[Lucarious — POV]
Pain carries a smell.
People rarely notice it. Pain has substance—dense, heavy clinging to the atmosphere well beyond the fading of cries. It remained in that deserted square even after Vernon disappeared, embedded in the corroded metal like a spell that wouldn't dissipate.
Lint Saito lay shattered at the heart of it.
His body resembled a chart of pain—dried blood trailing in streams, over his skin fingers shaking, breath shallow and irregular. His spirit flickered, faint yet persistent. The majority of people would have fallen into quiet by this point.
But Lint was not most humans.
I knelt down next to him. Laid my hand on his chest. A gentle green glow emerged unlike Lucifers blaze—mine was more constant old hesitant. Bones mended with a lingering throb. Shredded flesh sealed gradually forming marks that would never fully disappear. His breathing evened out. Color came back, to his face in slow hesitant waves.
He took a breath—and his eyes snapped wide open.
For an instant he gazed at me perplexedly.
Then fury ignited amidst the suffering.
"You… " he croaked, struggling to sit up despite his body's resistance. "You transferred your power to him."
Initially I remained silent.
People frequently interpret silence as a sign of guilt. Occasionally it is,. Other times it signifies self-control.
"You amazed me " I admitted at last. "You withstood what would have shattered armies. You declined when death pleaded for you to give up."
His fists tightened.
". Still " he sneered, "you granted authority to a fiend."
"Yes " I answered quietly. "Since rules restrict us more, than shackles.. Because certain calamities need to be permitted to proceed… so others can emerge to halt them."
He averted his gaze jaw clenched, fury simmering beneath fatigue. I sensed it distinctly—his animosity was directed beyond Vernon.
It was for me.
Before he had a chance to speak more a slow clap resonated throughout the plaza.
Vernon positioned himself by the doorway flicking dust off his jacket as though he had just left a gathering. His eyes sparkled—not with victory, nor insanity—but, with eagerness.
"Catch you later Lint Saito " he said casually.
Then the atmosphere compressed.
No noise. No brightness. He just stopped being.
Lint lunged ahead reflexively stumbling into the spot where Vernon had been.
"Wait—!"
Too late.
He received no reply but silence.
He remained still for a moments panting heavily gazing into emptiness as though fury, by itself could rip apart existence and pull Vernon back.
It couldn't.
He chuckled harshly dragging a trembling hand through his hair stuck with blood.
" dangers " he murmured. "Constantly fresh dangers."
As he, at last went outdoors the sky welcomed him with ordinariness.
Morning.
Sunshine streamed over concrete and shattered glass unconcerned with the events that had taken place hours before. Birds called from, off rooftops. Existence went on—unaware indifferent.
Lint covered his face using a ripped piece of cloth. Signaled a taxi with slow wary gestures. The driver made no remarks, about the blood marks or Lint's deliberate evasion of the mirror.
"Beika Town," Lint murmured softly. "That's where my office is."
The vehicle moved ahead—. Then came to a halt.
The line of vehicles extended forward.
The streets became crowded, with people.
Chanting.
Shouting.
Not in fear.
In devotion.
"AKIRA!"
"AKIRA!"
"ALLOW AKIRA TO CARRY OUT HIS TASK!"
The noise caused something to turn within me.
People applauding verdicts. Pleading for blood provided it wasn't their own.
At that moment I sensed him.
A ripple in reality—sharp, deliberate.
Akira materialized next to a sedan stuck in traffic. His cape was flapping in air . An immense sword on his back and crimson mask on face. He's existence had his alone definition.
We angels could see everyone sins even from far distance. I could see he was Ra*ist of many innocent girls even he didn't left his own daughter.
The driver was already perspiring, his eyes wide, with fear as Akira swung the door open and yanked him out with ease. He knew that he was going to punished on his sins.
Akira drew near speaking in a tone faint, for human detection—but I caught it.
"Oh " he murmured, "you notice them now don't you? Your transgressions. Each night. Every falsehood. Every offense you carried out quietly…,even towards your own kin."
The man yelled.
Not in fear—but in madness.
He scratched his scalp repeatedly banging his skull against the metal crying and pleading.
"Please—kill me—please—"
Akira was using fear spell on him. The spell, that made you shame on your own existence . I knew Akira is using Lucifers power.
Akira unsheathed his blade.
One clean motion.
The man's headless body dropped on road . Blood slashes everywhere , making everything around it, lubricate with it's red stains.
Scarlet burst over the street like a revealed secret.
Lint was already out of the taxi.
Weapon lifted. Palms shaking.
"Quit it!" he yelled. "Please… cut it out Akira."
Akira spun around.
For a moment, there was recognition.
Then certainty.
"This represents justice " Akira stated evenly. "I embody justice."
Then he disappeared.
The audience erupted with cheers.
Lint dropped the firearm.
On this occasion… he refrained from pursuing.
With sirens blaring away he let out a weak—melancholic—smile and softly whispered to himself:
"Nothing is different. You were always the one defeated in hide and seek during our childhood."
He let out a breath.
"I will track you down Aki."
And for the first time in a very long while—
I wondered which of them I was truly afraid of.