One o'clock AM.

A time like any other, it was a time that was most quiet. One brought forth by the coming of night and the shrouding of its abyssal cape over the city, it was needless to say therefore, that many people were asleep. Tucked in their beds, dreaming no doubt about their past, present or future, it was a night like any other.

A night filled with the silent cries and anguish of death.

From the get-go, the city of Greyville was far from what one would discern to be normal. Indeed, throughout its time as a existence and concept, much of its history had been tainted by which people refer to as 'abnormalities.' Monsters, demons, and mages all alike, who dwell there for reasons unknown, all make their claims.

One of those very people who participated in such claims was none other than a single figure. A figure possessing of a face, body and features yet unknown, it was a figure that just so happened to be on one of their nightly excursions.

Humming gently to themselves, one could see that they were evidently enjoying the cold chill that was winter. Even going as far as to wear a piece of fabric that revealed their midriff, as to take in all the air that they could, it was a most bizarre sight. To make matters worse, this person also happened to be prancing, skipping a meter with each step, and even pairing it with the occasional twirl.

Can you believe then that this wasn't even the oddest thing about them? Far from it, actually. For their way of movement and choice of clothing were traits that could simply be attributed to a maniac—a delusional person, perhaps addled by drugs or disease.

But their eyes? What explanation could there have been for those? A sphere of radiant luminescence, embedded with a pattern of more than a millennium years of age, they were undoubtedly unnatural. The products of that which is foreign. Something beyond the acquisition of mere man, it was the product of the abnormality, otherwise known as 'Magic'. Harbouring its own unique system of logic and principles, magic was in truth, much like a science. A craft with its own fields and branches, there were an untold amount of practitioners and specialities.

It can thereby be said that the person who was prancing was a 'magician.' A magician with one purpose and one goal alone, and that was to fulfil their mission. The objective of their mission located in the nearby park, there was around a minute or so before they would arrive. So, in expectance of it, the magician breathed a sigh of relief.

Following the trail of blood and constant screams that echoed without end, the odd magician closed their eyes and took these sensations in.

Magic sure was convenient. Capable of summoning lightning, meteors, or the very will of gods themselves, it just so happened that a most convenient spell was at play. One capable of isolating and reducing the presence of bystanders, the magician was thankful that they could avoid any

Being able to subdue the cries of their victim through a simple touch of an object and incantation was awfully great. Now that the matter of attracting attention had been solved, the magician had all the time in the world.

All the time in the world to play, torment, and amuse themselves with their prey without anyone as much as interfering.

"What a lovely evening."

Thud. Their footstep caressed the concrete entrance of the park. Placed right atop a trail of blood, the magician followed it. No sooner than three steps did they find its end.

Stopped at the about to be corpse of a man charred black and burnt all across his body, the magician's victim no longer made an effort to speak as much as a gurgle.

Lowering their body, the magician squatted down. Putting themselves on the same eye level as their victim, they took a second to gauge their target.

"Yep, you're pretty much dead, alright." They commented with a shred of interest, as one would to a particularly rare bird or sight. Then, taking a deep breath, the magician sat themselves right next to their target. Positioned comfortably against a firm wall of greenery, the magician reached into their pocket and took out a cigarette. Scratching their head with one hand, they lit up the cigarette with the other.

"Do you know why it is you're going to die here today?"

Looking emptily into the distance, they did not answer.

"It's because of fate. But you know, not the divine bullshit fate that says everything's ordained by some god, but the fate of circumstance, so to speak."

They took another inhale of their cigarette.

"You see when you think about it. Every single thing that you did in your life eventually amounted to me killing you. And by everything, I really mean it. You know that shit you took in your diaper when you were three? Even that, as stupid as it sounds, even the slightest little details can affect the grandest of things."

The magician, who was now quite engaged in their own little monologue, stared into the vast sky.

"And, I think it's beautiful. The fact that all these insignificant little details, eventually built up to me getting to kill you, is just wow. You know, I'm not one for literature or great poetics, but honestly, thanks."

Inhaling one last puff of their cigarette, they then tossed it into the nearby bin. As unfortunate as it were, the impacts of their little dialogue's had been mostly lost. Replied only with the occasional weep and whine of pain, there wasn't much to be done.

Offering one last solemn look and prayer to their victim, they sighed. By the end of their monologue, their target had succumbed to their wounds and perished. Short and fleeting as it were, though, the magician cherished every last second of it. No matter how brief their time together might have been, it was of little consequence.

The next instant, the magician brought out a small leather bounded notebook from the jacket. Straightening their back, they then proceeded to write down a series of notes before shutting it. Finished with the task at hand, their voice then called out for their partner.

"Job's done, sweet cheeks. You can come out now."

Rustles emerged from a nearby bush before a figure came out of it.

"Alrighty, then." Replying in a soft but firm tone, the magician's partner then approached. "For a guy who talked a lot of shit, he sure didn't have much to back it up."

Smiling deviously, the figure, of whom were several heads shorter, spat on the corpse. Only to then be flicked in the head.

"Hey. Remember what I said about disrespecting the dead?"

Recoiling from both shame and humility alike, the shorter figure turned away from their partner.

"Yeah yeah, sorry, just force of habit."

Displeased, the magician put on a sly smile. Held a sigh of perceived reluctance, then, without warning, picked their partner up. At a loss for words, flashes of previous happen fluttered in their mind. Without hope and completely in despair, they then accepted their fate. Spun in the air, all while their carrier rotated like a ballerina, was more than enough to make them relent.

Two minutes of what seemed to be endless torture accompanied by juvenile yells then came to a close. Settled down, the two now sat next to each other on a lonely metal bench. A much-needed break from all that happened today, it gave more than ample time for the magician's partner to check their phone.

On a website that was inaccessible to the majority, the figure had unwittingly stumbled across a video clip that was most peculiar. A sight most exquisite, they held the delight of witnessing it for themselves, for all but a few seconds.

"Whatcha looking at there?"

As expected, the intrepid magician, who could not contain their curiosity, peered over their partner's shoulder. Much to their amusement, what they saw on the screen was not some disinteresting drivel or news article, but something else entirely. A product of an untamed beast, so to speak, it was, in essence, a simple video. A simple video of movie quality resolution in some downtown area of town of some dingy fight ring. A simple video of a woman in her late twenties who jumped over two meters into said fight ring. And a simple video, compounded by her summoning a holographic menu before pounding on some poor bastards body while smiling.

"Hoho, well well well, seems to me like she's having a lot of fun. I'm jealous."

The magician remarked, their arm wrapped around their partner.

"Seems so. Guess you two have something in common then."

Holding their words back, the magician supposed their partner wasn't wrong.

"Well, do you think they're the one?"

Hand wrapped around the back of their own neck, the magician thought for a moment. And deciding upon an answer, rose from the bench.

"Maybe, maybe not. Even so, it doesn't really matter." Saying that with a subdued passion, the magician felt the blood in their heart pump. Earnestly thrilled at what was to come, the tension within their body had begun to leak into their words. Unable to compose themselves any longer, a most evident glee had spread across their face. "Remember, the bounty said anyone's up for grabs the moment they reveal themselves, right?"

Understanding the implication of this statement, their partner ran to the magician's side and grabbed their hand. Warm to the touch and smooth from the countless callouses that brushed its surface, the duo trudged onwards. Into the middle of the night, where they would rest for the time being, they would begin to make their preparations for the hunt that would transpire the day after.