Tapia City, Assassination Church.

Archbishop Atley knelt on the ground, deep in prayer. All around him, the chants of his fellow disciples could be heard.

Suddenly, a streak of light descended from the sky as bright as the sun. Atley was stunned.

“Is our Lord descending?” he cried out.

He had never seen the God of Assassination descend in all the years that he had been archbishop.

The God of Assassination’s projection was not particularly bright due to his preference of operating in the shadows. Instead, it began to take form in a relatively shadowy corner of the church, twisting into existence.

“Our Lord!” all of the disciples cried out simultaneously.

The projection solidified, revealing a skinny, dark-skinned man.

Atley crawled towards him deferentially. “My Lord, I am your loyal servant Atley. Your wish is my command!”

The projection ignored him, instead turning its head to glance up at the sky.

Atley didn’t understand what was happening.

Suddenly, two more streaks of light descended from the sky.

More?

Atley was badly startled.

Two more projections took shape.

Atley’s surprise had turned into terror.

The God of Assassination...

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