Ahndrian Archives

Red’s motorcycle screeched to a halt outside of the old mill. Cure slid off the back. The two pulled off their helmets as they approached the door to the rear entrance. This entrance lay at the top of a ramp, granting access to the second floor where the workshop was located.

Pounding beats of explosive EDM sent vibrations through the mill as usual. Whenever they were out, Zephyr would blast music. He didn’t like being there all alone and needed something to fill the silence. Plus, Scale wouldn’t let him play music at all and often told him to “Cut the racket off.” Though only in his forties, he had the whole old curmudgeon act down. The others didn’t mind the music; they were far enough from the city that no one would hear it.

Red disabled the alarm and the two entered. He was ready for Zeph to zip up and start unloading all the information he had gleaned, hit them with questions about what they had learned, and then begin boasting about how what he had learned was way more helpful and how they’d be lost without him. So, when he didn’t, both Red and Cure looked at each other and then moved back-to-back; something wasn’t right.

“H-help,” a weak voice uttered. Red had barely heard it. They broke formation and ran to the source.

In the room over, a storage space where they kept the spare tech, Zephyr lie sprawled out. His breathing was ragged, his face twisted into a mask of pain and fear, and a throbbing dark gash ripped across his chest. The sinister, otherworldly shadow was instantly recognizable. A reaper.

Red rose from his place at the young mobile’s side while Cure’s aura blossomed to life, and she began healing. With silent gestures, he motioned towards the door. She nodded. He was going to secure the perimeter; he had to make sure the attacker was gone. Red moved cautiously, trying to keep his steps light so as to not tip off the reaper. The timing was too convenient. This Ahndri was the killer. They had been looking into him, and the entire time he had been surveying them...like prey.

Red dropped and rolled to the side, torn from his thoughts, as a tendril of darkness whipped right where his neck had just been. The darkness flew back to the corner from which it came. There, stood the reaper.

The vigilante’s crimson aura flared to life, dancing like wildfire, as he lifted his hand, ready to unleash everything that blazed within. He didn’t notice the wisp of darkness that slithered along the ground; it shot upward, wrapping around Red’s wrist, and pulling it down just as he let off a blast of flame. The ground caught ablaze.

“Shit,” Red shouted.

He was distracted and, when he looked back to the corner, the reaper was gone.

“Cure!” Red yelled, hoping she would hear him in time.

Ignoring the fire beginning to lick and spread throughout the mill, Red ran back to the other room. Dark bars blocked the door.

“Out of the way!” Scale’s deep voice boomed from behind.

The behemoth of a man charged ahead; multiple layers of his barriers preceded him. The darkness, wood, and metal gave way and crumpled. Yet, aside from the haphazardly scattered technology, the room was empty. The window was broken, and a din could be heard from the forest beyond. Without hesitating, the two men launched from the second floor. As they fell, green barriers formed beneath them, lowering them and slowing the speed of their descent. As soon as they reached the ground, the two bounded ahead toward the sound of the clash.

Streams of electricity were met with slashes of shadow. Zephyr’s chest heaved as he huffed for air. He didn’t dare get any closer; he couldn’t afford to get in between Cure’s bolt taser and the series of attacks from the reaper. Cure hadn’t finished with her healing before the psycho had returned, so the best Zephyr could do was slog around and throw rocks. He felt so useless. But at least he had been able to get them out of the storage room and into the open where Cure could move around.

She was a force to be reckoned with. The woman’s black hair billowed out behind her as she ran toward the reaper, slid under one of his slashes, flipped over a lashing stream of dark energy, and retaliated with an attack of her own. A streak of white-hot electricity seared the dark Ahndri’s side.

His seemingly permanent smile warped into a sneer. The time for toying around was over. A flood of darkness tore from him like water from a rupturing dam. It cascaded through the undergrowth and tree branches, crushing and covering everything in sight. Cure crouched to the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible.

When the smothering dark lifted, so too did the barrier covering the New Heroes.

“I’ve never been so happy to see you guys,” Zephyr coughed out in earnest.

“Now that we’re back together, you’re going down, asshole!” Red yelled at the man, viciously baring his teeth.

The reaper chuckled. He was clearly amused by their display. And then he spoke.

“I used to be like you, you know? Inept, impotent...useless,” he drew out the last word; his tone was mocking as the dreamy-eyed, glazed look faded away—his mask of bemusement was finally lifting, “Our people have become weak. Due to the stagnation we all face...this peace,” he spat the last word out like venom.

“Must we continue to listen to the words of a madman?” Scale demanded. But, as if it had only hidden, the torrent of darkness returned coiling around the vigilantes instead of crashing down on them. This maniac wanted to be heard; he needed for them to understand.

“We can be more. I will be more. I will transcend the shackles of our genetics. I will be a god like the vaunted Ahnda of old. People will worship at my altar. The Ahndri have become pathetic, pale imitations of what we once were. Everyone has become akin to tiny, insignificant insects...ripe for the picking like mindless fruit. Like the delicious one you have there,” his eyes were the eyes of madness, the eyes of a hungry thing longing to devour. A shudder ran through his body as he rubbed himself obscenely, “I can smell her from here. Who thought there’d be a booster in a place like this?”

At this, some apparatus the reaper wore made a sound that reminded Red of hissing. Two hinged pieces of metal swung down to the sides of his face. They looked like fangs. He walked forth into the undulating sea of shadows.

The New Heroes stood together, making sure that each of them was in a position to watch the other’s back. The reaper could emerge from anywhere now.

“How is he doing this!” Red asked loudly as to be heard among the roaring dark.

“That machine he’s wearing drains aura; it’s what he was doing to me when he heard you guys get back to the mill. No normal Ahndri could do something like this,” Zephyr explained breathlessly.

“He’s been using people like batteries? What a sick bastard,” Scale scoffed.

Through all of this, Cure remained quiet. Until an umbral claw tore from the shadow vortex. “Scale!” she cried out. But it was in vain, as the older man was pulled into the darkness.

“No!” Zephyr lunged to save his comrade, but Red grabbed the speedster, holding him tightly as he writhed, “Let me go! I gotta help—I have to do something!”

“Zeph, you’ll just get sucked in, too. Calm down! Think!”

Zephyr collapsed into Red’s arms, breaking into a coughing fit; exhausted, he had fainted. It was up to the two remaining members of the New Heroes now.

Red and Cure stood against the storm, each positioned on either side of their weakened comrade. The whirling obsidian was an insurmountable wall—or was it more of a bladed trap?

The reaper burst from the shadow sea, dark thorns tearing from every part of his body. Fire sparked to life, weaving itself into two medium-sized blades that Red held in reverse. He tried to parry the swirling madman and managed to block some of the dark blades, tearing through them with light. However, the reaper, spinning like some perverse, weaponized top, struck, sending small, searing slashes all over the young manipulator’s body. Streams of electricity crackled out, driving the killer, shrieking like an animal, back into the shadows.

Cure summoned her golden light. As the darkness burned away from the cuts and the severed flesh closed back together.

Red spoke, “Cure, what did he mean by a booster?” He watched the healing process, feeling stronger by the second. The words of the madman made sense. She was adding to his aura. How hadn’t he noticed this before?

“This isn’t the ti—” Cure started but saw the desperation in Red’s eyes; she sighed and quickly continued, “I didn’t know my birth parents, but my foster parents would have me heal them. Even when they weren’t hurt. I’d feel so drained, like I’d given a piece of myself away. They didn’t care; it was like a drug to them…it made them…powerful. That’s why I ran. That's why I came to Gloshaven. I’ve had to hide myself. This is what life has become for aura boosters…”

Red saw the curtain of darkness pulse behind Cure. Calling on his flaming blades once more, he pushed her out of the way as the reaper re-emerged. Red sliced out along the villain’s collarbone. Fire burned through tight black leather revealing a tattoo near the madman’s neck. Red recognized it. It was a snake eating its own tail.

Ouroboros.

That word filled his mind; it was the only thing the young vigilante could think of. He couldn’t even hear Cure’s screams. Eyes widened, slowly looking down, Red could barely process what he was seeing as his vision blurred. A pike of hardened shadow curved up through his stomach. That can’t be blood…it’s too dark…

The reaper pushed the spike of shadow deeper until it pierced through Red’s back. The grotesque snapping noise made Cure sick. She doubled over, sour bile burning its way through her esophagus until she emptied the contents of her stomach at her feet. The vile man uttered a satisfied grunt as he pushed his spike even further in and then pulled out. Cure looked on in horror as he turned to her.

“Now, my dear, shall we stop this dance of ours? You are mine. I will suck you dry. Then, I’ll allow you to build back up, and I’ll have you again. Over and over— until our dying days. What could you ask for besides such devotion? I’ll never have to kill again. I can be the hero you need. All I need is you, my golden queen.” The reaper allowed his shadow blades to fall away. He began to slowly close the distance between them using slow, deliberate steps. He was savoring her fear, the same way he supped upon the aura of others.

Cure raised her weapon. The madman let out a slow, empty laugh. He opened his arms wide. There was no hesitation. The man was covered in gashes and burns; Cure noticed there were puncture wounds where his own shadow thorns had wiggled free from within. Whatever damage she added would be healed when he fed on her.

She was a mouse dropped into the cage of the serpent. She lowered the weapon and tossed it past the reaper, surrendering herself. He smiled, a wretched and eerie thin line seemingly stretching from ear-to-ear, and raised his hand to finally claim his prize.

Brilliant electricity erupted behind the reaper; the smell of burning leather and exposed skin assaulted Cure’s nose bringing back the sick feeling from before. He gyrated and screamed, leaping back into the shadows, the movements were bizarre like he was more of a caricature of a human than man. Cure noticed the encroaching darkness seemed to have waned some as she ran forward to heal her comrades.

“Told you I always do all the work,” Zephyr coughed out, weakly yet triumphantly waving the bolt taser.

Light poured from both of Cure’s hands as she called upon her aura. Zephyr pushed her hand away; it was clear he wanted her to focus on Red. The young woman dug deep, pushing every bit of power she could access out of herself and into the fallen hero. He should have been dead, but Cure noticed he had managed to cauterize the injury on his front before falling unconscious. Clever as always.

The heroine pushed more and more, knowing that the monster lurking in the shadows wouldn’t lick his wounds for much longer.

Like her very thoughts had called the fiend from the void, the reaper came—bringing with him the threat of endless blades. The inside of the shadow vortex was now lined completely with dark thorns.

“No more games,” the madman cried, “I will skewer you all! I’ll tear your limbs from your body, my queen! I can get what I need from you whether you have them, or you don’t!”

Cure continued her healing. No, she continued her boosting. She would save Red. She would bring him back!

“T—that’s mine!” the reaper yelled like a petulant child, “Fine! Have it your way! Just know that the blood of your friends is on your hands!” The blades began their assault.

Red’s eyes opened. Fire exploded. The dark blades were incinerated, purified by flame. The dark Ahndri escaped into a portal of darkness. The New Heroes were freed from the black cage. Zephyr looked at his hands in awe.

“How are we alive? Why aren’t we barbecue?”

“Red controlled his flames to go around us,” Cure explained in between pants; she had given much of her aura away.

Red continued to blaze. Fire danced around him like a phoenix reborn. He scanned the surrounding forest, looking for the reaper. Zephyr helped Cure to her feet and they made their way to where the discarded Scale lay.

“Ouroboros!” Red screamed out into the darkened woods.

“Okay, he’s finally lost it,” Zephyr whispered.

Like a man possessed, Red continued to search. There, in one of the trees, he saw something out of place. With both hands extended to his sides, the vigilante released streams of flames, propelling himself into the air. The reaper, Ouroboros, as Red had called him, leapt from the tree limb, ready to meet the coming fury.

Phoenix collided with serpent; shadow met flame. The two god-like Ahndri vied against one another. Extending his fingers and slashing out, the fiend sent forth a rain of umbra blades. Red spun, blanketing himself in a brilliant inferno. He dropped from the fiery cocoon and rocketed at his opponent. He rushed into the reaper, and like a comet, the two crashed through the trees. Red’s fists rained down like a meteor shower. The warring Ahndri broke through the barrier of the forest into the sleepy slums ahead.

Shadowy stingers continuously shot out into Red's back. Most of them burned into nothingness, but the wounds left behind from those that hit their mark were instantly burned shut. Trying to prevent any casualties, the leader of the New Heroes tried not to let up. But the reaper slid into a dark void. If it weren’t for the shanties, the blazing hero would’ve released a ring of fire to catch the villain wherever he emerged. He had to be smart though. The serpent was backed into a corner and too proud to run; he would strike eventually. Red closed his eyes and waited.

Below, like before. He opened his eyes. A sliver of darkness appeared at his feet. The Ahndri killer appeared with his dark blade at the ready, intent on bathing it in Red’s guts once more.

“Not this time!” the New Hero cried out, releasing a plume of fire. The villain was knocked from his shadowy portal. He crashed against a nearby wall. The aura-draining apparatus made a sickening crunch. Surely some of the tech had crushed and embedded itself into the reaper’s back. Smoke streamed from his mouth. Red wasn’t sure he was alive.

Sirens blared out in the night sky and against the sound of burning embers. Before he was aware of them, SAC agents began pouring into the shantytown. Only way to get them to come this deep into the slums, huh? 

“Red! You’re under arrest! Do not resist,” Roan’s voice cried out. He wanted to be damn Alex Worth so bad, Red thought. Multiple water manipulators stepped toward him, commanding water to ebb and flow through the air to display their power. He knew it would fade eventually, but they had no idea what he was capable of now. Maybe I should give them a little show.

Red surged into the air, fire blasting from his palms; now that some of the adrenaline had worn off, he was aware of a dull throbbing in his hands. His many wounds from the battle with Ouroboros also cried out in unison. This new power was more than he could handle, but he had something to prove—he wouldn’t quit now. He wove through missiles of water; those that reached him evaporated instantly.

Once he was high enough for all of Gloshaven to see. He raised his arms. Great flames streamed through the sky. He wanted to make sure that everyone in the shining city saw the Phoenix of the Slums. He allowed himself to drop and made his way home.

“This is Ray Kallen with News GHS! With footage of the reported phoenix and the capture of the notorious serial killer who has been targeting the Ahndri of Gloshaven. Unfortunately, Detective Roan couldn’t be reached for a comment, but we were able to get audio of the killer. We have been warned against playing the audio but, to roughly quote it, we can report that the killer has taken on the villainous moniker of ‘Ouroboros.’ Many eyewitnesses of the local shanties have gone on record saying that the phoenix that appeared was none other than Red of the New Heroes. We will continue to delve deeper and provide all of Gloshaven with more information. Again, this is Ray Kallen reporting; back to you, Khrys—”