Lord Of Beasts

Within minutes, most of the black suits dispersed, somehow taking all the unconscious bodies with them. Only a discreet handful lingered, positioned far enough away that they blended into the surrounding streets while still keeping watch over the area.

Or so they thought.

Not long after, a battered old car rattled into view. Its engine sounded like it was moments away from retirement. Ethan heard it coming from a mile away, literally, and he knew exactly whose car it was.

Mark climbed out before even switching it off completely.

And while things had been mostly cleared out, he couldn’t help but notice that something was off. The area was too quiet, and nothing like it had been outside the Black Howl, but even if not for Ethan and Elara, there was nobody outside.

Well, apart from two men dressed like they’re in a spy movie trying to look inconspicuous. It was the opposite of wearing a hoodie to a wedding, and they stood out like sore thumbs.

"What happened now?" he asked while sighing.

Ethan looked over from where he was leaning casually against his new motorcycle, a cigarette hanging lazily from the corner of his mouth.

He took one slow drag and shrugged.

"No idea."

He exhaled towards Elara intentionally to get a rise out of her, knowing she didn’t like it. She slapped him on the shoulder as he laughed at her coughing.

’An A Rank that can’t handle some smoke,’ he laughed even harder as he thought about it.

Then Ethan answered Mark honestly, seeing him being so serious and on edge, understandably considering where they were.

"A bunch of people suddenly decided to take a nap."

He gestured vaguely toward the black suits that weren’t doing a good job of blending in.

"And those idiots turned up to clean them away."

Mark wasn’t sure what to say.

But experience had taught him that asking Ethan questions usually resulted in answers he wished he’d never heard, so he just trusted that he’d dealt with it. Though he gave his friend a look that was crystal clear.

’Don’t get our family roped into your bullshit.’

Ethan nodded subtly, understanding Mark’s silent communication.

Elara looked between the two of them and almost seemed to pout, feeling left out. Noticing that, he put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her in gently. She almost seemed to melt under his arm, smiling uncontrollably.

"I swear my life was so much simpler before you got out," the large man joked.

"Wasn’t it boring, though? And who’s going to live in your basement with the two of us?"

Mark smiled.

After everything he’d heard on the news and spending an entire day worrying whether Ethan had survived, seeing him standing there joking around again made an enormous weight lift from his shoulders.

"We going inside, or what?"

Ethan flicked the cigarette onto the pavement before crushing it beneath his boot.

He walked toward the front door and knocked gently.

Almost instantly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from inside.

The door flew open.

"ETHAN!"

A chorus of relieved voices greeted him all at once.

The warm light spilling from the house contrasted sharply with everything he’d endured over what had felt like months inside the Gate. And for the first time since stepping into that nightmare, he finally felt like he was home.

-

Meanwhile, far beneath the streets of New York, alone hooded figure wandered through the city’s sprawling sewer network. He pinched his nose beneath his hood, his face twisted into a permanent grimace.

"Ugh..."

He kicked aside a floating piece of rubbish.

"This place smells like absolute shit."

He paused for a second before looking around at the grimy tunnel.

"Well, I guess it should. It is a sewer."

The stale air was thick with moisture, while murky water flowed sluggishly through the centre channel. Rats darted between rusted pipes, and the occasional drip echoed through the otherwise empty tunnels.

He sighed dramatically.

"I’ll never get used to this shit. Pun intended, haha!"

A few moments earlier, he’d slipped straight through the ground after escaping Ethan. And the moment he’d vanished from their sight, his appearance had changed entirely.

The scruffy brown hair tucked beneath his hood shifted to jet black. His brown eyes became an icy blue, while his nose, jawline, and even the shape of his face subtly altered. Within seconds, he looked like an entirely different person.

One face among his many.

It was one of the reasons nobody ever managed to track down the elusive man who was traversing the sewers as though he had done so a thousand times before. Unfortunately, these underground tunnels were still the safest way for him to travel unnoticed.

"No cameras, people, or crazy Titled."

He smiled.

"I’ll take the smell."

Still muttering to himself, he reached into his coat and pulled out a phone. After scrolling through a list of contacts, he also made a call, and just like Ethan, the call connected almost immediately.

"You’ve gotta pay me more for watching that dude," he complained before the other side could even speak.

"You warned me he was always hanging around an A Rank, but you never mentioned he was a capable B Rank himself. And you definitely forgot to tell me the A Rank was the Blood Demon."

He shuddered dramatically just thinking about Elara’s crimson eyes.

"They’re both fucking freaks. And they frightened me so much, I told them straight up you were the one paying me to watch them. But even after that, they still looked ready to throw hands."

He scratched the back of his head.

"Actually, they seemed pretty confident they could handle whatever you threw at them."

A grin spread across his face, knowing exactly what he was doing. He was the kind who acted crazy to say what they pleased and conceal his ulterior motives.

"Especially the A Rank, she looked one wrong sentence away from painting the street red."

He rubbed the spot on his stomach where Ethan had punched him, despite not looking particularly injured anymore.

"Oh, and another thing."

He smiled.

"Are you sure you don’t just want me to kill him? I mean, he did kill one of your underlings in front of you at one of your own events. I could just find him while he’s sleeping, and you know..."

He casually drew a finger across his throat.

"...slit it and be done with it."

No reply came from the other end, and the hooded man frowned.

"Hello?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced at the screen.

"Did I even call the right-"

A voice suddenly emerged from the speaker, one utterly devoid of emotion.

"Phantom."

The hooded man’s entire body stiffened, and a cold sweat instantly formed across his back.

"Y-Yes."

For the first time since the call began, there wasn’t the slightest trace of his usual carefree attitude or any more of his jokes.

"You will do exactly as I say."

There was no threat, raised voice, or explanation.

Then the line went dead.

Phantom remained frozen for several long seconds, staring blankly at the silent phone.

Eventually, he let out a slow breath.

"He’s one scary guy, isn’t he? I’m glad I’m on his side."

Even saying it aloud failed to ease the chill running down his spine.

With a helpless sigh, he slipped the phone back into his pocket before placing a hand against the damp concrete wall in front of him. There was no such thing as a dead end for the Phantom, and his body slowly lost substance.

Then, just like a literal phantom, he effortlessly phased through the solid stone.

A moment later, he emerged from the other side, continuing his journey through New York’s endless underground maze.

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