The abandoned skyscraper’s roof was shrouded in the darkest of shadows. Only the faintest sliver of moonlight illuminated the man, though to an observer none could be made out but his tall silhouette. Quiet but regal steps sounded as the man walked slowly closer to the end of the roof, before finally looking down on the vast city below. As The Man's face shone with the reflections of the multicolored neon lights, his expression changed to a look that was as if it were surveying society itself, surveying it to see if it was truly worthwhile of existence.. For this man knew he had the power to change its fate with just one small swipe of his hand.
Then with one last look at the city, the man disappeared into oblivion, as if he had never been there to begin with.
***
The nothingness of the cosmos had yet to be conquered by human ambition. The stars were home to no living being but one man who had ceased to be human long ago. In the old days he had stood above the earth. Empires had fallen before his iron fist, and peace had been forged in a river of blood. Yet he and his followers had been cast out, condemned to an eternity floating aimlessly within the stars. In the early days he had been surrounded by countless allies and children, but they had died one by one, not strong enough to survive the countless centuries of exile. The man stood alone, gazing at the earth as he hovered above a fiery star. His hair was long and as white as the full moon and it drifted around his ageless face. He extended his hand towards the Earth and grasped his hand into a fist.
“”To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”” The man laughed, although there was no one to hear it. It was one of his favorite quotes from the philosopher Nietzche, a man who had long been forgotten by humanity…just as humanity had forgotten him. A meteor spiraled through the black abyss of space like a shooting star, and the man unclenched his hand. The meteor exploded into an eruption of fiery shards of stone as the man’s fist shone with an aura of true cosmic power. “I now have the power to crush their society with my own hands while they scream for mercy, but shall I?” he mused to himself as the flaming sparks slowly blinked out of existence. The countless years had changed Feros Obscurum, taking his heart of pure darkness and imbedding in it the slightest shard of light. He still desired revenge and destruction, but yet he could not bring himself to completely crush the feeble Earth with his dark fists.
***
A spire rose high above the neon-coloured chaos of Neo Arachnis. At the top of the spire a young man stood, gazing out at the city with his hands clasped behind his back. He had been lauded by the media as the second coming of the fabled leader Frutrruschuk, although in reality he was wealthier and more ruthless than any tale claimed Frutrruschuk to be. Amarterasu Cybers had been elected as president of Neo Arachnis at the young age of eighteen, leaving a bloody trail of mysterious deaths behind him. Amarterasu had been born in the bottom of the city and before his election the name Cybers had been completely unknown. Now however, it was spoken in the same hushed tone reserved for the high families Teslamancer and Dongleface.
“Sir. We have a problem.” Amarterasu turned around to see that his secretary, a man in a slick black suit, had entered his office. “We have received news that Fangtastic Teslamancer is feeding the news with stories concerning the death of Fai Teslamancer in the last election.”
Amarterasu smiled a thin smile, remembering the perfect assassination he had orchestrated for Fai. “Fangtastic is trying to bring me down?” Amarterasu only vaguely recalled meeting the short elderly man briefly at some party a few years back. “He must be getting old. It would be rather unfortunate should he die from a heart attack before he reaches his eightieth birthday, wouldn’t it?” His secretary slightly bowed his head.
“Consider it done, sir,” he said, before slipping out of the room and leaving Amarterasu with his thoughts.
The president of the Arachni Union strode to his desk and relaxed into the throne-like armchair that stood behind his crystal desk. The room, highest of all in the great skyscraper that was known as the “Palace Needle”, was mostly empty. A cold, bare room helped Amarterasu Cybers think.
Amarterasu smoothed back his slick blonde hair and uncorked a bottle of premium whiskey imported from overseas, filling a diamond cup and sipping. It had been four years since he had come to power. Presidents of the Union ruled for life, but not one had ever lived to an old age, not since the days of the great Frutrruschuk, last man to ever dominate the whole Earth. Amarterasu put little stock in those stories. They were only legends, after all. Intelligent men put their faith in stocks and weapons.
He had been very young for the title, the youngest since Xzasti Vandorius, who had been only eleven and a mere puppet for his family’s elders. He’d barely lasted a month. Amarterasu intended to live a very long life.
Yet the city churned with unrest, like a man tossing and turning from a nightmare. Something was boiling from within, all the reports hinted towards it. A string of violent murders. Three riots a week, and new cults springing up monthly, each one with more fanatical beliefs. Pressing a nearly-invisible button on his desk, Amarterasu brought up a holographic screen. Quickly, he read through a series of emails, mostly dry political updates. Nevertheless, he made sure to comprehend each one. The slightest misstep would be a chance for his rivals to topple him from the presidency.
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For four hundred years, leadership of the Union had simply swapped between members of the six great families. He was the first new blood in centuries, which made hating him possibly the first thing they’d ever agreed upon. It also made him the target of a thousand petitions and deal offers from up-and-coming bureaucrats and business leaders, eager to get a slice of the wealth that had only ever been allowed the Families and their close friends.
Those “Families” had grown quite a bit smaller since he’d first taken the oath of leadership.
One email in particular caught his attention…from Anthony Torns, the chief of police. Supposedly a new cult, “The Children of Obscurum” were getting rather wild. According to the letter, they preached some nonsense about a “seal breaking” and the “god of death unleashed”. Amarterasu thought little of religion; ordinarily he would’ve thought their beliefs superstitious nonsense. Yet according to Torns’ report, this god they prayed to was allegedly a king from the far past, a man who had ruled the world before the days of Frutrruschuk and as such held precedence over his heirs in the ancient line of succession. That meant they were prone to be rebellious folk. Ah well. He’d give Torns the same order he usually gave…wipe them all out. There was no place for discordance within Neo Arachnis…not while it was the capital of his nation.
***
The personal secretary of Amartarasu Cybers had many connections throughout the entirety of Neo Arachnis, but he had finally reached the end of his abilities. His usual group of mercenaries were unavailable, so he was forced to turn to the people who were considered unsavory even in the amoral world of professional killers.
Amido Amdahl believed himself to be the top mercenary of Neo Arachnis. So when he got a call from the Union government he thought it was obvious.
As he walked through the sleek white halls of the spire he sighed, “Who knew that being an assassin could be so boring? Honestly, I’ve had to kill people from each opposing side almost every day!”
Amido Amdahl was loyal to no one. If he was paid enough he would dispose of anybody. His true opinions of the government were left unknown, but in truth the only thing he cared for was himself. He walked into a glass elevator and pressed a button leading directly to the bottom. Soon he would be done with this assassination and move on to the next. The doors of the elevator smoothly swung open and he was met with his hitman team, the same team that he believed would cause countless deaths, even though they had yet to cause one.
“Master, you have arrived. What is the next mission?” A young woman with light brown hair tied tightly in a knot stood by the door. She held a lollipop close to her mouth, licking it.
“An assassination, my beautiful Lollipop Lover, what else would we do!” Amido said, giving the woman a funny thumbs up.
“Ooooo!! Assassination, assassination, assassination! I love assassinations!! Hopefully this one will be more than just poisoning their food!” A young girl with long curling navy blue hair ran through the room, giggling childishly while fondly holding many throwing knives that seemed to have blood splatters on them.
“This hitman team is sometimes hard to work with, and they are very quirky. But they get the job done.” Amido thought happily. He had never been prouder of his team.
“Alright then, let’s go and kill these people, ladies!” Amido said, striking a cool pose for all his team. All of them stared blankly at him.
Amido had brought most of his team for this assassination, except for one man. This man was so powerful and murderous that even Amido feared him. It was a passing rumor that he had killed millions of people, no matter who they were. He shivered just thinking about him.
As the hitman team quickly left through the elevator door the room was completely empty, except for a man casually lounging on a table, dressed in a pinstripe suit. He hopped off the table, humming an eerie tune to himself while casually spinning a knife in his hand. He was on a mission, a mission he himself had ordered himself to do, because Oscar Ernest didn’t follow the rules, he did whatever he wanted. Even if that involved taking a nap in the Palace Needle itself. Oscar loved nothing more than killing, but right now he wanted to sleep for the whole day in the most luxurious place in Neo Arachnis. He softly giggled to himself and thought, “Heh, I suppose Mr. Fancy Dictator would love to have me carry out his killing mission but he’s stuck with Amido and his girls because today I’m doing nothing but sleeping!” Oscar slinked out of the briefing room with a swaying dance-like walk, looking for a comfy place to nap. He walked straight into a gun pointed at his head.
“You didn’t answer my calls, Ernest, and now I find you sneaking into the Palace Needle?” The president’s secretary, Kaneda Bones, glared at Oscar, centering his black laser pistol at his face with his black-gloved hands. Kaneda was a young man, barely older than the president and usually looked put-together with his black suit and long dark hair pulled back behind his head. Today, however, he had an angry glint in his eye.
“Ooooh, scary!” giggled Oscar, mockingly raising his hands. “Sorry Bones, no assassinating for me today,” he yawned.
“You might want to reconsider,” Not lowering his gun, Kaneda pulled out a frayed badge from his pocket. It depicted a star with two scythes crossed over it, and encircling the badge were gold inscribed words reading ‘Obscurum es, et serviam tibi’. “This was found on Amido Amdhal’s coat. It’s a membership badge for the Children of Obscurum. I want Amdhal’s target eliminated, but crushing this cult comes first.”
Oscar’s face twisted into a disturbing smile as he snatched the badge from Kaneda’s hand. “Oho, I’ve heard about this! Thought about finding them and committing mass murder, but those pesky cultists sure are hard to find.” Oscar stared at the badge as he slowly licked his knife, his eyes glowing with bloodlust. “Very smart, Mr. Bones. You know I can’t resist the chance to slit Amdhal’s throat, and maybe his target will disappear at the same time, depending if I’m in the mood for more killing or if I’d rather get a snack by that point.”
“You have the president’s thanks,” Kaneda swiftly turned around, obviously trying to get away from Oscar as fast as possible. He considered himself quite proficient at dealing with politicians and the media, but there was something about Oscar’s unpredictable and violent nature that unnerved him. The president’s wishes came before any of his personal feelings, however, and the president wanted the Children of Obscurum to be found and eradicated before they gained any more prominence. And Oscar was right: even Anthony Torns, the chief of police, had been struggling to locate any possible members. Was it perhaps too convenient that Amdhal had dropped his membership badge for Kaneda to find? He couldn’t let himself consider that possibility at the moment or he might truly go insane.