They told me the time has come
my old life was over
and the new one was just two steps away.
Not figuratively.
Literally.
In front of me stand angels from all celestial castles,
headed by their majestic leaders,
the archangels.
Raphael,
archangel of the Fourth Heaven.
Grim and severe.
Gabriel,
archangel of the Third Heaven.
Wise and Merciful.
And Archangel Michael,
Lord of the Second Heaven.
Imperious and ruthless.
I was allowed to become an angel -
an eternal protector of mankind...
But I refused.
Without her...
I have no need for your Heaven!
I am going back to Earth!
You would not dare!
Michael's shout was akin to thunder
that shakes the earth.
I knew I was making the wrong choice.
I knew.
And yet...
I hope you know what you are doing.
So do I.
Lulled asleep by the great fall,
I breach the boundary between dimensions.
The cold is bone-chilling
and it is hard to breath -
a sign that I'm returning to the mortal world.
Eventually
even this feeling disappears and I am plunged into complete darkness.
Wait for me,
Kara.
The same bleak picture all over again.
We fled the Old World of the continent of Prodo
to escape its rotten puppet-masters, bloodthirsty warlords and endless conflicts.
We fled to the New World of the continents Grandis and Numen,
leaving our old customs and lifestyles behind...
Or so we'd thought.
The greatest minds had united to grant us the metropolises -
magnificent city-states to become our new homes,
gateways to a brighter future,
and we still managed to screw them up.
Simple, cheap things, and yet so dear to me.
Each of them has a story to tell,
and I am not yet ready to let any of these stories go.
Save for this one.
I've worn this ring as far back as I can remember,
and I still cannot recall where or how I got it.
There are people who say that ignorance is bliss,
and there are those who claim the contrary.
Both are wrong.
We are called Binders -
we see what others cannot,
explore places barred to everyone else
and feel things no mortal man can experience...
Some of us call this ability a gift.
I am not one of them.
It is hard to consider something I would have given up at the first opportunity a gift.
The day my ability as a Binder awoke remains vivid in my memory.
An exercise in art and self-expression has become a living nightmare.
Huh?!
This was the first time I saw a cerberus.
Thankfully,
this was also the first time I encountered Dissidia,
one of Gabriel's seraphim.
Come on Kara,
pick up!
The number you have dialed is out of service; time: three years, fourteen days.
Huh? Three years?!
Lewis, right?
Lewis Phoenix?
Finally!
I've been searching for you all over -
do you know that you're harder to find than an ice cube in Hell?
Archangel Samael...
They call me "the Insatiable" - never fully understood why.
I always preferred Tim, but the last person who called me that died decades ago by my own hand.
Now the best I can count on is "Sir Timothy Ironwalk".
Years...
The time I have lived can no longer be measured in them
only in the number of enemies I have laid waste to.
I remember dimly the years of my youth.
I burned with impatience to grow up, become stronger and avenge my parents' souls.
I do not remember the faces of my parents.
I do not even recall what they were like:
kind or wicked, mindful or uncaring.
I remember nothing but their screams.
But I made sure to remember the faces of their killers when I bathed in the afterglow of my vengeance.
However, the satisfaction brought by it was
mercilessly brief.
I wandered the dark corners of old Henrystown until my hunger led me to them.
Or, more precisely,
them to me.
The Mortal Legion...
It was then that I clad myself in red.
Red became my sustenance,
my aspiration,
my craving.
My parent to replace the ones I've lost.
I have never betrayed its calling.
Legion and I became one.
Whatever had woken up within me
never stopped hungering.
It made me different from them:
more dangerous, more unpredictable, more brutal.
Apparently, serving their purpose was enough to ignore the beast I was turning into.
They made me their blade,
their unthinking weapon.
They always needed people like me -
those who had no qualms with having their hands elbow-deep in blood and standing waist-high in dirt.
I was told where to go and I went.
I was told whom to capture and I captured.
I was told whom to kill and I killed
with great pleasure.
But it was no ordinary murder -
I took the essence of my enemies, draining it with my bare hands and making it my own lifeblood.
Such meals were the only thing that eased my hunger.
Briefly.
No man could challenge me...
save for one...
We knew each other's techniques so well,
we might as well have been siblings.
He tried to kill me,
I tried to kill him,
and it was that way from the day we first met.
I do not remember his name -
Abraham van whatever...
He was a hunter of the Holy Church of Impero,
an eternal wanderer in search of victims.
Over time, we started to respect each other
as only mortal enemies can.
With time I started to notice that my colleagues were becoming slow and frail.
Their beards grew longer, their hair turned grey and lifeless.
I, however, was full of vigor.
Time steered clear of me...
Eventually, everyone whom I had the courage to call a friend was gone.
Alba was no longer what it used to be.
Electric lights replaced street lamps,
cars drove out the carriages, and steam conquered the sail.
This country used to be an Empire,
and now it has disemboweled itself on the altar of liberal values and cretinous bureaucracy.
The Legion has also lost quite a bit of its charm.
What ones used to be the last refuge for lost souls such as mine
has now become a den of spineless worms, their formalities and gut-wrenching affability.
With every passing year I was entrusted with less missions.
The amount of dead bodies shrunk,
while the number of "compromises" grew.
So I decided to leave.
To go wherever I was needed,
as long as it distanced me from that enclosure of herbivores.
But no one ever left the Legion...
Or so they thought.
Three on one.
Poor bastards did not stand a single chance.
I bought myself a cuddy on an old collier and departed for the New World.
People say its denizens live by the ancient ways,
that there are no bloodthirsty states and their ridiculous wars.
That people there live in city-states they call metropolises.
Well, then.
Let's see what this New World is made of.
My name is Ida Sharp,
daughter of Wilfred Sharp, chieftain of the Daylight Hunters.
Vanessa and Henry. My best friends.
Vanessa is the daughter of Michelle Baker, chieftain of the Dusk Hunters.
Henry is the eldest son of Carla and Samson Shtrut, chieftains of Night Hunters.
Still under house arrest?
You can say that again!
I told you we shouldn't have gotten drunk on that day!
Oh come on!
You only turn sixteen once in your life.
Yeah, tell that to my Dad.
Which one of them is more accurate?
This model is called "Akar-6".
It's not enchanted.
How do you know?
F-f-father says I have a gift for that kind of stuff.
My mother had a talent for healing.
My Dad is an excellent swordsman, and I...
I am so damn jealous, Henry!
I cannot even tell if a crossbow is enchanted or not!
Wel..well, it happens because enchanted weapons only react to their owners and...
A-a-a-argh! I can't take this anymore!
I am already sixteen and I haven't even hunted the Possessed!
I'm gonna go nuts in this damn bunker!
Well, I... I've heard that a joint mission of all three hunter enclaves is...is planned soon to some far...far small town.
Vanessa has always liked Henry, but I have no idea why.
Aaaaand?
Spit it out, four-eyes!
...to some town called Weefarbeck.
What's so special about that place?
Which is what we're going to find out!
I'm coming too!
This little shrimp is Donnie Shtrut,
Henry's annoying younger brother.
Like hell you are!
Oh?! Then I'm telling Dad!
And so started our joint trip to Weefarbeck.
If I knew what this little expedition would turn into,
I would've stayed home.
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