am going to see your family." Karyl said softly. "I'll be paying them a visit tonight, so you really should be quiet."

"Metal reacts in a peculiar way with your mangled flesh at low temperatures, Shadow. In other words, even if I do nothing at all, you are already dying."

"I'm going to kill you—!"

"Hmm." Karyl shook his head with a smile, walked slowly to Shadow's side, raised his hand, and pressed it against his forehead.

A strange, jarring sound erupted the very next second. Shadow's body shuddered violently, and then, he actually let out a scream.

Ten seconds later, the screaming ceased. With a dull thud, a body encased in metal collapsed to the ground, silent forever.

Karyl stood where he was, saying nothing, his throat bobbing. After a while, he slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

"So, you can be used this way, too." He muttered to himself. "Extracting memories. Truly terrifying."

And truly disgusting.

What have I done?

The Vengeful Wraith lowered his head, closed his eyes, and began to sift through Shadow's memories.

Just as he had told Shadow, the night was still long, and he would be paying the Skolevok Family a visit.