Rayven sat alone at a small, grimy bar on the outskirts of town, nursing shot after shot of cheap whiskey. The flickering screen of the tiny TV mounted behind the counter replayed the latest headlines. Someone had overthrown the government in the capital city. The world was clearly unraveling.
"The world's going to shit these days, huh?" the bartender muttered, polishing a glass.
Rayven shrugged without looking away from the screen. "More chaos means more money for me. Can't complain."
Before she could take another sip, the bar's door slammed open. Four street thugs stumbled inside, drunk and loud. One of them, swaying with a sloppy grin, sidled up and draped a hand over Rayven's shoulder.
"Heeyyy babe, wanna… s=get dirty with me? You don't want me to get angry, do you?" His slurred voice was thick with menace.
Rayven's eyes narrowed. "You wanna see angry? Normally, I save that for paying customers."
With a slow, deliberate motion, she shrugged off her varsity jacket and scarf, standing tall. She pulled a dagger from her belt, sliced a line across her palm, and pressed her bleeding hand against a glowing rune inked on the back of her neck.
Outside the bar, a deep red light spilled from the windows, cutting through the night. Sounds of violence echoed — grunts, crashes, the sickening thud of bodies hitting pavement. One thug was thrown out the window, landing hard against a nearby building before scrambling to his feet and fleeing into the shadows.
Inside, a transformed Rayven, fierce and unrecognizable, dropped a handful of coins onto the counter. "Keep the change," she said, her voice low and steady. The bartender only saw her hand.
Minutes later, normal Rayven slipped quietly out the door. Her phone buzzed — an unknown number. She answered.
"I have a job for you."
At a nearby firing range, the sharp crack of gunfire filled the air. A figure dominated the line of targets, hitting every one with deadly precision using just a pair of pistols. Whispers floated around.
"I heard she's only on the Mortal level…"
Jayda's face appeared, focused and unyielding. A man approached, scowling. "You need to get out of here so the real gunmen can practice."
Jayda didn't flinch. She fired a shot that whizzed inches past his head, ricocheted off a wall, and slammed into his gun. He yelped and ran off. Then Jayda's phone rang.
Holstering her pistols, Jayda answered her phone. Her father's voice was cold, commanding: "I've hired you a bodyguard. They'll be at your room before you sleep."
Jayda's face twisted with anger. She slammed the phone down, stomped her foot, and screamed into the empty firing range.
Rayven entered an office building with quiet confidence. Mafia members greeted her with nods and curt smiles — a network of respect earned from past successful jobs. The front desk directed her to the top floor.
Fifteen minutes later, she sat across from Jayda's father in his office. "So, you'll take the offer?" he asked.
Rayven nodded. "Yes, sir."
She signed the contract without hesitation.
Outside Jayda's bedroom door, Rayven knocked.
"One second!" came the reply.
Jayda opened the door, her expression sour. "Oh. You must be the bodyguard Dad hired. I can handle myself."
Rayven stepped in smoothly. "If you could, I wouldn't be here."
The suite was massive: a canopy bed, walk-in closet, bathroom, and a balcony with a sweeping view. Rayven settled on a couch, remote in hand — telekinetically summoned with a channeling of mana — and switched on the TV.
Jayda's face burned red. "You can't do that! Get out!"
Rayven smiled faintly. "I live here now, by contract. Your father's orders. Safety first, even if it means sacrificing some privacy."
Jayda snapped, "Get out!" and lunged, trying to grapple Rayven out.
But Rayven was ready. She moved with Jayda's momentum, stopping the toss effortlessly. A stunned pause.
Jayda threw a punch. Rayven blocked it.
Another punch. Rayven caught her fist.
"I know you think you're hot shit," Rayven said softly, "but there are people way beyond your level."
Jayda's attacks came faster, but Rayven dodged and blocked with ease. In slow motion, Jayda's strikes looked like futile sparks against a calm storm.
Shame, Rayven thought. If she weren't so stubborn, she might actually be strong enough to fight me. But she already thinks she's at the top—and that's her limit.
Rayven raised her hands, stepping back. "Look, your dad paid me. I'm your bodyguard, tantrums or not."
Jayda crossed her arms. "Fine. But I don't have to like it."
"Suit yourself. I'm just here for the money."
Rayven returned to the couch and sat down.
Later, outside the suite, Jayda tried to sneak out.
Rayven caught her at the door. "And what do you think you're doing?"
"Going out."
"Not without me."
Jayda grumbled but relented.
At a nightclub, Jayda relaxed, ordering wine and letting the music lift her mood. A man with a tray of white powder in plastic bags approached.
"Care for some?"
Rayven appeared, slapping a rune on the tray. The drugs exploded.
"Glare Rebound," Rayven said. "A nasty mix. You hear everyone's thoughts while you slowly turn to stone. I took it once. Took months to recover."
Jayda was silent, embarrassed but grateful.
Rayven smirked. "Hey, I'm your bodyguard. Just doing my job."
Jayda huffed and walked away, spitting disdainfully on the knocked-out man.
Later, Rayven sipped a carefully checked drink, watching Jayda dance with a random girl — casual, nothing serious, but clear enough for anyone paying attention.
A large man slid onto the stool beside Rayven, radiating bad intentions. She tried to brush him off, but he grew insistent and touchy. Rayven grimaced — not again.
Just then, Jayda appeared, grabbing the man's shoulder firmly.
"Hey! She's not interested, meathead! Can you get that through your thick skull?"
Before long, the two were fighting. Jayda, though smaller, quickly subdued the big man, showing surprising restraint — only a few bruises and black eyes.
After the fight, Rayven pulled Jayda aside. "Not bad, kid. Didn't really need the help, but I appreciate it."
Jayda admitted, "Guess I owe you one. Maybe I need someone with better street smarts."
Rayven chuckled. "You're strong for someone on the Mortal-level, but you've got a lot to learn."
Back at Jayda's home, her father greeted them.
"Tomorrow's the company gathering. Be there at eight sharp."
Dismissed to Jayda's room, Rayven shed her jacket and lay on the couch, quickly falling asleep.
Jayda emerged from the bathroom, smiled softly at Rayven's sleeping form, and slipped into bed.
The next day, at the gathering, Rayven kept a vigilant watch over Jayda, mingling while scanning for threats.
Suddenly, a group of thugs and a bulky robot burst inside.
Jayda drew her pistols, but was quickly overwhelmed by a thug on the Cherub level.
Then, a gunshot.
A flash of blue energy hit Jayda's father's chest. He collapsed.
Jayda screamed.
She checked his pulse — no sign of life.
The door burst open. A man in a dark trench coat stepped in, pistol raised, mana swirling around the gun. He fires at Jayda.
Rayven's speed rune flared. She dashed forward, catching the bullet with her bare hand.
She dropped her scarf, drew her dagger, and slashed her palm.
"You will not hurt her. Runic Signature! Seven Deadly Sins: Vengeful Deliverance!"
Blood smeared on the rune at her neck, and she transformed — towering ten feet tall, red-skinned, with a goat's head and glowing eyes.
"We are Satan, the Sin of Wrath! And you will not harm our charge!"
She charged the man, but the robot intervened — a single punch shattered it, revealing a short man in a blacksmith's apron.
"Forge? What are you doing here?"
" I hate… mind control…" Forge mutters, the mind controlling device's effects wearing off after it was destroyed by the punch.
Satan ignored him and turned back to the shooter. They exchanged blows, but Satan overwhelmed him, forcing the man to flee.
Rayven reverted, collapsing.
Forge caught her, setting her gently on a table before smashing the remaining thugs with his hammer.
Jayda knelt by her father's body, tears streaming.
Hours later, Rayven awoke. Forge was cleaning up. Jayda sat outside on the patio, legs dangling over the mountainside.
Rayven joined her quietly.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Jayda said nothing.
"I know how it feels. My dad's dead too."
Far below, the city erupted in flames.