An ant trail stretched along.
Across the path.
A small red line.
Lined with green.
Leaves.
They carried them.
Bore them over uneven ground.
Tripped along eagerly.
A shadow lowered.
Cast itself over them.
Like a nightmare.
And grew.
And grew.
Then they were crushed.
A shoe pressed down on them.
Crushed countless ones.
Diligent workers fell victim to it.
Perished.
And Uhra laughed.
"Poor poor ants,"
he muttered.
And stomped further along the path.
With a spring in his step.
A broad grin.
And the wide sunglasses.
Sliding back and forth on his nose.
Thus he turned the corner.
The large family house came into view.
The current quarters of the mission.
In front of it someone waited.
A dark coat.
Pants almost too big.
A shirt covered with cracks.
Messy hair.
"Ruigh, couldn't wait for my arrival I see,"
called Uhra.
A wide grin on his face.
Ruigh exhaled audibly.
"In your dreams,"
he growled.
"Oh come on, what other reason would you have to hang around out here?"
He raised his lids.
"Wait—were you trying to play normal?"
Ruigh's mouth twitched mockingly.
"No, I'm playing killer who needs fresh air."
He crossed his arms.
Uhra laughed loudly.
His grin widened.
"And apparently homeless too, I see."
He eyed Ruigh's clothes.
"Never seen those on you. What are you doing with that trash?"
Ruigh looked down at himself.
And back up.
At Uhra.
A thin grin split his lips.
"That's your trash. My clothes are in the wash. I took these from your closet."
Uhra paused.
Studied Ruigh.
Then chuckled.
"Well, suits you."
He walked past him.
"And now come on, boy."
He grinned.
"There's much to report."
He shoved it open.
The door.
And stepped into the house.
Ruigh followed.
Sighing.
Inside there was sparse lighting.
It came from a lamp.
Standing on a dresser.
Its light.
Weak, almost dark.
Brushed over walls and floor.
Cast Uhra's shadow.
Who now took his glasses.
From his nose.
And tossed them onto the dresser.
Beside the source of light.
The lamp.
He stepped further.
Swirled up clothes.
Those scattered all over the floor here.
Up.
And kept heading straight on.
Toward the common room.
Ruigh only shook his head.
Pulled the coat tighter around him.
Stepped over dirty clothes.
And followed Uhra.
Uhra shoved it open.
The door.
To the common room.
The hinges creaked.
It swung wide.
Revealing the view.
Many chairs.
A table.
A couch with a TV.
Armchairs.
And many monitors.
A few killers were there.
They sat.
On the chairs around the table.
And played cards.
Their heads turned.
To the door.
As Uhra stormed in.
Arms spread wide.
And demanding.
"Cards away, eyes on me, there's a meeting."
Followed by Ruigh.
Who slipped past him.
Avoiding the killers' stares.
And settled in a corner.
Uhra threw himself into an armchair.
With a crooked grin.
Legs crossed casually.
He stared at the killers, waiting.
One of the killers shrugged.
"Alright, let's clean up."
Another one.
With glasses and a stern look.
Studied Uhra and shook his head.
"No, we finish this round,"
he said.
The killers in the room stared at him.
Disbelieving.
The air seemed to thicken.
The one with glasses.
And the stern look.
Fixed his gaze on Uhra.
"That's right, Uhra. You don't get to order us."
Uhra raised one eyelid.
A mocking grin on his lips.
The shimmer of a predator in his eyes.
"Oh, I can't?"
He tilted his head.
Scratched himself as if he had to think.
"Then why have I been doing it all this time?"
A chuckle.
Quiet.
But full of scorn.
Escaped his lips.
The stern-looking one exhaled.
His eyes narrowed.
Shoulders tense.
"I'm a Special Killer too."
Uhra clapped.
A wide smile on his lips.
"Yay, he's a Special Killer! Did you all hear that?"
He kept clapping.
Accompanied by his booming laughter.
It made the air vibrate.
And the walls and floor tremble.
The killers glanced at each other.
Some shrank back.
Fear in their eyes.
Ruigh watched Uhra.
Yawned, bored.
And kept watching.
Uhra ran a finger.
Casually. Provocatively. Slowly.
Across his face.
Wiping away an imaginary tear.
"Rio," he said, playfully thoughtful, "you might be right. But sadly, that changes nothing."
He leaned forward in the armchair.
Conspiratorial wink.
He whispered.
"I just came from a meeting."
He fixed his gaze on Rio.
The bespectacled killer.
"With Shimura, you must know."
Rio paled.
A murmur went through the room.
Laced with whispers.
"Shimura."
"Really, the Shimura?"
"Incredible."
A thin grin formed.
On Ruigh's lips.
Uhra ignored the whispers.
He only stared at Rio.
Who was trembling now.
"I'll clean up," he whispered.
It was barely audible.
He turned away.
Stepped toward the table.
The floorboards creaked.
And he began, as if in a trance,
to gather up the cards.
Uhra chuckled in satisfaction.
"Good. And now someone go fetch the rest of you."
The common room.
It filled.
Piece by piece.
The chairs were taken.
Turned.
Until all killers were present.
All turned to Uhra.
Who sat relaxed in his armchair.
And in turn fixed his gaze on each one equally.
A grin on his lips.
"Good now that everyone is here" let us begin" he grinned as he said it and looked around
"We are sadly sadly only 14 left" he nodded casually putting on an exaggerated sad expression "And yet there is hope because not only now does Shimura of the Four Apocalyptic Riders have the supreme command over our mission"
The room was completely silent.
The killers looked at each other reverently.
Ruigh leaned casually against the wall.
At the mention of Shimura he looked to Uhra with interest.
"So that's how it is" he murmured, not audible.
Uhra went on talking
"We also work hard to fulfill our task"
He paused
"Which isn't working out very well but whatever"
A killer.
Who had processed the shock about Shimura.
Raised his hand.
And asked
"And what is our next procedure"
Uhra crossed his arms.
Wearing a slight smile.
"We will then stay one team shall in the next days return to Karuka City and search all around the exploded enemy base for traces"
Another killer groaned.
"We must finally find out who our enemy is we've been groping in the dark too long"
Another killer.
Tall and strongly built.
Raised his head.
"If only Aren were here he would lead us well he is not for nothing the right hand of the leader"
Ruigh straightened.
And froze.
Uhra rolled his eyes with feigned frustration
"Oh come on I'm way better"
He got no further.
A loud clink cut through the air.
All heads turned.
To Ruigh.
Who stood there trembling.
The glass.
From which he had just wanted to drink.
Had slipped from his sweaty hand.
And shattered on the floor.
The water formed a puddle.
At his feet.
Ruigh's breathing had quickened.
He couldn't get air.
His head pounded.
And the immeasurable darkness there.
In his memories.
Exploded.
His thoughts swirled around.
Roared at him.
Aren. Explosion. Fire. Pain.
Everything mixed.
Clear and unclear.
They fused into one.
Into a mass.
Into chaos.
He fell.
But Uhra was there Uhra was there.
Caught him.
And supported him.
After only a few seconds.
He put an arm around his shoulder.
Held him while laughing said.
"Oh no it seems someone here didn't get enough sleep I'll take you away"
Softly to Ruigh he whispered.
"Don't worry it will be over soon"
He pulled him.
Grinning and laughing.
But with a heavy look.
Out.
And the door slammed shut.
Outside Ruigh clung.
Trembling and gasping.
To Uhra.
After a few minutes he calmed down.
And looked up.
His gaze dull.
"It's fine again"
Uhra smiled.
It was thin and concerned.
"Then that's good"
He tilted his head "do you know what that was"
Ruigh shrugged
"No idea it's blurry but it has something to do with the explosion"
Uhra looked at him.
His gaze examining.
Then he grinned wide.
"The best thing against headache"
He looked at Ruigh conspiratorially.
"Is training"