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The Impurity's Ascension

The apocalypse was here, reaping billions of lives across the world. The details of its creation, whether by machine, man, or nature, were forgotten amid the chaos. Humanity never returned to what it was, instead evolving to withstand their new reality. The strongest of this harsh era began to consolidate their strength again, creating pockets of sprawling civilization amid the wastelands. Only one civilization remained at the end of it all: a dense mound of urban sprawl known only as the City. It was the last bastion of civilization, and it was a living hell. ... In this world, a boy without memories found himself in an alleyway stained with rot. Unfamiliar sights and sensations assaulted him. Smoke stung his nose. The stench of blood crawled on his skin. He saw his future ahead, a path of cunning and brutality: Three expressionless porcelain masks. An empty smile, glassy doll eyes. Millions of eyes sewn into the night, dazzling galaxies. So many stars lit the sky, blinding his view. These were the obstacles he had to surpass, to tear from their thrones. And so began the Impurity's Ascension.

Tiphereth · Urban
Not enough ratings
141 Chs

Index

Asher put the machine next to his ear as Finn did.

Suddenly, Asher could hear much more clearly as the voices of the two people in the opposite building were picked up from the device and carried into his ear.

"...Sorry, sir. I unfortunately cannot do anything for you even if you cling to me." The girl's voice was soft, high pitched, and surprisingly young, but her tone betrayed her apathy.

Choking sobs came from the hysteric man.

"Now, take a deep breath, and read it out." The cloaked girl spoke in a patronizing tone, like a mother would to a son. It was a strange sight, considering she was clearly much younger than the man, and more than a head shorter than him as well.

"Hic... To Nolan, play any game of chance with a close friend seven times. F-For every loss, pull out twenty-three strands of their hair... Apply the strands to a bowl of live mealworms, and eat- You bastards!"

He flung the cloth scrap onto the ground. "Handing out these dogshit Prescripts! Why do I have to go through all of this!"

"Everyone faces a test of faith from the Prescripts. I hope you can overcome yours." Compared to the livid man, the short girl was as calm as a lake of water, not even flinching as the man's spittle landed on her face.

"I-I had to make risotto out of sewer water and give it to Minmi last time... and she still hasn't been able to stand up yet! Was that one of your fucking 'tests' as well!?"

The Messenger took out a handkerchief from inside her cloak and wiped her face methodically.

"The Prescripts must be done. To renounce the Prescripts is to renounce the protection of the Index."

The man clenched his fists tightly, cutting into his palm's flesh with his nails. Asher glanced at Finn, confused at everything that just happened, but Finn was still listening intently. The Messenger continued.

"You don't have much of a stable income. Could you afford the protection of the Thumb? In Section 12, the Index is the only Finger you can afford the protection of."

"..."

The man closed the door despondently, leaving the Messenger at the doorstep.

She turned around, and Asher saw her eyes were both closed shut, as if she was blind. But strangely, her head was tilted directly toward them, almost like she was staring into their souls.

Finn turned back to him, and his voice turned to a whisper.

"That was one of the Messengers, the second strongest members of the Index, just below the Proxies. If I'm a Grade 10 Fixer and Captain is a Grade 8, she would have the power about equal to a Grade 5, nearly capable of destroying an Urban Plague Syndicate all by herself." Finn remembered his Captain's Office, only capable of taking Urban Myth cases, and sighed.

Asher's jaw dropped in shock.

"S-So what's the highest Fixer grade, then?"

"The grades go from 1 to 10, and beyond Grade 1 are the Colored Fixers, the best of the best. The Hana Association assigns them special colors based on their achievements."

Asher peeked at the building again. The Messenger had disappeared.

"Anyway, let's climb down. We still have a cat to find!" Finn climbed down from the building with Asher above him.

"I have a lot of gadgets like those, by the way. Captain Yun says weak Offices like us need to take advantage of anything we can get, so I'm going to use another one to find that cat!"

Asher made a moue of impressment.

"Oh, then-"

He whipped his head around, hearing a clink of metal behind them.

"So you two were the eavesdroppers." It was the Messenger, and her unexpressive tone stated the obvious. Staring at the girl, Asher couldn't help but notice that she was smaller than she seemed at first glance, even slightly shorter than him.

Upon closer inspection, she looked younger than him, too.

But Asher didn't let down his guard.

"Asher... Don't worry, we should be fine."

"Why do you think so, Fixer?" As the Messenger said those words, Finn's shoulders relaxed, like his guess was confirmed.

"Miss Messenger hasn't gotten any Prescript to deal with us, right? People of the Index won't do anything unless their Prescript tells them to; if Miss was told to kill us, we would already be dead."

The girl tilted her head, neither in agreement nor disagreement. Asher also let out a turbid breath of relief as Finn continued.

"What name can we call you, Miss Messenger?"

"Yan."

She turned her head to the opening of the alley, hearing something.

"Someone's coming."

Asher cupped his hands to his eyes, confused.

"Wait, I don't see any-!" Five people stalked out into the dim lamp lights. They wore all blacks and greys, and four of them had a sheathed sword around their waists.

Even as they approached, they made so little sound that Asher could have attributed it to the ambient noise of the streets if he did not know better.

"Asher, I might sound like a broken record, but they are trouble."

"Spill it."

"Those people are from the Kurokumo Clan, a subsidiary Syndicate of the Thumb. Urban Plague."

Before Asher could process the information, the middle of the five, a scantily dressed woman, stepped forward. Her black hair was arranged in a bun, and she hugged her sword in such a way that outlined her breasts against the thin fabric of her kimono.

"Ara~ such a young Messenger, and here of all places? Are these little boys your Proselytes?" The woman looked down at Yan; she was nearly a head taller than Yan was.

Her tone was dangerously sweet.

Yan didn't raise her head; her eyes were still closed.

"What would you do if I said no?"

"Haha... Well of course I'm going to kill them, sweetie."

Yan's eyes furrowed.

"Why?"

The woman laughed, and the men behind joined her.

"Such hypocrisy," she spat, "don't you do whatever your Prescripts tell you to do?"

"The Prescripts are all planned. What plans do your little killing games accomplish? This must be why I haven't heard of your Clan before." The Messenger blew a strand of angel white hair out of her eyes. A flash of contempt surfaced on her expression before disappearing.

Finn and Asher gasped as the woman unsheathed her sword faster than they could react, pressing it against Yan's neck.

"I am Sayako, the Dark Cloud Blade. Utter one more word, and I slit your throat." The woman was still smiling, yet her eyes had contorted into thin slits of rage.

Yan's face was still as passive as before, not flinching at the cold blade on her neck.

"Is that so? I imagine that even your clan Patriarch wouldn't dare speak so casually to me like that."

*CRACK*

Yan's hand grabbed the blade of Sayako's sword and clenched her fist, breaking the sword in half like a pane of glass. The five Kurokumo clansmen stood dumbfounded as the shards of the sword clattered onto the ground.

The Messenger ignored their stares, her face impassive.

Yan raised her head, listening to a noise that they weren't able to hear. She began to walk away, much to Asher's shock.

"W-Wait! Yan, we're going to die if you leave us here!" Asher nearly shouted in desperation, as he saw Sayako's face turning more and more resentful at how Yan's eyes were always closed, like the girl was mocking her pride.

"The Prescripts have ordered my departure, as well as to deliver a message to Asher. The message is: 'Take advantage of this death'."

"-!" Only Asher knew what Yan's message was about, but how could she possibly know such a thing? No, how did the person behind the Prescripts know about his System? And if what the message said was true, it meant that he was going to die very soon...

Yan's figure faded away, eventually disappearing, leaving Asher and Finn surrounded by Sayako and her posse.

Finn glanced at him. The Fixer scanned the five other people, and seeing how none of them had any reaction to Yan's message, he chuckled.

"Seems like we're in deep trouble now, Asher. Do you know what that message was about?"

"Nope. Let's-"

Sayako snatched a sword from her companions, interrupting Asher's response as she flicked it open.

The woman's voice was calm and collected, but her deadly glare broke the facade.

"I'm... quite angry right now. Die loudly and painfully, please."