The Reapers

A light breeze disrupted the cold silence that previously plagued a fallen kingdom, the history of which had been lost to history for decades. Within this vast kingdom of burnt fields, broken and shattered architecture--an ominous purple sky with a pale-white crescent moon illuminated a seemingly abandoned warehouse.

The building stood out from the others due to its untouched exterior, yet it was evident that age had caused some slight decay. For its size it wasn't that remarkable--it could be comparable to that of a medium-sized shed for farmhouse animals.

"You've got to be shitting me, why the fuck are we here?!" A sudden voice, filled with agitation, permeated the dead atmosphere.

"Apparently that pathetic bastard, Bartem, messed up and got defeated. No real surprise. But yeah, Lancer raises a valid point--why were we all summoned?" Another voice chimed in, a conversation was made within the warehouse. Their voices echoed within the dead night.

"Heh, doesn't really matter to me, I already finished my assassination so I had plenty of free-time. By the way--Monk, Lancer. . . I haven't seen your tasty faces in a long long long time. . . Kekeke. . ." A third voice continued to extend the discussion.

"Please, stop talking, you creep."

"That's right, fuck off, ugly shit."

The first two voices responded, almost instantly. There was clear disgust and annoyance behind their words. While one of them was much more tame and reserved, the other was much more aggressive with their tone.

Within the warehouse there were only 4 people present in total:

One sat exceptionally far away from the others and were orientated completely opposite to them; they were on a small ledge, close to the roof of the building. Wearing a black cloak that covered their face and body, yet the noticeable protrusion at their right side made it apparent that they used some sort of bladed weapon.

Another person sat on the floor, his legs crossed and their back against the stone wall; they wore a black gi with dark blue outlines--an attire reminiscent of a martial artist. He had short dark-blue hair that was slightly spiked-up in the front. His deep-blue eyes were calm and relaxed, however they contained the sharpness of a predator in the wild. The others referred to him as "Monk."

Adjacent to his left was one of the other men: he stood straight with his arms crossed and rapidly tapped his feet onto the stone floor in an irritated manner. He was alarmingly tall among the four present, approximately 7 feet tall in height with a very muscular build. His most noticeable trait from his build were his large broad shoulders.

On his back was an impressively well-made scythe with a unique green hue for the blade. It was slightly longer than himself, so it had to be attached at an slanted angle that leaned towards the left side. His attire was that of a reaper, like the ones in popular tales would wear: a black cloak, had a scythe, tall, and so on.

However, his hood was off, revealing his facial features. He had a chain-earring on his left ear with a metallic skull dangling off the end of the same chain. Snow white hair styled similar to that of a fade on the sides and a spiked top.

A long scar ran across the middle of his forehead down his left eye and finally ended at the middle of the left side of his cheek. Despite the scar, and his intimidating height and size, his face was quite handsome, almost pretty-like--until you looked deeply into his eyes that screamed madness and chaos. He was referred to as "Lancer."

Finally, there was the last man in the warehouse: he had a much more lean build compared to the others described. But his limbs seemed to be longer than they should be, which gave off an eerie vibe, almost like he was some sort of freak from the circus. His attire was that of a traditional ninja--his face covered all but his eyes and a sliver of the region that his nose occupied.

His face seemed to be quite narrow, his chin was quite well pronounced from what can be gathered despite being covered. His long frame was hunched back and his hands were raised above his chest--his fingers moved about in a strange motion as he pointed himself towards the other two men. He giggled while doing so, almost as if he were mocking them. He was merely known as "Thief."

"God fucking damnit, I am actually going to slice your throat tonight, Thief-fucker!" Shouted Lancer as he stomped the floor with his foot and pointed at Thief.

"Calm down, Lancer. Archer will soon be here." Monk warned in a calm tone as he jeered his head to Lancer.

"OH FUCK! NOT THAT FUCKER!" Yelled out Lancer as he froze in place. "AHHHH, WHY DO I HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS BULLSHIT TONIGHT!?" He continued to yell, his right hand grabbed at his own forehead as he tried to ease his irritation at his own situation.

"Kekeke, it's okay, we can have some fun another night. I'll take your first time soon enough. . ."

"Hm," Monk quietly responded to Thief's strange words.

In a flash, Monk disappeared. Replaced with the sound of a loud crash as Thief was blown through the wall his back was faced against. The cause of the strike came from Monk, who stood at Thief's previous spot. Although he wasn't damaged at all, he had seemed to be able to block against the hit and was only blown back from the sheer force.

"Ohoho, what a lovely kick that was, Monk. Have you gotten even stronger than before? Beautiful, truly what refined skill you have." Thief giggled to himself as he licked the arm that blocked the kick.

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?! I WANTED TO FUCK HIM UP! GOD DAMMIT, MONK!" Lancer screamed out, completely facing the still calm Monk.

As the commotion began to unravel, the mysterious cloaked figure on the ledge merely watched the infighting commence. They did not care what happened to any of the others, this was the typical result whenever all 4 of them gathered in one spot.

However, the cloaked figure suddenly jumped down from the ledge and landed in the center of the warehouse. They were quite tall, yet still shorter than Lancer. Nevertheless, they were about 6 feet with a very similar build to that of Monk. But, if anything, much thinner.

"He's here," The cloaked figure spoke with a cold and emotionless tone.

A fairly tall figure then suddenly appeared behind Thief, who stood slightly outside due to Monk's kick.

"Oh. Damn, I kind of wanted to make it a big surprise, y'know? Way to ruin my fun, Swordsman," the mysterious figure spoke with a slightly saddened tone.

He seemed fairly young, with a very aesthetically pleasing face and a photogenic smile that he constantly maintained. His eyes were a unique hue of yellow, it almost seemed as if they glowed in the darkness of the night.

His black hair had light-gray tips, and with a pony-tail to contain the excessive length--otherwise it would fall down all the way to the middle of his back. In terms of height and physical build: he seemed to be the second tallest among the group, and his build was more on the bulky side, almost like a bodybuilder. However, just enough leanness to have extraordinary mobility. This man was known by the others as "Archer."

"Good to see you, Archer." Lancer immediately spoke the moment Archer stopped speaking. His tone gave off hints of irritation, but attempted to hide it due to sheer fear. He then went down on one knee and bowed his head before Archer to show his respect.

"Welcome back, sir, Archer." Monk spoke to him with earnest respect. He mimicked Lancer's gesture and took a knee.

"Ohoho, what a beautiful sight. It's a pleasure to see you after so long, sir, Archer." Thief spoke as he giggled quietly. He followed the others and went on his knee with his head downward.

"Yo." Said the cloaked figure, who was apparently known as Swordsman. They did not show any semblance of respect, nor any real desire to do so.

"What the fuck? Take off your god damn hood and bow down you lil' shit!" Lancer yelled out, unable to control his irritation any longer. He reached out his hand towards Swordsman, but was stopped as they slapped his hand away with a swift swipe.

"Sigh. Whatever. Also, stop calling me Swordsman. I prefer Samurai, sounds cooler." Samurai responded as they begrudgingly pulled down their hood, which revealed a surprisingly feminine face. Apparently, she was the only female in the group.

She had short black hair that barely touched her shoulders. Her eyes were a crimson-red, however they were completely expressionless, despite their brilliant hue. She wore a complete deadpan expression on her face. But, all things considered, her face was still quite beautiful. After a few seconds she forced herself to get down on one knee and stared at Archer.

"Hah. You guys are always so amusing when you're all gathered in one place. Always nice to see these fun lil' interactions." Archer laughed as he paced back and forth. He gave off a very care-free atmosphere, yet the feeling of dread slowly crept up as he continued to walk back and forth.

"You know, I didn't think Bartem was going to get all that far. I think everyone here is with me on that. But, you see, the real problem lies with who was responsible." Archer continued, his bright smile slowly faded into that of an ominous grin.

"It's those two new heroes. The Man of Stone isn't all that happy about how much they're progressing as-of-late. You know, in fact, he said something that made me chuckle a lil' bit. Hah, man, it's pretty hilarious, lemme' tell ya."

He suddenly stopped.

He turned his head to face the 4 before him. His smile was completely gone, and in its place was an expression that conveyed only malice.

"He said that they are at a point where they might be able to take us on. Hah, an amusing joke--but, alas, we are the boss's most elite men, the very strongest he has. We are the Reapers. Yet, what he said next, well, it caught me off guard. He said that they could become strong enough to defeat even me. Heh."

"What a silly thing to think of, I couldn't help but laugh at such a thought. Of course, I can't deny that they are growing quite strong by the second. These heroes, or at least the one known as "William," is quite gifted by at least one Goddess. The other is seemingly impressive as well, but not much is known about him, apparently he is a man who does more underground tasks compared to his flashy counterpart. Regardless, I believe it would be best if we personally get rid of them. Do a good ole' hunt, you could say."

He continued to speak as he stood completely still and stared at the 4.

"Now, who wants to personally go first?"

It felt like everything was frozen in place. Not even a second had passed, yet the 4 Reapers felt the immense pressure behind Archer's words. If they failed to destroy those two heroes, they would surely be killed as punishment.

They all struggled to speak. They did not fear the heroes, not one bit. They all believed they had the capability, skill, experience, ability, and confidence to kill both them and their respective groups.

However, it was Archer that they all unanimously feared. In all the years they have worked together, they had only seen him a handful of times--while he was always an eerie presence, this was the first time he showed such displeasure.

"I volunteer, sir, Archer." Monk was the first to answer after a single second had passed, though to the others it felt like hours.

"Perfect. I believe that you are more than capable enough to get rid of those pests. However, if you feel that you need any assistance, feel free to ask any of your fellow teammates." Archer switched back to his photogenic smile, the atmosphere eased back into a more relaxed feeling. He then turned his back to the other Reapers and began to walk away, but right before he prepared to disappear, he stopped and turned his head slightly back to his team.

"By the way, I'll be on a personal mission, so I'll be unavailable for a few weeks. Though, it's not like you need me, otherwise you would all be entirely useless--right?" He said in a cold and eerie tone, only a single eye made contact with the 4. "Anyways, bye bye, don't let me down." And then he vanished in an instant.

"Gods and Goddesses," Lancer whispered as he stared at the stone floor.

"Not gonna' lie guys, I may have soiled myself when he stopped his smiling act. . ." Thief blurted out. He was moving his legs around trying to make himself more comfortable.

"What the fuck?! Fuck this shit, I'm out. I'll probably just kill some fuckers before I take a nap." Lancer yelled out as he walked away. "By the way, Monk, if those heroes actually do end up befriending some strong fucks, let us know. Our asses are on the line here, too. If you get fucked, we all get fucked. Got it?"

"Yeah. I got it. Hopefully it doesn't come to that though."

". . ." Samurai remained quiet as she put her hood back on and began walking in the separate direction as Lancer.

"Oi. You aren't going to say anything? The fuck you going? The town is in the opposite direction, bitch." Lancer yells at Samurai.

"Books." She responds.

"The fuck you talking about?"

"There's a big book sale this way. They've got a certain comic series I like."

"Why the fuck does that matter?! We need to be ready to kill these fuckers in case Monk needs help! Are you a dumb bitch or something?!"

"Sorry, but Kyojuro's arc is really interesting. Need to find out what's gonna happen, been waiting a while for these volumes. See ya." Samurai responded with the same monotone voice, her deadpan face can still be seen despite her hood. However, contrasting to her monotone voice and facial expression, her left hand made a v-shaped peace sign with her middle and index fingers out. She even positioned it in front of her face so her right eye peeked out from the gap. And just like that, she vanished as well.

"Ah fuck, we're all screwed." Lancer banged his head right through the wall of the warehouse, and then proceeded to walk through it.

"Don't worry, we're fine. Thief already left without saying a word. Seems like even he is serious about this." Monk assured Lancer.

"God, it's been years since I've gotten this shitty fucking anxiety. Fucking literal years. I really am going on a killing spree once I hit a city on the way." Lancer said as he scratched his head and walked alongside Monk.

"That's fine. You do you. I'll just start the hunt as soon as possible." Monk responded as he cracked his neck.

After a few seconds they both disappeared. The night returned to quietness and dead within the fallen kingdom as the crescent moon continued to descend.