The torment and torture doesn't stop, does it?

It just keeps coming back.

The remembrance of his younger self and his former family came back with startling clarity. Now, the familiar red sea fills his eyes as he naturally opens them up. Why, he still remembers them—he's never forgotten it. How could he possibly forget them when he was the one that killed them.

Brutally murdered and slaughtered them all as they screamed at him, calling him all sorts of things and labeling names that best suited his grotesque behavior.

Demon. Devil. A filthy monster.

As it repeats itself like an endless cycle, he loses himself in them once again.

Again.

Again, again, and again. Until he cannot differentiate his own life with death.

He tries so hard to wash away yesterday's memories and the day before that, then the day previous to–

"Big brother! Big brother! You're here!!"

That voice... It belonged to his dearest sister. How long has it been since he last saw her? It must've been years, but he didn't know the exact amount. He's already lost count of them.

"Of course, my cute little sister! It is your birthday after all! Why wouldn't I be here?"

"You've been busy with him lately... So, I assumed you would miss my special day..."

"Nonsense! I'd never miss out on this day. You bring me the utmost joy and happiness, Soren! I'd feel so ashamed if I miss out on your special day."

"R-Really? Do you really mean it, big brother?"

"C'mere." He wraps his arms around her tiny figure, bringing his one and only sister close to his chest. A genuine smile formed on his lips as he spoke with such tenderness, "You hold the dearest place in my heart—you mean the absolute world to me. And I don't know what I would do without you or mother... I just– I just love you so very much. If only mother was here with us... that would–"

A sharp, hoarse sound bolts from his lips, letting his sanguinary hatred get the best of him and swallow everything whole. Although the color is blood-red, it doesn't give off the supposed warmth; instead, the freezing cold embraces him and his sins to the point of suffocation.

Their lifeblood as well as his sanity trickles down his hands, accumulating at his feet and then clawing at his ankles. They□ were dragging him beneath the redness and into the dark abyss, where death awaits him. Their long, loud, piercing cries welcomes him, applauding their killer's arrival and soon his demise.

"You deserve to die, Noir Vlad."

"Burn in the pits of Hell!"

"The Devil's spawn!"

"You shouldn't have been born!"

They had so much more to say, but he couldn't bring himself to listen. Not when the cold had numbed his senses—rather, his entire body. As their cries dull down to a loud buzzer in the air, it takes every ounce of strength for him to crawl back into the other world.

"This is not how I'll die, you sick fucks! If you intend on dragging me to where you all are, then too bad so sad! I am the successful one in this fallen world, not you lot!"

"We cannot fathom as to why your sister holds you so dear to her heart."

"I'd say she belongs with us. She probably would've liked death much better than the life she has to carry now, knowing her older brother is a monster."

"You're such a terrible brother, Noir. Making her clean the mess you made, and then leaving her behind like she was trash to begin with."

"Shut your fucking trap! You don't know anything! If you vex me anymore, I swear I'll–"

"You swear you'll do what? What can you possibly do to a deadman, Noir?"

"Soon, you'll be joining us. No... you'll be going to a different place."

"You're going to die alone, with no one to comfort you when you descend to Hell."

"Why don't you just die already?"

Immediately at his booming voice, their mocking hostility ends and so does the nightmare. The man wakes up in a cold sweat, with dread filling his every vein as he sits up from the futon. His heart is practically beating out of his chest, threatening to burst any second now.

It takes him a while to remember, recall where and why he was here. His head snaps around every corner, checking for intruders, assailants, and whatnot.

Nothing.

It was just a dream, yet it felt incredibly real. Too real.

"The hell was that bloody nightmare about? Not that it's anything new, but seriously, I can't get some decent shuteye with this ongoing."

Every night, they remind him of what he took away from them. Everything is shattering, and it's his fault that the world is like this. But can't they see...?

This was his way of telling the whole world that he needed help—he needed someone to just end his pain and misery. Although the human side of him no longer exists on the outside, it lingers inside him without his alternative self knowing.

"Shit... How long was I asleep for?"

Noir goes to retrieve his Scroll at the side of his futon, only to hear it ring. The man blinked as he took the device into his gloved hands, swiping the screen and answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Are you sleeping on the task that I've specifically given you, Dravern?"

"It's you... I was just on my way out." The wyvern-like fighter pushed himself to stand on both feet. "So, why did you call? Is something the matter?"

"There will be a problem if you do not fulfill your objective by tonight! Do not fail me, nor should you anger me, Dravern. Do I make myself clear?"

"Alright, alright. Take a chill pill. I'll be there in a few." With one swipe, he ends the call.

Stuffing the black Scroll into his pocket, Noir quickly donned his armor, leaving the room in full gear.

"Come to think of it, I found those nightmares to be so silly. But now... they're getting on my damn nerves."

They say that there is salvation for all mankind, but to achieve this is to follow God's□ law. But... could there really be redemption when the man himself has done only the Devil's work? Was there even a heaven or a hell?

"Somehow, those dreams don't seem so absurd now."

Although muffled, the persistent and familiar ringing are enough to alert the male that there was a caller.

Noir lets out a long sigh. "What is it now? Could it be Alternative again? If so, I'd ought to just tell that bitch to go kill–" He doesn't wait to finish his own sentence, fishing out the Scroll and answering the call.

"What is it this time, Alter–?"

"What took you so long to call, Noir? Don't tell me you were sleeping on the job."

It immediately registered in the man's mind that this wasn't his boss, but rather one of his companions.

Noir quickly clears his throat and scoffs, "Well, sorry. But those three idiots decided to ditch me in this dump with Roman. Fucking bastards..."

He hears a sigh from the other line.

"That Cinder, always as impatient and cunning with planning as she is deadly."

"So, what now? I'm currently stuck here doing absolutely nothing but waiting. And you should know that I'm not the one to be patient."

"If it makes you feel any better, I've already hacked into her Scroll and sent orders to Roman. By now, he's probably out and about while doing his job. But, once he's done, I'll contact you."

Noir shook his head, chuckling while running his hand through his white locks. At the very least, he wouldn't have to stay cooped up in his room. But the excruciating boredom that came with waiting...

"Heh. I'm beginning to think that Cinder should've met you instead."

"Perhaps. But I simply do not have the luxury nor the time to act as the gentleman. I am a man on a mission, and so are you. But playing 'romance' isn't mine to fulfill, that's your job."

Noir nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I do what needs to be done. And, as always, you're as smart at manipulating the worldwide web connection on the CCT as you are as smart in battle."

"Patience, my friend. The time to show ourselves will come, but for now, you'll be the main one in the spotlight."

Forming on his cheeks is a mad grin. A deranged man with malicious intentions. He's already given in to the madness.

"Oh? Does that mean...?"

The voice gave a chuckle.

"Yes... Go and run free, Noir Vlad. Strike fear into the hearts of those fools in Vale, and let everyone on Remnant know–remember why you are feared."

"Perfect! What a wonderful gift! I love the idea! Bringing terror onto everyone including you-know-who is simply... thrilling."

"Indeed... the Bull will regret messing with you, the Apex Predator of the Faunus, but no... not yet. Even so, I have left something at your door."

What's this? A gift from his... friend?

"Oh? What is it? Why are you–?"

"This is not the time to ask questions. Simply, open the door and you'll see."

There was no point in arguing with his close associate. And, without further ado, Noir dragged himself to the door and swung the rectangular barrier to the side, seeing a metal container before him. On closer inspection, the size of this receptacle is as tall as him—maybe even taller. And there's some passcode lock attached to the door.

"And the code for this thing?"

"666."

Noir rolls his eyes as he perceives the passcode.

"Really? You had to choose those numbers? Well, if you're planning on having an apocalypse against the world then... well, whatever."

His hand shoots out to tap in the code. With a brief click, the case opens to reveal a new set of coal-black armor.

"T-This is–!!"

"Can't have you fighting without your gear, yes?"

Noir gave a chortle. He reaches out to feel the metallic plates, brushing his pale fingers against the hard surface of his new armor.

"It's perfect! Perfection! You've really outdone yourself."

"Much appreciated for the comment... Dravern."

"Anytime... Hydra."

A scream rips from the man's vocal chords as he is harshly kicked towards a steel pipe, thrown backwards by the force of the intruder's kick. Upon the impact of metal hitting against his occipital region, the Faunus Terrorist seemingly dies from the blow and falls flat on his face.

With an image of God and power of a monster, one would say that this person could be an equal measure of both idols. But that'd be plain ridiculous, wouldn't it? None of them believed in a God or a Devil, but the mere thought of them in this unreal world is entertaining. Splendid even.

How far would these believers go for their God? Will they abandon everything including their sanity for them? Will they replace the present with the past and follow history, where death is inevitable for everyone?

The eternal cycle between life and death is truly fascinating...

"So weak. They weren't much of a challenge. A shame, really. I was hoping for just a bit of fun, but I let myself hope for absolutely nothing."

The tall man reveals himself from the shadows and steps into the light, uncovering his purple armor along with the V-Buckle and Advent Deck.

"Even before gaining this power, I could've taken them on with my bare hands. But... this is a gift from him. I mustn't waste it, nor should I throw it out."

If there was power, he was willing to take it. Easy and simple as that. Anyone would if it were granted to them so easily.

Turning his head to check if there were any more men, he slides the card deck right out of the buckle and reverts back into his civilian form.

He brushes off all specks of dust from his shoulders, stuffing the deck into his pocket and then staring back at the corpse in front of him. The lifeless body drools with a mixture of blood, sweat, and tears. To anyone, this would be a nasty sight, but for him it was sort of like... art.

The way their blood paints over the dull ground and their monochrome uniforms, decorating it with the color of red. It certainly fits the dead, doesn't it?

As much as he would love to just stand around and admire the horrific scene, his Scroll rings and the latter has to fetch the call.

"Report."

"I got their attention just now. And that explosion earlier, was that you?"

"I figured I might as well head out for a stroll and join in on the fun while I'm at it."

"You're weird, you know that? You're usually locked up in your room, surfing through the internet and hacking their systems by now. So, what gives?"

"You really don't understand me, Noir. Well, it's not like any of you do anyway. I've just recently discovered something very... interesting, which required me to come out. But of course, not without a little notification."

"A-Adam! We have a problem!"

"What is it now?" A frown makes its way to the Bull Faunus' lips as he saunters into the room.

The bloodthirsty dictator stands in the center of their Vale Branch, his eyes filled with hatred and anger. They hid underneath his mask, but it didn't matter—there was pure malice whichever way one would look at it.

A symbol of what seems to be a Hydra appears in the center of the holographic screen, blocking their entire view of the panel.

Why on earth–?!

"That symbol... It's him...! Tch, what a coward. Hiding under all of that technology, yet he doesn't want to show us his face."

"Sir, we have bad news! Our men have reported that Hydra has been seen wiping out all of our men in one of the warehouses! A-And Dravern has infiltrated another!"

The man growled, his hand reaching for his sword and gripping the jet-black handle. His henchmen have all gathered in one spot, shock is evident in their whispers. Of all times, why now?!

"I will not make the same mistake twice. Give me the coordinates! I'll head over there and take care of them myself."

"T-They left, sir! However, we don't know where they're off to!"

Adam growls once more and unsheathes his red blade, slicing the treen furniture like a hot knife cutting through butter. The members gasped as they saw the chaotic mess. None dared to speak nor move, not when their leader–

"Dead! I want them dead! I don't care how you do it, kill them! While you all do that, I will talk to Cinder about this... This is stupid. Utterly ridiculous of her to think she's tamed the White Fang's Greatest Mistake."

And they weren't the only ones to face this problem...

"G-General Ironwood, sir! I-It's–!"