76 Avarice
[Word Count: 3664]
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An eerie hush followed the six-fingered hand's descent into the earth, a weighty silence that gripped both the live audience and those watching from the comfort of their homes. As the hand connected with the ground, a small cloud of dust erupted, momentarily obscuring the view and holding the collective breath of the onlookers.
The camera, struggling against the chaotic backdrop of fires and ash, gradually found its focus, revealing Leo's lone form standing resolute. His gaze was fixed on the heart of the crater, where the battle had raged with relentless fury.
The broadcast struggled to capture the scene accurately, the dim moonlight doing little to illuminate the chaos. Amidst scattered fires, the camera's focus wavered, but it finally honed in on Leo, standing alone at the center of the aftermath.
From the sanctuary of their homes and shelters, people erupted into triumphant cheers, their voices echoing off the walls as the news spread. The grueling conflict that had consumed the city, pitting a formidable devil against the indomitable devil hunter, had, at last, reached its conclusion, with Leo emerging as the victor.
"After an extended struggle of relentless back-and-forth, the entity known as the Karma Devil, as dubbed by the Public Safety, has been vanquished," the onboard news reporter declared with palpable relief as the helicopter continued its circling trajectory, capturing the decapitated aftermath below.
The helicopter's camera didn't just capture the upturned landscape; it also revealed the toll the battle had taken on Leo's once formidable form. His right arm glinted in the moonlight, the glimmers of glass fragments adorning it like crystalline jewelry.
The gaping wound on his back had ceased bleeding, leaving behind a mosaic of dried blood that stained his skin. Burn marks and lacerations marred his body, but the most prominent feature was the scar etched across the center of his face. This scar, a stark reminder of the battle's intensity, stretched from cheek to cheek, slicing through his nose before descending into his left cheek.
As the helicopter circled back to capture further images of the ravaged landscape, Leo's gaze lifted to the sky. The horizon was painted with the soft hues of dusk, the impending sunrise heralding the arrival of a new day.
However, Leo's attention was abruptly diverted as a familiar sound pierced the air – the ringing of a phone tucked in his pocket. Retrieving his phone, he wiped away the layer of ash and soot that coated the screen. The ink that marked the numbers and letters had been obliterated by the battle, along with some of the phone's paint.
Despite enduring the maelstrom of his battle against the Karma Devil, Leo's Nokia remained functional with little battery, vibrating with life as it received an incoming call.
Ai's name illuminated the top of the incoming call, a stark contrast against the dimly lit background of Leo's phone screen.
Leo stared at the phone screen with a blank expression. Taking a deep breath, Leo knew what he had to do, even if a part of him was screaming for him not to do it.
Exhaling slowly, Leo was met with an unexpected sensation — a warm liquid trickled from his nose, dribbling down his chin.
"What's up?" Leo answered the call, his voice hoarse and strained.
"Papa...?" Ruby's voice, fragile and delicate, resonated through the phone, causing Leo's heart to clench and his own voice to quiver involuntarily.
Tightening his grip on the phone, Leo fought to regain his composure. "Hey, tot..."
"P- Papa... are you... are you okay?" Ruby's voice trembled, carrying a mix of concern and vulnerability that tugged at Leo's emotions, tightening the grip of guilt that had been slowly coiling around his heart.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping in? It's still the weekend," Leo deflected, a slight strain in his tone as he wrestled with the turmoil of emotions within him.
"Papa, please... just tell me if you're okay," Ruby implored, her voice a fragile weave of fear and determination, tightly woven with threads of concern that stretched across the distance between them.
Leo sighed, his heart constricting as he grappled with the emotions stirred by his daughter's words. He knew he couldn't evade her inquiries any longer, yet the impending weight of the truth was a burden he was hesitant to impose on her young shoulders.
"Ruby, I'm... dealing with some stuff right now," Leo began carefully, his words chosen with precision as he sought the delicate equilibrium between candor and comfort.
"But you're hurt, Papa," Ruby's voice trembled, her apprehension spilling forth. "I saw it on TV... I saw you fighting."
The admission hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fears. Leo's heart ached, his paternal instincts clashing with the grim reality he was grappling with. He wished he could shield Ruby from this darkness, but he also knew that acknowledging her concerns was essential.
"I know... I know," Leo's voice softened, his own concern for his daughter intertwining with his attempt to protect her. "But sometimes, grown-ups have to deal with things that might look scarier than they actually are. It's part of my job, you know?"
"But I'm scared, Papa," Ruby confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
Leo's chest tightened, his daughter's vulnerability piercing through his defenses. "Ruby, you're a brave girl. I promise you, I'll be fine. You need to trust me on this, alright?"
There was a pause, a delicate inhale on Ruby's end, before she exhaled shakily, "Okay, Papa."
"Atta girl," Leo's voice held a mixture of relief and tenderness. "Now, how about you do me a favor and get some rest? Close your eyes. I'll see you when you fall asleep."
On the other end of the phone, Ai cradled Ruby close, her touch soothing as she gently wiped the tears from the corners of Ruby's eyes. Rocking her back and forth, Ai's presence was a comforting anchor amidst the sea of fear and concern that had kept Ruby awake throughout the night, as the family remained glued to the broadcast.
Aqua, sitting nearby, hugged his knees even closer to his chest, his eyes puffy and red from suppressed tears. He had been trying to steel himself against crying, but the weight of emotions was proving difficult to restrain, especially now that the fight had concluded.
As Ruby's eyelids grew heavy, Ai carefully laid her down on the couch, tenderly resting her head on her lap while continuing to run her fingers through her daughter's hair.
Gently extracting the phone from Ruby's grip, Ai raised it to her ear, her expression a mixture of concern and affection as she softly uttered, "Leo?"
Aqua's gaze shifted away from the TV screen, which was broadcasting Leo's battered form. He looked at Ai, who held the phone to her ear with a serene smile despite the distressing circumstances.
"Hey, Ai," Leo's voice reached her, though it was noticeably weaker than before, stripped of some of its usual strength.
"When do you think you'll be coming home?" Ai's words held their customary warmth but carried a hint of longing. "You didn't come home yesterday."
Leo's voice held a tinge of regret as he replied, "I'm sorry, Ai..."
"It's okay, just come home when you can," Ai began to say, only to be interrupted by Leo's solemn words.
"...I won't be coming home anytime soon," Leo's admission weighed heavily, hanging in the air between them like a fragile truth.
"B-But..." Ai's voice trembled, her heart clenching as Leo's words sank in.
"My heart stopped beating a while ago..." Leo's voice croaked, a moment of struggle evident in the broadcast as he stumbled back.
"Leo..." Ai whispered, her voice a mix of sorrow and disbelief.
"And now's probably a good time to let you know, I don't have life insurance... not in my name, at least. You'll need to speak with Ichigo about it," Leo continued, his voice growing weaker with each labored breath.
Ai's gaze shifted from Ruby to the TV screen, her vision blurred by tears welling up. The helicopter's view focused on Leo, his battered form hunched over, a series of violent coughs audible through the phone. On-screen, Leo attempted to mask his bloody coughs by raising his arm to cover his mouth.
Sinking to his knees, Leo gradually straightened his back, the exhaustion etched across his features. From the wreckage behind him, a figure with yellow hair began to approach.
Sitting back, Leo crossed his legs and settled onto the ground with a heavy sigh, and for a moment, all they could hear was the distant rumble of destruction and chaos that had become the backdrop of their lives.
Tears flowed down Ai's cheeks unabated, her grip on the phone tightening as she clung to it as if trying to bridge the growing distance between her and Leo. His weakening voice resonated in her ears, each word a painful reminder of the situation's gravity. Her voice wavered as she struggled to form a coherent response, the weight of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
Against the backdrop, the broadcast unfolded, capturing Leo's exhaustion as he gradually descended to the ground, the toll of the unrelenting battle etched across his battered form. The figure with yellow hair drew nearer, casting a solemn shadow over the scene.
As the weight of reality bore down, Leo's voice softened, as though he was sharing his thoughts aloud. "I wish... I wish I could have been there for you, Ruby, and Aqua... like I promised."
Ai's heart clenched, the ache of his words resonating deep within her. The absence he spoke of, both physically and emotionally, felt like a chasm that threatened to engulf them. "Leo, you've always done your best for us," she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion.
His breath hitched, the vulnerability in Ai's words cracking his facade. He longed to offer her comfort, to hold her close and assure her that everything would eventually find its way back to normalcy. But the circumstances were far from ordinary, and his control over them was tenuous at best, and would only get worse as things reached their peak.
"I'll always look out for you..." Leo's voice was barely audible as if fading into the distance.
"Leo..." Ai's voice trembled, her fingers clutching the phone with a mix of desperation and longing.
"...yeah... that's what I'll do..." Leo's words hung in the air, imbued with both love and acceptance.
A solemn silence settled between them, the connection holding on by a fragile thread. Ai pressed the phone to her lips, her tears falling onto the screen as she whispered, "I love you, Leo."
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Leo's gaze turned distant, his ears registering only static through the phone. As he looked at the screen, the call had concluded with Ai's heartfelt declaration.
"No signal" remained stubbornly displayed at the top of the screen, where the signal bars should have been. Then, as if mirroring his emotions, the Nokia's battery succumbed to exhaustion. The call's conclusion echoed a somber truth—just as the signal faded before the phone, so had his connection to his loved ones.
Clutching the phone, Leo rested his arm on his lap, his gaze fixed on the horizon before him.
A few feet away stood the figure with yellow hair, an enigmatic presence in this bleak moment.
"I'll be seeing you... Kishibe," Leo's voice emerged like a whisper carried by the wind.
Kishibe's response was succinct, matching his typically stoic demeanor. "Yeah..."
With those parting words, Leo's body seemed to surrender to the exhaustion that had been lurking within him. His head drooped, his shoulders slumping.
Kishibe's expression remained unchanged, a testament to his experience in witnessing the fall of numerous students. Leo's fate was no exception.
Unscrewing the cap of his flask, Kishibe took a long swig before pouring the remaining contents onto the ground, a quiet tribute to a fallen comrade.
In the distance, the sound of an approaching vehicle grew louder, intermittently bouncing along the uneven terrain.
The helicopter that had been documenting the scene began its departure back to the base for refueling, having captured the pivotal moments.
The news of Leo's passing spread to all corners of the audience, the previous cheers replaced by a somber hush, except for one place: the Oval Office.
"It's time," the President's voice was a low murmur as he rose from his seat, a decisive aura enveloping him.
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An approaching van screeched to a halt a few feet away from the scene, and four men in black suits briskly emerged. They hurried towards Leo, striding past Kishibe, and scooped him up as if he were mere luggage.
Kishibe's gaze briefly intersected with Leo's as they carried him back to the van. Leo's once-prideful eyes, usually a distinct black color, were now clouded and lifeless.
Two more men emerged from the van, holding open its rear doors for their comrades and their lifeless cargo.
The President of the United States, in the sanctity of the Oval Office, peered out the window and uttered two words that carried an ominous weight, "Gun Devil..."
The van's door slammed shut with an air of finality.
"...I offer you five years of the lifespan of every American citizen..."
Inside the van, Leo lay still.
"...in exchange..."
Abruptly, the van began to shudder, and its doors were forcefully kicked open.
Kishibe swiftly pivoted, his seasoned eyes capturing the unfolding scene. His breath caught as he saw Leo stepping out of the van, an apparition of vitality. The once-marred canvas of Leo's body seemed to have undergone a miraculous restoration. The burn marks that had marred his form were conspicuously absent, his once-mangled arm miraculously whole. A sinuous scar now adorned his face, it went cheek to cheek cutting through his nose before it descended onto his right cheek
Most astonishingly, his eyes no longer bore their customary black hue; they glowed with an unsettling shade of red. Of even greater astonishment were the rings around his irises, eerily reminiscent of Makima's.
Stepping onto the uneven terrain, Leo drew a deep breath before a malevolent smirk curled his lips.
Kishibe's heart skipped a beat, and his body reacted instinctively. He drew his knife from his coat and lunged at Leo, driven by a mix of shock and determination.
In a fraction of a second, Kishibe's blade struck Leo's head repeatedly, the absence of blood momentarily perplexing him. Yet, his confusion shifted to pure shock as Leo's crimson eyes bore into his own, unflinching and unyielding.
Not a single drop of blood marred Leo's appearance as he calmly regarded Kishibe. His reaction to the violent assault was not fear or pain, but rather annoyance.
Summoning his own weapon, a knife materialized through the Glass Devil's power, and Leo prepared to retaliate. However, his momentum faltered as he suddenly sniffed the air.
His footsteps carried him away from Kishibe, and Leo's actions dislodged the knife from his head. The wound sealed itself seamlessly, leaving no trace of the previous assault.
Sniffing the air again, Leo's lips curled into a sinister smile.
"Gun Devil," Leo muttered, his voice laced with unsettling confidence, before vanishing into the wind with a gust that pushed Kishibe back.
Left in a state of bewildered shock, Kishibe stared at the spot Leo had occupied just moments ago. His daze was broken by a thud near the van, where Leo had emerged.
Gripping his knife, Kishibe approached the fallen figure, using the van for support.
In one swift motion, Kishibe seized the person's shoulder and slammed them against the van. His demand was sharp, edged with urgency, "Who was that?"
Blood trickled from his mouth, staining his white undershirt a gruesome red, the injured individual managed to meet Kishibe's gaze despite the agony. Deep lacerations marred their body.
With a raspy exhale, they met Kishibe's intense gaze. "Public Safety's... War Fiend..."
Just before Kishibe could pose another question, the morning sun's light began to spread proudly over the horizon, heralding the arrival of a new day.
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June 18th, 1997
In the early hours on the shores of Nikaho City, located within the Akita prefecture, a pungent scent of iron wafted through the air, catching the attention of local authorities and a nearby church group. Dispatching a reporter to investigate the situation, a local news station inadvertently set in motion a revelation that would reverberate across the globe.
However, what they captured on camera wasn't just images of the notorious Gun Devil. Instead, the lens bore witness to the devil's eviscerated remains, with countless skulls—the very building blocks of the devil's formidable form—scattered across the ocean's surface. Massive firearms, each on a scale matching a building, lay strewn amidst the waters, dyeing them crimson with the devil's blood. The putrid tang of iron pervaded the air, reaching up to a distance of 3.5 kilometers along the beach.
Even before five minutes had elapsed since Tokyo Public Broadcasting had solemnly declared Leo's demise, the truth emerged that he had defied death, standing tall over the mutilated Gun Devil's corpse.
The news helicopter, previously engaged in recording Leo's battle against the Karma Devil, barely had time to refuel before it was speeding across Japan, racing from Tokyo to Nikaho City to verify the staggering turn of events.
As it approached the coast, the initial sight was the crimson-stained expanse of the ocean. The pervasive scent of blood was undeniable. Within view, the mangled remains of the Gun Devil's colossal head jutted out of the water, its oversized gun barrel riddled with gaps and sharp bite marks.
Drawing nearer, the helicopter caught sight of the devil's dismembered body, its severed skulls adorning the water's surface and littering the nearby shore.
Approaching the heart of the spectacle—the devil's torso— the onboard announcer provided a detailed narration.
"The Gun Devil, a specter that has cast its shadow over Japan for over a decade, has been felled. Yet the enigma surrounding the identity of its vanquisher persists," the announcer intoned, the helicopter circling the scene to capture every angle.
The lifeless body of the Gun Devil sprawled across the scene, its dimensions oddly magnified. The proportions appeared grotesquely excessive in comparison to the images preserved from its initial global rampage. Whether this transformation was due to the terror it had invoked over the years or some undisclosed factor remained enigmatic.
The camera's lens adjusted, zeroing in on the Gun Devil's massive torso. Amidst the gruesome landscape of scattered skulls, a solitary figure emerged. The familiar black hair swayed gently in the wind, an anchor of recognition in the midst of the uncanny.
The euphoria surrounding the Gun Devil's defeat was momentarily suspended as the camera intensified its focus, unveiling the one responsible for toppling the formidable devil.
Leo stood prominently, his form front and center, his head slightly bowed, fixated on his blood-smeared hands. His previous injuries had vanished entirely. Were it not for the residual traces of dried blood marring his skin, and the memories from the preceding broadcast, one might never have guessed that he had teetered on death's precipice.
The void that once was a hole in his back had closed, the only remnants being stains of his own blood. His once mangled right arm was now whole, devoid of even the faintest scar. The burn marks, like a distant memory, had vanished without a trace.
The scene should have erupted in jubilation, a triumphant climax where the dread-inducing Gun Devil met its demise at the hands of one returned from the brink of death. Yet, the atmosphere was tinged with reluctance, a hesitation to celebrate what should have marked a day of elation.
The circling helicopter offered an encompassing view, elucidating the reason behind this restrained response. It showcased the striking scar that ran across Leo's face—a mar from cheek to cheek, descending his left cheek, a sinister mark demanding attention. More unsettling were his once-vibrant black eyes, now replaced by a baleful crimson.
This was not the Leo they knew, nor even a semblance of him.
The somber voice of the helicopter announcer reverberated, its tone quivering as it relayed the news station's directives.
"Barely ten minutes following his reported demise, Leo's body was been surrendered to a devil's possession. The... The Leo we saw only moments ago succumb to his injuries is no more. In his stead stands Public Safety's War Devil... or now, better recognized as the War Fiend... the mightiest devil hunter... transmuted into the mightiest fiend..." The palpable sorrow in the announcer's voice mirrored the collective desolation, a conclusion none wished for—neither he nor the multitude watching in shared distress.
Captured by the camera, Leo elevated his hands, the crimson hue on his palms gleaming with the ascending sun. Gradually, his vacant countenance transformed, contorting into a malevolent grin... then erupting into laughter.
Captured by the lens, Leo's hands rose skyward, the crimson stain on his palms glistening under the mounting sun. Gradually, the once vacant countenance shifted into a malevolent grin, then transformed into a resounding laughter.
The camera lingered on Leo's figure, capturing the eerie radiance of his red eyes, the unsettling scar that marred his face, and the twisted grin that seemed to mock the world itself. It was a sight that would be etched into the memories of all who watched, a symbol of how the line between savior and fiend could blur.
The sun's ascent continued, casting an ethereal luminosity over the tableau. Leo's laughter reverberated, a symphony of lunacy and dominion, an audible manifesto heralding the genesis of this new entity, born from the ashes of the fierce battle and greed.
With the camera unswerving in its focus, the world held its collective breath, conscious that this dawn bore witness not only to the closure of one epoch but also the commencement of another. Whether that dawned as a harbinger of good or the herald of darkness, only the passage of time could tell.
