The city never truly slept. Rain slicked streets shimmered under neon lights, reflecting the chaos hidden beneath the surface. Arata sat in the precinct, tracing connections between the Ribbon Reaper's latest victims. The realization gnawed at him: the Reaper's intelligence suggested not just a criminal mind—but someone trained, someone he had seen every day.
It can't be an outsider. It has to be someone I know.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, heart hammering. Could it be… someone I trust? Someone I've worked alongside?
Lucian walked through the crowded streets, playful grin plastered on his face as usual. But the laughter was hollow, forced. Inside, Kane stirred, whispering coldly:
"They're closing in. Tonight, we act."
A group of corrupt businessmen, connected to the city's black-market organ trade, appeared ahead. Lucian froze. Hands moved before thought, gadgets activated, and within moments, the crimson ribbons marked each criminal's sins.
Lucian's inner voice screamed: "No! Not here! People are watching!"
The playful, romantic persona faltered. The cracks were becoming visible—not just to Sera, but to anyone paying attention.
Sera's eyes widened as she watched from the shadows. She had known Lucian as playful, flirty, harmless—but tonight was different. Precision, calculation, an almost mechanical ruthlessness filled his every move.
"Lucian… what's happening to you?" she whispered softly, her voice trembling.
He forced a weak laugh. "I… I'm fine."
But Sera's instincts screamed otherwise. The man she thought she knew was only one piece of a far more dangerous puzzle.
Back at the precinct, Arata pored over files, crime scenes, and surveillance footage. A horrifying possibility emerged: the Ribbon Reaper's timing aligned perfectly with police reports, patrol routes, and investigative leads.
This isn't random… someone is reading our moves… someone inside.
Officer Raghav looked uneasy. "Sir… do you think it's one of us?"
Arata didn't answer. His mind raced, piecing together every anomaly, every suspicious absence, every slip in judgment. His instincts told him the Reaper was closer than anyone suspected—closer than he could bear to consider.
That night, Kane pushed further. Using hacking skills, he intercepted communications, bypassed alarms, and cornered a politician's secretive enforcer involved in trafficking and bribery. The crimson ribbon appeared, marking judgment.
Lucian tried to resist. The playful persona tugged, pleaded, begged. Kane overpowered him effortlessly, a cold, ruthless presence dominating the body.
From the rooftop, Sera gasped. She couldn't intervene, couldn't stop it. All she could do was watch as the deadly, calculating persona enacted justice with terrifying efficiency.
Outside, the city murmured about the Ribbon Reaper—some calling him a god of justice, others fearing a relentless demon. But few understood the truth: one man, three personalities, spinning in a dangerous balance, teetering on the edge of exposure.
Lucian returned to the rooftop, drenched, trembling. Sera approached, voice barely audible:
"You can't hide this… it's destroying you…"
He forced a smile, masking the storm inside. "I… I'm fine."
But deep down, he knew the collision was inevitable. Arata's suspicion, Kane's domination, and the fragile hold of his playful side meant the city, and everyone around him, was closer than ever to chaos.