“Let's finish things up, buddy.” A slight smile reflected off the blade of his katana as he charged forward. Two Salamacers lunged after him, mouths wide open and revealing their hundreds of small serrated teeth. Instinctively, Asashi ducked to the ground, and oh boy, was he glad he did. Two shots of green goo narrowly skimmed above his face the moment he dropped, but the danger wasn’t finished yet. Two fast and rather giant mouths were upon him, ready to easily chomp off his body parts as they did to Kurt. But as they should have known by now, he wasn’t an average Knight.

He slammed his fist on the ground as the concrete broke into pieces, and the monsters lost their footing. Seeing a slight crack in their timing, Asashi drove his glowing green katana inside one of the monster's mouths, making it cry in pain, similar to a pig's squeal. It was a tad off-putting, to say the least. All of his other victims simply hadn’t had time to cry because they were dead before even realizing it. Their squeals seemed too similar to humans for his liking…

With his sword now occupied, he had to deal with the other incoming monster the old-fashioned way. With a clean left uppercut, he smashed his fist under the monster's chin with all the strength he could muster at one time. The sheer impact of his punch blew a direct hole through its flat muzzle while its body was sent flying through the air like a rag doll. Successfully defending himself from their attack, Asashi pulled his sword out from the monster's mouth mid-scream, the unpleasant sound of grinding metal in contact with its teeth soon following. Seeing as it wasn’t fully dead yet, he decided to put it out of its misery with one final slash across its throat.

Splat!

Seeing the lifeless corpse resting in a pool of its blood, he eyed his surroundings to find more and more Salamacers appearing out of thin air. This time, a handful came after him, shooting goo in the air, which turned into a rain shower of Acid. Seeing the droplets coming at him with no way to escape, he sighed.

I’m sorry for what I have to do.

His gaze stirred towards the half-dissolved body of a civilian who was unlucky enough to be caught amid the battle. The body of a young woman with short blonde hair, her face now unrecognizable from the hollow eye sockets, and her red mushy skin. The nose was gone entirely, and an empty hole remained in place. A girl with her whole life ahead of her, now half-alive and waiting for someone to put her out of misery. Even though Asashi knew she couldn’t see him, he could tell by the shake in her fingers that she was calling out for help–calling out to someone who’d just end the pain.

And he granted her that pleasure... by plunging his sword into her head.

A slight crack was audible, but against the sirens and squealing monsters, it was just an afterthought.

Asashi had no time to think or process his actions. He quickly grabbed the girl's body and held it above his head. The sizzling sounds of the acid rain connecting with the girl made him close his eyes, temporarily at least. He knew it was useless; it wasn’t his eyes he should have covered, but his ears.

But he wanted to cover something, and with his hands above his head, currently occupied with blocking the acid, he had no choice. In this brief second of obscurity, his mind could only think of one thing. Forgive me.

Asashi knew he wasn’t at fault. If he had just stood around waiting, she would have suffered a more painful death. But even so, he used her as a shield… a tool. His quick decision to shove his sword into her skull was to make her suffer less…before he inevitably used her as a human shield that is. The realization of his intent left a bad taste in his mouth.

I haven't changed, did I? It's hard to think about humanity or compassion when forced into a life-or-death situation. Once the rain of acid stopped, Asashi gently laid down the girl, who had now become a mess of bones and flesh. The gruesome sight made him grimace. It's been a long time since he had seen such a brutal sight after being promoted to the board of directors for the AOK. Naturally, he went on fewer and fewer missions and only took the ones that needed his immediate help, and maybe that accidentally made him less used to the disturbing sights than he once was.

But it soon went away.

Maybe his old self kicked in, but his mind didn’t allow him to dwell on that fact for more than a few moments. He was still in survival mode; everything else came second. Instead, he unsheathed his glowing emerald green sword and pointed at the monsters while patiently waiting for them to lunge.

His blunt eyes stared them down, his composed stance exuding cold power, and his coat ruffling in the wind. This was the confidence of a man who had seen death.

The Knights on standby could only watch in awe as he cut down every single monster in front of him with precision attacks and calculated movements. One after another, heads of monsters dropped on the ground, followed by the silent footsteps of a Knight running on puddles of their blood. The sight of the man single-handedly slaying a colony of high bronze-rank monsters at once, silenced anyone who dared challenge his capabilities before.

“T-this can't be real…” breathed the commander of the knight corps, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. “Who is this guy? He shows up out of the blue without a uniform or a badge and slays every single monster? Ridiculous.”

“You really don’t know who he is?” the same Knight who had recognized Asashi before inquired.

“If I remembered every single Knight’s name, my brain would fry. Out with it!” he retorted bitterly. The Knight didn’t take his remark to heart and simply watched as Asashi continued slaying the monsters with superhuman speed and strength.

“He goes by many names…”

Asashi threw a flurry of raw jabs at the creatures, dodging the acid they spat out. It almost seemed like he was toying with them by not even using a weapon.

“But there's a name that every single Knight had heard at least once…”

The light blue hue of his super sense, mixed with his natural eye color, created a glow of pure wild intensity. The eyes of a person who had seen hell. The eyes of a person who had killed. The eyes… of a beast.

“They call him… Panther.”

#

Asashi continued drinking his coffee, only this time in his office, overlooking the green grass that stretched for miles, stopping only at the sight of half-visible skyscrapers obscured by fog. This was the center of the Tokyo metropolitan area, the safe haven, the prestigious home of countless Knights, countless heroes—including Asashi himself.

At least, that’s how the public viewed them. To Asashi, this peaceful plot of land in the city's center was hell. But it was also a hell he’d grown used to.

“I’m tired…” he yawned, leaning back in his recliner chair, which overlooked the scenery through a tall glass arch window. His office was similar to Mr. Storm’s, with massive library shelves made from old polished wood from the 1930s, filled with books of all kinds, and a luxurious and spacious private bathroom where he spent too much of his time, often scrolling through social media. Unlike his superior, he was clean and organized, never allowing himself to succumb to the filth that could sour his usual, unfriendly mood.

No papers on his desk were left unchecked, no empty cans or takeout boxes scattered on the ground, and he certainly wasn’t in his polka-dotted underwear. That guy… He gets under my skin, and I don’t even know why. Of course, he could instantly point out the traits he found annoying, but… there was something else about Mr. Storm that he didn’t like. The caution and seething annoyance he felt around him almost felt familiar.

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Then it hit him. Sen…

After all this time, he never put the two together. But his disdain for both came from one similar source—the white tiger monster. It suddenly made sense why he felt the way he did towards the two of them. They both have the monster in th—No, no, that’s incorrect. There is no proof that any part of the Whitetiger is within Sen; in fact, it almost seems as if the experiment permanently damaged his ability to have a sense. Asashi corrected himself but still couldn’t help but ponder on that thought for a moment.

But perhaps a small fraction of its DNA is still there? Maybe that’s why I feel the similarities between the two. But then again… I have my other reasons for disliking Sen. Ones that aren’t related to some superficial aura that the Whitetiger monster has.... I still don’t know why Sen did that… His thoughts trailed away as he clenched his fist, turning his skin pale white.

Releasing his grip, he sighed out.

“It doesn’t really matter.” He took a sip of his coffee and put it on his desk. He had already gone through his fit of anger after being informed that Sen had somehow snuck in to participate in the challenge. Not only that, but other surviving vessels of the Whitetiger monster. Just thinking about it sent him through another fit of rage, but he quickly composed himself, not allowing himself to be angered that easily. He actively tried holding back his anger because, apparently, it was a problem. Whatever that meant. It wasn’t like he could control all of his impulses.

“I can sit back here and mull over the fact I can't disqualify him. But it won't achieve anything. I don’t even have any evidence to prove that Sen was responsible for that incident shortly after the disappearance of his father. Not like Storm would ever believe me. He has a soft spot for all the vessels.” Mr. Storm had far more control over the academy, being one of Japan's only diamond-rank Knights. His word was almost law itself, so regardless if he had receipts to prove his point, it would be futile. In the end, Storm seemed inclined to protect any of the surviving vessels.

Diamond rank, my ass… he put no effort. He had those powers handed to him with a silver spoon! Asashi couldn’t lie, it was frustrating to acknowledge his rank because, in truth, he was very new compared to Asashi, who had almost two times the experience.

How long has it been since he joined? Asashi scowled. Twelve years, too, huh? What a joke. He gets gene-spliced with a monster and becomes an unstoppable force, and at the same time, his scientist, Yami, disappears and apparently experimented on his own son right before?

He slammed his fist on the mahogany table, accidentally making his drink topple over. The liquid leaked on the table, activating his computer's hologram screen. The starting song of his unlocking computer made him slam his forehead on the desk. He couldn’t put up with this anymore.

“Bz bz, Welcome, Asashi… please provide a password before logging—”

“It doesn’t make sense…” He groaned, taking no notice of the hologram screen. “Nothing has made sense in a while. If only that… that bastard Yami didn’t run away, then I could finally get some answers…”

He had known Yami far more than he should have. In fact, at one point, he called him a friend. But he was more than just that. He was a comrade, a brother to him.

They fought in the last world war, side by side, with their guns pointed at their enemies' heads, ready to pull the trigger at any sudden movement. The scene of tangled organs and the revolting iron stench of blood never left his mind. Even though it was long gone, he could still smell the vague scent in the air.

Asashi didn’t miss those times, and he would give everything to erase those traumatic memories from his mind. But it didn’t change the fact that they survived that—Together.

They saw their friends die…

They saw bombs fall towards them…

They saw the skeletal remains of the people they once knew…

They both cried, then sighed in relief that it was over…

And that’s what made Yami’s betrayal all the more painful. The only thing he left behind was a monster in human clothing and a boy that he hated…

“What truly happened?” Asashi looked up at the sky. The perfect blue expanse and fluffy clouds were comforting, but it didn’t give him any liberation from the constant doubts and questions that repeated in his mind. “You really left at a bad time, Yami. You still haven’t finished what you wanted to do,” he said reminiscently, bitterness noticeable before he quietly muttered to himself. “…Coward.”

Asashi remembered those words very well. They have stuck with him ever since their war days. In fact, he tried to forget them every single day, but they kept coming back like an infectious virus. Asashi disliked the words because they made him feel… inspired.

It made that innocent passion come back for a moment—that small ray of hope. The hope that the world could be saved one day… But he rejected it. Because that same passion was what drove Yami to madness. And Asashi refused to be blinded by that false hope.

Yet… it simply wouldn’t leave his mind.

Asashi groaned as he stirred backward in his recliner, staring at the tall ceiling.

“I don’t want this anymore, Asashi,” Yami’s voice called out in his thoughts. He gripped his head and began aggressively shaking and pounding it. Asashi couldn’t allow himself to be fooled once again, to be blinded by such a delusive idea.

“Shut up!” Grunting in retaliation, he stood up and banged his head on the wall.

But it was useless. Asashi’s voice was drowned by the message of his ex-comrade.

“The world isn’t going to change if we just sit around waiting for a hero.”

“SHUT UP! There’s nothing I can do, okay? I just want to live.... fucking, I don't know, peacefully. I don’t have time for your delusional dream. You’re a man who was so enthralled with his vision that you stripped away your humanity even more than I did!”

Asashi found himself battling his own mind. There was not a person in sight—just a tiny figment he had created. But the voice was real to Asashi. He felt it whisper in his ear like the devil seducing his next victim with a sweet, tempting voice. In actuality, the words of Yami weren’t any different. He was a devil coming back to haunt him.

“Asashi, aren’t you sick of this world? Don’t you want it to change?”

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!” he bellowed. “Of course I am! But there's nothing I can do, alright? Everything is meaningless! No matter how many wars happen, more will come! How do you expect me to help? I’m powerless—”

“I want to create a world…” Yami said in his mind, leaving him frozen. “A world without selfishness. A world where only the humbled live…”

…

Asashi slumped against the wall, lying as he tried to catch his breath. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead. Battling an invisible person proved more difficult than any monster he had slain. It was almost funny, so funny in fact that he couldn’t help but laugh at it.

“Hahahaha!” he covered his eyes hysterically, but his smile showed no joy.

No, his smile was filled with bitterness and refusal to agree. Yami's ideology was courageous and proved to be nothing but a positive vision, but it was also one that he threw away his humanity in an attempt to achieve. Asashi would never forgive him for what he did, and for that reason, he negated Yami’s vision for that future because it just proved how a ridiculous idea could drive someone into madness.

“I will never be as foolish as you, Yami,” Asashi whispered. “Never.”

A shard of light shot through the arched window and glistened on his face, making him drop his hands to relish the warmth it brought. Leaning his head against the cream-colored wall, Asashi finally felt the voice of his former friend gradually disappear. These types of episodes had become more common as time had passed. It felt like a clock was in hand, feeling its constant tick as if he were running out of time. It’s all in my head. He concluded. Almost all of his worries were just a fabrication. At that point, was it even his fault?

Asashi realized that it was like a black hole in his brain, slowly eating away everything he had left. More or less, that’s what trauma was: a black fragment in one's brain that consumed everything around it, feeding itself until it grew larger and larger. Until… there wouldn’t be anything left to consume.

Well, there was only one age-old solution to that problem, and that was taking a simple nap.

Albeit he wasn’t really planning on it, but, feeling the warm ray of the sun, mixed with the mental exhaustion of his episode and the physical fatigue of slaying monsters, he unknowingly started falling asleep while lying on the ground, his head slowly slumping forward like a zombie.

Sometimes, the best solutions were the most simple ones.

Sometimes, people overcomplicated things by creating vigorous methods that make things worse.

Sometimes, just a simple nap would do.

And nap Asashi did. Not before long, low, mumbled snores escaped his breath as he embraced the warmth of slumber.

But, in the midst of his rest, he whispered something unconsciously, something that had been troubling him for the past twelve years.

What was it?

“Sen…” Asashi groused mid-snore, calling out the name of his former friend’s son. “Sen...why…”

Asashi was simply speaking gibberish, so his words held no actual meaning. Perhaps thinking of Yami had led him to grasp his anger toward his son. They both resembled each other, so it wasn’t a foregone conclusion.

“Why did you, trynnnmm…” Asashi mumbled before he sprawled out on the floor, leaving his slumped position. It seemed that his attempt at forming a coherent sentence ran short.

But yet, as Asashi tossed and turned in restlessness, groaning feverishly, he refused to keep silent. Asashi wanted to scream, he wanted to shout from the bottom of his heart, the words that sat in the pit of his stomach, they yearned to escape—

And out came a small whisper, barely audible to the human ear. Words so soft, that someone would doubt if they were even said in the first place.

“Sen…” Asashi murmured. “Why did you? Try to kill. Your own mother.”