Twenty-four hours.
In the black sky, Riley looked up to see a timer counting down.
A soft smile curving his lips, Riley let out a soft exhale, as he put his hands in his pockets on the cold winter night.
Alrighty. The fight's rapidly approaching. I guess I've just got to make the most of this final day, in the event things don't go according to plan.
—
I don't know why.
I don't know why.
I don't know why, but I can't help myself.
Sitting at the ledge of a building, Riley Woods loomed over the city. Hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes were shined upon by the many lights, of traffic and of stores and of homes.
For some strange reason, he hadn't done anything all day. Even stranger, he cried.
In class, when he thought it over, tears welled up in his eyes. It was strange, so peculiar. He'd faced death many times, many times impromptu, but this was different.
Having a literal countdown to the grand finale—it made it feel overwhelming, and difficult to bear.
But, it'll be fine. After this fight, I'll go home. I'll be able to act like nothing happened, and I'll be able to rest easy, knowing that I'm not in danger, that my family is safe and that… and that it's all okay.
"...But…"
He had run away. At school, he hardly talked to anyone. Neither to Taylor nor to Nina, he hardly spoke. Nina, aware of his situation, wanted to give him space. Yet, he didn't want space. He was simply afraid.
It all felt similar, far too similar, unbearably akin to the final days he planned. On those days, when he was convinced, when he truly believed he was going to kill himself, he did his best to make everyone happy. He laughed, he joked, he spent time with his loved ones and did his best to give them one last, strong push before he went to the grave.
And to do that today—it was simply too difficult to bear.
If he were to do that, he would never forgive himself. It felt as if he had given in, that he accepted death, by trying to make the most of a potentially final day.
But the other choice was arguably worse—no, it definitely was worse. Instead, he isolated himself from everyone, sitting alone and silently crying as he envisioned his own death.
That just means… It just means I have to win. I have to win, so that this was all a mishap. I have to win so that I can go home and explain to everyone my true feelings. I have to win so that I can make it up to everyone for being so horrible to them.
The winter night was cold. Cold, no doubt. As the snow began to fall, Riley shivered, looking up at the sky.
Thirty minutes left. In thirty minutes, a grand battle would commence.
I'm scared. I'm scared, and I'm shaking.
Perhaps it was just nerves, but even he, who knew his preparation, who had trained hard and long and with purpose and with intellect, was afraid.
His heart raced in his chest. His fingers felt cold, and he tucked them into his clothes.
I didn't even say goodbye to mom and dad. I didn't say goodbye to Joey, or to Nina, or to Taylor or to Kara. I just… I just hid away, all day.
Sniffling, Riley wiped his nose and his eyes.
But it's okay. I'll win this thing. I'll win, and I'll overcome, and I'll prove Ghira wrong. I'll prove the value of humanity, of goodness, of hope. This is just the first step of many to be able to fight against despair.
I need to prepare.
Summoning [Hanging], Riley took off from the ledge. Flying to his apartment complex, he saw the view of the city below. The people, the human beings that made this worthless world worth it.
I'll protect them. I swear it.
Entering through his apartment's window, Riley—
"...I figured I'd see you here. I'd be sad if I didn't."
That lovely voice, which sounded like a carol, was thrown towards him. He turned his head, seeing Nina sitting on his bed.
"Ah… hey."
"Hey. So, has the fight started yet? You didn't talk to me all day, and I haven't seen you all day, so I'm assuming you got it sorted out?"
Riley laughed gently, shaking his head. "No, no… I just… I just came here to change clothes. To get 'tactical,' haha…"
Nina's nose exhaled a laugh, and she placed her hand on her necklace. Holding the white kitty cat, she looked at Riley with expecting eyes.
"Do you have your necklace?" She asked. "Oh, and we never used those earrings."
"...What ear… oh, right, from the Halloween store. Well, yeah. Um… Well, we'll use them when I get back, okay?"
"Alright. Remember your training, your notes, and everything."
"I remember. I had a great teacher, after all."
Riley went into his closet, adorning himself with his hero outfit. He wore his signature white blanket cape, and his iconic fuzzy unicorn helmet.
"...Hey. Um…"
Unable to say the words properly, Riley lied in wait for her to respond. She got up from his bed and walked over to him, holding his hand up to his chest.
"...Well? I'm not gonna know what you're thinking if you don't say it. I'm not a mind-reader, you know."
Riley's lips curved into an awkward smile, as he nodded his head. "Right. Right. I… I love you."
"I love you too," Nina reminded him. Riley looked out the window. Twenty minutes left.
"I've got to prepare. Tell everyone I love them… nah, actually. That's if I don't make it. But I'll make it. 'Seek victory first, then battle.' Victory is a necessity."
"Right on, soldier!" Nina embarrassingly cried out, giving Riley a slap to his back. Of course, feeling his hard muscles, her hand stung afterwards, and she laughed, giving his motorcycle helmet a quick kiss where his lips were.
"Got it. Love you."
Clasping at the black cat necklace around his neck, Riley Woods departed through the window.
…
It was a beautiful night. The moon was splendid, lovely, and shining.
As the youth stood tall upon the tower, his silhouette stood out amongst the darkness, illuminated.
I'll combine my [Methods] to deliver as much force as I possibly can. I won't win in a battle of attrition.
Stretching, limbering up, Riley prepared himself.
Then, the countdown began. The final thirty seconds, the passing of time auditory via small ticking of a clock.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Alright. I'll do this. I'll win.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
To save people.
Four.
Three.
Two.
I am going to win.
One.
XXX
In an instant, Riley's sixth sense was overwhelmed. Plainly, it was drowned out by large seas of Bloodlust.
There was no mistaking it. Tens of people had arrived to face the Enemy of the World, Riley Woods.
"My loyal servants, and my unsubjugated enemy, you are all gathered here today. For the purpose of a grand, climactic test—to see if Riley is strong enough to overcome you all on his own—you have been united under my command and my ownership."
Across from him, along an opposing skyscraper, Riley saw all of the servants gathered, though the distance was too great to get any precise details on number or appearance—their Bloodlust spoke for itself.
"And, due to Riley Wood's constant yearning, I've decided that his will shall be done."
"...?"
Confused, Riley glanced up at the moonlight.
"Because Riley is so starkly against killing, let it be shown! He's killed over one-thousand and three-hundred people to get to this strength, in both physical ability and ability aptitude. Originally, he could only summon one at a time, and he was so fragile that Scott could burrow his fist through his stomach with ease."
Sweat began to rise. Heat began to rise. His mind racing, Riley instinctively understood.
—The very next moment, he felt a sharp decline in physical strength.
"But, because he wants to shout and proclaim that murder is useless, the strength that I gave him shall be taken away! Now, he's right back to where he started—though, for the sake of helping his point further, I have allowed the strength gained from exercise and the like to remain."
His combinations of abilities were now removed. He couldn't summon more than one [Method] at a time, and his body was as if he had not followed the killing rule, which allowed him to gain strength by murder.
"Now, then. Amuse me, enthrall me, captivate me with this showing of bloodshed and violence! Let the battle commence—of the avatars of mineself, against the avatar of humanity!!!"
—So it was said, as over thirty servants leapt from the rooftop at grand speeds, soaring through the night air with tens of thousands of murders staining their souls.