Mirror World, Year 2018
The sky was red.
It wasn't the red of sunset or fire, but a deep, living crimson that pressed down on the city just like an unhealed wound. Buildings stood twisted and silent beneath it, their windows were hollow and their rooftops slick with ash and dust of the devouring monsters killed.
A woman was running.
Rebecca.
Her boots struck on the concrete with sharp and measured rhythms as she sprinted across the edge of a skyscraper, leaping without hesitation, from next to another. Wind tore past her black assassin suit, hugging her like a second skin of her own. Her buzzcut hair barely moved. Her eyes stayed forward, focused and unafraid.
This was not her first hunt.
Daggers were rested at her side waist. Balanced perfectly to reach. And a pistol held firmly in her grip.
In her ear, a low hum of the pod crackled to life.
"Rebecca," a voice said, strained beneath static.
"Do you really think that you can take down twenty devouring monsters alone?"
Rebecca smirked in mid-jump, landing cleanly and rolling to her feet.
"Rubin," she replied calmly, "Do you really think this little of me?"
A pause.
"No," Rubin answered quickly. "I mean, no. I just... to eliminate more than fifteen devouring monsters, protocol requires a unit of at least six."
Rebecca slowed slightly, vaulting over a broken antenna.
"Hm."
"I know you're elite, and I know you made a bet with that jerk Jake Clinton just from a party tonight," Rubin continued, his voice wavering. "And I also—"
"Really care about me?" Rebecca cut in, her tone teasing but warm.
"Yes... No. I mean—no!" Rubin stammered. Rebecca laughed softly as she chambered a round.
"It's alright, Rubin. Alright."
She stopped at the edge of a roof.
Below her, the streets shifted. The air warped.
And then they came.
Differet types of Devouring monsters clawed their way into the reality, distorted masses of flesh and bone, mouths split too wide and eyes glowing with hunger which was not their own. Their movements were wrong, unnatural and driven by something deeper than instinct.
Rebecca raised her pistol.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Each shot was precise. Heads burst. Bodies collapsed into blackened sludge that evaporated while contact with the ground. She moved fluidly and firing while running, reloading without looking, and leaping from ledge to ledge as monsters swarmed upward.
Ten fell.
Then twenty.
Then thirty.
Her breathing stayed steady.
Until—
Click.
The sound was louder than the scream. Rebecca glanced at the chamber. It was empty and there was no ammunition left. Below her, the streets writhed.
There were too many of Devouring monsters.
Far more than the bet briefing had predicted.
She holstered her pistol and then drew her daggers.
"Rubin," she said calmly, "the numbers of these monsters are increasing rapidly and many unseen."
"Rebecca, please pull back," Rubin urged. "This isn't right—"
But then suddenly more monsters surged.
Rebecca inhaled.
And then she let her Rin answer.
Blue flame ignited along her arms, not burning flesh but reshaping it. The daggers fused into her form as her forearms elongated, edges sharpening into living blades. The air screamed as her power awakened, energy spiraling outward like a storm given shape.
She dropped into the horde.
Steel and flame danced.
Limbs fell. Heads rolled. Bodies dissolved. The ground was full of blood.
She moved without hesitation, slicing through devouring monsters one after another, Rin improving her strength, speed, and will. Fifty fell. Then more.
But then the ground shook.
The monsters changed.
Their forms twisted violently, bones snapping, flesh reforming into something heavier and faster. Their eyes burned brighter. Their screams deepened more.
Mutated.
Rebecca skidded to a halt, breathing hard. "Rubin," she said sharply, "they're mutating in large amount."
Silence. Then panic.
"Rebecca, disengage! That's against the protocol! Come back—now!"
She tried.
She really did.
But the streets closed in. The rooftops collapsed. Every escape turned into another wave of monsters. She fought until the air felt thick, until her Rin burned so fiercely it tore at her nerves.
And then—
Pain.
Her left arm vanished beneath snapping jaws.
Blood sprayed.
Her vision blurred.
But Rebecca did not scream.
She staggered—then stood.
With one arm left, blazing blue, she kept fighting.
But every strike was slower. Every breath was heavier.
In her ear, Rubin's voice cracked.
"Rebecca—please—please come back—" She smiled through blood and tears. "Sergeant Rubin Pearson," she said softly, her voice steady despite everything, "it looks like it's time for this Lieutenant Rebecca Pearson to end her bet."
"No—Rebecca—no—"
"Please," she continued gently, "take care of yourself."
She paused.
"And our daughter, Clare Pearson."
Silence broke into sobs.
"See you in the afterlife, dear."
She reached up, fingers trembling, and pulled the pod from her ear. It clattered against the ground, still echoing Rubin's broken voice.
Rebecca turned toward the endless swarm. Toward the sins watching from beyond. Her blue flame flared one final time.
"Hey," she said, voice raw but unbroken, staring straight into the abyss, "all of you, bastards."
The monsters slowed.
The world held its breath.
"My dear and my daughter will pull your ass out of this world."
The red sky trembled.
And then all the monsters surged at her at once.