I stopped stabbing myself with the pen and dropped it onto the table, my hand trembling. The pen rolled across the surface, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. I raised my forearm high in his direction, the blood seeping from the fresh wound and dripping onto the table. "Do you recognize my sincerity?" I asked, my voice steady despite the pain. The forearm slowly decreased its secretion of blood, and the man opposite me nodded, his expression unwavering. "Yes, I do," he replied. He clicked his pen with a sharp snap and tucked it into his shirt pocket. "You are hereby formally accepted into ECLIPSE. Let me outline what you will be doing and our ranks." He removed a sheet of paper from the board clip, flipped it over, and handed it to me.

The paper was slightly worn, creased from handling. I scanned the text: "Rankings are not determined by time, but by devotion and usefulness. Our lowest rank is Enlightened, with the middle rank being Liberator, and the highest rank (other than a few exceptions) being Prophet. These are only our spiritual ranks. Combat ranks are determined by the color of clothing you will be allowed to wear. From lowest to highest: blue, purple, green, red, then black. Our black-colored members can contend with decent UFC fighters." I couldn't help but chuckle, a sound tinged with disbelief and curiosity. "Seems like an army to me." I said, dosing a human response into the otherwise tense atmosphere. The man extended his hand, his gaze never leaving mine. "It is. Welcome on board. My name is John, by the way." I shook his hand, feeling the cold, firm grip. In that moment, I had made a deal with the devil.

With my other hand, I held tightly onto my rosary hidden beneath my shirt, the cool beads grounding me. John informed me, "You're quite strong, so we'll start you at the black color for combat. You are still only Enlightened spiritually, though." His tone was matter-of-fact, almost clinical. John stood up and walked towards the door, his movements smooth. He was one who could block an uppercut from me. I might have to gather allies. "Come here tomorrow at three. That's when we will introduce you to our rituals." He opened the door, casting a brief glance back at me. I nodded, "Alright, sure." "See you later then." he said, stepping aside to let me pass. I walked out at his beckon and made my way down the corridor. The walls seemed to take on a new meaning as I could now faintly see some writing etched into the stone. Before, I had noticed some symbols, but this... this was different. The cryptic marks hinted at something deeper, something I wasn't yet privy to. Anyways, now that I'm in, I must make myself stand out. I resolved to do whatever it took. Even if I have to pretend to be one of these loons, I will do it. For her!

The next day..

I kneeled down in this dark and decrepit back room adorned with evil symbols and writing. Someone in a black robe towered in front of me. I'm looking down, but their feet are... wide. It's so dark I can't see them clearly. This ritual is definitely bad for my soul. The person held a chalice out. I held out my palm skyward, accepting their grace. They poured blood onto my hand, and it seeped into my skin. What the hell is this? The liquid pooled on the floor, and stayed there. It did not disappear. The person spoke, their voice revealing a woman, "Do you accept this?" I tucked my other hand in my robe, crossing my fingers, "I do." She responded, "As does Arnold." Arnold? The bastard that actually killed Amy? I twitched, but held it in for now. The symbols on the walls seemed to mock me, their dark power seeping into my bones. I could still feel the blood on my hand, sticky and warm, as if it were alive. The ritual shortly ended, and all the other members scattered into the lobby.

John jogged over to me, his excitement barely contained. "Hey man, what did you think about the experience?" I forced a smile, lying through my teeth. "It was great. It felt liberating. Kind of like what the second rank entails." John nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, don't worry. You'll get there. Just keep attending and you'll rise. Actually..." Actually? That's not how you end a statement. I probed further, "Actually? Do you have something I need to do?" John started snapping his fingers repeatedly, looking off to the side as if trying to recall something. "Well... there's somebody that's been causing problems for us. If you take care of him, it might make you stand out."

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My eyes lit up at the prospect. "Yeah, I can beat somebody up and tell them to stop." John raised his arm over my shoulder, pulling me in closer. "Alright, listen. His name is Oren Hashigana." I dropped my jaw. They want me to fight him?! No damn way. But could I convince him to let me fake beating him up? It's a gamble. John continued, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "This bastard is strong. He's beaten up many of our strongest members so badly they got sent to the hospital." I asked, "What did he even do again?" John gave me a weird look, then shifted his posture, as if deciding how much to divulge. "We wanted to recruit his son, but even his son beat up one of our guys. We then tried to reason with him, but he's talked to the police. Our guy covered it up, though."

I cursed myself inwardly. If I had the recorder on right now, I could've confirmed that this bastard has a police contact. It's fine, though. Now, I know for sure. "Alright," I said, hiding my true intentions behind a mask of determination. "I'll handle it." John patted my shoulder, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "I knew you would." John said, "We can send you his address. Right now, there should be some people heading to him. If you help and make an effort, you may get just as much eyes on you as if you did it solo."

My heart beat fast. Wait, right now?!

Meanwhile..

I held Halie's hand as we walked down the sidewalk. My leg's been doing much better these days, not that I've tried rehabilitating it. I could use my full strength for a couple minutes at a time. Me and Tony have many great sparring sessions ahead of us. My phone rang, and I fished it out. Oh, Aroha. I answered and held it up to my ear. "Hey, where are you?" she asked. I smiled. "Oh, just walking Halie around. I want her to be as strong as you, so teaching her to walk for a mile or so at six ain't so bad." Aroha, flustered for a moment, responded, "Ugh, you and your fitness. Well, just turn around and start heading home soon. Dinner will be ready." "Alright," I acknowledged. "I'll start walking back home. Be there in like seven minutes. Bye, love you." "Love you too," she said, her voice warm with affection. I hung up and looked down at Halie. "Hey, mommy's gonna have dinner ready soon. Ready to head home?" She answered with a lisp, "Ok, daddy." I carefully turned us around and started heading home, savoring these precious moments with Halie.

I heard something behind me, a subtle rustling that made my heart skip a beat. I let go of Halie's hand and twisted quickly, my eyes scanning the dense trees. In the shadows, I spotted three men in robes, their faces partially obscured. They stuck out their heads from behind the trees, and realizing they were spotted, they began to move slowly toward me. Two of them pulled out knives, the glint of the blades catching my eye immediately. Not them again. Not now. The one time I don't bring my gun with me. I didn't know these bastards were this desperate. I turned to Halie, my voice steady but urgent. "You can make it back home, right?" Halie nodded, her eyes wide but determined. "Ya. It's not so far, daddy." I forced a reassuring smile. "I'll be right behind you. Can you please be safe?" She squeezed my hand once more before letting go. "Okay."

As Halie began to walk away, I kept my eyes on the men in black robes, who were drawing closer and closer. Halie’s figure grew smaller, but I knew she’d be safe. I had cleared this place of any animals, and it was only a half-mile to our home. I opened my palms, bringing both forearms near my face to a defensive stance. I felt a familiar surge of energy as my fighting spirit pulsated once again. I could almost hear the crackling of lightning like in the old days, but there was nothing there. Before, I sent these scum to the hospital. Now? I'll send them to the morgue!