[Inside the Layer]
An immense room made of suspended platforms and rotating rings of data. Floating sigils pulse around a gigantic stickman figure—The Overseer, seated in lotus position. A shimmering golden mark glows in the center of his forehead, like an all-seeing eye. The air hums with compressed power.
The Fallen One steps forward and bows low, arms at his side, head down.
Fallen One:
"Overseer. I've come to do my weekly report."
The Overseer's voice is deep and resonant, like stone vibrating through oceans.
Overseer:
"Proceed, Fallen One of Track-Delta-Zero."
Fallen One (unusually casual, almost guilty):
"This week… I did almost nothing.
Which, frankly, shocked me too."
(pauses)
"Normally, I'd be slaying a thousand petty warlords, busting up corruption webs, and raking in guild funds for the dojo I promised myself I'd build."
(shrugs slightly)
"But instead… I've been watching a girl run a hot dog stand, talk to her plants, and cut her own hair. And I…
…I decided to join a dojo instead of building one."
Overseer's eyes remain closed. But the golden mark flashes once.
Overseer:
"Orub City is an outlier. Their system is soft. Their criminals are hidden behind suits and etiquette.
Their strength… lies not in battles, but in being watched.
You must have faith, Fallen One.
There is a dojo somewhere there.
Once you believe that—return to me in a month."
(the air pulses)
"You are promoted to Monthly Reports."
Fallen One (visibly relieved, yet thoughtful):
"Understood… Overseer."
(bows again)
"I'll stay low. Let her circle keep watching me. If something's hiding in Orub, I'll find it."
Overseer (softly, as if warning):
"Do not forget:
You were sent to observe her…
…but someone else paid for that order."
The Fallen One pauses at the door, hearing that final reminder.
He grips his sword-turned-orb just a little tighter…
Yes… I know.
But Splint should be investigating them right now."
(his stickman hand twitched slightly, clicking a earpiece on the side of his head)
"If he's right… they might not just be normal city folk poking around Velrise."
(he walks slowly toward the door)
"They could be corrupt land officials. Trying to snatch her farmland and convert it into resorts, commercial towers, maybe even a black-market trade dock."
(a pause as he glances upward)
"They don't want her for who she is. They want her land. That alone makes her a target."
Overseer (cryptic):
"Then let Splint uncover the truth…
But if you let your sword rest too long, Fallen One—"
(his third eye glows once more)
"—you will forget why you carried it."
[Meanwhile — Cut to: A dingy ops room inside an old arcade in Orub City]
Splint — a lean, wiry gray stickman with sharp glass lenses for eyes and ten stick-fingers constantly typing — is surrounded by 12 holographic panels. He's muttering to himself.
Splint:
"Farm zoning documents… fake signatures… elevation contracts rushed within three days of Velrise turning a profit?"
(he zooms in on a photo of three wealthy officials smiling beside a fake charity banner)
"Gotcha. They're laundering. All of it. Land reclaims. False lawsuits. Displacement claims. They even forged a city incident to claim her greenhouse was a fire hazard."
(he taps a button)
"Sending all this to the Fallen One now. She really is the one they're after."
The Fallen One exits the Overseer's realm. As he steps back into the real world, a faint static message from Splint crackles in.
Splint:
"Confirming your theory. Your client — the one who told you to eliminate her — is a land baron name is unknown, but we do know his crew. Big name in real estate, no name in honesty."
Fallen One (quietly):
"I was never hired to kill her.
I was hired to erase the only thing standing in his way." The Fallen one exhaled sharply thinking it wasn't unbelievable and prepared for his new approved mission "getting to the bottom of this..."
Meanwhile, far across the city…
Velrise stares out the window at dusk, holding a small photograph of her grandfather's farm. Her fingers run across the edge — there's a crease, a tear. The sky is peaceful, but her mind is not.
Velrise (whispers):
"There's no way a sword like that belongs to someone who's just 'here for a dojo or whatever.'"
Velrise meets up with an occult in a quiet underground library Ink Vault, a so-called secret information haven guarded witty remarks and only the strangest combinations of passwords, stickmen who speak only in gestures. She gives them the info she knows about the Fallen One.
"He has no name. Only a code written on his sheath: T. F.O. No past. No known dojo ties at least yet. And he shapeshifts his sword into shapes like its water."
The occult members find no match: Velrise decides to quit for now the next time she sees him she'll just call authorities after all she already filed a complaint and sighting of a suspicious looking black stickman resembling him. Later that evening... The Fallen One silently visits Velrise's farm — not to attack, but to watch. He's conflicted.
Velrise doesn't see him yet and he takes this opportunity to sneak in tosses a tiny recorder to her window — it contains Splint's audio proof about the land corruption. until....
he hears it footsteps walking out to the front porch it's her
Velrise:
"Can't sleep either? Or are you debating if my necks worth your paycheck?"
(She's not afraid. Just tired of games.)
Fallen One (calmly):
"No. I'm questioning the real mission."
he says before handing over the recorder and dropping it near her feet "this should suffice enough for an explanation forget this encounter happened between us.... Again." he muttered, before leaving completely — he looked back a bit and saw her holding a phone behind her back she had recorded and probably sent the audio to the local authorities he didnt pay any mind to it as he had only one thing on his mind at the moment "figure out who's behind his original mission and serve justice to them cold...."
MEANWHILE.... [Interior: Overseer's Domain — Connected to the ops room from the old arcade]
Splint (sharply):
"I need a pass. Outta this dump. Temporarily."
Overseer (arms folded, voice like cracking stone):
"This is also your key back. Do not misplace it."
(hands him a card with flickering circuits embedded in its surface)
"And don't take long with whatever idiocy this is."
Splint (smirking as he pockets the card):
"Relax, giant. I'll only be a while… if I don't die."
He spins once — VSSHH! — and vanishes in a shimmer of teal static.
🌫️ [Exterior: Error Island — The Junkyard Continent]
Setting: Rusted machinery hills. Twisted satellite parts form spires. Cold mist crawls like snakes over the terrain.
Splint walks with purpose. Every footstep crunches into metal ash. His breath turns visible in the air.
Splint (muttering):
"Error Island… looks like someone's BIOS had a nightmare."
He reaches a broken hut surrounded by junk coils. Atop the highest pile — like a king on a throne — stands Kage, unmoving, silhouetted in green static.
Splint (to himself):
"Okay. Time for drama."
He pulls out a black-glowing spear etched with angular symbols. Its name pulses across the handle:
DISTORTION
Splint tightens his gloves. Wraps his scarf. A gust of frost slams his back, but he doesn't flinch.
Suddenly, a green interface screen slides over half his face — a tactical HUD. The left lens flickers with energy readings.
Splint (to the Kage):
"Okay, Dark Lord. I've come to neutralize you."
No response. The figure remains still, quiet, inert.
Splint (face dropping, groaning):
"...Goddamn it, Splint.
You're supposed to be like… a cool hero.
Say something loud. Announce yourself. Be intense."
(He waves at the throne sarcastically)
"HELLO? DARK LORD? I'M HERE TO KICK YOUR DATA INTO THE TRASHCAN!"
Still nothing.
He taps the side of his face.
Splint (muttering):
"Either he's dormant… or baiting me. Probably both."
Suddenly, a low electric hum vibrates the air. The junk pile shakes. A sliver of green light splits opens across the Dark Lord's chest.
Camera pans wide.
Kage's internal code is booting up making a warp of pixels of him as if he's digital.
Splint's spear extends fully — now glowing with black and mint light.
Splint (now serious):
"Now that's more like it."