03.06.3502, 18:50, on the rooftop of a four-story high residential building in downtown Stean, a city in the agricultural part of Nyxara.
Blur stood at the edge, her gaze locked onto a restaurant opposite of them. Her silhouette was bathed in different shades by the blue sun, Terex, which was slowly creeping towards the horizon.
Mimicry was standing slightly behind her, seemingly deep in thought wondering what she would do next. Both of them donned an outfit akin to an assassin, as Blur had decided these garments were the most suitable for this mission. “This should probably be a standard assassination. Why did the others have this weird look on their faces when talking about it?” Mimicry mused. He was unsure of what to make of this situation. Just as he was about to ask regarding the mission's specifics, Blur threw him a hand signal, letting him know to move out.
Dashing to another side of the roof, she jumped down without a moment's hesitation, Mimicry close behind her. They landed in a small alley on hard concrete without so much as a sound. Mimicry, who wasn't able to slow his fall like his superior, got up from his squatted position. His pupils dilated as he looked at Blur, now indistinguishable from a young waitress.
She had shed the assassin's robe, sporting a uniform which adhered to the newest trends in Nyxara: a black suit with a white high collared shirt under it and a knee-length black skirt with tights. The outfit was finished with a pair of sturdy white leather boots. Escaping his state of bewilderment he collected his thoughts. Blur’s uncanny transformation had startled him. Even though he had heard of her ability Visage-Swap, which allowed her to alter the body of herself and others, it was still shocking to see it in action. After all, she had never shown it to him before.
The awkward silence gnawed at him, “I really don't understand these trends.” Mimicry remarked in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Blur tossed her robe to him. He caught it and swiftly stowed it away, focusing on her again.
“You act like your sense of style is so much better.” The mocking tone in her voice made Mimicry abandon all thoughts of continuing this topic.
“This time Blur was the one to put an end to the silence, “I’ll enter the restaurant. I copied the looks of one of the waitresses that work there. Since she won't be showing up for work today it will allow me to move about unbothered. Once I locate the target I will give you a discrete signal. After that, you have to remove all customers from the restaurant and prevent any entry into the building.
“If someone slips my grasp, flees the scene, or acts suspicious, kill them. We can't allow any of them to escape and spread their filth even more than they already have.”
Listening attentively Mimicry understood his assignment. “When will we commence operations?” He inquired curiously.
He watched as she turned around and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant, seemingly ignoring his question. While still in the alley she halted and procured a fresh poison ivy leaf, setting it ablaze through unknown means and watching it be consumed by the steaming blaze. Shortly after, the charred black leaf ceased burning, the flames lacking nourishment. She stored the remains and turned around. “Do your worst!” she quipped, signaling the beginning of the mission. There was an eccentric shimmer coursing through her eyes as she turned to face the restaurant.
Mimicry, following the commencement of operations, dashed away to reach a roof. I don't get her, I really don't, he thought to himself as he scaled the building to get a better view on the target's premises.
Blur was the one who had saved him when he lacked a purpose, providing him a place and occupation, so obviously he was grateful for all she had done for him. This was true even when he couldn't suppress the worry that arose inside his heart when seeing her fanaticism leak through her usual demeanor. Since she changed how she behaved according to what pleased the person she was conversing with most, he was afraid that her fanatic side might be her true nature, everything else purely being an act.
Enough of this!
Pushing away his thoughts, he stopped contemplating and fully focused on the task at hand. After reaching the rooftop he got into position, obtaining a clear view of the building and of Blur who was about to enter.
Reaching for the door handle, Blur threw a look through the glass front, scanning the interior. Classy furniture, marble floor and intricate chandeliers, clearly high class. Seeing nothing blatantly amiss, she entered the building emitting an amiable air around her.
This was perfect. Blur was delighted, as she had plenty of experience when it came to manipulating the rich and prideful. A waitress dressed in the same outfit, noticed her arrival showing clear signs of relief. The restaurant was packed, the staff trying their best to handle the workload.
“Quickly Pam! Notify the boss that you're here. We could really use more hands right now!” The waitress was clearly in a hurry as she commanded “Pam” to meet their boss.
Hearing these commands Blur flashed an obsequious smile and made her way to the door that the staff was streaming in and out of. She assumed it was the entrance to the kitchen.
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That just now must have been Pam’s superior. Shame, she's probably corrupted as well then. Blur ruminated as she reached the door.
Her assumption proved correct as she found herself in a bustling kitchen. The cooks were tirelessly preparing dishes, each handling multiple stoves at the same time. Taking in the scene before her eyes, Blur muttered, her voice barely audible and laced with disdain, “All of this food, infected by these creatures, it makes me nauseous.”
She extended her intent to the aspect and it reacted to her will, her eyes turning bloodshot as Blur sensed the amount of vileness in every being in a 50 meter radius around her. Analyzing the evaluation provided by her ability she assessed that luckily the staff were the only corrupted beings in this place.
“Pam?” The sound of a tray hitting the floor and plates shattering cut Blur’s gauging short. The waitress who had dropped the tray stared at her, face contorted in disbelief and horror.
Seeing this Blur reacted in an instant, making the air on the street ripple, the signal directed at Mimicry to evacuate the innocent and lock down the area! Following this action, which barely cost her a quarter of a second, she abruptly turned around, extended her right arm and shot three ropes out of a contraption hidden on the inside of her wrist.
Finding their targets accurately, the steel ropes, possessing hooks at their ends, wrapped around three staff members’ torsos. Still confused by the earlier racket they didn’t even have time to react before they were flung across the restaurant’s spacious hall towards the door leading into the kitchen. Blur stood there and threw the three inside, shoved the shocked waitress away from the entrance, and pushed the door shut. She had moved all the vileness into one room.
“BOOM!” The sound reverberated through the room as the restaurant's entrance was kicked in by Mimicry, having witnessed the scene through the windows. “Everybody out of here if you value your lives!” he bellowed as he dashed towards the kitchen door, preventing anyone from entering.
The customers, still in a state of shock, didn't move an inch. Seeing this Mimicry drew his semi-automatic pistol and shot at the ceiling. “Get out!” he repeated his command as chaos ensued.
The crowd broke free from their confusion and scrambled to leave the building. Chairs were toppled, people pushed away.
Inside the kitchen, the three staff members that Blur flung into the room had died from the impact. Their necks were broken and blood flowed freely out of their wounds.
“Who are you?” one of the cooks asked, his face a horrified grimace. It was obvious to him that this person wasn't the Pam he knew.
“I don't answer to creatures devoid of humanity!” Blur spat out her words dripping with hatred and disgust. While she was speaking she threw out four knives in quick succession; three hit their intended target. The lady she pushed down earlier and two cooks died on the spot, their skulls pierced; however, the fourth blade didn't hit its mark. It was aimed at the one who had asked who she was, the head chef.
He had barely dodged Blur’s throw, a red line forming on his cheek. Blur and he were the only two still standing.
“You really evaded that huh?” handling it like a minor inconvenience, she nonchalantly reached for her dagger.
In the blink of an eye the head chef dashed past Blur, tossing himself against the door, his sheer mass and momentum allowing him to effortlessly barge through it. Blurs eyes followed him the whole time, but she didn't stop him.
Outside the building Mimicry saw the door opening. Seeing that it wasn't his master but what seemed to be the head chef, he reached for his firearm, ready to complete the mission assigned to him.
Just then he saw Blur dashing after the fleeing cook, dagger in hand. He sensed the pleading gaze of the target on him, practically begging to be saved. He felt a pinch of empathy, but quickly suppressed it. Just then a sickening thug rang out, as the target's lifeless body hit the ground.
Several meters away its head rolled, spewing blood all over the white marble floor. Mimicry pulled his gaze away from the severed head up to his master, where a manic expression adorned her blood sparkled face, as she gazed at the corpse laying before her, her lips forming a contorted smile.
She chuckled and looked at him, meeting his gaze with her bloodshot eyes that were slowly fading back to normal.
“So what do you think of my style?”
Mimicry shuddered as he heard her morbid question.
Scrutinizing him, Blur sensed his turbulent thoughts, and, deciding to set things straight, she approached him. She grabbed his shoulders making sure he was listening to what she was about to tell him.
“They were scum, heretics, they don't deserve to be called human. I had to get rid of them to cleanse this world of their vileness. Don't pity them, they don't deserve that, do you understand?” Blur stared at him, her face a mask of seriousness, pale features standing in stark contrast to the vibrant red of fresh blood.
Mimicry, still unable to fully process the situation, nodded hesitantly.
“Great! That's wonderful!” her lips curled into a spine-chilling smile as she looked at him with contentment.
At that moment, Blur sensed that the aspect’s judgment had concluded. Astonished by the result, she turned around and gazed into the cooking area.
All the bodies and even the blood were being erased. In their place letters describing their evil deeds appeared!
She had expected the head chef to receive the judgment of effacement, maybe one or two other staff members, but it never even crossed her mind that all of them would have reached the threshold. She was used to cleaning up bodies through her use of flames in such operations, because more often than not her opinion on who needed to be cleansed didn't align entirely with the aspects.
“Truly vile, disgusting!” her voice filled with disdain, she threw the burnt ivy leaf she had prepared earlier to where the head chef’s body had been and turned away from the self-cleaning crime scene. On her way to the door, her body underwent a series of changes till she was no longer Pam, but herself, Blur.
“We are done here. Cleansing successful.” Her satisfaction was evident in her voice.
Mimicry quickly collected Blur’s blades and the bullet he had fired earlier, alongside its shell. After that he caught up to Blur, and together they swiftly departed, returning to the hideout.
Five minutes later, the police, who had been notified by one of the scared customers, arrived at the scene. What lay before them could have been attributed to a simple brawl due to alcohol-induced confidence. But this was no shabby bar; it was an esteemed restaurant.
Entering, they noticed the letters, the burnt ivy leaf and the toppled chairs, clueless of what truly transpired here. Overwhelmed by this bizarre situation, they didn't even notice the bullet hole in the ceiling.