Ken walked towards the old clock tower, his nerves jangling like loose wires as he approached the rendezvous point. The streets were quieter than usual, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows across the asphalt. He was nervous—more nervous than he cared to admit. His mind buzzed with uncertainty as he glanced around, half-expecting to see someone watching him, though no one was there.
To distract himself, Ken thought about the old market that used to stand near here. It had once been a convenient place to get some food. But all that was gone now. Two Blighted gangs had torn the place apart in a brutal fight. It was nothing but a ghost of memory now.
He wondered if the girl was even going to show up. It was almost 7, the time of their arranged meeting. His pulse quickened as he replayed her words in his head, trying to decipher if she was serious, or if this was all some elaborate joke he hadn’t caught onto.
Suddenly, a pair of hands slipped over his eyes, cutting off his thoughts in an instant.
“Guess who!” A soft, warm breath brushed against his ear from behind, sending a jolt through his body.
Ken let out an involuntary yelp, startled, and nearly tripped over his own feet as he spun around. His heart raced, and for a split second, he felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe. When he turned, he was met with the sight of the white-haired girl, her mischievous smile lit by the last traces of daylight.
“Easy there,” she teased, lowering her hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you that much.”
Ken swallowed hard, nerves tightening in his chest as he stood there, feeling awkward under the girl’s gaze. “I’m here, like you asked,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “So… what are you up to tonight?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she gave him a knowing smile and grabbed his wrist. Before he could react, she pulled him along as she effortlessly leapt onto the roof of the building where the old market had once stood. His stomach lurched as his feet left the ground, and he barely had time to process what was happening before they landed softly on the rooftop.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Ken stammered, glancing nervously at the drop below.
She pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Shh… just wait. Something interesting is about to happen,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the street below.
Ken’s mind raced. “Something interesting?” he thought, skeptical but too curious to object.
A few tense moments passed, and then Ken saw what she meant. Down below, two figures emerged from the shadows, walking with purpose. Peacekeepers. They wore the signature dark cloaks, the resplendent crosses emblazoned on the fabric the only sign of their authority.
The girl leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Every night, like clockwork, this pair patrols the area. Making sure no Blighted are up to anything... suspicious.”
Ken nodded, still watching the Peacekeepers. “That’s… interesting,” he said, though he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him. Then he turned to her, brows furrowing. “Why show me this? What’s your point?”
The girl’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “Because tonight, I’m going to kill them.”
Ken’s blood ran cold. “K-Kill?” he stammered, the word barely escaping his lips. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
She didn’t even flinch, her voice calm and casual like usual. “This is how I’m going to show you how serious I am about the revolution.”
Before Ken could say another word, she jumped off the rooftop.
She descended like a shadow in the night sky, her white shirt fluttering in the air, catching the faint glow of the streetlights below as she descended. Her right arm twisted, flesh rippling and reshaping itself into a monstrous gauntlet. The subtle grace of her fall, the way her hair streamed behind her, belied the violence of what was to come.
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Below, the Peacekeepers didn’t notice her until it was too late. They barely had time to look up, their eyes widening in horror as she came crashing down, the impact of her claw hitting the ground with a deafening crack. Dust and debris exploded into the air as her strike pulverized the concrete beneath her. The Peacekeepers, reacting just in time, threw themselves to the side, dodging the blow by a hair’s breadth.
"W-What do you think you’re doing?" one of the Peacekeepers gasped. His hand trembled as he clutched the hilt of his sword, eyes darting between the girl and the wreckage she'd caused.
His partner wasn’t as rattled. Without a word, he had already drawn his sword, the blade catching the dim light of the streetlamps as he charged. His movements were swift, practiced, the sword arcing through the air as he aimed a slash at the girl’s neck.
But she was faster. She shifted on her feet, her body twisting just enough to avoid the blade by a fraction of an inch, her expression calm, as though this was nothing more than a dance. The sword whistled past her, missing its mark entirely.
From the rooftop above, Ken watched the chaos unfold, his heart hammering in his chest. He crouched low, trying to make himself as small as possible, hoping to avoid attention. He snuck glances over the edge, unable to tear his eyes away from the battle below.
She’s absolutely nuts, Ken thought, his stomach churning as the girl continued to tangle with the Peacekeepers.
As Ken watched the fight continued to unfold below. He reminded himself that even though the Blighted were feared, the Peacekeepers were also nothing to be messed with.
They’re human, he thought, his eyes narrowing as one of them moved with inhuman speed, sword flashing through the air. Or at least, they used to be.
The Peacekeepers weren’t born with powers like the Blighted. No, they were enhanced—scientifically engineered to be beyond human, something that could stand toe-to-toe with the Blighted and not appear any weaker. And for that reason, they were chosen to watch over the Blighted, to keep them in check.
Ken’s eyes widened as two tentacles sprouted from the girl’s back, whipping through the air violently, forcing the Peacekeepers to retreat. They lashed out like serpents, fluid and deadly, keeping her opponents at bay. She’d changed her form again.
She can do that? Ken thought to himself in awe. The way her body shifted and morphed—it almost reminded him of someone. But he wasn’t allowed to finish the thought when the girl popped back on the roof again.
“Hey!” she called out, her voice bright, casual, as if nothing had happened.
Ken’s blood ran cold as he took in the scene. In each hand, she held a severed head by the hair—two Peacekeepers, their faces frozen in shock. The once-bright red glow of their eyes, the unmistakable mark of their kind, had faded into dull, lifeless orbs. Blood dripped slowly from the severed necks, pooling on the rooftop at her feet. The sight was grotesque, made worse by her carefree demeanor.
Ken’s stomach churned. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. The girl stood there, smiling, her pale hair catching the light as if she hadn’t just torn two lives apart. The heads swayed slightly in her grip, and Ken’s breath hitched, a sharp wave of nausea rising as the reality of it hit him.
It was horrifying. Not just the severed heads—though they were bad enough—but the casual way she held them, the eerie brightness in her eyes.
The girl wiped her hands on her shirt, casting a casual glance at the lifeless heads. She crouched down and placed one gently on the ground in front of Ken, her lips curling into a strange smile.
“That wasn’t easy,” she admitted, her voice oddly calm, almost reflective. “Just like I thought—the Peacekeepers are strong.” She nudged the severed head toward him with the tip of her boot. “These? Gifts. For you.”
Ken stared at the heads, feeling a cold shiver crawl up his spine. The dull, lifeless eyes of the Peacekeepers seemed to bore into him, even though they were long gone. His throat tightened, his pulse pounding in his ears. Gifts? She’s definitely off in the head.
The girl straightened up, looking down at him with an almost expectant gaze. “So, what do you think, Ken? You want in on the revolution? Or are you content with the life they’ve handed you?”
Ken stood frozen, unable to speak. His mind raced. He thought back to life in the Satellite—the never-ending grind of the factory, the back-breaking work that barely paid enough to keep him from starving. The constant fear of the Peacekeepers watching his every move, just waiting for him to slip up so they could drag him into an alley and beat him half to death. His fists clenched at the memory, the bitterness rising like bile in his throat.
He had spent his entire life scraping by, working himself to the bone for scraps, always under the heel of the Peacekeepers. If he didn’t fall in line, if he so much as blinked wrong, he’d find himself beaten bloody. It wasn’t a life—it was survival. And barely that.
Ken glanced at the girl. She was crazy—there was no doubt in his mind. No one in their right mind would throw themselves into something as reckless as a revolution. But then again, maybe that’s exactly what it took. A crazy person, someone fearless enough to tear the whole thing down.
The silence stretched, heavy and electric, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
Finally, Ken’s breath steadied, and he felt something shift inside him—a decision, sharp and undeniable. His voice came out firm, louder than he expected. “I’m in.”