The sun had barely risen, and the city already hummed with life. Cars honked, street vendors shouted, and pedestrians hurried along rain-slicked sidewalks. To the casual observer, it was just another ordinary morning.
Lucian walked down the crowded streets, golden hair glinting in the weak sunlight, a cheerful grin on his face. He greeted passersby, performed playful tricks for children, and charmed shopkeepers with jokes and flattery.
But inside, a storm was brewing.
A subtle twitch in Lucian's fingers. A shadow flickering in his eyes. A whisper in his mind: "They're too close. You can't hide. Take control."
Lucian's grin faltered for a split second, unnoticed by anyone but Sera, who followed discreetly. His golden eyes flickered black, his playful tone slipping into something colder, sharper.
He laughed—a sound that didn't reach his eyes, a laugh that was Kane.
A man emerged from a dark alley—a known thief Arata had flagged but couldn't catch. Kane recognized him instantly. The thrill of judgment surged, overpowering Lucian's childish humor.
"Justice," Kane whispered.
Lucian felt it, felt himself being pushed aside. The mask of the playful lover was cracking.
Sera watched from across the street, heart pounding. She had seen it before—fleeting, brief—but this time, it was more pronounced. Lucian's eyes darkened, his body stiffened, and the way he approached the man was… unnatural, predatory.
She gripped her bag tightly. "Lucian… no," she murmured. Her voice was soft, but her fear was sharp.
The man froze, sensing something was wrong. He attempted to flee—but Kane was faster.
Kane moved with precision, cornering the thief in seconds. Lucian's mind struggled, playful thoughts clashing with the cold, calculating surge of Kane's personality. Fingers moved, tools executed with flawless skill, and a crimson ribbon was tied neatly around the man's wrist, marking his crimes.
The man screamed, the ribbon's symbolism striking terror, as Kane's presence dominated entirely. Lucian, trapped within his own mind, could only watch as the line between personalities blurred further.
At the precinct, Arata was reviewing a string of theft reports. Surveillance cameras had captured a masked figure—too precise, too swift—and he noticed the faint details: a charred hat, the skull mask glinting.
"This… this can't be coincidence," Arata muttered. His eyes narrowed. The Ribbon Reaper was moving faster, smarter, and closer than ever.
He didn't yet realize that the Reaper was literally inhabiting the same body he thought he knew.
Lucian stood alone on the street, heart pounding, chest heaving. The city continued around him, oblivious. His playful mask was shattered. Kane's cold precision still lingered in his mind, and Arata's voice chastising him made him feel guilty even when he tried to suppress it.
Sera approached cautiously, fear and concern in her eyes. "Lucian… tell me what's happening to you," she whispered.
He could only force a weak smile, hiding the truth: the three sides of one man were colliding faster than he could control, and the city, innocent and guilty alike, was caught in the crossfire.