Chapter 139: It's Just Killing
There were thirteen men in the Circle's Eastern Hub.
Thirteen men trained to fight monsters. Trained to kill in the dark. Trained to make people like Axel disappear.
But when he came through the steel gates, they didn't even have time to scream.
The first man reached for his radio.
Axel snapped his wrist and buried a knife into his neck.
The second tried to run.
Axel tackled him into the wall, crushing his spine before slicing his throat clean.
The others armed themselves, yelling commands, calling for backup, forming a defensive line.
But there was no defending against Axel.
He didn't hesitate. Didn't stop.
Didn't speak.
Not once.
The katana was the only voice he used.
And it spoke in arcs of blood.
It wasn't a battle. It wasn't a fight.
It was slaughter.
Effortless. Cold. Final.
One by one, they fell.
He didn't ask questions.
He didn't pause to interrogate.
He didn't listen when one of them raised his hands and screamed, "Please—I have a family!"
The blade didn't care.
And neither did Axel.
It was just killing.
---
One man—a medic—survived long enough to crawl to a corner, clutching a bleeding stomach.
Axel walked past him, his boots crunching through broken bone and spilled shell casings.
"I know who you are…" the medic wheezed.
"I know what they did to you."
Axel didn't look at him.
"You were… an experiment, weren't you? A failed godchild. A project from before the fall. You're not just angry. You're… broken."
Still, Axel didn't stop.
"You think they did this to you," the medic coughed, "but the truth is—they were trying to contain what you are."
Finally, Axel turned.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just inevitable.
He walked back and stood over the medic.
His eyes were dim. His face unreadable.
The medic looked up, shaking, tears in his eyes. "Please—if there's anything human left in you—"
Axel knelt down slowly.
And whispered.
"There's not."
The dagger ended it.
Quiet.
Clean.
Empty.
---
By the time the Circle's reinforcements arrived, the Eastern Hub was silent.
Still.
Thirteen bodies. Four on fire. Five dismembered. Two unrecognizable.
And in the center of the room—painted in blood, etched into the floor—was a message.
Just three words.
"I Am Coming."
---
Somewhere far away, the true leaders of the Ashen Circle stood around a projection of the massacre.
"The boy who shouldn't have lived."
"Yet here he is."
They all looked at each other.
And the oldest among them finally spoke.
"We killed his mother."
"We killed his brother."
"We killed his home."
"And now we've killed his father."
"He's not going to stop."
Another leaned in. "So what do we do?"
The leader stared at the screen.
A single drop of blood rolled down it, as if the walls themselves bled.
"We don't run," he said.
"We prepare."
The others stared.
"Prepare for what?"
He answered without looking away.
"For extinction."
---
Axel walked alone through the night, a ghost with white hair and red eyes.
Each step brought him closer to something. A final confrontation. An ending.
But he wasn't thinking about that.
He wasn't thinking at all.
Just moving.
Just killing.
Just... ending.
---
They were all here.
The Ashen Circle — what was left of them — had gathered in one final location. A crumbling government facility buried deep in the forest, wrapped in vines, decay, and the blood of the men who came before. The wind whispered through shattered windows. The scent of ash still clung to the world.
And death followed close behind.
For nearly a month, Axel had hunted them.
He never spoke. Never listened. No demands. No questions. No mercy.
Just the silent rhythm of killing.
Day after day, night after night, he moved like a ghost soaked in blood, tearing through outposts and safehouses, leaving nothing but bodies and pools of red behind him. He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. The only thing he tasted was iron.
Michael had died. His father. His enemy. His only family. And with him, whatever pieces were left of Axel vanished.
Now there was just silence. Emptiness. Void.
The facility had been fortified — snipers, sentries, layered barricades of steel and concrete — but it didn't matter. Nothing could stop what was coming. They thought they were prepared. They weren't.
He came through the trees in the early morning, white-haired, red-eyed, his katana in hand. Smoke drifted off his clothes, the ashes of Redhold still clinging to him like a shroud.
The first line of guards didn't see him until they were already falling. His blade moved without hesitation, clean and ruthless. No theatrics. No hesitation. Just death.
A second wave tried to intercept. Axel ran through them like water through cracks. One man screamed when Axel crushed his jaw with his bare hand. Another tried to crawl away after being stabbed in the spine — Axel stepped on his head and kept walking.
It wasn't war. It wasn't vengeance.
It was extermination.
Inside the compound, the last remnants of The Ashen Circle gathered in panic. Fifteen men. Then ten. Then five.
Blood painted the halls.
The walls trembled with distant thuds and wet gurgles.
By the time Axel reached the inner sanctum, only the leader remained.
He stood in the center of the room — a tall, cloaked figure, face pale with sweat, eyes once smug now wide with horror. Around him, the bodies of his most trusted men lay in mangled heaps.
He had waited for this day. He thought he was ready.
He wasn't.
Axel stepped into the room, katana dripping with blood that wasn't his own. His face was blank. Void of anger. Void of joy. Void of anything.
"No…" the leader whispered, backing away.
"Wait. Listen. Please," he said, voice shaking. "We didn't want it to be this way. We were trying to save the world, to control the chaos, to—"
Axel didn't speak.
He didn't even blink.
The leader dropped to his knees. "You don't have to kill me. I'll leave. I'll disappear. No one has to know. We can fix this. I'll give you anything."
Axel looked at him, not with hate, not with rage — but with nothing at all. A hollow shell of a man who had already buried everything worth saving.
The leader reached up with shaking hands.
"Mercy…" he whispered.
And that was the last word he ever said.
Axel drove the katana through the man's chest with a single, clean strike.
No scream. No fight.
Just silence.
The leader's eyes froze in horror as his breath escaped for the last time. His body slumped forward, sliding off the blade and hitting the ground with a final, soft thud.
Axel stood there for a moment, blood pooling around his boots, the red glow in his eyes fading into something colder — something final.
He didn't say a word.
He turned around.
And walked away.
The Ashen Circle was no more.
---
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