The two men strolled through the abandoned warehouse with practiced ease, laughing over old jokes and exchanging whispered threats as they inspected their stash. Shadows hung heavy over the neglected crates as rusted metal pipes scattered the space, creating the perfect cover for their illicit business. A bag of heroin, several bundles of cash, and a few packets of ecstasy were stacked neatly on the table between them.

“Hey, you know, Ray,” the larger man drawled, lighting a cigarette and smirking. “This could’ve been us in a penthouse by now if you didn’t blow half of last week’s haul at the casino.”

“Shut it, Travis,” Ray shot back, slapping the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty. Your ex is still calling me for those late alimony payments you keep dodging.”

Their laughter echoed through the halls until they noticed a figure creeping toward them from the shadows. Travis squinted, trying to make out who it was. The newcomer wore tattered clothes, his eyes bloodshot, and his hands trembling. He was a familiar sight around these parts—a hopeless addict, the kind that could usually be dismissed.

“Hey, got anything for a little… taste?” the man stammered, his voice scratchy with desperation.

“Get lost, man,” Ray scoffed, waving him off. “No freebies here.”

But the addict wasn’t backing down. He shuffled closer, his hands darting forward. “C’mon, man, I’ll pay you back later, I swear.”

“I said beat it!” Travis snarled, reaching for his gun.

The addict moved like lightning. In a heartbeat, a glint of metal flashed, and Ray staggered backward, clutching his stomach. Blood seeped through his shirt, his face contorted with shock as he collapsed onto the floor. The addict snatched the drugs and dashed into the depths of the warehouse.

“Ray!” Travis shouted, kneeling beside his partner. Rage overtook him as he grabbed his gun and took off in pursuit. The addict was just a shadow, flitting between columns and debris, and Travis’s curses echoed around him as he gave chase.

The criminal followed the sound of hurried footsteps and harsh breaths down a twisting hallway, deeper and deeper into the heart of the warehouse. Suddenly, the scuff of feet faded, replaced by an eerie silence. But there, on the floor, was a trail of blood. The addict’s trail.

“What the fuck? C’mon, you junkie bastard. Where the fuck are you?” Travis growled, more to steady himself than anything else. But as he followed the blood trail, his bravado began to fade. The surrounding silence became oppressive, almost tangible, and his heart pounded as the bloodstains led him to a horrific sight.

The addict lay sprawled out in the open, his body mauled and half-eaten, the drugs still clutched in his hands. His face was frozen in a silent scream, eyes wide with terror.

A strangled gasp escaped Travis’s lips, and he stumbled back, nearly dropping his gun. He turned to run, every instinct telling him to get as far away as possible, but a figure emerged from the shadows behind him—a tall, looming silhouette that seemed to blend with the darkness itself. It moved silently, each step bringing it closer, revealing pale, stretched limbs and hollow eyes that bore into him.

“W-wait! Stay back!” Travis stammered, raising his gun, but his voice was barely a whisper against the dread that gripped him.

The figure took one step forward, then another, silent and inevitable. Travis fired, the shot echoing through the warehouse, but the creature flickered out of sight before the bullet could connect. The next moment, it was behind him, its cold breath against his neck.

A scream echoed through the warehouse, only to be swallowed by the darkness.

Leo wiped the blood from his mouth, staring dispassionately at the empty shell of what had once been a man. The echoes of Travis’s final scream faded, leaving only silence. Leo felt nothing but a faint sense of satisfaction. These were criminals, parasites of society who destroyed lives for profit. Their deaths wouldn’t be mourned, he reasoned.

Still, something clung to him, a weight settling in his mind as he swallowed down their flesh. The memories of their lives—years of mistakes, pain, and fleeting joy—flickered through his mind, a cascade of emotions that didn’t belong to him. It was like looking through a cracked lens, fragments that made him question whose mind he truly possessed. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories that sought to root themselves deeper into his mind.

The next morning, Leo woke up to the sound of a large vehicle parked right outside of his home. Outside the warehouse, he spotted figures moving methodically around his territory. He tensed, assuming they were more lowlifes—but then his eyes narrowed as he recognized the words on the SUV.

CLEANER.

Leo’s mind raced. How did they know to investigate here? He had buried the bodies well enough, hid the deeper pits where the fiend carcass rotted, but now Cleaners were picking through the grounds. And what would he do now? Tell them to leave? He would look awfully suspicious.

Hidden in the shadows, he edged closer, listening carefully.

“Alright, rumors say there’s a fiend in the warehouse. I need you two to move in and investigate. Stay on your guard and don’t split up. Even a Delta fiend can take out a lone cleaner.” one of the Cleaners commanded. The other Cleaners followed his command and began to move. Another cleaner crouched near a patch of disturbed dirt. “There’s blood here. Probably a day or two ago. Could have been a fiend.”

Another Cleaner nodded, glancing around. “Guess the anonymous tip was right on the money. Let’s hope we can exterminate it before it becomes a bigger issue.”

Anonymous tip? Leo’s fists clenched. Someone had tipped them off, and now they were stomping all over his space, assuming he was some case study. He could feel the urge rising to silence them all, but he held himself back.

Leo heard footsteps entering the warehouse, echoing across the large halls. Leo could easily take them out, but he knew better. Killing the Cleaners would only mean more trouble. Feeling the tension mounting, he decided to slip out through a window while invisible and then transform to stay inconspicuous as a human. He headed into town, hoping the grocery store might provide him with some relief, a semblance of normality amidst the chaos.

The SaveMart was quiet, the sterile lighting casting a cold glow over the aisles. Leo drifted between the shelves, examining the rows of meat—pork, beef, chicken—anything to stave off the hunger gnawing at him. He reached for a package of ground beef when he noticed someone standing at the end of the aisle.

The figure wore a tattered black hoodie and dirty sweatpants, but his unsettling gaze pierced through the space between them. Beneath his hood, his face was a strange, almost grotesque mixture of human and fiend, veins tracing a network under his unnaturally pale skin. His eyes glinted with an unnatural hunger, and his teeth were yellowed and twisted.

“Hello,” the stranger greeted, a thin smile stretching his lips. “Nice to see a new face around here.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”

“Probably not,” the man continued, unfazed. He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “Name’s Tyler. What’s yours?”

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Leo hesitated. His name? He wasn’t sure who this man was, but he looked like trouble. This man was a fiend, too—one who seemed far more entrenched in their world than Leo had ever been.

“Leo Winfield,” he replied cautiously, testing the waters.

Tyler grinned. “Well, Mr. Winfield” His gaze bore into Leo. “I have been scouting you for some time now, ever since our previous associate was eliminated. By you.” Leo felt like this would mean big trouble for him. Did Tyler want vengeance for killing one of those fiends? Leo thought they were all weak and unintelligent, but maybe he accidentally stepped into something bigger than he thought.

“What do you want?” Leo replied, cautiously preparing himself.

Tyler’s smile widened as he leaned in, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement. “Oh, I see. Don’t worry, I’m not here to kill you. Our associates are… expendable. I’m just here to give you a proposal. You seem to be well-equipped to navigate dangerous waters, but there are far more dangers in this city than you may think. So how about we get to know each other better? I can introduce you to our organization. Become a member and you can sleep easily at night.”

Leo felt an instinctive revulsion at the offer. He shook his head, his voice steady. “No thanks,” he replied, taking a step back, hoping to put some distance between them.

But before he could fully turn away, he felt a grip—cold, grimy fingers wrapped around his wrist like a vice. Tyler had, in an instant, moved 6 feet towards Leo. Tyler’s hand was surprisingly strong, his touch sending an icy tremor up Leo’s arm. Leo’s body stiffened, and he suppressed the urge to recoil as Tyler leaned in closer. With a flick of his wrist, he slipped a business card into Leo’s palm, something eerily professional for someone who looked so...disheveled.

“Take it. If you ever reconsider, my number is on the card.” Tyler murmured, releasing Leo’s hand.

As Tyler turned to leave, Leo took one last glance at him before he disappeared in an instant. Leo wasn’t sure if he blinked, but he was gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared.

The interaction left Leo shaken. He bought his groceries and made his way back to the warehouse, only to find the Cleaners digging in the very spots where he had hidden the bodies. Their voices carried over the distance.

“Shit. You think another fiend did this?” one of them asked, prodding at the ground. “They are pretty territorial. Just hope the forest fiends aren’t starting to come into the city. Hod squad must got the biggest balls patrolling that damned forest.”

Leo decided to turn back, but his growing anxiety was obvious enough for the Cleaners to notice him.

One of them approached him, squinting as he looked Leo over. “Hey, you! What the hell are you doing here? It’s off limits.” The Cleaner walked closer, his gaze darting to Leo’s grocery bags and then to his face. The man stared closely at Leo. He was trained to tell humans apart from fiends, and in that instant, alarms started to blare in his head. The man attempted to stay calm, but Leo could hear his heartbeat getting faster. “What are you doing here?”

“No… nothing,” Leo replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I was just curious.”

The Cleaner eyed him for a long moment. “What’s in the bags?” Leo tried to remain calm. “Just groceries. That’s all.” The Cleaner glimpsed over to see only stacks of meat in the bags, his adrenaline starting to rush. He repeated himself, this time with more emphasis. “What’s in the bags?” At that point, Leo knew his cover was blown, and the Cleaner could tell too.

Immediately, the man raised his firearm at Leo, but he slipped out of visibility. The man yelled, “Code Red, Code Red!”. The other Cleaners sprang into action, their movements quick and practiced. Leo could see them adjusting, covering each other’s positions, scanning their surroundings. These were no amateurs—they knew how to work as a team, and it showed.

Leo assessed them. There were two Cleaners positioned at the front of the warehouse, with the commander waiting near the SUV in the open lot. One was at the dig site further out, and the last was stationed just a few steps from where Leo had been standing. Their formation shifted, attempting to close in on him, but they were out of sync for just a moment—enough for Leo to capitalize on. He let his invisibility slip for just an instant, drawing the nearest Cleaner’s attention before disappearing again.

The man hesitated, his weapon raised and shots rang out, but in that single second of distraction, Leo moved. He appeared behind the man and struck, his claws slicing clean through the Cleaner’s neck, ending him in silence. The man’s body slumped, and Leo started sprinting towards the commander.

From across the lot, the commander shouted orders, his voice steady and calm. “Keep moving! Spread out, don’t give him the chance to get close!” He quickly raised his radio and, with a practiced click, called in backup, “We have a confirmed fiend sighting. Requesting immediate support.”

Leo moved toward the commander, sensing the Cleaners’ heightened tension, their calculated movements meant to keep him at a distance. They were adjusting to his invisibility, but Leo knew how to outmaneuver them here—this warehouse was his turf.

He crept closer to the commander, who moved with precision, his eyes scanning Leo’s next attack. Leo suddenly lunged forward, claws extended, but the commander was ready. He twisted, and with a practiced strike, he redirected Leo’s attack, throwing him down with surprising strength. He then fired multiple shots into Leo’s skull, but the bullet wounds recovered in seconds. Leo looked back, watching as the commander quickly signaled the other Cleaners to retreat toward the warehouse. Leo immediately sprang up. This would be their last mistake.

There were four remaining Cleaners in two pairs within the warehouse. One pair was closer to Leo, patrolling through the aisles of crates. They had each other’s backs, sweeping their guns back and forth. Inside, the low light and scattered debris created a perfect cover for Leo. He slipped into the shadows, blending into the pitch-black corners of the space.

They moved cautiously, staying close to each other. Leo waited for the right moment, and then, using the bat fiend’s ability, he sent a slight echo from the far side of the room. One of the Cleaners whipped his gun toward the noise and fired, the shots echoing in the confined space. The other Cleaner swore, turning to see that no one was there. In that brief distraction, Leo leaped, claws cutting through the air as he tore into the one nearest to him. The man didn’t have time to scream; The other could feel his squad mate’s blood splattering on him.

The other Cleaner turned back to fire, but Leo was already gone. He spun around, clearly shaken by the death of his squad mate, he turned to make a beeline back to the exit. But his fear and lack of focus caused him to slip on his mate’s pool of blood, giving Leo an opportunity. Screams echoed through the warehouse as he was torn apart.

The other pair were located further away, hearing the screams of a dying squad mate. They attempted to steel their resolve, but before they could react, Leo dropped the corpse of their fallen comrade right onto one of them, the weight knocking him off balance. He attempted to scramble to his feet, cursing, and just as he raised his gun, Leo struck, his claws slashing through the Cleaner’s chest in one swift motion.

But these guys were tougher than the others. The commander fired at Leo to distract him and the pinned-down Cleaner pulled a knife and stabbed Leo in his eye, blinding him temporarily. Leo convulsed, attempting to pull the knife out, the other two fleeing back to a room and barricading the door. The pain flared through Leo, but his regenerative abilities kicked in, closing the wounds almost as quickly as they were made, and then he vanished.

Inside the room, the last two Cleaners exchanged quick, desperate looks. The commander was already assessing their escape routes. His eyes flicked to the small window at the far end of the room, barely large enough to crawl through.

“Climb out. Now,” the commander barked.

The other Cleaner, although wounded, scrambled to the window, pushing it open. Just as he began to crawl through, sticking his head out, a pale hand shot through the other side, tearing his head clean off, letting his corpse fall back into the room. Leo disappeared once more and suddenly reappeared inside the room with the commander with a cold, furious gaze.

The commander’s face twisted with fury, but there was a glint of resignation. He backed against the wall, raising his firearm with trembling hands. Realizing his fate was sealed, he chose to go out on his own terms. In a final act of defiance, he raised the gun to his temple, a last, bitter glare directed at Leo before he pulled the trigger.

The silence that followed was deafening. Leo straightened, the weight of the battle settling over him. He had never faced Cleaners. It left him more tired than ever before. Fiends were brutal lone hunters, but humans were intelligent and tactical. Consuming their flesh, he felt a flood of their memories and knowledge—a brutal symphony of CQC techniques, counter-fiend tactics, and more.

He absorbed their techniques, their martial arts, their knowledge of firearms and advanced bio-weapons, and their methods of countering fiends like himself. He even learned about the Cleaners’ fiend tiering system, assessing his own strength based on their classifications. He rated himself somewhere around a beta fiend, strong enough to handle most threats, but nowhere near the elite.

And then, amidst the chaos of thoughts, one name burned brightly: Keter Squad. A feeling of familiarity ran through him, yet it wasn’t a nice feeling. It was cold and haunting; A team to avoid at all costs. He’d make sure of it, yet he didn’t know why.

Leo knew he couldn’t stay here any longer. More Cleaners would come, Cleaners that were better equipped and trained. He transformed back to his human, yet not quite human self, running past the meat he had dropped on the floor. He had to think of something, somewhere to go, a temporary refuge. He called Richard and asked if he could stay at his place for a while. Richard sounded hesitant, scared almost, but he agreed.