Amon moved silently behind the guards. All of them were too busy restraining the group of seven thugs to notice him. Amon spotted a guard that was about his height, though he was a tad plumper and heavy. He surmised that his uniform would fit decently enough. He was about two meters from the man when he took a big lunge et grabbed the man by the neck. Using his enormous strength, he snapped the man's neck without hesitation and threw his body about five meters to the side to avoid it being stained by the fight that would ensue.

Immediately, the rest of the guards turned around and drew their weapon. However, Amon was still faster than them, and he seized the arm of the man closest to his left. He yanked him down and used his left foot to stomp on his arm, instantly breaking it. The sounds of bone breaking made the thugs, still on the ground and handcuffed, cringe. The man yelled in pain, but Amon did not let him off. He tugged on his broken arm and pulled the man back up just in time for Amon to push the poor guard straight in front of the slash his colleague had intended for Amon. In a flash, the man crumbled to the ground, a wide slash across the chest.

There were still ten guards but the enclosed space made it harder for them to surround him as the alley was only about large enough for three people. Shocked by the fact he had been forced to kill his comrade, the guard didn't react in time when Amon closed in on him and kicked the retractable sword out of his hand. In one motion, Amon grabbed the sword and immediately hardened it.

Another guard charged him from the back, and the rest could only watch in horror as Amon side-stepped the attack and decapitated the man. He then went back to the guard from whom he took the sword and shoved it deep in his stomach. As he wanted to make this quick, Amon simply pushed the body aside and faced the remaining eight guards. By now, fear had gripped their hearts as they knew they had very little chance to survive this encounter.

Amon Slashed down with his full strength and piercing one guard's blocking stance and biting deep into his shoulder. He quickly dislodged the blade, causing a fountain of blood to erupt. He advanced to the next guard who tried a feint, but Amon saw right through it and once again, his sword found its way to through the man's stomach. Seeing their comrade falling like leaves, the remaining six turned around and tried to escape. They knew they couldn't get by him, but if they could flee, they would be safe. However, their thinking was naive. As soon as they escaped, Amon was right on their tail and considering how much faster he was, this chase didn't last long, and the last man had only covered about five meters before being brought down.

From beginning to end, the men had been too shocked to call for help, and the fight only lasted for a few moments. Facing regular humans, Amon didn't need to exert himself. He first checked to see if the man he had singled out for his clothing was still relatively clean and he nodded in satisfaction when he saw there wasn't a drop of blood on him. Amon stripped right then and there and exchanged clothes with the guard. He hung the weapon by his waist and opened the man's wallet. The man's name was Oliver Black. His badge was stuck to the inside of the wallet, and as Amon was putting it away, a small piece of paper fell. When Amon picked it up, he saw that it was a picture of a middle-aged lady cradling two young children. At this sight, he sighed and tossed the picture away. The man could only blame himself for having chosen the wrong side.

Amon was leaving the alleyway when he remembered the thugs that had been arrested by the guards. They had kept very silent, hoping Amon would forget about them and they could live to see another day. Sadly for them, Amon didn't want to leave any witnesses, and he came back, quickly executing the men. By now, the large cracks in the pavements were full of blood, and even Amon's shoes were stained. He picked up his old shirt, still relatively clean and cleaned them up.

Finally satisfied with his appearance, Amon walked out of the alleyway, acting as if nothing happened. He made his way back to the barracks while thinking of a cover story. He couldn't be confident that his story would work, after all, he lacked crucial information about the inner-workings of the city guard, but sadly he didn't have the time nor the manpower to go hunting for that information.

Once he arrived in front of the barrack, he saw the checkpoint at the entrance which was guarded by four individuals. Straightening his clothes, he walked to them and offered them a small nod before trying to enter. Before he could do so, however, the voice of the man of the right closest to him rang out. "Halt! Identify yourself and state your purpose!

The man's powerful voice rang out in Amon's ear as he took out his wallet and delivered the speech he had prepared. For his whole plan to work, the man's whose identity he stole needed to be an unfamiliar figure to the guards he encountered. If any of the four men at the checkpoint knew who this Oliver Black was, then his identity would be busted, and things would get ugly.

" Oliver Black, I discharged for the day and on my way home when I noticed I forgot something in my locker.

As he was talking, Amon took out Oliver's wallet and flashed the badge inside. The guard looked to the man next to him and seeing him nod; he motioned to Amon to enter. Amon nodded once more and proceded inside.

The sight behind the silver walls was something Amon had not expected. A small paved road led to a large courtyard with a gigantic bronze statue in the middle. From the yard, three paths led to different buildings. One was presumably the armoury, one the guards' quarter and the last was the control center. Unsure as to which building was what, Amon slowly advanced to the courtyard. As he got closer to the statue, he realized what it represented. It was the founder of the Order, the commander-in-chief, the most powerful man in the world. His name was unknown to the masses and his likeness hidden. This was mostly done to add a layer of security, but Amon suspected there was another, more nefarious motive. As such, the face of the statue was blank and created an uneasy feeling in Amon.

The commander-in-chief was identifiable by the book he held in his right hand and the sword he carried in his left, symbols of might and knowledge. Amon couldn't help but snicker in disdain at the man he had sworn to take down. Suddenly a voice sneaked on him from behind. Amon was startled and was about to reach for his weapon, but he managed to restrain himself. It would do him no good to pull out his sword at a time like this. "Something funny sergeant Amon?

Amon froze when he heard his name spoken. He was supposed to have the identity of a whole different man right now. He had minimal interactions with others in the time he had been in New-Paris. For someone to recognize him and call him by his name was bizarre. The voice was female, and for it to manage to sneak up to him without him noticing, Amon was shocked.

He composed himself and turned around slowly, but the mask he had constructed on the fly broke apart instantly. Standing before him was a cheekily smiling Ven, the lady he had met in the hotel and had spotted in the fifth district. He was sure she wasn't a part of the city guard, but here she was.

Amon knew that the way he would deal with this situation would determine the success of his mission. If Ven wasn't a military officer, then she had to have contacts that would allow her to infiltrate the military without resorting to the same kind of tactics Amon had used. She also shouldn't be aware that he was part of the Ravens. If her goals required her to infiltrate, maybe an alliance would be possible? With this in mind, Amon smiled and answered: "Sergeant Ven! What a surprise! Is there anything I can do to help you?"