The city woke to chaos. News channels blared footage of the Ribbon Reaper's latest operation—multiple criminals caught, their crimes exposed, and ribbons tied meticulously around their wrists. Citizens were simultaneously horrified and awed.
Arata stood in the precinct, staring at the screens in disbelief. "This… this was coordinated… perfectly. How does one person—" His words faltered. Every detail matched his investigations. Every target had been flagged weeks ago.
"It's like they knew exactly what we knew," Officer Raghav muttered. "Like… someone is inside our system."
Arata's jaw tightened. A cold suspicion crawled up his spine. Impossible… yet undeniable.
Elsewhere, Lucian sat in the dark of his apartment, rain tapping against the window. His hair fell over his eyes as he buried his face in his hands.
Kane's voice still echoed in his mind: "Control is an illusion. You can't stop me."
Lucian's playful grin had long since vanished. His heartbeat was erratic. Even his usual jokes at the bar, the flirty comments, the carefree laughter—they all felt hollow now.
Sera had confronted him again, concern etched on her face. "Lucian… you're not okay. Something's happening to you."
He forced a laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine… really. Just tired, that's all."
She didn't believe him. And deep down, neither did he.
On the streets, whispers of the Ribbon Reaper spread like wildfire. Some called him a god of justice, delivering punishment where the law failed. Others feared him, avoiding dark alleys, hesitating before crime.
Lucian watched from a rooftop, rain-soaked and trembling. Kane had left a trail tonight—not just of dead criminals, but of fear, awe, and obsession.
The line between right and wrong blurred. And in that blur, Lucian realized something terrifying: the people who once adored him might soon fear him too.
At the precinct, Arata studied the timeline of events. His instincts screamed that the Ribbon Reaper was no ordinary criminal. Too precise. Too informed. Too careful.
Someone… is always two steps ahead, he thought.
He didn't know it yet, but the Reaper had inside knowledge of his work, and soon, that thread would tighten dangerously close.
Alone, Lucian whispered into the darkness, voice trembling: "I… I can't keep holding it together…"
The playful, childish side wanted to escape, to laugh, to flirt, to forget. Kane wanted control, precision, judgment. Arata demanded discipline and morality.
The fractures in his mind deepened. And the city, the victims, and Sera—everyone—would soon feel the consequences.