At the dead of night, the shadows veiled by the light swallow up the day and the time for hunting sets in.
Most successful assassination take place during the night, especially in this world. The dark, cruel night, where nothing aside from the illustrious moonlight is present to illuminate a clear path for humankind.
A perfect moment for those who revel in such darkness, to strike.
8:53 PM
A man walked outside a building and held up an umbrella, spreading it open, before walking down the streets at the dead of night.
Stanislavsky, Novosibirsk, Russia.
That was the location of terror.
Brought to you by the Great Crimson House of Algea.
Water poured down from the sky, enveloping the entire city. The moon was not there that day. The people walked on the streets with their umbrella's drawn out to shield themselves from the rain.
Within this same district, a lone man was walking silently on the road. He was very tall and had very broad shoulders. The dark brown hair he possessed was slicked back, a few strands sticking from the side of his head and top of his forehead. His brown hair was also streaked with white strands as well, indicating his aging.
His skin was fair, his grey eyes were burning in the dark. As each vehicle passed by and the light shines on his stoic face, his eyes gleamed, showing off its reflective horror in the dark, black night, glowing menacingly along the line of the intricate, thin scar on his left eye.
His jaw was chiseled and decorated by a well trimmed beard, his palms were broad and he held a spread open umbrella. The man wore an expensive business suit and dark pants to go along with it. Walking slowly in the dark, his posture was straight and tall. He had an unlit cigar in his mouth, which he moved around playfully.
With his free hand, he picked up a lighter and flipped it open, slowly bringing it up to his cigar to light it. Once the cigar was lit, he put the lighter back in his pockets and raised his hand to check his watch.
The time was 8:59.
Less then twenty seconds till 9:00.
Seeing this, the man closed his eyes and relaxed. He removed the cigar from his mouth and letting out a bunch of smoke and air. A gruff voice rumbled out of his throat as he continued to walk away slowly but surely, leaving the citizens completely unaware of what was going to happen.
00:13
A couple hundred metres away, a lone building was present. The same building this man walked out of. It took the man seven minutes to walk away from this building and he was currently 1760 metres towards the east of that building, slightly diverging away to the north.
One step...
Two steps...
Three steps...
00:09
The man let out another breath, inhaling the cold air that enveloped him in this rainy, moonless night.
He pulled out a phone to contact someone, immediately pressing a contact named "Yelizaveta".
00:07
The building that he walked out of, inside it, at the top floor, there was a party. A bunch of rich folk throwing a party and joyously laughing and drinking, dancing, singing, etc. They hired strippers and DJ's. Had a bunch of women ready for the after party event.
They were all oblivious to the danger that awaited them.
Yelizaveta answered the phone.
"Yes ?"
00:03
00:02
00:01
"Mission accomplished."
He cut the call immediately and put the phone back in his pocket.
00:00
*BEEP!*
Within the building, in its garrage, the guest rooms, and even the party room, loud beeps rung through the closed corridors. This was followed by a flashing light that blinded everyone, followed by a loud bang!
The light turned into a sea of burning flames, the glass windows shattered and the concrete walls broke apart. Pillars cracked and ceilings fell. Large amounts of fire and smoke burst out of the building, revealing itself as a large, loud explosion.
The explosion startled all the people on the streets, who either fell over, stopped moving, stared at the building or just screamed. Immediately, people called the polic and the ambulance upon realising what had happened.
A bomb exploded.
In this case, multiple of them.
When these bombs exploded, the rain just stopped. Slowing down severely until it stopped pouring, almost as if fate supported the man that did this. Now the fire wouldn't be put out.
People screamed and ran away as the now burning building began to crumble and fall apart, the foundations having been destroyed by the explosives in the garrage. To avoid getting crushed by the falling debris, the people had to scatter and run.
As for the people inside the building... That doesn't matter.
All of them died.
No survivors.
And at the end, nobody managed to find the culprit.
But while those people were screaming and dying, the adult responsible for all of this simply waited at the crossroad. He noticed the explosion from his location, but never paid any mind to it. He simply waited as a car pulled up next to him.
It was a Bentley Mulsanne, clad in black and silver.
Not bothering to wait, he entered the car and shut the door beside him. He then let out another breath of the cigar from earlier, before holding it between his fingers.
"Really ? Really, Mr. Amvrosiy ? In the car ?" The girl, who was seated in the driver's seat, asked him. Her expression was filled with both annoyance and amusement.
"You're used to this already, Liza. Must you question me every time ?" He said out of amusement, making Liza roll her eyes.
"Let's return home. I'm curious to see their progress." His eyes held a dark yet excited glint in them as he said this, making Liza smile.
"Of course, boss."
***
The man that just did this, was none other than Vyacheslav Vladimirovich Amvrosiy, himself.
The man. The myth. The legend.
The owner, boss and director of the main branch of the Crimson Houses and Commander of the Sverkhnovaya's — Supernovas.
Vyacheslav was a middle aged man who lived for 48 years this far. He recently trimmed his beard after it got too long, and he likes the new look. The man himself was a giant.
He towered over most people at 6'5ft/196cm and weighed a whopping 111kg. And he wasn't fat or anything. This man was built like a truck. His was tall, heavy, muscular and still very fit. And yet, despite his size and weight, he was still quite fast.
As if he wasn't intimidating enough just for standing near hi, but his reputation precedes him even further.
The man was feared in the underworld and even by politicians and other rich folk. Even though the Crimson Houses were considered a Secret Society, it was still public enough to gain recognition.
Only the rich and powerful are aware of the existence of this mighty organisation and they intend to keep it that way. Using government power to shut up anyone that tries to go against them. To anyone outside the upper echelons of people, if they ever learn about the Crimson Houses; they'd assume they were just another mafia group.
Within their reach, they are considered a top secret society whose primary concern is public safety and crime management; much like their the DA of Japan. However, the Supernovas indulge in far more... Illegal activities as compared to the DA.
And of course, they are considered criminals in other nations.
Why ?
Because they're trespassing.
These guys are legally allowed to kill inside Russia due to government connections and assigned duties, but that power doesn't exist outside the country. Hence, all their actions are technically illegal in foreign countries, making them no different than large mafia groups.
The man incharge of this place, Vyacheslav Vladimirovich Amvrosiy, he was hailed by the underworld as "Baba Yaga".
But his real codename within the organisation, was "B-000" or "Zero".
Nobody knows his real name. Even he doesn't remember it.
He was unkillable, untouchable, unpredictable.
No one in the world can track them down, because how can you track down a group of people that don't even exist ?
There are no records.
No official birth certificates.
No names.
No fingerprints.
No DNA identification.
Nothing.
Every member has dozens of different aliases and names, yet none of them have a real name. Every passport, identification card, etc; that they possess are all fake.
There is no real them.
For there is no them.
And that is exactly why, they are so feared.
***
Upon entering a remote location, surrounded by wilderness and isolated from the world, the Crimson House came into view. This prompted Liza to stop the car and park it in safely.
They had borrowed that Bentley Mulsanne from a Supernova that lived near Novosibirsk.
They then flew back to this place.
After all, the Polaris Foster Home, also known as the First Crimson House, is simple one of the many training centres for the many generations.
This was the first house and the main one. This was the one that started it all.
The two veterans got out of the car and walked towards the gates.
Liza was a young 24 year old woman who fully completed her Training Curriculum seven years prior to this. A member of the Second Generation, her codename was B-1534.
Her "real" name was Yelizaveta Evgrafevna Glikeriya.
She was a decently tall woman, who stood up to Vyacheslav's shoulders. He had short, neck length white hair and reflective, piercing golden eyes with light, almost slit-like pupils, which was very unbecoming of a normal human. Her hair covered her ears and the sides of her forehead, a few long strands dangling near her face. Her expression was stoic but fierce.
Her choice of clothes weren't as formal as her boss's, only choosing to wear a white collared, short sleeved shirt with casual pants. She showed off her collar bone in this outfit, her skin was fair but not as fair as Vyacheslav's.
They walked into the campus.
In the training ground, the children were sparring and fighting, practicing combat skills while others trained in the sidelines. Every classroom was filled with students, being taught lessons, demonstrations, practical classes, etc. From the torture chambers, they could beat nothing but silence as they were made to be completely soundproof.
They then reached a specific classroom, watching from the glass as a bunch of young students were practicing, all of them of aged three to four.
They both stopped to stare.
Yelizaveta's expression immediately turned softer after she so two specific children. A boy and a girl.
The two were practicing martial arts. Specifically, Muay Thai.
Yelizaveta gushed over the two, prompting Vyacheslav to also take on a fond expression.
"Your children right ? Nicholai Vladimirovich Amvrosiy and Svetlana Evgrafevna Glikeriya." Vyacheslav asked, also forming a fond smile.
"Why do you refer to them like that, you fool. They're your grandkids."
Yelizaveta adopted her mother's name, Evgrafevna. After Yelizaveta became pregnant and had twins, she changed her last name to Glikeriya, to match her husband.
Her daughter inherited this name as well, but her son inherited the name of her father, Vyacheslav Vladimirovich Amvrosiy.
Svetlana, the older twin, was a girl with the same white hair as her mother and her father's dark eyes.
The younger twin, Nicholai, inherited his father's black hair, but the most striking part of him were his eyes. His eyes were a brilliant gold, shining and glowing in a complete unnatural and inhumane way. Anyone that states at those eyes would be distracted and taken aback by those supernatural eyes.
A sea of darkness, spreading throughout a striking golden space, leaving the world to see the most mesmerizing and eye-catching eyes to ever be seen.