The alley was still, save for the hum of distant traffic that felt like it was being filtered by something. The woman and her attacker had hurriedly adjusted their clothes, as if fabric could erase what had nearly happened.
"Done?"
Morvathos asked, his voice low, cutting through the silence.
The man looked up, smugness plastered across his face like a mask.
"Who are you, fucker?"
Ge spat, pulling a gun from his jacket. The weight in his hand made him bold.
Morvathos tilted his head, amused.
"Me? I'm just your friendly neighborhood Reaper."
His eyes flared crimson beneath the hood, glowing with a predator's certainty. He smiled wide,and vanished. In the blink of an eye, he was directly in front of the man.
The would-be rapist stumbled back, his cocky grin shattering into panic.
"…The one who's come to rip your soul."
Morvathos swung his scythe with deceptive ease. The handle smashed down onto the man's ankle. The crunch was thunderous.
*Crack~!!*
Bone and earth split alike, the ground spiderwebbing with cracks.
"ARRRRGHGGGHGGGGGGGGHRHRHRGRGGGG"
The man's scream ripped through the alley, high and piglike, blood spurting in jagged streams.
He collapsed, clutching at his leg, but still clung to the gun. Through sheer adrenaline, he raised it and fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets tore through Morvathos's form as though he were made of smoke. He didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't even blink. Umbral Dissolution hummed around him, his form untethered from mortal physics.
"You done?"
Morvathos asked, pulling back his hood.
The woman gasped, the man froze. The hood fell away to reveal a face too sharp, too calm, with a smile that belonged more to death than life. His eyes burned like coals in an endless pit.
The man shivered as cold terror sank into his bones.
Morvathos crouched down, eye-level with him, smile curling.
"Well, looks like that failed. What now? Call your mommy? Daddy? Want me to make the call for you?"
The man trembled, the gun clattering from his grip. His bravado crumbled into fear.
"Wh–Who are you?"
"I already told you,"
Morvathos tilted his head, scythe humming at his side.
"Just a friendly neighborhood Reaper."
"You're lying!"
The man shouted, frantic, denial spilling out like blood from his mangled ankle.
"Why would a Reaper come for me? My time isn't over yet, I know it isn't! You're breaking the rules!"
Morvathos pressed his boot down onto the man's calf, grinding bone against shattered bone. The scythe yanked free with a wet crack.
The man screamed again, the sound ricocheting off the alley walls. Blood poured fast, too fast, pooling into the cracks like the earth itself wanted to drink it.
His vision swam; fear drenched every nerve. He couldn't fathom what he was seeing, how could bullets pass through, how could pain feel this eternal?
Morvathos leaned closer, grin widening, whispering almost gently:
"Why would I lie to a mongrel like you?"
The man shook, tears streaking through his sweat.
"This isn't… this isn't how it works. Reapers don't choose. They don't torture. They wait… they wait for the right time…"
His voice cracked, trying to rationalize, to cling to any belief that could make this nightmare end.
Morvathos chuckled, low and dark.
"And yet, here I am. Funny how the world works, isn't it? Or maybe I'm just the chosen one?"
The man's sanity frayed, unraveling with every passing second.
Then, desperate, he spat out through bloody lips:
"If you reap me now, you'll regret it. Do you think you're a god? Do you think there's no justice? Do you think the heavens will tolerate it?"
For once, Morvathos paused. The man was delirious, half-dead from blood loss, but his eyes were wild, serious. It was almost… funny. He almost felt like giving this joke an award of the century.
He crouched lower, crimson eyes locking with the man's fading gaze. His voice was a whisper laced with iron:
"You see, it's true that I don't decide when souls leave hell but I do decide when they come to hell."
A grin split his face, teeth flashing.
"...Because I'm God."
Morvathos suddenly clenched his fists and punched forward. Toward the man's face.
The punch landed like judgment itself. Bone shattered, flesh collapsed, the man's head bursting into a crimson storm. Brain, blood, eyes, teeth,all vaporized before they could stain the Reaper's form. His armor shimmered clean, untouched, immaculate.
The twitching corpse stilled as the soul tore free,an orb of light, streaked with black and violet. It hovered for a moment, then was swallowed into the unseen machinery of judgment.
Morvathos watched, Authority Seal letting him glimpse the weighing of sin. He noticed something curious: the torture had reduced the weight. Pain, he realized, chipped away at sin.
"Hooh~, So that's why Hell burns them. Pain is penance."
He considered it, hand at his chin, watching the last traces vanish. Morvathos didn't regret killing the rapist. All rapists must die and face the consequences of their actuon before death.
"Hmm~"
A faint sound pulled his attention,rustling, scraping. He turned.
The blonde woman, still shaking, was struggling to her feet. Her eyes darted between the bloody pavement and the hoodless Reaper.
She tried to speak, to thank him, but no words came. Her body wobbled, her strength collapsing as adrenaline drained away.
Morvathos weighed the possibilities in his mind. Her. The aftermath. The questions.
Not worth it.
But he decided to leave some advise.
"Don't just go around and meet with strangers because it may lead to... this."
Without another word, he vanished,Umbral Desolation carrying him into the night sky, scythe trailing faint mist.
The woman froze, staring at the empty space where he had stood. Her mouth opened, but nothing came. Only silence.
Then, as though some veil had lifted, the sounds of the city returned,the honks, the engines, the life she thought she'd never hear again.
Tears slipped down her face as she sank to the ground, trembling. She hugged herself, eyes wide at the memory of what almost was, and swore, right there and then, never again to trust a charming stranger.