Echoes of the Reaper

The sun had begun to set as Axl and John peered over the edge of the cliff overlooking the compound. They had followed Vincent's group for an entire day before reaching the base, expending very little energy due to the Divine blood in their veins. The compound was surrounded by fences, laced with barbed wire that looked sharp enough to cut stone. The bodies of defectors and those who dared to trespass against the Blazing Stallions hung from poles to ward off potential threats—and to remind the workers what consequences followed failure.

Axl clenched his fist. Only someone truly despicable could commit such horrendous acts.

Axl turned to John. “Alright, I’ll follow Vincent and his lackeys. You take out the rest of the guards. If things go south on my end, I don’t want to worry about any interruptions.”

John looked at him, concern sweeping across his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Axl added.

“Should I be worried about what you’re planning?”

“Not at all! The plan is to bring this man to justice. That’s always been the plan.”

John sighed. “True, but you’re not just out for vengeance anymore. You’ve grown past that.”

Axl loosened his hand and let it rest at his side. “I know, and I appreciate the reminder. Now, shall we catch ourselves a bad guy?”

John nodded and quickly made his way into the compound.

Axl took a deep breath, centering himself. He wasn’t the man from the war anymore. This was justice. He needed to keep a cool head and stick to the plan.

He stepped into the compound, following the trail of unconscious workers John had left in his wake. Winding through dimly lit halls, he kept to the signs marked ‘MAIN’ until they led him up a staircase—straight to a long corridor with a pair of heavy double doors at the end. Axl froze just around the corner as Vincent and his two men neared the doors, staying hidden as he listened in.

Vincent knocked, sweat beading on his forehead. A low growl beckoned them in. Vincent glanced at the others, fear visible. They stepped in, closing the door quickly behind them.

Axl moved closer, placing his ear to the wooden door.

The gang members were babbling about what happened in the city. Their boss silenced them with a single, calm phrase and demanded one of them speak clearly. Vincent stammered out the details: the botched collection, their defeat by a Divine, and that the same Divine said he was coming for the boss.

Silence.

Then: “Did you come straight here after that happened?”

A second later, the sound of wind swept through the room. Thuds. Blood pooling beneath the door.

That was too fast, Axl thought. They were all killed in an instant.

“Are you just gonna keep slinking around in the shadows, or are you coming in?”

Axl stiffened. Had he accidentally made too much noise?

“I won’t wait forever you know.”

Summoned, Axl stepped inside. The office was lavish—dark wooden floors, towering bookshelves, a heavy oak desk.

Vincent and the others were sprawled across the floor, their necks nearly severed.

Behind the desk sat Damien, the leader of the Blazing Stallions.

“Well, if it isn’t the Divine himself. Causing quite the stir, I hear.”

Axl slowly walked in and took a seat.

Damien gritted his teeth. “Don’t remember offerin’ ya a seat.”

“I don’t remember asking, Damien.”

“So ya know who I am.”

“I do.”

Axl’s voice dropped like a hammer.

“And before I rid the town of your stench, I have questions.”

Damien chuckled. “And what makes ya think I’m gonna waste my time answering them?”

Axl narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t a request.”

He blurred forward, but as he reached for Damien, the man’s arm snapped up—too fast to block. A dagger flashed, slicing across Axl’s palm.

Axl staggered back.

A Pseudo, Axl thought. He had that nightmarish procedure done to make him an artificial Divine.

Damien stood, triumphant. “Ya know, I spent most of the war hunting Divine. And with each one I killed, I learned a bit more about how you tick.”

Axl dropped to one knee, his body shutting down. Poison.

Damien lifted Axl’s chin with the dagger. “Don’t you worry, I ain’t gonna kill ya just yet.”

He kicked Axl into the doors. Dazed, Axl tried to move—but nothing responded.

Damien’s fists rained blow after blow.

“Beg for me! Scream for mercy! I want to see the light die in your eyes!”

As Axl’s knees buckled and his vision blurred, something stirred—familiar, but wrong.

A dark force surged through his veins like wildfire. His birthmark ignited, glowing a violent red across his skin. His eyes turned pitch black, swallowing all traces of light.

The poison inside him screamed—then burned away.

Axl caught Damien’s wrist mid-swing. He stood. Growled.

Damien’s smugness turned to terror. “Who… what are you?”

Axl slammed Damien into the ground, punching wildly. Fists cratered the floor around Damien’s head as he desperately tried to dodge.

John burst through the door and moved to pull him off Damien.

“Axl, STOP!”

A lightning-fast backhand caught him across the face, sending him flying across the room.

John staggered to his feet. “You have to stop! This isn’t you!”

Axl stopped, glared at John. “You don’t understand. He hunted my kind for sport! He killed my father!”

Blood dripped from Axl’s knuckles, warm and wet. Damien didn’t move. He couldn’t. Every breath was a wheeze, every twitch another reminder that he was still clinging to life.

Axl stood over him, chest rising and falling in heavy bursts. He raised his arm again, fist clenched—ready to end it.

“That’s enough.”

John’s voice cut through the room.

Axl didn’t move.

“I said that’s enough!” John shouted, stepping closer. “Your pain may have made you–but it doesn’t own you!”

Axl flinched.

John’s voice shook. “You’re no longer the kid who lost everything nor the monster they tried to turn you into.”

His hands trembled as he stepped in front of the broken body. “You told me something back then... when you saved me.”

Axl’s breathing slowed.

“‘We decide our path.’ Remember that?” John’s voice cracked. “You said that to me—when I couldn’t see a way forward. You chose to pull me out of the dark.”

The darkness in Axl’s eyes flickered—just for a moment.

“So let me do the same,” John whispered. “Let me pull you back.”

Axl’s hand dropped to his side.

His whole body trembled.

His knees buckled.

The black in his eyes faded, replaced by the familiar, calm silver that had been buried.

Tears welled at the corners of his eyes. He collapsed.

John caught him before he hit the ground.

“…Welcome back,” he said softly.

Once Axl was back on his feet, the two of them lifted Damien’s limp body and slumped him back into his chair.

His head lolled forward, blood dripping from his mouth. He coughed, then looked up at Axl through one swollen eye.

“That mark…” he rasped. “The Reaper...“They used to whisper that name to scare enemy troops... but I saw the truth. You weren’t a reaper. You were just a kid who stopped caring who lived or died.”

Axl’s fists tightened.

That name again.

He took a step back, jaw clenched, then gave a nod to John.

John reached into a pouch and pulled out a small vial. The liquid inside shimmered faintly—an experimental serum, created for moments like this.

Damien tried to resist, but he was already broken. A few drops under the tongue were enough to dull him further. His eyes glazed over. His limbs slumped.

“Who are you working for?” Axl asked.

Damien’s jaw tensed. “Go to hell…”

John pressed more serum beneath his tongue. The resistance faded.

“Alaric... and Zadicus…”

Axl stepped forward. “What are they planning?”

Damien chuckled weakly, blood on his teeth.

“Rebuilding the stone…” Damien muttered. “Reshaping everything… a new world…”

Axl narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

A flicker passed behind Damien’s expression—something between reverence and amusement.

“To tear it all down,” he slurred. “No more bloodlines. No more thrones. A world where the strong can’t prey on the weak… or so he says.”

Axl stepped closer, eyes locked on his.

“Alaric wants to end oppression, and yet he uses scum like you to do it?”

Damien grinned, teeth stained red.

“He dreams,” he said. “I enforce. Everyone plays their part.”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“You think I enjoy this? Someone has to do the dirty work. Someone has to make them fear the future enough to accept it.”

Axl took a slow breath. “Do you remember a Divine being hunted eleven winters ago?”

There was a pause.

Then something flickered behind Damien’s haze.

Recognition.

And disgust.

“Same mark… weak. Pathetic…” he sneered. “Just like you.”

Damien spit blood on the ground.

“The Reaper, huh… Thought you were supposed to be a monster. All I see is a scared little boy with a famous scar.”

Axl stepped forward. The anger rose again—sharp, brutal, familiar.

But he stopped.

He looked at the wreck of a man before him. This wasn’t some terrifying force of darkness. This was just a coward. A small man with nothing left but poison in his words.

Without another word, Axl bound Damien’s wrists and ankles. Tight. No room for error.

Then he and John lifted him once more and carried him through the night—until the banners of the King’s nearest outpost waved ahead.

They left Damien with the royal guards. No words. No explanations. Just duty.

—

Later, under the still silence of the stars, they stood in the road. The wind was quiet. Cold.

John glanced at him. “How are you holding up?”

Axl didn’t answer right away.

How was he holding up?

Damien still saw him as a monster. The same creature from the war. The same one who didn’t hesitate to kill.

And maybe…

Maybe he wasn’t wrong.

Maybe that part of him was still alive—just waiting for an excuse to crawl back out.

“It felt good,” Axl muttered. “To beat him.”

He paused.

“But it hurt too.”

His eyes lowered.

“The rage… it’s still there. I can’t pretend it’s not.”

John stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “But you didn’t kill him,” he said. “That’s what matters.”

Axl looked at him—silent for a moment—then nodded.

“Let’s go. If they’re rebuilding the power stone…”

He stared toward the dark horizon.

“…the King needs to hear this—before it’s too late.”

And without another word, the two disappeared into the night.