Why does one choose to live?
Why does one choose to act?
Is it for survival?
For enjoyment?
Out of fear of death?
Because of Fate?
Or simply out of boredom?
Humans were strange beings.
…
"Pull out the cutter."
The sound of rustling bags.
"Faster, man."
"Don't rush me, asshole."
Five figures, wearing ski masks, stood before a steel door.
"We don't have much time," the boss said, his voice stern and controlled.
"Why we gotta do this now, boss? My girl's waitin' for me and we was gonna do the deed!" one of the grunts complained. His remark earned snickers from the others, but the boss's glare silenced him.
"Because the Big Man wants those vials. And we do not question the Big Man. Understood?"
Two words were enough to shut them all up.
The Big Man. One of the four pillars of villainy in Fusionight City.
Low-lives like them never knew his real identity, nor did they want to. Anyone who did either disappeared or was said to be dragged down to hell at his side. Their guide? The Demon of Fusionight City.
The Big Man never met with them personally. Instead, they received orders from his messengers, those who spoke with his authority. And in return for their obedience, they were granted protection.
Alone, crime was suicide. Superheroes were stretched thin, yes, but still dangerous. One unlucky run-in could end it all. Under the Big Man's banner, though, they had safety from rival gangs, the tech they needed for jobs, and a guarantee of rescue if caught.
All they had to do was steal. For him, and only him.
"The only way to get what we're after is underground," the boss said, waiting.
"Through this school…?" one grunt guessed hesitantly.
"That's right. Unfortunately, this is the only known tunnel into the facility. So we go in, get it done, and get out."
At last, one of them pulled a strange device from the bag, positioning it against the metal door.
"Save it first," the boss reminded.
The grunt flipped a switch. The door glowed faintly yellow.
"Open sesame!" another shouted as the device fired.
A laser cut through the door, burning out a wide chunk of metal.
"Don't worry about the damage. We can restore it after we're done." The boss stepped through first. "Stay close to me. This badge will interfere with the cameras."
"That's so damn cool. Feels like we're in a spy movie or something," one of them grinned.
The others rolled their eyes and kept moving.
It didn't take long to reach the basement.
"Spread out. Look for the passage," the boss ordered.
"Yo, you think anything spicy's goin' on up above? Maybe there's a prom or something. Some kid's probably makin' a move right now."
"What? Man, get your head outta the gutter. We're workin'."
"Fine, fine."
Minutes later, they found it.
"That's… it?"
The grunt's tone wasn't disappointment. It was fear.
The vault door looked more like a bunker than a passage. A heavy touch panel glowed beside it.
"That's it," the boss confirmed.
He pulled out a torn piece of paper with the code. One number was missing. That meant trying different combinations until one clicked.
The others shifted uneasily as he worked.
"This is under a school? Gives me the creeps."
"You're tellin' me."
"Anyone else feel something… wrong?"
DING!
The panel flashed green.
The vault door screeched as it opened, releasing a hiss of stale air.
"Hopefully nobody heard that."
Darkness stared back at them, thick and unbroken. It felt ancient, like light had never once touched it.
"Goggles up," the boss ordered.
The bagman passed around night vision goggles.
Swoosh.
They froze.
"…Did anyone else feel that chill?"
No one answered.
"Let's move. The faster we're in and out, the better."
The goggles flickered to life, painting the abyss in shades of green.
And so, one by one, they stepped forward and descended into the dark.
None of them noticed the dark mist curling at their heels.
…
The path down was long.
The stairs were decrepit, groaning under their weight. Dust fell with every step, and it was clear no one had maintained them in years.
"Jesus Christ, finally," one grunt muttered when they reached the bottom. "Felt like a hundred steps. We gotta be fifty feet underground by now."
"Enough," the boss snapped. "We're nowhere near done."
He pointed toward a long hallway ahead. The walls were painted in one dull color, cracked and flaking, as if the place itself had started to rot.
"I don't like this," another muttered.
"You're making it worse just by saying that."
At the end of the corridor, they found a strange door. It seemed to react to their presence, trying to slide open, only to jam halfway.
The boss sighed, clearly expecting this. "Help me force it."
With great effort, they pried it open. Beyond was what looked like a research facility. The entrance resembled a lobby—though lifeless, coated in dust.
"What the hell…" one of them muttered.
Another pointed toward a side hallway. Lining it were rows of cages.
"Cages?"
Some had bars missing. Others had been bent outward, pried open from the inside.
A heavy silence fell over the group.
"Guns ready," the boss ordered calmly. "The facility should be empty, but if we run into any… entities, don't hesitate."
Entities. That was the word they had been given. None of them knew what it meant exactly. Only that they were not human.
"If it moves, I shoot," one of the grunts said.
He got a few sharp looks but shrugged. "Other than you guys, obviously."
They pressed on. Soon they found a laboratory. Beakers, broken glass, and containers coated in dust filled the shelves. Strange vials of liquid sat untouched, some glowing faintly.
One grunt reached for a vial of black fluid. It swirled unnaturally inside, almost alive.
Then it came.
GOOOOOOOOOURAAAAAAAAAA
The sound was inhuman, shaking the walls, crawling into their bones.
They rushed out, weapons raised.
And froze.
Standing in the hall was a figure. A humanoid, dressed in a sleek black business suit. Its skin was pale, almost corpse-white, its hair as dark as midnight. Its face was hidden behind a pitch-black mask from which two flames of burning blue fire blazed outward.
Both its hands were clad in strange gauntlets. In one it held a sword, the blade dripping with a viscous black substance that steamed as it fell to the ground. The smell was acrid, metallic, and wrong.
Behind it lay the bisected corpse of another creature, something grotesque and unrecognizable.
The humanoid tilted its head. When it spoke, the voice was cocky, grating, self-deprecating, yet playful in the most unsettling way.
"Sorry about the entrance. Hopefully I didn't ruin the mood. Not my first time, y'know. I'm pretty famous for it."
They stared at him, too shocked to speak.
"Oh, don't mind that one," he added, nodding toward the bisected thing at his feet. "He was already having a bad day."
Silence. Then he leaned slightly forward.
"Any chance I could just ask you nicely to leave?"
The voice was too cheerful, too twisted. You could almost hear the smile behind the mask.
"No."
The boss fired.
The gunshot thundered through the hall. But the bullet never landed. In a flash, the figure raised a shield formed from nothing, the projectile clattering uselessly against it.
The cockiness vanished. The voice deepened, hardening into something cruel and cold.
"Ah. Can't say I didn't try."
He raised his hand. A torrent of thick, black mist poured from his palm, flooding the hall, swallowing walls and ceiling alike. Even their night vision goggles turned useless.
And then there was nothing but the sound of breathing.
Nothing but the dark.
…
Splash!
The sound of a running faucet echoed in the restroom.
Boring.
The young Darklight splashed more water onto his face.
How utterly boring.
He shut the faucet off, though drops still seeped through. For some reason, that only irritated him more.
He lifted his gaze to the mirror, staring at his reflection.
A young man glared back. His styled hair, neat at the beginning of the night, now hung in wet, chaotic strands. His suit was damp around the shoulders, fabric showing signs of pulling and tearing.
That, especially, set him off.
"Animals. Can't even let a man take a piss in peace."
He turned his head. Behind him, three larger teens lay sprawled across the restroom floor.
Two were already unconscious. The third clung to the edge of it.
Nicholas crouched to his level. "I mean, seriously. I thought the restroom was at least a sacred place."
The boy's eyes fluttered shut.
"Hey. No sleeping yet, I wanna complain. And since you attacked me, I think it's only fair if you hear me out." Nicholas tapped his cheek lightly until his eyes refocused.
"I mean, seriously, all I wanted was to take a leak. And what awaited me? Three asshats pouring a bucket of water on me while I'm in the stall. Breaking the knob. Trying to beat me up. Who the hell thinks of that?"
Nicholas rose to his feet. He hauled the other two boys upright and propped them against the wall instead of leaving them sprawled on the floor. He even grabbed some napkins, tucking them under their backsides so they wouldn't catch a cold.
"If this was because of Lillie, then it was really stupid of you. I mean, can't you tell fake crying from real crying?" He glanced at the half-conscious boy while adjusting him beside his friends. "Then again, what do I know about human emotions? Maybe she was crying."
He gave a dry laugh.
"I mean, really, I do so much, yet I make it worse. So why do people keep asking for my help? It's insanity. Absolute insanity."
He grabbed another handful of napkins, halfheartedly trying to blot his soaked suit.
Keyword being try.
"I really should've beaten you harder. This isn't even my suit, you know? It's my dad's. What's he gonna say when he sees it like this? He might just beat me." The words spilled out without thought, like a dam cracked open.
The teen's eyelids drooped again.
"Anyway. Do what you want when you wake up. Tell on me, don't tell on me, I don't care. Just know it's going to be embarrassing for you. Three athletic students, beaten up by a skinny nobody? I'd crawl into a hole and die. Don't know about you guys."
He grinned—sharp, unpleasant.
Then he left the stall, his expression a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It hid more irritation than amusement.
"Man. I really don't understand people," he muttered.
"Something we can agree on."
"Gah-!" Nicholas jolted at the sudden voice.
Selene stood just outside the restroom, watching him.
'Okay, now I can see why that would be annoying,' Nicholas thought, remembering when he had waited outside the restroom for Sera and Lillie.
"How long have you been listening?" Nicholas asked directly. He had no patience for whatever Selene was planning, nor any desire to dance around the issue.
"Enough." She replied with complete nonchalance, as if it didn't matter that he had just taken down three boys larger than him without so much as a scratch.
"Great. Now what do you want?"
"Your 'right'."
Nicholas tilted his head, confused. "Huh?"
She sighed. "What you consider 'right.' I hate it. It wouldn't be far off to say I despise it."
"Well, good for you." His tone was sharp, exasperated. "And I should care, why?"
"You've lost my interest. Never speak to me again."
Her words were cold, final. She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Nicholas standing there in stunned silence.
They'd disagreed plenty of times before, but they had always respected that each of them was entitled to their own opinion. So what exactly was different now?
"Ghk!" Nicholas clawed furiously at his hair.
When he finally stopped tormenting his scalp, he turned and walked in the opposite direction from the Ice Queen.
That was when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.
"Oh~ Darklight. Wha'chu doin' all the way out here? The party's that way." Ms. Heath slurred sluggishly.
Nicholas instinctively covered his nose. She reeks.
"Are… are you drunk?" he asked bluntly.
"Haah? 'Course not. If I were, I'd lose my job."
"Between you and me, I think that'd be better for your health."
"Just because you're right doesn't mean you should say it."
Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
It was surprising how lax the school staff actually were. He had thought this place would be uptight, strict. Yet the only ones acting like they had a stick shoved up their backs were the students themselves.
Finally, he was just about to step outside and breathe in the cool night air—when he froze.
Something felt wrong.
Five shadows lurked not far away.
They weren't students. They weren't teachers. He didn't recognize them at all.
He could ignore it. It wasn't his business. Maybe they were just workers, electricians, or something.
Still…
He had to check.
If it was nothing, great.
Better safe than sorry.
…
"The school basement…?" he muttered. What would masked thugs be doing in a school?
Then he smacked his forehead. Duh. It's not a regular school, dumbass. He berated himself.
Now the real question was what exactly they were after.
It was clear they had no intention of taking hostages. They had carefully avoided both the gymnasium and the teachers' lounge.
Nicholas followed at a distance, careful not to make a sound.
Once the group entered the basement, he lingered by the door, waiting to see if they would come back out.
He didn't need to. He could hear them perfectly—even through the closed door.
When they started talking about a vault door in the ground, he acted.
Extending his hand, he summoned a wisp of darkness and slipped it under the door, letting it snake toward one of the thugs' shoes. If it latched on, it would make tracking them much easier.
Once their voices faded, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The basement was old and dusty, the air stale and heavy.
He raised his hand, dark mist already pooling at his fingertips, ready to shape itself into a familiar shape. But then he froze.
He remembered.
The demon's words: how 'Unknown' was dead, and how, should he return, the demon would make sure Unknown stayed dead.
Then there was the man in the purple robes, Riot. Riot had nearly killed him. When Riot had let him go, Riot had told him to get stronger, to fight again.
So what was he supposed to do?
Was he doomed either way?
Finally, he recalled the Mind's words.
Enjoy your youth.
"What a load of crap," he muttered.
This 'youth' he was supposed to enjoy—where was it?
It was stressful. Tedious. Annoying.
Filled with pointless drama.
Worst of all, it was unbearably boring.
"If I'm dead either way," he whispered, "I might as well try to get stronger so there's at least a chance I don't die."
With that, his resolve solidified.
The mask of 'Unknown' materialized fully in his hand. He pulled it over his face, the familiar weight settling onto him like a second skin.
"I'll make the most of my youth," he said quietly, "in the way I want to."
And with that, Unknown descended the stairway.