Carl

They clashed again.

A shockwave burst from the center as Jester’s foot met Carl’s blade in midair. Sparks and confetti scattered from the impact like a firework, and the plaza floor cracked beneath them.

Carl slashed again. Jester ducked, twisted, and responded with a punch.

They separated with a flash. Jester landed on one foot, hopping twice like a cartoon character who stubbed their toe.

“Ow ow ow.” He shook his hand, flexing his fingers like they were made of jelly.

Carl’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, not shouting anymore. His voice was low. Too quiet for the battlefield, but loud enough to cut through the distance. “You’re human… aren’t you?”

Jester stopped shaking his hand. The mask tilted slightly, the happy side catching the light.

“True,” he said. Then gave a small spin. “For the fun of it.”

Carl blinked, not sure if he heard right.

“You’re killing soldiers. You’re —”

“Oh, please,” Jester interrupted, flipping into a crouch. “Soldiers? You mean the corporate goons who signed up to guard a death lab?”

Carl didn’t reply.

Jester stood slowly. “You work for MX CORP. Don't pretend you're the hero here.”

The wind shifted.

Jester’s voice lost its playfulness.

“You're kidnapping elves.”

Carl stayed silent.

“Elven-kind have long lifespans. Centuries. Maybe more. And MX CORP…” Jester stepped forward. “What to modify human DNA. Extend life. Create buyers, clients, immortals. Sound familiar?”

“You think you’re righteous?” Carl’s tone cracked.

“I don’t care about righteousness.” Jester shrugged. “I care about chaos. And this?” He waved his arm around. “Is good chaos.”

Carl raised his blade again. “You’ll die.”

Jester tilted his head. “You have no idea how many times I heard that."

Just then, a figure landed behind Jester with no sound. A masked person, smaller, wearing a tight dark outfit with silver patterns that shimmered like moonlight.

“Oh,” Jester said, voice calm and a little tired. “It’s done?”

Jester turned to Carl. “It seems our fun is over. Shame I couldn’t laugh.”

“What ar—?” Carl began.

Crack.

He didn’t even see Jester move. One millisecond he was standing, the next his arms and legs twisted unnaturally, joints popping out with surgical precision.

Carl hit the ground. His blade clanged beside him.

Jester stood over him, card in hand. A joker. Black and red.

He gently placed it on Carl’s chest.

Without another word, Jester and his companion vanished into the nearby warehouse, swallowed by shadow and smoke