Hassan comes from a long line of assassins. His family wrought the original Heretic Hunters through the Order of the Assassins, hundreds of years ago, and collectively changed the course of the business of assassination itself.

He never killed for fun. His job wasn't indiscriminate. It wasn't even a job, in all honestly. He could not be swayed by money nor position or power. His was a duty. Everything he did, everyone he killed, it was his innate duty to the ideals of good.

And so, he gazed and examined and investigated. He watched Alexander Lane.

He was a devil, one that must be put down for the sake of what is right and just.

The boy was walking along a corridor of pale-painted walls and wooden floors. It was only illuminated by wall lamps that stood next to each door, meters and meters apart. He was in the dorm building, on Magecraft Academy ground– Official property of the Union.

What's worse is that his target walked alongside two others, nearly surrounded by them, one brown-haired, the other blond. They were some of the other 'Heavenly Virtues'. But they were not his targets. They had done no wrong in his eyes, and death was not something they deserved.

Hassan carried thirteen weapons. Always thirteen, never more and never less, precisely because it was such an unlucky number, because the number knew brought anything good into the world.

He had always understood that killing wasn't good. It was a simple necessity. If some must die, then let them die at the hands of rightful justice.

Even as he carried this will and this strength in his beliefs, he couldn't deny the deep pleasure that he gained through taking lives. The sight of fear and despair in a person's eyes as their life begins to leave their physical body...

That was ecstasy to him.

And that alone pushed him away from his family. But no matter what happened in life... The joy of fulfilling his duty and purpose was one he could never escape.

As he unsheathed a single dagger from within his cloak, he didn't let out a single sound. Alexander walked two feet ahead of his two friends. If Hassan launched his blade with the right force, the right timing, the right aim, he could send half a foot of steel into the back of Alexander's neck, right through his vertebrae, his brainstem, and every blood vessel and airway all at once.

His lips began to curl into a smile.

And with that, a sudden chill entered the corridor. The three Virtues froze.

Slowly, with the pace of a heartbeat, they each turned and faced the man shrouded in his black cloak. They each fixed their sights on different aspects. All Leonard saw was the thin man in his cloak, a man without much magic energy.

Gabriel saw him as an immediate threat. An attacker from the Golden Dawn, perhaps? Lost in these thoughts, Gabriel paused for a moment. No... He hesitated.

Alexander, on the other hand, had spun with the intention to fight. And as the assassin's blade left his fingertips and ripped through the air in its clear path to Alexander... He took in a sharp breath.

They all understood this man was a threat. And so... They acted.

He dropped to the ground. The dagger whizzed over him, and like a beast in danger, he clawed his way off the floor and charged at the attacker. He burst forth past the others and towards the dark-clad man.

Hassan's smile widened as he hopped a step back and threw a device to the ground. It clattered onto the wooden floorboard and bounced back up, only to crash once again. And with its second impact, a flash of magic energy exploded into the air.

A black mass burst up and spread itself, slamming into each corner, each wall of the hallway.

Alexander didn't need a look to understand. A wall built of magic had appeared behind him, and now another showed up in front, leaving him locked in a space of a couple dozen meters. Now... He was alone, cut off from the others. But none of that mattered.

This man before him was a threat. He had to fight now. If he didn't... What would've happened to the others?

Hassan's hand sat on his hip as Alexander continued his charge. He had barely moved all the while. Well... His hand sat on the hilt of another short blade that, with a blink of an eye, was drawn.

Alexander took in a sharp breath and he tried to move back, to evade. Still, the driving force of the blade sliced through his hoodie, tearing it apart with one clean strike. Had Alexander been just an instant too slow, his insides would've been penetrated and ripped apart all at once.

"Wow..." Hassan spat out, admiring Alexander's reflexes as his black hood fell off of his head. "You're everything they say you are, aren't you? Well... Nice to meet you."

The Demon-Born was afraid.

For most magicians, the force of the body's energy is difficult to control in battle. They tend to be focused on the output, their attacks and defense, rather than the flow within their own bodies. This inherently makes their movements more visible to those who can read such energy.

But within elite combatants, the accuracy of controlling their bodies and energies is simply greater, making it difficult to predict an attack until the moment it is executed.

And although this man didn't seem to have a mass amount of magic energy... He had the same control as an 'elite magician'. A High-Grade.

Alexander swallowed his dry saliva and forced himself to get closer. He couldn't give this guy any space, any range at all. If he did... Well, he'd only be putting himself in more danger.

He had to stay close. He had to limit the assassin's movements. Not only that, but he had to finish this as quickly as possible. That was the only way he could win, he reminded himself as he got himself right before the assassin in an instant, with a quick step forward and his clenched fists.

Even as Alexander pulled his fist back, the assassin's smile remained plastered on his face.

- - - - -

Adam rubbed his weary eyes as he looked up into the sky. Dark and dull clouds had rolled in with thunder, blocking out the blue of the sky and the light of the sun all the while. All he saw was the same grey that shrouded Pendragon.

Even in New York, he could escape such dreary weather.

But to be fair, he told himself, he wouldn't have enjoyed it if it had been clear and sunny.

The phone in his trenchcoat began to vibrate. He quickly pulled it out and saw who it was. Carmen Cortés, calling him for the first time in over a decade.

Adam flipped his phone open and answered the call.

He was met with silence, which he only responded to with a slowed, "...Hello?"

"You told me to call you when I could."

"..." Adam finally remembered with an audible "Oh." He had told Charles to tell Carmen that. And so, he continued with his dull face and spoke, "Well, I wanted to ask about Alexander."

"Ah, that's nice," she muttered, swiveling her desk chair around to face a window. She fell silent and began to wait for Adam to speak.

The man paused and turned his head to the side, looking up to a bright blue and red sign that hovered above him. He stood next to a wooden building, with the scent of cakes and breads lighting the area up.

His obsidian eyes remained fixed on the bright sign as he spoke once again. "Well, I'm outside of a bread store, so-"

Carmen erupted into laughter, creating an annoyance and a disturbance to all her coworkers surrounding her.

Adam only let out a heavy breath and tilted his phone away from his ear to avoid having to hear her boisterous cackling.

It was as if she burst without reason, becoming overcome by nothing more than pure joy. Of course, the case wasn't so simple. She merely continued to laugh until she quieted down into giggles. "Adam... I'm so sorry," she spat out between her chortles. "Y'know, it's just that Alexander calls them bread stores, too. For some reason."

Adam remained confused. "It's a place that sells bread. It's a bread store, Carmen. What else is it supposed to be called?"

"A bakery, Adam."

"...That sounds stupid. I think everyone should call them bread stores."

Another giggle left her lips, just as Adam let out another exasperated breath.

"My question is on whether or not you know what type of bread Alexander likes?"

Carmen's eyebrows furrowed. "Adam. Are you getting bread for Alexander?"

"Yeah," Adam uttered as the clouds above him began to thunder. And with those booming echoes, the rain began. Cold drops drizzled down the sky and onto Adam. He stood unfazed and still speaking into his phone. "I'll probably be there in an hour or so."

Her unawareness turned into a smile. "Well, we're a brioche family, so... You know what to do."

Without giving Adam a moment to speak, she let out another gasp. "This is gonna be the first time Emilia will meet you, then! I have to let her know," she said aloud with a chuckle.

Adam paused, still standing in the middle of the street as the Pendragon sky's drizzle turned into a torrent of hellish rainwater onto him. "Emilia?"

His mind scanned every memory he had and found not a single trace of Emilia. This was awkward, wasn't it?

That's what he asked himself. He may have been a fool at socializing but that was something even he could see.

"Emilia is my daughter, Adam." Carmen rubbed her hand against her forehead. "I know she isn't really related to you, but c'mon, man," she spat out. "This is your son's sister we're talking about."

"I'll be there in an hour," Adam repeated.

Another sigh left Carmen's lips. Even so, her lips curled into a smile. After all, it was her first time seeing her brother-in-law in years. There were all kinds of thoughts and feelings to be had over Adam and his actions and inactions, but for now, all she wanted to do was greet him.

"I'll let Alexander know," she said with her classic grin.

It was at the same time that Gabriel pounded his fist into the wall of pitch-black magic.

This time, he stood on his own.

He had ordered Leonard to get Anastasia. This wall was pure spatial magic. She could bring it down with ease. And if Alexander were to get hurt... Only she could take him to be healed. Anastasia Velda was needed in this case.

But he couldn't afford to lose focus. He had to stay fixated on this. He had to get through.

When it comes to most opponents, any of the Virtues could simply sense magic energy. Alexander and Gabriel could see the image of translucence, the refraction of light upon the dense magic. A simple reflection of power.

But this man... Whoever he was... He had none. There was magic to be sensed, only with Gabriel's momentary focus. But without that fixation, without time, without his other senses, it was as if the assassin didn't exist.

He had almost no presence.

That terrified him. And he knew it terrified Alexander just as much. But the only reason he fought alone was because of Gabriel's hesitance.

If he had just been faster... If he had been better or stronger... If he disregarded his fear for just a moment... Those were the thoughts that already filled his head. It was already his fault.

But that just fueled him even further, gritting his teeth in rage for each of his energy-dense impacts onto the black wall. Ripples and waves exploded through the magic, little by little wearing it down.

This battle was one of pure and simple power. Whoever's attack could strike true, whoever could be lethal to the other first... They would be the victor.

Alexander's leg had swept under Hassan and knocked him to the ground. He fell back, and even before he impacted the wooden floor, Alexander's clenched fist rained above him. It was glowing with the density of magic energy, glimmering within the fluorescent lights above them like a circulating cloud of smoke.

That one hit would do more than break a nose. It would crush his very skull if he wasn't careless.

But ever since birth, 'careless' was something Hassan never was. He slid his head and body out, leaving Alexander's fist the crash into the wood and blast it apart to dust. Now it was Hassan who was up and Alexander who was down.

It was the Demon-Born who was careless.

Another knife was in Hassan's hand. He drove it into Alexander's calf. And again in his thigh. And again, stabbing and pummeling the steel into his muscle, until the Demon-Born swung his free fist into Hassan's face.

Alexander was weaker. He recoiled automatically.

And with the devil in such a position... A thin knife fell from his cloak, down his sleeve and into his palm.

'Wait a second...' Alexander's thoughts rushed.

The small dagger in his hands shifted, growing wider and longer into a full blade of silver steel and a golden hilt. Hassan pulled it back and coiled his other hand around him.

'Wait!' Alexander's heart screamed out.

Before Alexander could move or act... The assassin plunged his blade into Alexander's chest.

'...Wait,' his thoughts repeated.

That was all that was needed. That thin impact of cold steel was all it took, all it took to drain nearly every ounce of energy and strength in Alexander. All he could do was stare, stare with his open jaw and widened eyes at the metal blade that impaled his heart.

Time seemed to slow with each of his thumping heartbeats, even with the heavy breathing of his assassin. All his body could feel, all it focused on was the ice-cold metal inside his chest, the blade that sliced into his heart.

He was already bleeding from his wounds, but now the blood inside his body surged. His pale shirt was soaking in blood, with the same crimson fluid that forced its way to his mouth and through his teeth.

More blood.

It dripped down his mouth and flowed down his chest. With each of his slowing heartbeats, the pain that burned inside him only grew.

He slowly looked up at the assassin, more and more blood leaking through his teeth. Even through his masked face, Alexander could tell. He was smiling. Smiling, as he plunged his sword into Alexander's chest. And still smiling as the Demon-Born's very life began to slip away with his loss of blood.

'Am I going to die?... Is this the end?... Here?'

That was the only concentrated thought of his amidst his internal shouts and cries of panic.

Another of Gabriel's impacts rang out into the wall of magic. More trembling and shaking echoed into the corridor.

And another. Gabriel never let up. It was just like an Enclosed World, reinforced from within, yet vulnerable from the outside.

And another, until his pale fist crashed through the wall of darkness. Glass-like shards of black burst out into the magic-dense air as Gabriel jumped through. He had burst past the rest of the wall and dashed at the assassin.

Gabriel was running freely. He didn't have Excalibur in his hands; he didn't have Avalon on his hips. He only had himself, his bare hands to attack.

And amidst that moment of Hassan's confusion and Gabriel's intrusion, the boy's fist crashed into the assassin's chest. The impact rang out as a hollow thud that reeled the man back.

But not by much. He remained on his feet– He remained smiling.

"You're interesting..." he uttered aloud, unknown to himself. "Gabriel Archibald, the golden boy..." his voice continued to ring out.

"But it's not in either of our interests to fight here."

His eyes once again swirled with his manic smile, before he hopped off the ground. And as soon as his feet hovered in the air, a ripple of light burst from his body, leaving him to disappear as untraceable as he had arrived.

The air once again shifted.

And the cold in the corridor began to disappear, and all there was... was the warmth and the stench of blood. The stench of rotten fish and rusted iron.

Gabriel's eyes widened, and he swallowed his dry saliva, the instant his eyes met Alexander's. His azure eyes began to tremble, quiver, and well up with tears as his focus and his mind became fixed on that sight.

Because it wasn't just a sight. It wasn't an image or a vision. It was reality, a truth he never could've guessed he would see. Alexander Lane, dying before him, impaled by another human.

Alexander's legs had already failed to support him. His back was pressed against the wooden wall as his knees began to buckle. He clenched his jaw and grabbed the sword by its blade, cutting his hands as he gripped it, all to pull it out from the wall and from his chest.

A deep breath forced itself through his mouth as the sword exited his body. And as he stood, flattened against the wall, he slid down the wooden panel and dropped to the floor.

An empty clatter rang out as the bloodied blade impacted onto the wood. Blood pooled and trailed on the wall as he fell.

Gabriel could only stand still and silently stare at his fallen friend as he sat there, struggling to breathe and struggling to keep his eyes open. Struggling to stay alive.

"Alexander..." Gabriel finally said. He rushed down to his side and kneeled before him. "You're gonna be okay. Understand? Just hold on. Hold on, okay? Anastasia's on her way so just-"

Alexander coughed, more blood coming with his wheezing. "Shut up for a minute, Gabriel."

Alexander judged he wouldn't live past the following minute, regardless of what came next. And that's what he said. "I'm dying. Can't be healed at this rate. So... Yeah."

Gabriel's icy blue eyes were twisted. The emotions that strained his heart, that gripped his soul and squeezed his brain into his skull- Fear, rage, grief, they had all set in. There was nothing to be done. He grit his teeth.

Alexander's gaze fell unto his hands, just as he slowly began to raise them, despite the shaking of his bones and the cold of his body. "Look at that," he said to himself, forcing a smile at the view of his crimson and bloodied hands.

He brought his black sleeve to his lips and wiped the blood from his mouth. Even as he dropped his hand back down, even then, more blood dripped down, once again pouring crimson over his chin.

"Are- Are you... scared?" Gabriel asked.

"Me?" Alexander asked. He spoke plainly, "Of course not."

"Help people."

His mother's words once again rang out in his head, just like the clanging of a bell. Alexander cleared his throat, almost choking on the caked blood in his throat. "Help..." he began to mutter. "Help people."

Gabriel stared at him, his distressed face still twisting in fear and confusion.

"You don't have to all the time. But just whenever you can... Help them. After all, it's the duty of those with power to help those without. Right?"

He continued, his words spilling over the leaking blood. "And not just that. Make sure to live a good, long life. You... and everyone else," he said. "I guess that's all I have to say," Alexander said with a thin smile, coughing out a chuckle.

Alexander finally raised his head at Gabriel to meet his friend's teary eyes.

'Right,' Alexander thought. 'I guess I have nothing to worry about. They're all... in good hands.'

"Help people..." he repeated.

For just a second, that smile of his grew. And in the next second...

Another heavy breath forced its way through his split and bloodied lips, before his head drooped over.

It was at that moment that his heart stopped beating. It was at that moment that the final dredges of life left Alexander. It was at that moment...

A pale circle of crackling blue light appeared right beside Gabriel. Just a moment too late.

No, Gabriel told himself. Far too late to begin with.

He let himself fall back, pressing himself against the wall. Now sitting across from Alexander, he dug his head into his hands, leaving his blond curls to droop over and fill the gaps of his fingers as he took in stifled breaths.

"Where's Alexander?!" Anastasia's voice burst out, ringing into the corridor just as she burst through the Connection.

The sound of her feet impacting the wooden floorboards echoed. She froze with that impact, with that sight.

Alexander sat still, beaten and bloodied, and Gabriel sat back, his head in his hands.

"Oh, God," she muttered. "Gabriel... Is he-"

Anastasia took two steps forward, nearing herself to what she hoped wasn't a corpse. But her heart already knew; her fears had come true. She couldn't bear to look into Alexander's eyes, no matter how much she wished to. She couldn't bear to look into his lifelessness.

She fell to her knees, just as Gabriel remained silent to himself, his hand clenching into his fist. He squeezed into his hair as tears began to stream down his pale skin, just as Leonard landed through the Connection.

"Gabriel!" Anastasia shrieked. "What the hell happened here?"

Gabriel let out a heavy breath, dropping his hands and raising his head to face Alexander. The Demon-Born's eyes were already shut. His mind had already blocked out the shouts and cries of Leonard and Anastasia. All he could think, all he could hear, was Alexander's final words, still echoing, still beating.