A heartbeat broke the settled stillness as white lightning carved cracks across Assassin’s coffin. The split shards expanded like a filling lung, growing away from what now stood inside. They fizzled into pillars of smoke, revealing a familiar person with an unfamiliar form. The others knew it was Assassin, based on height, build, and the fact that he was in the same place. But were they to pass him on the street, they would only stare at this strange interpretation. Abyss covered the contours of his physique, sitting like skin the shade of night. It rose into an exoskeleton upon his chest and arms, emanating billowing light. Leathery wings stretched out from his back, leading down to a long pointed tail moving lazily at his side. And up? An almost familiar visage—eyes burning white; black glass climbing his nose and across his forehead to the horns in his temples. He looked at the others then back at Butcher. The eyes told them he was Assassin too, for even though they only saw fire, they felt the confidence of their friend. Butcher, however, felt something familiar. He felt the presence of death from moments ago, and something from his past. Assassin’s wings beat, and he was in motion—a dark wave sweeping across the ground. Shadows swirled into a dome as he met Butcher’s blade, and visors went to work, filling the dark.

In Gupta’s domain, King asked the only question on his mind. “What is a Dark Name?”

“One of the many breadcrumbs New Dawn followed in this fight with the God Eternal. We don’t know much about it, but the Left-Hand is associated with evil in a lot of religious text. We could not find the origin of this in relation to the battle. We did happen upon a phrase once, though. It translated: Those who bear the Mark of the Beast have no need for humanity. The Dark Burial shall free them of this final deceit.”

“The Dark Burial?”

“Yes. It is a ritual that turns a person into a Devil. Once your friend answers the voice, we can move into Phase 2 of our plan.”

“What’s phase two?”

Gupta looked to the horizon. “For me, it’s when the sunlight fades. For Butcher, it’s when he dies.”

Assassin could see the man holding his blade back. Not just the orange light pouring off, or determination to survive, he could see the soul within, polluted with an orange overgrowth. A bit of Butcher had risen to the surface, but this was still a dead man pretending to be alive. The tragedy of the sight truly hurt Assassin's heart, but it was a testament to the point of his name. He was Assassin, because some things just had to be killed. Kicking himself back, he tossed a sword into the dome above. As it sank to its hilt a rain of blades fell, stopping as the tips touched the floor. He replaced the one he tossed, and his true assault began.

He was lightning-clad in black as a wing beat drove him forward. He carved a part of Butcher’s head away, unraveling into threads as a cleaver swung around. Appearing behind, he split the man down his center. As the body burst and particles swirled, Assassin appeared where they crashed, driving another sword through a newly formed chin. He brought that blade out through the face, swinging another through the body. The particles fled further this time, coming together as blades went in motion. He was Assassin, but he was Shadow too, and shadowy specters wielded his swords. They diced the poor undead man and diced him again as his particles tried to merge. The beads of lights fled a different way, crashing together before they even stopped. Assassin willed himself across the room, moving from shadow to shadow until he was close. His sword whipped the man’s head from his shoulder, and glowing eyes watched the body. Sure enough, it burst, and a lupine jaw rose from beneath, ripping some away. The reformation was violent this time—particles slamming like boulders down a mountainside. The body hit the ground with just as much grace, part of it returned to human flesh. The lupine shadow dropped something in Assassin's hand. It was a translucent black cube, with a cluster of orange inside it. It gave Assassin a quick idea that put a sharp-tooth smile on his face.

Butcher tried to summon new cleavers, but only one came to his hands. He held it tight like flotsam in a stream, terrified of the rapids Assassin became. He was Death, no mistake. He was nightmares, and the end, and the final chance for peace. This young man unearthed fragile mortality, reminding Butcher of who he used to be. Juan at a point; just a security guard who was looking for a job. He hadn't expected anything as big as this. He hadn't gone in to save the world, but after the first day, he couldn’t turn away. He was Juan for most of his life, and then he became Butcher. What was that all for? He tried to remember. He remembered the urgency and desperation of people a lot smarter than him. He knew the threat though because he had a role to play. The threat was...this young man? No, he wouldn't have been alive on that first day. The threat was…? He couldn't remember. He wished Dr. Gupta was here.

In Dr. Gupta’s domain, King stayed with the first question on his mind.

“Why does Butcher have to die?”

“Because you have to die if you want to Revive.”

Butcher charged with all the power he could put into a swing. He couldn’t die yet, the threat hadn’t arrived, and Gupta’s plans depended on that point. He didn’t make it far before three blades swung around, splitting him into three pieces. It felt like something tore beneath his flesh as fangs dug into his particles, pulling more away. He tumbled over corpses as he snapped back together, turning to Assassin in time for a blade to run through his eye. Breaking through the back of his head, it pinned him down as more came stabbing through his body. His particles didn’t even get a chance to flee before the fangs came. His body dropped back to the floor, one eye glowing orange. It looked at Assassin—a procession of shadows standing behind him. His sword awaited above his head, and even through the glowing eyes, Butcher saw pity.

“You were probably a good guy once. Looking around, I can see you did the job well.” Assassin smiled. Butcher looked. There had been so many fights. There had been so many kills. Every last corpse belonged to an Angel here to steal or a Demon here to feed. He cut each of them down, some long after he forgot who he was. He did do good, and while he didn’t want to let Gupta down, he was tired after all this time. “You can finally get some rest though.” This young man was kind. Butcher didn’t even feel it as the blade cut down his body. He didn’t feel the bite of the fangs either.

King asked, “Revive?”

“Amplify: boost your Luminance to a visible level for a short period; increases speed and strength. Maximize: exclusive to Harbingers, resonate with the collected Luminance inside you, fully manifesting your Harbinger form. Revive: Send a signal to your Luminance, killing your human body to revive you as a Lightbearer. Think of it as the Light version of a Dark Burial. The idea was that Harbingers would continue to collect Luminance until they could reach the Revive potential.”

“But if they were to try that after the Advent Ascension, wouldn’t they revive as Gods instead?”

“That’s absolutely right.”

“Doesn’t that mean Butcher will become The God Eternal!”

“Only a fragment of it, but yes.”

“The others don’t know, they won’t be prepared! You have to let me go back and warn them!”

“You can’t. When you arrived, I began the process. The way out will only return when the sun is gone.”

“My friends…”

“I’m sorry. I hope they truly are strong, especially Assassin. The true battle doesn’t begin until two words are said."

“What words?”

Outside the domain, they were spoken by a booming voice from above.

“Luminance Revive.”

The still glowing Luminance band lifted Butcher’s arm from the floor, raising one finger to point at the ceiling. As if it touched something there came a reaction; crystal spikes ruptured the body, exploding into a whirling dust storm. It spun into a humanoid form—body like a nebula with a head of flowing flames. The remaining dust poured like a robe down its body as it stood inches off the floor, with three feet on Assassin’s height.

“To turn thy blade against a Servant of God. Sacrilege. Repent now. Swear thy eternal loyalty.” It glared down at him with four gaseous eyes. Assassin turned to Fang, and turned back.

“Nah. I won’t be doing that. You look nothing like the person I want to swear my eternal loyalty to.” He smirked.

“Then suffer in eternal damnation.” To this Assassin replied with shadows armed and leaping. The Fragment raised its finger, presenting its counterargument with a simple phrase. "Let there be Light." And there was, a wave of it pushing out, tearing the shadows apart. As their blades went with them, Assassin's eyes widened. He leaped next and slashed fast as a beam fired at him.

The floor was liquid as the beam pushed him back, stopping only as he reached the dome’s edge. His wings beat once before one came again, dazzling and dangerous with nine other friends. He dodged as fast as black lightning would let him. The beams exploded on his heels, brightening his arena with bursting orange blasts. As new ones formed he went for the Fragment. They curved up and spiraled down, drilling him into the floor. Shards ground against him as he stomped free, rising as three spheres lined up. The first felt like it’d blast a hole in his chest. The second hit his head, trying to push it from his neck. The third wound into a spear for his heart, splitting his hand as he caught it, clutching it tightly. He willed the Umbra to make this power his, turning his exoskeleton orange as he pulled it inside. Warmth filled his chest, and he saw fury in the gaseous eyes.

“Insolence.” The Fragment growled. “Thou dare steal the power of God?”

Assassin glowered, wiping blood from his face. “The way you talk sounds kinda old, but I feel like you’re missing a few things. Maybe there’s too much in you, and you don’t remember what time you’re from.”

“Insolence!”

“You already said that one.” Assassin didn’t look at them, but he noted the four cubes laying around. The lupine thing wanted him to have them; his now orange glow was the reason why. The warmth in his chest was the power he’d stolen, and he could feel it in the Umbra, better than before. The Umbra fed on this type of thing, and the souls of Grays had not been enough. With these four boxes, his new foe was through. He willed the Umbra to link shadow and mind and shrugged at the Fragment with a smirk on his face. "You're not attacking? You must be afraid I'll steal some more."

“Heresy! Thou shalt know true damnation.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting then.”

The spheres this time were sharp with rings; Assassin saw how he wouldn’t steal power again. They came at him like shooting stars, rings whirling as impacts exploded. Chunks were sheared from the ground, missing the Number as a shadow snaked forward. It slipped under the Fragment and he sprung out, slashing for the neck. His sword caught on a newly formed hand, as a second one punched through his chest. Shadows unraveled around the arm, and the Fragment glared as the real one clutched a box. He absorbed the power as the "God's" fingers stretched. Spearing threads came ripping out, whipping wide as a shadow deflected. More arose as the threads pursued still. Assassin kept them coming, going for box two.

It was almost in his hands when a thread shot out of the ground. It missed his heart as he pulled aside, but pierced his shoulder, yanking him down. Whipping him up, it reeled him in; ringed spheres waiting in the Fragment’s other hands. Pieces of Assassin sprayed as they hit, going black as he leaped into another shadow. This one reached the box and pulled it in fast. His shoulder still bled, but what was the pain to drive? For the third, he loosed a flock of shadows. The Fragment replied with a background bright with waiting stars. Like fire and fury, they all rained down. One after the other, Assassin’s shadows died, some to him as he leaped between them. As the box grew closer, evasion grew harder, leaving the exoskeleton shattered and him sliding across the ground. Four hands cooked a beam, letting it fly. He rose, sword-swinging, slicing it apart as he absorbed the third box. Shadows dripped down him where the exoskeleton used to be; the final step so close he felt the wind at the gate. He didn’t have to look for the fourth box. The Fragment held it up, daring him to approach.

“Come. Meet thy judgment.”

“You're not a very smart god, huh? You're supposed to make sure assassins never get close." One more box and this was done. The Fragment met his eyes. Assassin didn't need Fang to tell him they were sharp.

Lightning clad in black, he became this once again, flying for the fight. Star bomb blasts lit up around him; beams spearing to their end as his blade swam around. He arrived with a swing to level buildings, meeting a sunbeam sword as The Fragment cut! Others filled hands numbering in the dozen, and Assassin met them with his shadow stabbing up. Orange and Black clashed in a liquid dance; each step another move in the battle of darkness and light. But Assassin had been in this place before—an even match was just a delay. Latching shadows to his sword, he cut the sunbeams and the Fragment apart. As the body burst, he caught the fourth box, eating the power the moment it touched his hands.

Particles surrounded him, growing into swords. They flashed as they stabbed through him. Holes filled him as the particles pulled together, grasping him in the hands of a newly formed Fragment.

“I am the Dawn. I am the Death of Night. I am the Alpha. I am the Omega. I am the Beginning, and I am the End.” It boomed down.

Assassin took a breath and blood spurted out. “And…” He wheezed. “I’m Shadow;Assassin…” Shadows erupted to the top of the dome.

“Thou art irrelevant.”

A wing beat sounded above.

“No. I'm the start of a new chapter." Assassin filled the falling shadow as the dome came apart. He plunged his sword through the Fragment's head, willing the Umbra to eat.

A roar rolled out like thunder as he pulled the sword back. It consumed the Fragment. He hit the ground. He willed the Umbra to close his wounds, and it was not enough. The holes in his body were just a reflection, the true damage had hit his soul. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Tears upon his face made him open them, as Fang pulled him into her arms.

“You’re not supposed to die too.” She held him tight. She felt so warm, even more so than that false god’s power. He always wanted to be in her arms, but he never thought it’d be like this. He knew she wanted to wait till graduation, and he wanted to be there when the mission was done. He loved this woman, even if she was too scared to let him. She loved him too, though, and his name was proof. Shadows stay with you. Shadows are not things you think to throw away. He laughed, and her tears fell more.

“I'm sorry I laughed." It reminded him of their first meeting. She was poorly hidden, but just enough that he didn't see her face. Her braids back then used to hide her cheeks, and he hadn't seen the tears. He laughed, and it was too loud for him to turn back, but he didn't laugh at her. "When I saw you that day, I was the happiest I ever was. They teach us to come out here and die, but I saw you and saw something better.”

She sniffled. “I was just a cry baby, what could you have even seen?”

Something eye-catching. Something he was happy he didn't miss. She would have just been another face in the crowd if she had a Luminance, but their shared condition made her stand out. Even at eleven, it put a thought in his mind. "I saw a person I always wanted to trust. I saw someone I wanted to lend my strength too. I think it was love at first sight. That's what Knight told me once. When he and King started dating, I asked him for so much advice."

Fang laughed, “I remember how shocked you were when I said I wanted to graduate before I tried dating.”

“I told Knight and he laughed at me.” Assassin laughed too. “He said I didn’t look unwilling to wait.”

She whimpered. “You don’t have to wait anymore. Just stand up. Tell me you’re all right.”

He brushed a braid behind her ear and wiped tears from her cheek. It was only the sword keeping him alive at this point. So long as he held it, he could breathe, but he knew he had to give it up. "I'm sorry, I have to deny that order."

With clenched fists, Ace mumbled to himself. He probably wanted to preserve their moment. He probably wanted to give what he didn't get with Raven. Assassin heard him though and called him over.

“Do you remember that time I picked you for the team battle?”

Ace's chest shook as a laugh climbed out. "Yeah. I was so surprised. Everybody knew you. Even when your number changed. People said that with you on the team, it was a free promotion chance. You grabbed a lot of the people that made sense, and we thought your team would be stacked. Then you chose me.” It made Ace the target of that battle.

“Do you remember the reason why?”

“Every team needs an ace up their sleeve.” The rest of the team groaned when he said it, but Ace felt alive.

“The other teams thought you'd be weak. They figured that if they took you out, my team would lose an advantage. They were afraid of me, but you outplayed them. That first time you led them into an ambush, they made the mistake of thinking you didn't matter. All that focus on me and the others, while you slipped right past them."

“Thanks…” Ace’s jaw tightened. “If it wasn’t for you, I never would have saw how good I could be.”

“You still have room to climb.”

“I can’t be you or Abigail.”

“You’re right. You can only be our Ace.” Assassin smiled, and tears filled Ace’s eyes. Assassin’s went to Fang as his hand on the sword tightened. “With your permission, I want to give this sword to Ace. He’s not a lefty like us, so he’s going to need its power.”

"Permission granted.”

“This means goodbye.”

“I figured…”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m supposed to be the one saying that.” A smile got through despite her tears. “On the bus, if you got to choose my name, what would it have been?”

“That’s easy. If King didn’t get the theme first, I would have tried convincing you to call yourself, Empress.”

“The Empress's Assassin." She shook her head, laughing. She kissed him, letting it show how much he meant. She held his hand, and as it dropped the sword, she held the kiss until his body went still.

In Gupta’s domain, the sun faded and only the man stood aglow in the darkness. He reached out to King, putting a box aglow with light in his hand.

“This is a God’s Coffin. It seals the Luster of a fallen god inside, letting its power be transferred to another person. Take this back with you, if Butcher is dead, this is the last piece you need.”

“And what are we supposed to do with it?”

“Open it. You have all three keys now." Gupta was fading, but King didn't need further elaboration. The three keys waited at the front of his mind.

“Dark. Orange. Revive...”