Darius Kane hated Tuesdays.
He was standing in his office on the forty-seventh floor of the Iron Vanguard headquarters, staring out at Chicago's skyline, when his phone buzzed.
The caller ID read: Hunter Association - Emergency Line
That was never a good sign.
"Kane speaking."
"Mr. Kane, this is Officer Reeves from the HA. We have a... situation involving one of your hunters."
Darius straightened, his reflection staring back at him in the window, blue hair slicked back, sharp suit, thirty-two years old and already managing one of the city's mid-tier guilds. He had worked too damn hard to let some idiot hunter ruin his reputation.
"Which one?"
"Ren Ashford. F-rank."
Darius frowned. "Ashford? What'd he do, trip over his own feet again?"
There was a pause. "Sir, he's the only survivor of the Code Red gate break this afternoon. Fifteen hunters dead. But he... he killed something. Alone."
The words didn't make sense. Darius turned away from the window. "What?"
"A monster came through after the gate closed. Witnesses say it was massive. Then it transformed into a humanoid. Ashford killed it. We have the body, and it's unlike anything we've seen before."
"You're telling me," Darius said slowly, "that an F-rank, my F-rank who can barely hold a dagger, killed something that wiped out fifteen hunters including a B-rank team leader?"
"That's what the evidence suggests, sir. We need you to come to HQ immediately. Crimson Eclipse Guild sent their S-rank to oversee the investigation. This is... big."
Darius hung up and grabbed his coat.
~
The elevator ride down felt longer than usual, and his mind raced.
Ren Ashford. Quiet kid. Barely spoke during missions. Always got relegated to supply duty because he was mostly useless in combat. No family that Darius knew of. Just another nobody trying to survive in a world that chewed up F-ranks and spat them out.
How the hell did he kill anything alone?
The doors opened on the basement level. Hunter Association interrogation rooms. Rooms that were designed to make you uncomfortable.
Officer Reeves met him at the entrance. "He's in Room 3. Fair warning, Mr. Kane, he's... different."
"Different how?"
"You'll see."
Darius pushed open the door. The room was small. It had gray walls, a metal table, and two chairs.
Ren sat in one of them, staring at nothing. His clothes were torn and bloodstained. Dark patterns traced along his visible skin, and when Darius squinted his eyes, he saw that they were veins that looked almost purple in the fluorescent light. His hands rested on the table, completely still.
Behind him stood a mountain of a man. Six-foot-five, built like a tank, wearing the crimson-and-black insignia of Crimson Eclipse Guild, one of the top three guilds in North America.
Salvatore Holt. S-rank.
Darius had seen him on TV a few times. He was a national-level threat, the kind of hunter who could level a building if he felt like it. And he was watching Ren like a hawk.
"Ashford," Darius said.
Ren didn't respond. His eyes were distant, unfocused. Like he wasn't even in the room.
"Ashford!"
Ren blinked, his head turning slowly toward Darius. "Oh. Hello, Mr. Kane." His voice was strangely flat.
Darius pulled out the other chair and sat down. "What happened out there?"
"You're not going to believe me if I tell you."
Darius leaned back, crossing his arms. "Try me."
Ren's lips twitched into something that might have been a smile. "I died. Then I came back. And now there's something inside me."
"Is this a fucking game to you, Ashford?" Darius snapped. "Fifteen people are dead. You're the only one who walked away. And you're sitting here making jokes?"
"It's not a joke," Ren said quietly. "But I knew you wouldn't believe me."
Salvatore grunted, and without warning, wrapped his hand around Ren's throat, slamming him down onto the metal table with enough force to dent it.
"Talk," Salvatore growled. "Or I'll make you—"
Ren's hand shot up. He grabbed Salvatore's wrist and twisted.
The S-rank's eyes went wide as he was flipped over Ren's shoulder and slammed into the floor, the impact cracking the concrete. The impact cracked the concrete.
"What the fuck?" Darius whispered as he stared, his brain refusing to process what he had just seen. An F-rank. Just threw an S-rank. Like it was nothing.
Salvatore groaned, pushing himself up. His face was red with rage and... something else. Shock. Ren was already sitting back in his chair, hands on the table again. Like nothing had happened.
"What the fuck are you?" Salvatore snarled.
Ren sighed. "I think... I bonded with a monster. A humanoid one. It gave me powers."
"You think?" Darius said, finding his voice. "You don't know?"
"I hear voices now, or one mostly," Ren continued, still staring at nothing. "In my head. It's telling me things. About gates. About the truth. About—"
"Bullshit," Salvatore spat, getting to his feet. "You're lying. There's no way a fucking F-rank—"
"I'm not lying." At his words, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Ren's eyes finally focused, and locked onto Salvatore. For just a second, Darius saw something purple flicker in them.
Salvatore saw it too, and his hand automatically went to his sword. "You want to test that theory? Let's go. You and me. Right now."
"Salvatore—" Darius started.
"Stay out of this, Kane." Salvatore didn't take his eyes off Ren. "This thing just assaulted an S-rank. We need to know what it's capable of. And if he won't cooperate..." He leaned down, getting in Ren's face.
"We'll have no choice but to pin those murders on your head. Fifteen dead hunters. All the evidence points to you being the last one standing. How convenient."
"That's not—" Darius tried again.
"Unless," Salvatore continued, "you prove you're strong enough to have killed that creature. In a sanctioned duel. Right now." Ren stared at him for a long moment. Then he laughed. It was a short, bitter sound.
"I don't want to fight you."
"Too bad."
"I'm serious. I just watched fifteen people die today. I don't—"
"Then I guess you're under arrest for mass murder." Salvatore straightened, hand still on his sword hilt. "Your choice, Ashford. Fight me and prove what you are. Or rot in a cell."
Ren's jaw clenched, the purple patterns on his skin seemingly glowing. "Fine," he said quietly. "Let's get this over with."