Ghouligan made direct contact with the avatar’s skull. The man dematerialized into blue, pixelated static momentarily blinding him. When his eyesight returned, nothing was left behind — his weapons, clothes, everything was gone.

Game over.

Then there was the pesky, little gunman. He haphazardly aimed his bullets as he ran for the exit. The bullets found themselves plunged within six victims. Four suffered non-fatal blows even if they felt as though they were dying. Two of his victims, however, were immediately alleviated from their pain.

---

The first was Norma, a middle-aged woman who stumbled into a bowling alley. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten here until she was greeted by the white, toothy smiles from her sisters. It was her mother’s 70th birthday and as per usual she was late. Her sisters teased her about it but it all melted when she kissed the top of her mother’s head.

“Better late than never.” Her mother said. She was always grateful for the time she had with her family. It was a gratitude her daughters inherited. So, when she passed the following weekend, they gathered around and mourned her death in the only way they could: with smiles and laughter. But the weekend hasn’t come yet and there’s no one to mourn and everyone’s getting gutter balls.

It was time for the bumpers.

---

Then there was Asahi, a young Japanese boy whose sneakers squeaked against the gymnasium floor. The score was 13-12 and he lifted his paddle into the air. Ping pong had captured his heart and today was the day he dethroned his rival, his mentor, and his best friend as best in the club. Everyone was cheering, but the battle was for more than a title. Asahi’s rival had quit. After years as the best in his district, he was going to focus on his studies in hopes of finding what he truly loved. Asahi refused.

Three months ago the challenge was issued: at the end of the semester they played, and if he won, then the former champion would have to rejoin. But the conditions didn’t matter. Asahi knew that if he won, then he’d reignite the flame inside of him.

Takaba. Hated. Losing.

Asahi slammed down. 14-12. He’d never forget Takaba’s face.

---

And then there was the pesky, little gunman. Two steps into his escape, he stumbled onto the ground. His face was cold. And when he reached up to grab the burning of his nose, he was met with frigid stone and warm blood. He blinked a few times before he collapsed onto the ground, another corpse littering the bank.

Antoine would like to hope the gunman found solace. Antoine hoped the synapses of his mind took him to a place to reflect on his mistakes. Antoine hoped he’d come to regret his final moments and repent to whatever divine creator he subscribed to. Antoine hoped even a murderer like him could find peace.

The bank was silent. And then it wasn’t.

Sirens blared.

---

Everyone deserves a day off.

Security work was hardly ‘work’ for someone as enthusiastic as Antoine, eager to put down any menace brave enough to stir the peaceful atmosphere of Bernie’s Burgers. The most difficult challenge was fighting the onset of boredom. His reputation preceded him. While there were few troublemakers in the first place, the restaurant had seen a steady decline in thieves and violent perpetrators. As a reward and as a way to save money, Bernard gave him the day off! Yet he succumbed to ennui all the same.

Heroes patrolled the city. Antoine took note of their general territories — with an established network to worry about, he scribbled notes on a napkin he pulled from his pocket. Heroes were a whimsical bunch but everyone had patterns. Today was about monitoring the system and finding the holes within it, the gritty little alleyways criminals hid within to hide from the institution.

Some were brave enough to venture into the light, the same fame-seeking types that desperately pined for the flashes of a camera. They cast away ideology and predicated their existence on the amount of attention they could garner.

Disgusting.

Still, the system would deal with them all the same. And if they found a way back into the world, if they found the call of renown and stardom too alluring, Antoine would put them down.

He’s on the way home when the message finds him. The way they spoke… Gadget? Looking over the photo, he recognized a few landmarks.



When he arrives, things have escalated. Ghouligan puts his hand on Gadget’s shoulder, with an umbral finger raised to the crooked smile of his demon mask.

“What’s the situation?”

---

[attr="class","likedo"]

[attr="class","likedo"]

[attr="class","likedo"]

Met who? A meaningless question — any response would have been. For someone so quick to point their wretched fingers, Shion kept their own secrets, too. There was something atypical about this extraterrestrial as if its very existence didn’t bring up a plethora of questions. Antoine knew better, but it felt like more than a quirk. It felt alive.

“Everyone feels fear,” When Antoine lost his father, he fell into pits of despair. Not only for the loss of a parent but for the loss of his future. As irresponsible as he was, his father always put food on the table. Antoine never questioned when he’d get his next meal. It was a luxury he had taken for granted as he sat in his empty home, resentful of his father’s gambling addiction. “But I’m not here to share my story. Let alone with a stranger.”

He only knew of one way to illustrate the point.

“Find me a mustard seed from a house that has not suffered the death of a family member and I’ll tell you my story.” The parable offered plausible deniability. “Until then...”

Antoine stepped back. The night was young and he had places to be. And if Shion continued to pry into Antoine’s life, then he saw no point in pursuing this conversation further.

---

“We can settle on a vetting system once we’ve vetted each other,” Antoine said. “I’m not delusional about the circumstances. I’m sure we’re all going to have our methods of investigation. And it’s going to take time before any of us truly trust one another.”

There were some here he trusted more than others. Stalker had proved himself open and trusting, already spilling his first name in their initial encounter. Unless this was a long con, there was little reason to think him malicious. He thought the same of Gadget — she wore her heart on her sleeve, even if she wore dozens of faces to compensate. Then, there was G. Less trust, but they had an upcoming rendezvous. He had seen their intentions. All that was left to check were their methods.

Then, the strangers. He knew not of Warper, Guts, and Ronin. Based on first impressions… Guts was safe. If not, they would have compromised their entire operation. Warper could be a mole, creating a backdoor for the encrypted network. And the most worrisome was Ronin. Of the things Antoine could guarantee, it was everyone’s safety. He had strength beyond his own in Stalker but saw the flaws he could exploit. Even then, his resounding character — despite his demeanor — made him the one he trusted most here. But with Ronin’s alleged skillset, Antoine wondered if he had put everyone in danger… more danger than he could protect them from.

He glanced at the Ronin’s blade. I need tougher balls...

“As far as business is concerned, I think we’re done here. I’ll be making contact with each of you within a few days. Take care of yourselves out there.”

Ghouligan would be the last to leave, ensuring no one was left behind. And if there were any unsuspecting visitors or those hiding amongst the shadows, he’d deal with them appropriately.

---