Midnight had settled over the Undercity, the narrow streets illuminated only by scattered neon signs and makeshift lanterns. At a small food stall nestled between dilapidated buildings, an elderly vendor prepared meals for the few customers brave enough to venture out after dark.
The relative peace shattered when twenty men surrounded the stall, their intentions clear from their predatory grins and gleaming weapons.
"This place is ours now," the leader growled, running a blade along the edge of the counter. "And you're on the menu tonight, old man."
The vendor backed away, hands trembling as he begged for mercy.
A flash of azure light cut through the darkness. Before anyone could react, half the gang stood motionless for a heartbeat—then collapsed as their heads slid from their shoulders.
Blood sprayed across the pavement as the remaining men scrambled for weapons, eyes wide with terror. They glimpsed only a hovering blue katana, its edge glistening crimson in the dim light.
The blade moved with impossible speed, slicing through flesh and bone as if they were paper. Bodies fell in perfectly bisected halves, faces frozen in expressions of shock and terror.
As suddenly as the carnage began, it ended. The katana floated back to a figure who now stood where there had been only shadow moments before. Standing at about 170cm, he wore a midnight-blue coat that rippled like water despite the still air. A matching ninja mask covered his lower face, revealing only piercing blue eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light.
With practiced precision, he caught the katana's hilt and sheathed it in one fluid motion.
"Don't worry," he told the trembling vendor, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You're safe now."
Then he vanished, leaving only a subtle blue afterimage that faded within seconds.
Across the district, a young girl no more than seven years old sprinted through a narrow alleyway, tears streaming down her face as two burly men pursued her. Her small legs carried her as fast as they could, but the gap was closing rapidly.
"Help me!" she screamed between desperate gasps for air. "They're trying to take me! Please... somebody help!"
The men's laughter echoed off the concrete walls as they closed in, hands outstretched to grab her.
In an instant, the girl disappeared from their view. Confusion replaced their cruel anticipation as they skidded to a halt, searching frantically.
Twenty meters away, the girl found herself beside the blue-clad figure, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder.
"Blue Flash," she whispered in awe, recognition and relief washing over her tear-stained face.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "You're safe now."
His left eye pulsed faintly as he turned toward her pursuers. Through his enhanced vision, he could see their physical weaknesses highlighted in red—pressure points, structural vulnerabilities in their bodies, even the optimal cutting paths to ensure instant death.
He materialized before the men, his hand already drawing the katana in an iaido stance. The blade sang as it sliced through the air, faster than the human eye could track. The men hadn't even registered his presence before their bodies separated into precisely cut segments.
Blue Flash cleaned his blade with a single flick and returned it to its sheath, continuing his patrol through the district's shadows.
The two men, as it happened, had been the prized enforcers of Vance, one of the Undercity's wealthiest power brokers. Upon learning of their deaths, Vance's face contorted with fury. He summoned his advisors immediately.
"Find me the deadliest mercenaries in the Undercity," he commanded, tossing a heavy pouch onto the table. Gold coins spilled across the surface. "I want the Blue Flash's head for what he's done."
An advisor leaned forward. "The Black Feathers, sir. They're the ones who took down Dragon."
Vance's eyes narrowed. "Contact them. One million Alphas for proof of the vigilante's death."
***
Three months had passed since the Dragon mission. In the Black Feathers' underground base, Michael, Jake, Junk, and Flowers trained with renewed intensity. Their near-defeat had been a harsh lesson—one they wouldn't forget.
Michael moved through a complex sequence of dagger strikes, his movements fluid and precise. Across the training floor, Jake demolished reinforced practice dummies with his hammers, while Junk and Flowers engaged in rapid-fire target practice.
The door swung open, and Alphonse entered. The team immediately stopped their drills, sensing the urgency in their leader's stride.
"New mission," Alphonse announced, his voice grave. "More dangerous than Dragon, but the payout..." He paused, allowing a rare smile to cross his features. "One million Alphas. Enough for all of us to buy passage to the Uppercity."
The team exchanged glances. The Uppercity—their ultimate goal, the promised land above the pollution and violence that defined their daily existence.
"Who's the target?" Flowers asked, already checking her rifle.
"They call him the Blue Flash. A vigilante who's been disrupting operations in the eastern district." Alphonse spread a crude map across the table. "Our client wants his head."
Within the hour, the Black Feathers were suited up and making their way through the labyrinthine streets of the Undercity's eastern district.
"So how do we find him now that we're here?" Junk asked, adjusting his scope.
Alphonse surveyed the quiet streets. "This area is known as the safest in the Undercity because of him. He responds to crime almost instantly." A calculated smile spread across his face. "Jake, destroy that abandoned building. Draw him out."
Jake grinned, raising his massive hammer. Before it could connect with the structure, a blue streak flashed through the air. Jake's hammer—along with his right hand—fell to the ground, cleanly severed.
Blue Flash materialized beside him, katana gleaming. "I spared you because you're young," he said, his voice cold. "There won't be a second warning." With blinding speed, he struck Jake's temple with the hilt of his sword, dropping the young mercenary unconscious.
Alphonse's expression hardened. "Attack! Protect Jake!"
Michael rushed to Jake's side while the others formed a defensive perimeter. Blue Flash vanished again, leaving only a fading azure trail.
"Where did he—" Junk's question died in his throat as the katana reappeared, seemingly suspended in air, hurtling toward him at impossible speed.
Junk raised his sniper rifle as a shield, but the blade sliced through metal and flesh with equal ease, claiming his left eye before the hilt struck his head, rendering him unconscious.
Blue Flash materialized again, his left eye glowing with an ethereal light. Through his enhanced vision, he could see every weakness in their formation, every vulnerability in their bodies. Red markers highlighted optimal strike points, and predictive lines showed him exactly how each opponent would move seconds before they did.
Alphonse lunged for the katana, but it swerved at the last moment, piercing his chest with surgical precision—deep enough to incapacitate but avoiding vital organs.
Blue Flash appeared before him, gripping the sword. "You disgust me," he snarled. "Using children to do your dirty work. How many more will you sacrifice for your greed?"
From her position, Flowers opened fire, her bullets cutting through the air with deadly accuracy. Blue Flash turned, his enhanced eye tracking each projectile's trajectory before it left the barrel. His katana moved in a blur, deflecting every shot with perfect precision.
"A little girl with such deadly skill," he observed, his voice tinged with sadness. "What have they done to you?"
In a burst of speed, he closed the distance between them. One precise strike to her abdomen left Flowers doubled over, gasping for breath before unconsciousness claimed her.
Michael stood protectively over Jake's bleeding form, daggers drawn as Blue Flash approached.
"I can't believe a kind soul like you serves this man," Blue Flash said, studying Michael with his enhanced eye. "I'll end your suffering quickly."
He lunged forward, katana aimed to deliver a merciful death, but to his surprise, Michael's daggers intercepted the strike. The metals clashed with a shower of sparks.
Blue Flash's enhanced eye widened slightly. "Impressive reflexes, kid."
His eye pulsed brighter, analyzing Michael's stance, predicting his movements, identifying weaknesses. Red markers highlighted vulnerable points across Michael's body—the slight favoring of his right leg, the microscopic delay in his left-hand reactions.
"Why do this?" Michael demanded, parrying another strike. "What do you gain from being a vigilante in this hellhole?"
Blue Flash moved like water, each strike flowing into the next. "Peace. Happiness. I'll transform this dystopia into something better, one night at a time."
Their blades danced in deadly harmony. Though Michael fought with everything he had, Blue Flash's predictive abilities gave him an insurmountable advantage. He saw Michael's moves before they happened, countering with perfect precision.
With calculated precision, Blue Flash slipped past Michael's guard, his katana drawing a thin line across the young mercenary's arm.
Michael screamed in pain, the sound echoing off the concrete walls.
Blue Flash froze, his enhanced eye dimming slightly. Something about the cry struck a chord within him—a fragment of memory, perhaps, or a reminder of innocence long forgotten.
He lowered his weapon. "What am I doing?" he whispered. "Almost killing a child..."
Stepping back, he sheathed his katana. "Be careful around the adults of this place, kid. They'll use you until there's nothing left."
With those words, he vanished into the night, leaving only a fading blue afterimage.
***
Hours later, back at their base, Michael and Flowers administered healing injections to their fallen comrades. Jake's severed hand couldn't be reattached, and Junk's eye was beyond salvation. Alphonse's chest wound had been precisely inflicted—painful but non-lethal.
When everyone had regained consciousness, Alphonse gathered them in the common room, his face haggard with guilt.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I endangered all of you. We weren't ready for something like this."
Jake looked down at his bandaged stump. "So what now?"
"We train harder," Michael said, determination hardening his features. "And next time, we'll be prepared."
Flowers nodded agreement, her expression grim. "The Blue Flash is still out there."
"And so are we," Alphonse concluded, his resolve returning. "This isn't over."