THE ASSASSINES.
A government-forged legion of monsters.Elites sculpted from infancy.Weapons made human, sharpened to perfection — and unleashed only when the nation needed power beyond morality, beyond reason, beyond recognition.
They existed without a trace.No civilian knew their names.No politician dared speak of them.They moved like ghosts, acting as the silent spine of global dominance.
But for all their power — they lacked something.Something they chased for years.Something that always escaped their grasp.
Until now.
Across the world, a rumor was born… then it became a whisper… then a legend.
The Vigilante.
A phenomenon no scientist could dissect. No officer could corner. No witness could fully describe.
He moved through shadows like they were loyal animals.A cold-blooded executioner with motives no one dared predict.
People stopped trying to understand him.Stopped rationalizing the bodies or the miracles or the nightmares.
Instead, they prayed.
Prayed he wouldn't turn his attention toward them.Prayed he wouldn't choose their street, their home, their lives.No one wanted to gamble with a ghost.
That night — an unremarkable, random night — Yuri sat on his bedroom floor.
Back leaned against the bed.Rain pattering softly against the window.A silence heavy enough to choke on.
And right in front of him…
The Mask.
The one the world feared.The one he feared even more.
It lay on the floor like an unblinking eye — cold, empty, merciless.Staring straight into him.Scraping at something deep inside his chest.
Anger.Fear.Guilt.Regret.
He didn't know which one it was.That was the part tearing him apart the most.
Knock. Knock.
Yuri stiffened.
"This late…?"
He hadn't heard footsteps leading to the door.No presence.No breathing.Nothing.
Had he been too distracted?Too lost in his own head?
But there was no killing intent behind the knock — none of that thick, suffocating bloodlust he could always sense.
Still, Yuri moved carefully. Silent. Controlled.
He reached the door. Muscle tense. Fist curled.
Then—He ripped the door open.
And froze.
Standing there…
Was Duke.
His colleague. The man he'd only crossed paths with once. A ghost even among ghosts.
Yuri's eyes widened.
Yuri: "Y–You are—"
He never got to finish.
Duke: "Let's skip the BS. You've got minutes. Grab whatever you need… and run. As far as you can. You hear me?"
The words hit like gunfire.
Yuri blinked, stunned — but Duke was already moving.
He stepped onto the balcony railing without hesitation.Wind whipping at his coat.Moonlight carving sharp silver along his jaw.
Under his breath — barely audible:
"You're not allowed to die yet."
Then he jumped.
Gone.
No trace.No sound.No silhouette in the night.
Just… gone.
Yuri stumbled forward, leaning over the railing.
Nothing.
Silence.
His heart pounded violently. Confusion twisting deeper with every breath.
He grabbed the mask and bolted — chasing Duke, chasing answers, chasing anything that made sense.
He ran through streets, over rooftops, across alleys — following a ghost's shadow.
But Duke was nowhere.Nothing.Not even a footprint in the dust.
He climbed onto the peak of a building.Rain poured in cold sheets from a bruised sky.His breathing was frantic, fogging the air around him.
"What is happening…?"
"Excuse me."
A voice cut through the rain.
Cold.Sharp.Almost polite.
Yuri spun instantly, senses on fire—But then…
A warmth behind him.A hand resting lightly — too lightly — on his shoulder.
His blood froze.
"How…"It was all he could force out.
He turned his head—
BOOM!!!
Something slammed into him like a meteor.
Yuri's body rocketed downward — crashing into the empty highway below, concrete exploding under the impact.
He rolled. Hit ground. Rolled again.
He forced himself up — teeth clenched, body shaking — and saw him.
A figure emerging through smoke and rain:
Dark curly hair, wild from the wind.Eyes glowing white, brighter than lightning.A dark shirt under a pristine white jacket, untouched by the chaos around him.A scythe spinning casually between his fingers.
And a grin — flawless, careless, predatory.
"Dang! Almost went overboard there, huh? Bet this the first time you've ever been scratched."He laughed, dripping mockery.
Yuri snapped.
He lunged — vanishing, reappearing in the air — striking down with full force.
But the man blocked the blow easily with the shaft of his scythe, sending violent air currents rippling outward.
Yuri didn't hesitate.He swung upward with a punch — blocked again, this time with the man's palm.Yuri unleashed a flurry of blows, each one faster than the last—
But the stranger's grin only grew.
He weaved through Yuri's attacks like it was a game.
Then suddenly—
He seized Yuri's wrist.Pulled him in—
KRAK—!
A brutal knee to Yuri's jaw.
The world blinked.
The man followed through with a vicious scythe strike—SMACK!Sending Yuri crashing into a parked car, metal folding like paper.
His laughter burst through the night:
"THIS?! This is the so-called 'WEAPON'? Pathetic!"
But when he looked up—
BAWWW!!!
A car slammed into him mid-sentence — hurled by Yuri's recovering fury.
The man was launched across the highway.
Yuri didn't waste a second.He darted away, searching for better footing—
VWUP!!!
A hand grabbed his ankle.
Yuri was yanked violently and flung across the asphalt, rolling through dust and debris.
He dug his heel in, stopping himself just in time—
But the sky split—
CRASH!!!
The man descended from above like a demon, scythe slamming into Yuri's guard, carving a crater into the road.
The man's grin faltered.
Confusion flickered across his face.
Yuri was holding the scythe.Stopping it.
And before the man could react—
BAM!!
Yuri drove a punch straight into his gut — sending him rocketing through a building, glass shattering like screams.
Silence.
Dust.Rain.Shattered glass dancing in the air.
They both breathed heavily.
Then—
CRACK.
A small fracture formed across Yuri's mask.
A thin line.
But the sound boomed through his entire body.His chest tightened sharply — painfully — as if something inside him had been stabbed.
A voice broke the silence:
Laughter — wild, echoing, sharp enough to slice through the night.
Slow clapping followed.
The man stepped from the wreckage, wiping blood from his lip.
"Well, well, well! Guess I underestimated you, lil bro. HOW FUN WAS THAT!?!"
His eyes gleamed with twisted excitement.Yuri's expression turned cold. Empty. Something fundamental inside him shifted.
The man's grin sharpened.
"Hear me now, oh great weapon. When we meet again… you and I will be completely different people."
He lifted his scythe, pointing it lazily toward Yuri.
"That is my order. My final judgment."
Then his tone shifted — cold, precise, yet roaring with pride.
"Don't you dare forget this name, lil bro.YUTA."
He smirked.And vanished.
Not a sound.Not a trace.Just the rain… and destruction…
And Yuri standing alone in the ruins.
Again.