A Game of Shadows (IC)

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_Nox_

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Revenge someone should never be taken lightly. Giving someone an efficient death is not a easy task. Especially when that person is Quintus Knightfall, better known now as Raysh Al Shaytan, the leader of the League of Assassins. A man who has died in more many ways than Rasputin, twice as dangerous too. I've found it in the past that the more you plan the likelihood of your objective being achieved increases. I have been preparing for this moment for almost four years now, the wound is still aching. I remember everything.

Back then Antonio had just joined us, I remember he was always quite. I gave him a hard time because he blushed every time a girl looked at his way. I never really got to know him too well, but I knew that look too well. I've seen it in myself multiple times, he felt so alone all the time. Like he never had a true family, I wish I had reached out , I could have given him the feeling that he belonged at least once. I was just too arrogant to reach out. "Cold heart" I told myself as I pounded on my chest, just like him. When he was finally accepted by our "Patriarch" , Antonio was thrown from a window by him like some dog that wasn't even fit to lick his boots.

Then there was Ashley, one of my closest friends. I don't know how she put up with me, I had a huge stick up my ass back. She was so nice , she genuinely cared about everyone. Nothing was false with her. She was one of the most amazing people I ever met in that sense, I've never met someone so easy to open up to. It was like she understood, she could see right through me like I was made of glass. I can't forgive him for taking her away from me, when I try to look for a redemptive quality in him, I'm reminded of what he did.

I wish I had died when he put that sword through my chest, I could be with her once again. My body was just too stubborn, I woke up five days later in an abandoned HQ with Mortimer. From that moment on, I begun planning for this very moment every day. I didn't know who else had died and I wasn't interested in finding out, I just changed my name and moved on. I met Felix at Gothic Academy and for a short time I forgot about my previous life. Until Gothic city was burned to the ground, I knew I had to come back.

----

This is it, where Antonio and Ashley died. It ends where it begun. I remember holding her as she took her last breath and I saw the light that made me a better person leave her eyes for a final time. I can still see her blood in my hands. To this day I do't know why he did it, for all I have studied him I still don't know what motivates him to do all the horrible things he does. He's not insane, he just wants us to believe that he is.

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I remember the man that he once was, someone I could look up to. That I still wish to aspire to be. That's why I'm wearing one of his old cowls. To remind him too that there was a time that he actually stood for something other than anarchy and greed. I'm scared, he knows it even though I'm not shaking. He can tell, he can always tell. This is a game that he plays, whoever blinks first loses. That's why I winked.

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Raysh_Al_Shaytan

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Well orchestrated....meticulously well crafted? Undeniably so. Thoughts of congratulatory impressions briefly fluttered across the mental landscape of the Al'Shaytan as he read the hand written epistle of the amalgamated prodigy. And yet the Last Arashikage could not help but to focus on the detectives lack of overall vision. Could the LeBeau-Knightfall renegade truly have been so consumed with the architecture of his grand-scheme as to not have noticed the invaluable outcome? Quintus had savagely plucked the tree of opportunity clean of low hanging fruit. Not one but TWO cloned supermen. A hero brutally disgraced and incarcerated. An entire legion faithfully willing to spread the League's indoctrination of fear and horror as witnessed by the World as Gothic once again burned. Its children set ablaze. His son was free and at large and his vaunted LoS, ghosted into the wind. To one day emerge and strangle the false sense of victory with murderous hands. If this were defeat, then it was a defeat the Last Arashikage pridefully welcomed. For at the end of the day it had all come back to this. The Cardinal vs the Mamba. No Liafadors, no assassins, no tricks nor fabricated illusions. Just a boy who should have died years ago, facing off against the immortalized Knightfall.

§ The Abandoned Knightfall Heritage Museum §

He's thinking about them right now, even as our vengeful stares of penance become entangled in a silent stalemate, he's thinking of them. Antonio, Ashely, their senseless slaughter. But what of the other fallen members of the World's most notorious clan? No one ever mourns for Jothee. Kincaid? Surely David? All of whom had also seen their eternal flames snuffed out by the fallen Arashikage. Quintus had nearly eradicated an entire generation of Knightfalls in life, death, and beyond the grave. Erased from the annuls of history. Forgotten as effortlessly as they had been cut down and exterminated. Except for him, except for the Apex Amalgamation. A virtual taskmaster of Da'Vincian gestation. Biological alchemy having transformed LeBeau, Knightfall, and Liafador contributions into his physical and ascetic foundation. The Knightfall Prodigy, the lone survivor of Knightfall Massacre, and architect of the Liafador/Knightfall escalation. Nox.

To resilient too die and too bound by honor to forget, the Knightfall Prodigy sought to extract justice for those that his esoteric Uncle had killed. Ardently attired in the crimson and onyx colors of LoS ceremonial prestige, Quintus nonchalantly sauntered through the shambled remains of the once mighty historical publication. Ransacked by collectors and looters, its faded glory was a sobering reminder that even the greatest monuments eventually fade into obscurity.

His devil inspired mask crassly rested atop his head. Salt and peppered hair curving to settle it in place. The Living Legend eyed the boy who had become a man, who had become a paragon of vendetta, and smiled. Wondering what the boy's initial move would be. Would he reach for his uncle's ultimate equalizers? Would he display some undocumented physical attributes courtesy of his New God heritage? Had he arrived hours, days even, early in preparation?

Glancing from side to side with mild intrigue Quintus again smirked. Gripping the hilt of his own impressive blade, blade that had cut a God, his free hand rose up to great his mask. Pulling it down before subtly nodding. "Well then? Shall we get to it?"

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_Nox_

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"Nothing to say? I expected as much. You never really did talk that much when you were fighting, I always thought that it was because it messed with your dark and brooding routine. Now I realize that it was because you were just a shitty multi-tasker. One misstep and it's over.Throwing a smoke bomb is stupid, he's been using that trick longer than I have and I'm sure that he created about fifty counter measures should someone try to pull that same move on him. Engaging in a even sword fight is also suicidal, I might have better equipment but that doesn't matter if I can't land a single hit on him. I need to wear him down first before I even think about that.

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"I mean, what other explanation is there for you never wanting to talk in the dinner table with any of us? Your abilities simply did not allow you to eat and speak. To think that I sometimes believed that it was because you had the emotional balance of an angsty teenager". While his speech distracted Quintus he dropped two circular explosive grenades on the ground and leaped back, pretty standard blast if he had to say so himself, it was the deceit that behind them that made them effective. Of course I have an ace up my sleeve. I'm not idiotic enough to even attempt using the weapons he created against him. I changed the design of the explosive bombs so they would look like the ones from the smoke bombs.

I bet you still think that you're not that far behind in the scoreboard. Sure you managed to successfully clone Champion twice, impressive feat, but what's a creator that can't control his creations? Rama was just a loud mouth, he was bound to get someone killed, I'm not going to cry over the inevitable. The League's "children" are going to scatter when I put a sword through yourheart, the intelligent ones will follow my lead. Your son is a prime example of a generation unable to live up to the previous one, he's not even half as dangerous as you were. The only thing that I consider a loss was the death of the children in Gothic, that's an outcome which I did not foresee occurring and I'm going to have to live with it until I join them.

Now with some distance between them, he hid behind the case where the most valued possession used to be presented for the world. The first sword wielded by a recorded Knightfall, dating back to the Crusades. Mark had been rigging the place for months, meticulously planning each step and movement possible activated alone by voice recognition. Outdated technologies like buttons or sinking steps were too risky and ineffective, being the one that controls the environment gives him a larger edge over the Old Mamba.

The Arashikage Night seized talking, he even stopped breathing from his nostrils so his opponent wouldn't be able to hear him. Combined with soundproof silicon soles, the shadows couldn't even see him. When the museum was first constructed the architect insisted on installing gargoyles, my logical move is to use them as a vantage point. That's why it wouldn't work, it's too down his alley. The Modern Day Holmes attached his cape to the grapple gun and launched it at the Museum's old watchers, attempting to deceive Raysh into believing that it was actually him moving even if only for a second.

Following that strategic trick, he threw two mini knightorangs, one aimed for his shoulder and the other one for the arm. The reasoning behind this move was to again distract him from the real attack with the possibility of actually hurting him. Shooting for the torso and head was most likely unwise since those two spots are usually protected better than the rest of the body. "Codeword: T-6 aand T-7"Armor piercing turrets folded from the ground, instantly the barrels begun twisting and shooting shells in the floor, the weapons were programmed to follow the Noir Rose's specific heat signature and body type.

Your move.

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Raysh_Al_Shaytan

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The contentious thundering of repetitious gunfire and scolding hot shell casings, as they danced across the vacant floor of the Heritage Museum, all but muted out the antagonist sardonics of the Crimson Cardinal. Coupled with his deceptively employed grenade toss, Nox had instituted the premiere of his anticipatory engineering through the deployment of conventional armaments. The entire display could arguably be compared to the impressive tactical prowess of even Cassius Knightfall himself.

But as the first unseen bullet ripped into the stationary Mamba it became evident that conventional assaults would not be enough. Not even close. Forcefully struck again and again, where blood and shredded flesh should be, instead cast off river like streams of intangible darkness. Shadows to be exact. Softly filtering off into the ether while arrogant laughter invaded the dilapidated house of history. "Stage one, mirror uncle Cassius. Predictable and somewhat disheartening." Heard but unseen, Raysh continued. "I admit however that your ability to infiltrate my inner circle was impressive. Truly.but in your obsessive pursuit of vendetta you have become blinded." His voice ushering in the silent arrive of numerous assassins. All lined up perched along the outer ridge of the auditorium. Some ceremoniously adorned in tradition black regalement, others opting for more militarized urban attire. Rigs and harnesses draped off their shoulders and strapped along their legs.

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"Just imagine my surprise when I learned that the universe had delivered yet another Ashley." The red mask of an ancient Keijijo grandmaster eerily peered out from behind the onyx sea of shadows. "And while you are here......who's with her? Watching her, protecting her? Dont tell me you left her all alone? Unguarded. Tsk Tsk. I thought I taught you long ago. Attachments are weaknesses to be exploited. Love is a cancer. And you, boy, are riddled with it."

With each shadow induced move of intangibility, Nox's automated turrets momentary paused. Only to once again flash to live and open fire in a particular direction. Indicating that they had in fact registered the Living Legend's heat signature. But Quintus was a bonafied Kiejio, a legendary Arashikage. Hand picked and trained by the greatest master of esoteric martial arts and chi based mentor ship in the World. Surely the notion of controlling his own body heat was well within his scope of expertise. "Shall we fast forward beyond stage one and two? Lets skip right to the part where you are forced to unleash your Liafador linage. Lets see if I can cut down yet another New God" his voice echoed. Content on the continuation of cat and mouse.

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_Nox_

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"You really need to analyze your life when you're impressed by someone because they betrayed you" Even when Raysh demonstrated a tiny bit of pride mark insulted him, years ago when the Knightfall name died so did every shred of respect that Mark held for the Patriarch.

At the mention of Ashley his heart nearly fainted. How the hell did he find out? Mark wondered if there was a double agent infiltrated inside the Underground. That was the only way that he could know information that crucial, maybe even someone deep in the ranks. That's the problem with teams, there's always a rat that slips through, the next thing you know it your entire house is infected with rodent. He faked a cool and disconnected poker face.

"Besides, haven't you heard? Ashley didn't come on her own. She brought a brother who shares an awfully huge resemblance to you. Except he's not an evil asshole. (As far as I can tell). You never know with Quintus which side he's playing until it's obvious.

" FYI "Love is a cancer" sounds like the name of a Marlyn Manson song." The sad part is that he probably doesn't even know who Marlyn Manson is, he is so out of touch with modern culture that I would feel bad if he wasn't a complete psychopath. Having witnessed Quintus use the his darkness abilities before Mark kept calm, he had a counter measure in place.

"Codeword: S" The room begun lighting itself with lamps, walls had been replaced with solar panels that shone so bright they could give Thee Champion a sunburn. That should blind him unless he's wearing polarized lenses, which he I'm 50/50 on to be honest. At least it takes care of his darkness manipulation momentarily.

Footsteps of an army march shook the roof like they were the Third Reich. Anticipating that his grandfather might lower himself towards such cowardly tactics he brought a few friends of his own: Gothic's Underground. Mark didn't expect them to stand a chance against the League of Shadows, trained killers versus fanatics was a no brainer, still he didn't need them to defeat Raysh's followers but hold them back.

"You would want me to fight you like a Liafadorwouldn't you? Ferociously, without holding back, in other words dumb. I'm not stupid, I saw how that turned out for them. Even fighting like a Knightfall doesn't work against you, too much self-righteousness and guidelines, that's what got us killed in the first place. We wouldn't stoop to your level"

"The only person who could ever truly beat you was my father because he was willing to do anything to end you. That's why you've despised me since birth. For being a LeBeau. Not because I was your daughter's bastard or because I'm insufferable. No, it was the fact that I'm the son of the man who humiliated Quintus Knightfall."

Mark drew both of his Trion swords, he didn't twist them around the air like some sort of show off or anything ridiculously climatic. It was back to waiting game like at the start.