Inquisitor Vargas strode through the bustling streets of Nexen IV, his breath a mist in the planet's cold, thin atmosphere. The neon lights of Haven City he had landed in reflected off the wet streets, turning the rain-soaked pavement into a shimmering mosaic of color.

His handsome face and black hair was soggy from walking in the rain, but his eyes still looked on ahead to his destination.

Vargas moved through the streets, a dark silhouette against the riot of glowing signs, digital billboards, and holographic advertisements. The city pulsed with life, a throbbing machine that never slept, where the hum of electric energy and the distant thrum of airborne drones and floating cars created a constant symphony of noise

Vargas' dark trench coat, lined with hidden sensors and embedded armor, kept him warm as he weaved through the sea of people. Citizens with cybernetic augmentations jostled around him, their faces illuminated by the glow of their implants—flashing ocular enhancements, sleek metal limbs, and audio receivers humming with the latest data streams. Many had chips embedded in their necks, connected to the local net, their minds half in the real world, half in the endless virtual spaces they frequented.

He turned down an alley, the main street fading behind him as the sounds of the city dimmed to a dull roar. Here, the buildings closed in, their steel walls covered in graffiti—some of it crude, some of it disturbingly artistic. Symbols he had come to recognize from his investigations were scrawled among the tags.

An eye with jagged lines extending outward, a twisted double helix, and phrases written in dead languages.

His destination was a small diner near the back alleys, far from the main street. He saw the local police force park outside the diner, conducting their own investigation to what had occurred nearly a week ago

Vargas paused in the shadows, his sharp eyes scanning the scene outside the diner. The local police—six officers in standard issue exo-armor—stood huddled near the entrance, their helmets reflecting the neon glow of the nearby signs. They were speaking in low voices, exchanging data through their visors, oblivious to the dark figure watching them from the alley. Their presence wasn't unexpected, but it was inconvenient.

Vargas meticulously walked up to the officers, ready to introduce himself. The police took notice of the figure approaching, recognizing the iconic uniform, they immediately lined up in formation and saluted him.

"Sir Inquisitor! It is an honor to have you here", one of the members spoke up, a woman.

"At ease", Vargas raised his hand, indicating to relax. The police immediately broke formation, and one of the members, the woman who had greeted him, walked to the inquisitor.

"Sir Inquisitor…"

"Call me Vargas, Inquisitor Vargas. Now, miss can you give me a brief recap of what happened here", he spoke, examining the diner. The lights inside had been shut down, preventing him from seeing anything. The windows had been shattered and the neon signs which advertised the restaurant had been destroyed. Yellow police tape surrounded the diner, warning citizens to stay away.

The policewoman straightened as Inquisitor Vargas addressed her, her tone growing somber as she recounted the events.

"Of course, Inquisitor Vargas," she began, glancing at the diner with a mixture of apprehension and disgust. "About a week ago, we got a report of a disturbance here, initially thought to be a case of gang violence or some sort of malfunction in one of the patrons' augmentations. But when we arrived on the scene, it was far worse."

She gestured toward the shattered windows and the darkened interior of the diner. "Witnesses say that an individual entered the diner, appearing to be just another traveler—human, male, mid-thirties, nothing out of the ordinary. They ordered a meal, sat down, and everything seemed perfectly normal. But as they ate, something happened—something none of the civilians could fully explain. Some described it as a glitch in the air around him, like a distortion, others said it was like his skin... flickered, for just a moment."

Vargas listened closely, his sharp gaze never leaving the officer's face. "And what caused the flicker? What happened next?"

The woman paused, her voice dropping lower. "We're not sure what triggered it, but from what we've gathered, the individual's disguise, whatever tech or biological masking they were using, failed. Their face apparently started shifting, revealing… something underneath. Witnesses say their skin peeled away in patches, exposing a hideous, alien face. The man—or rather, the creature—panicked when the other patrons started reacting. His eyes turned black, limbs elongated, and a scream—one that shattered the glass and shorted out nearby electronics—ripped through the diner."

She shuddered at the thought and continued, "The alien attacked the moment it was exposed. It killed everyone in the diner within minutes. Civilians, staff—no one survived. By the time we got here, the place was already covered in blood, and the creature was gone. We've been trying to figure out where it went, but there have been no confirmed sightings since."

Vargas frowned, his sharp mind analyzing the details. "How did it kill the patrons?"

"Slicing, primarily," she replied, her face darkening. "Witnesses who managed to flee before the attack said it used its elongated limbs— sharp, whip-like appendages. It moved faster than any human could react, and its strength… Well, the bodies were barely recognizable. It tore them apart."

"I see", Vargas affirmed, thinking about the details that the policewoman had just explained to him. "Are you sure it was an alien, not a mutant?"

The policewoman shook her head, "We found no carbon traces where the suspect was seated, there were high levels of silicon present."

Silicon?, Vargas pulled out a small tablet from his trench coat pocket. He turned it on, swiping to documents he had downloaded onto the device. He quickly scrolled through the information, before stopping at a particular page.

He displayed the tablet to the policewoman. On it was a photograph of a humanoid alien. It was wearing a long cloak hiding its body with the exception of its face. It possessed four eyes, and a mouth that stretched across its face, revealing jagged teeth. It possessed white hair that was tied up into a ponytail.

"Yes! That's what it looked like according to the witnesses", the policewoman confirmed after studying the image.

"Hmm, it's a Xalanthal, a silicon-based lifeform. No active treaty between the empire and their civilization so they are considered hostile. They possess two arms with opposable thumbs, and two stretchable appendages coming from their torso with long, sharp nails growing out at the end", Vargas read more of the information that had been collected of the alien, verifying if the information was accurate to the crime scene.

The policewoman nodded her head confirming all the information.

Vargas shut off and put the tablet away. "Miss, I would like to examine the actual crime scene, please".

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Yes, inquisitor Vargas", the policewoman led him to the tape, which he stretched up to allow Vargas to enter the diner.

The once-vibrant decor, with its chrome and red vinyl booths, was now a wreckage of shattered glass, broken furniture, and splattered blood. Tables had been upended, their surfaces scarred and slashed as though they'd been struck by something impossibly sharp and powerful. The counters were stained with dark, drying pools of blood that had dripped down to the tiled floors below, creating a ghastly trail that led toward the door. Plates of half-eaten food were left abandoned on the tables, some shattered, their contents mingled with the blood that coated everything.

Vargas stepped further in, his boots making soft, wet sounds as they touched the sticky floor. The faint scent of burnt circuitry hung in the air, mixing with the acrid stench of blood.

"Hmm", Vargas hummed as he looked around the dilapidated restaurant.

"We left the crime scene as is, nothing has been altered", the policewoman, who had followed Vargas, explained.

"I am checking for any magical residuals"

"Yes sir, that will be alright" the policewoman accepted, she immediately tensed up and looked at Vargas with a hint of suspicion.

Vargas closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He slowly opened them, revealing his black pupils breaking apart. His cornea was filled with a dark, violet with swirls of blue instead of white. The policewoman felt the air around the inquisitor turn malignant with an unknown power, as goosebumps ran up her arms.

She stepped back in fear, her fingers subconsciously resting on the Helix pistol that was holstered to her waist.

The inquisitor scanned the diner with his purple eyes. The dark interior revealed to him a plethora of color, constantly shifting and changing. Mundane white seeped out from the nonliving objects, and malicious violet pooled out from the blood stains.

He took a glance at the policewoman. Her body was covered in blue with a line of ghastly yellow.

A hint of fear, but otherwise normal, Vargas concluded.

From the corner of his eyes, Vargas noticed strange figures in a black, ominous color starting to form. He ignored them, and continued his search to the counter where the suspect was seated.

Vargas approached the counter, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the suspect's seat. The booth, once a standard diner setup, was now a disturbing focal point of the room. The vinyl seat had been torn, jagged rips exposing the foam underneath.

Through his eyes, Vargas saw a thick cloud of dark violet, almost black, apparating in the air.

An awakened? The suspect is an awakened Xanathal, Vargas concluded.

In front of the seat, on the counter top a symbol carved into the wood.

An eye with jagged lines extending outward, a twisted double helix, and phrases written in dead languages.

The same symbol that was painted near the diner.

Vargas pulled out his tablet, shining a light on the symbol. He opened up the camera on the tablet, taking a snap of the symbol.

Believing he had obtained all the evidence he needed, the purple in his eyes receded restoring its original color, and his pupil reformed itself at the center of his cornea.

He turned to the policewoman, "My investigation is over. I will search for the subject, you and your men can return to the station and file the case to Inquisitor Raul Vargas.

The policewoman nodded, hurriedly retreating outside, free from the oppressive atmosphere in the diner. Vargas followed out soon after, witnessing the police force board their transport and leave the site.

Vargas was now the only person in the area, free to continue his investigation without any interference.

He turned back to the dilapidated diner, imagining where the Xanathal could have fled to.

If I was an awakened Xanathal trying to escape the soon-to-be arriving police and inquisitorial forces, where would I go?

Of course I still had business on this planet, so the space port is out of the question.

Why did its mask fail?

Vargas walked to where the mysterious symbol was painted on the wall.

A new cabal, perhaps?, he wondered, carefully scrutinizing the symbol. It was a new one, not anything he had studied in the school or under his former master.

They are not being aided by a god or the Cataclysma. This must be a small group of aliens, I should hurry before something bad happens here.

Vargas turned his eyes purple, again.

If it left a trail in the diner, it must still be a novice. The alien does not know how to use [hide], yet.

Affirming his conclusions, Vargas saw the violet-black vapor trailing above the diner to the rooftop of a nearby building.

Vargas inhaled in, emanating the same violet-black aura from his own body. Vargas inhaled deeply, his chest rising as he channeled the violet-black energy coursing through him to his legs. The aura snaked through his muscles, giving him newfound strength. His eyes locked onto the vapor trail rising above the diner, snaking through the air like a living thing.

Vargas jumped off the ground, leaping to the top of the diner in a single bound.

The alien was sloppy, leaving behind such an obvious trace. A novice, indeed. Whatever this new cabal was, they lacked the discipline of the more ancient alien orders Vargas had faced in the past. But that didn't mean they weren't dangerous.

He followed the ethereal trail, leaping across buildings at an inhuman speed. In under half a minute he had already crossed 3 kilometers to where the trail ended.

The building was an old industrial tower, one of the many forgotten structures that loomed over the lower sectors of Haven City. Its steel walls were rusted, and the faint glow of malfunctioning signs flickered weakly near its entrance. Above, the rooftop was shrouded in darkness, the vapor trail now more distinct as it coiled like a beacon, leading him to his quarry.

Vargas reabsorbed the aura in his legs back into his body and restored his eyes, making him appear to be a normal person.

He entered the building, where a small campsite had been set up. A fireplace was place at the center of the ground floor, still smoldering with ash.

It's still here.

He carefully trekked up the stairs making sure not to make a single sound so as not to disturb the building's resident.

There, standing near the edge of the building on the roof, was the suspect.

It hadn't sensed him yet. Its tall, gangly form was cloaked in tattered black robes, its skin a sickly red, shimmering faintly in the neon light. The creature was humanoid, but with elongated limbs and sharp, angular features that made it clear it was not of this world. Its head turned slightly, its thin nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air, still unaware of Vargas' presence.

Vargas crouched low, his eyes narrowing as he observed the creature's nervous movements. The rain pattered softly around them, and the neon lights of the city below cast an eerie glow on the rooftop. His instincts were sharp, and every twitch of the alien's fingers confirmed his suspicions—it was scared, inexperienced, and desperate.

Vargas reached to his backside, grabbing his Helix Repeater MK V, the standard weapon for the inquisitors.

The creature's eyes darted around, its long fingers tapping anxiously against the small communicator in its hand. It was trying to summon backup, trying to make contact with the rest of its cabal, but Vargas wasn't going to give it the chance.

In one fluid motion, Vargas drew the Helix Repeater, its sleek black form gleaming faintly in the dim light. The soft hum of the weapon's solar cell activated as his fingers curled around the trigger, syncing the gun to his biometric signature. He adjusted his stance, the Cyclonic Disperser at the barrel's end rotating with a quiet click as it primed itself for a plasma round.

He carefully aimed the weapon, plasma rounds were powerful and could be shot from a long range but it would drain the battery on the gun with a single shot.

Determining he was in a good angle, Vargas took the shot.

Boom!

At near the speed of light, a crack of blue light exploded from the Helix Repeater, the plasma round slicing through the air with a high-pitched whine.

Whee!

The alien could barely turn its head around, before the plasma found its mark. It hit the communicator dead on, the device sparking and fizzling out in a burst of electrical energy, leaving the alien stunned, its forearm completely mangled from the impact.

The creature screeched in pain, its elongated limbs flailing as destroyed pieces of flesh fell from its arm. It staggered back, clutching its wound, the fear in its eyes now fully exposed.

Vargas stood slowly, the Helix Repeater still aimed squarely at the creature."I won't ask again. Who are you working for?"

The alien snarled, but its bravado was fading fast. Its aura flickered weakly, and it cast a glance toward the edge of the rooftop, no doubt considering whether to flee.

"You won't make it," Vargas said, reading the creature's thoughts. "This is your last chance."

The alien, panting and cornered, slowly lowered itself into a crouch, its gaze darting between the inquisitor and the street below. Finally, with a trembling voice, it rasped, "You… you don't understand. They're already coming. You're too late. The Entil shall return".

Vargas didn't flinch. "The Entil are already dead. The federation made sure of it."

The alien opened its elongated mouth, its aura flared as a heated fireball began to emanate from its opened mouth, readying to attack.

In a split-second, Vargas flared his own aura and emitted a lightning bolt from his fingers, piercing the head in a single shot.

The alien's head exploded, splashing viscous yellow blood on Vargas' armor and the surrounding area.

"Disgusting", Vargas grimaced, staring at his stained armor.