The officers stood in shock for a time, disgusted by what they saw.

  Flies had begun to perch on the bodies as their congealed blood stank.

  Michelle couldn't hold it in. She had never handled a murder case since she started her career, but now, she was brutally shown this gory scene. Her weapon shuddered in her palm, threatening to fall from it.

  She immediately threw up the contents in her stomach.

  Alberto and some of the others were better off, trying their best to identify any clues, whilst trying not to step in a random head or kidney.

  Abel on the other hand, seemed… normal.

  He felt as if this wasn't anything to be shaken by.

  To him, this was very abnormal. He'd worked in the force for over five years, and he'd seen his fair share of bodies, even from his young age before the force.

  But nothing could prepare his mind for… this.

  Yet, it almost seemed so surreal. Like everything he saw now was a painting. His heart was unmoved, even with the smell of bodies.

  ‘Have I become this… desensitized?’ Abel thought to himself. His eyes trailed across the carcasses as his gaze fixated towards a door that was left slightly opened.

  Abel signalled towards it, the others alerted and pointing their weapons in that direction.

  He took quiet steps, opening it ever so slightly. The door creaked as it gave way, revealing a figure bent over a decapitated body holding its decaying head.

  The officer behind Abel pointed his gun to the figure's head.

  “Hands where I can see em” he ordered, but was confused when Abel pushed his gun down.

  “He's… with me” Abel said calmly, not sure what was going on?

  What was Raphael doing here? Why was he in the very centre of such an incriminating crime scene?

  Raphael turned to give a heart warming smile as he turned to Abel and the others.

  Then he pulled out a coin that signified his authority and said…

  “Took you long enough!”

  ***

  North Borough, also called the Royal Area, was the home of the rich and government officials. It was originally reserved for the Royal family and their vassals, but during the war of the Republic about three hundred years prior, the lands were taken by the rebels who fought for unity under a Republican ideology.

  Still, this region stank of bureaucratic red-tapism and idealistic hypocrisy.

  Now only those with money could afford residency in such parts.

  It was currently Nighttime.

  In a large mansion near the government house, a ball was ongoing in full effect. The outside was covered with carriages; the rich and wealthy discussing business and political matters over a glass of wine.

  Inside, classical music was being played by an orchestra.

  The men were dressed neatly in suits and ties with prim and proper trousers and flat shoes, all in various colors, some with hats on.

  The ladies were dressed in flowing gowns, some body hugging, others flourishing heaps of cloth.

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  But one thing was in common; every single person wore a mask.

  It was a masquerade ball, meant to keep the identities of the participants anonymous.

  A tall man, about six feet tall, leaned in a corner pillar. His gait was large and lean, giving an air of danger and quiet animosity.

  Currently, a masked lady was beside him, leaning on his shoulder as they both talked about many things.

  His eyes gleamed blue and his black hair as dark as charcoal.

  Soon, a butler walked towards him and handed him a fresh glass of wine.

  “Thank you!” He greeted as he lifted his drink to propose a toast to the lady.

  She giggled in reply, clinking her glass with hers.

  The man smiled, causing the lady to blush under her mask as she took a sip, before licking her lips in a provocative manner.

  Just then, a young man walked towards them, speaking to the handsome man.

  His lips turned from a smile to a frown, his demeanor changing ever so slightly.

  He turned to the lady, took her hand and kissed it.

  “I apologize, my lady, for leaving such a flower as you unattended. But work calls, and I must attend”

  The woman seemed dejected and slightly annoyed. She squirmed her lips, before pulling a card just from a purse under her dress.

  “Visit me when you wish, sir. I'll be waiting” she whispered in a sultry tone inside his ear, before slowly walking away with grace.

  The masked man nodded to the other man, who escorted him outside.

  He avoided most of the crowd that knew him, and boarded a carriage not too far away.

  The young man took the reins of the horse and urged them onwards.

  The handsome man pulled his mask, revealing a well chiseled face and deep blue eyes.

  He leaned into his seat, crossed his legs and spoke.

  “Chrono, explain to me what I just heard was part of your plan”

  Just opposite him, sitting across the carriage, a figure suddenly appeared. A moment ago, there was no one. But now, a figure sat there, dressed in large robes.

  “How can I say this… I needed to clean up witnesses” the figure Chrono spoke in a distorted voice.

  “And in the process, you've made this an even bigger deal” the man replied in a slightly annoyed tone.

  “It's not a big deal. It's not as if I left any traces”

  “Any…. Traces? You do know that spirit channeling exists correct”

  “I covered that too. Not even the gods would find a trace of my movements”

  “Insolent!!!” The man grunted, his gaze glowing golden.

  Chrono shivered as an unbelievable weight pushed it down, forcing it to tumble over.

  “I understand why you might want to do that. But you have orders not to make this matter bigger than it is… so I ask… Have you lost your mind?” His voice grated, the fabric of all things real began to shudder as the space around Chrono began to constrict, pressing its body together.

  The sound of bone cracking followed as the figure groaned in pain.

  “N…n…n…nooo My Lord. Mer…cy…. I won't ….Gaaaahh!!!” Chrono begged, before spitting a clump of blood out of its mouth.

  The pressure remained for a brief second, before disappearing.

  “Haaaah!” Chrono gasped for air, as it stayed on its knees, shivering.

  “This is your last warning. Do what I tell you to do, and you will be rewarded. Screw it up… and I will make sure that you wished your lineage never existed” he said in a definite and condescending tone, his golden eyes dimming.

  Chrono nodded immediately, not saying a word.

  “Good. Now how are the preparations?” He asked calmly.

  “Almost done sir, all that is left is the Key item”

  The man scowled, looking out the window in disgust.

  “Any clues where the Order is hiding it?”

  “None my Lord. We assume only the Dream Lord knows where it is”

  The man went deep into thought, before sighing. Getting anything out of the dream lord was as his title, a fickle dream.

  They had to think of another alternative.

  “Keep your eyes open at the dock area. I will try to find an alternative artifact to use”

  “Yes… My Lord!!” Chrono replied, before vanishing into thin air.

  The man kept his gaze outside, his eyes drifting towards the large bell tower at the centre of the City of Belmont.

  Time was never on anyone's side.

  “We don't have much time!”

  ***

  Abel and Raphael were in an elevator, going down underground. It dinged when it reached the bottom, opening its doors to a hallway filled with statues of the Heraldim.

  They walked straight towards the end, a large man sat before the door fiddling with a double barrel rifle.

  “Oye old man, we’re back!” Raphael greeted with a wave.

  “Good evening Mr Boris” Abel said immediately.

  Boris looked at both of them and smiled widely.

  “Well, if it isn't the new kid in the block aye? How's the feel of field work innit?”

  “The new kid’s good! Was able to keep up with me somewhat!” Raphael replied…

  “Kid, I'm older than you!” Abel retorted, his face grim.

  “Don't be so sure. I may just look younger than most!” He chuckled as he shrugged and opened the door.

  “What are you? Some kind of vampire?” Abel replied back in a gruff tone meant to tease.

  Boris’s eyes lit up for a brief period, but then chuckled.

  “You did great kid… Raphael don't go praising others too much”.

  Abel shrugged as he went in, a figure of a young woman with long dark hair and a large suitcase next to her.

  Currently, she was playing a game of chess with the quiet April, the clicking of pawns the only sound made.

  “Ahhh, Dorothy, you're back!!!” Raphael cried out, rushing to hug her from behind.

  Suddenly, he was picked and tossed across the room by an unknown force.

  Abel stood dazed as he looked at the woman before him.

  It was like looking at a shadow of his past before him.

  He knew this woman…

  Very Well!

  They went to college together.

  “Dorothy McGinnis?” Abel blurted out.

  Dorothy frowned as she turned to face Abel, her dim eyes squinting…

  “Abel Michaelson? How?”