The Death.

Beneath the abandoned building the Apex Predators used for their headquarters, Luna sat behind a desk, resting her head on the cluttered table.

"Excuse me? Big sister?" One of her siblings knocked on her office door.

Perking up her head after being startled awake, the Head rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned, smiling at the approaching sister.

"Yes?"

"Everything's ready. All we need now is your confirmation, Miss Amana."

"Hm?" Luna gradually stood up. Setting aside the chair, she paced around the desk. "Oh, dear sister. You need not honor me with formalities like 'Miss' or using my last name. Quite frankly…" Throwing the coat over her back, she made for the entrance, sinisterly grinning while time slowed around her. "…it disgusts me to the core."

Meanwhile, Muhammad, standing tall on a building rooftop, removed a hand from his earpiece. Simultaneously, across the vast City of the Gate, the numerous other Predators stationed everywhere received identical orders. Just then, Atlas finishing paperwork at his desk and smoking a cigarette, felt his eyes reflexively widen.

'Multiple Fate signatures have appeared throughout the city; each stronger than the last!' He shot up from the chair and started laughing, throwing the cost over his chest before leaping off the balcony. "NOW, LET'S HAVE SOME FUN!"

Muhammad put a hand on his earpiece. "Atlas spotted. Your orders?" He watched the Progenitor leap across the rooftops.

"Wait there, I'll be arriving shortly," Luna said.

"Are you sure? The way he's moving now—I can feel it. A rampage is about to begin."

"That's fine." Luna held the phone close to her ear and peered out the window. "Most of them are bastards anyway. Sacrificing a few useless pawns works in our favor. Stand back and watch for now, brother. We'll steal victory when the time is right. I promise."

Muhammad's hand lowered once more. 'Still, something feels off. He should still be jumping across the rooftops in an attempt to close the distance and slaughter our other siblings. But… I don't think he did. In fact—where did he even go?!'

Luna pocketed the phone back into her pocket and sighed, still staring out the window. Just when she was enjoying a moment of peace, a piercing scream burst into her ears.

"MISS AMANA! THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE ROAD—!!"

The all-black silhouette in the street unsheathed his sword and sliced the vehicle in two right down the middle. While the powerless driver perished from the cut, Luna jumped into the air, landing down the street away from Atlas.

"You're the Head, right? Of Apex Predator?"

Luna smirked. "Why, of course not! I'm just an innocent woman who was attacked by our great leader!" She covered her forehead with one hand. "Just what will I do in the face of such adversity!"

"Who even says that..?" Amit sighed. "Listen, brat, I don't have time for your games. Offer me your Predestined Power and I'll make sure to give you a swift death," he said.

"Hah!" She laughed. "What're you, stupid? Like hell I'm giving up my technique!"

"That's unfortunate then."

A futuristic sword conjured from Luna's purple aura. Throwing it overhead, Atlas raised his blade, clashing the darkness into her metal. She leaned back, continuously dodging the imminent slashes curving from the steel. Amana jumped back and raised her fingers, angling over the Progenitor's lean figure.

'Instinctual Awakening.'

The Predator lingering behind her finally moved. A blast flew from the eye on its temples and shot into the sidewalk, ridding the concrete of its shape as Atlas weaved away.

'It's an emission-projectile type? No… that's not it.' He looked back at the ground. It wasn't crumbled like normal. Instead, it was unnaturally transformed to resemble a puddle of lava. 'I see! A transmutation conditional spiritual familiar.'

"Anything my Predator touches with its blast is changed into whatever I desire. It's curious. Its technique requires emission yet focuses on alteration. Fate's an odd system, isn't it?"

Atlas leaped after and slashed at her throat. Luna had already landed when his sword sliced the air—her right hand extended.

"As I said, Fate's an odd system. Because my technique can be used to give opponents more power. That's why it's so powerful—because of the implanted drawback. Luckily, my technique's not etched into my aura, so I can do this without worrying about empowering you."

A blast burst from her palm and flew at the Progenitor. He smirked.

'She talks too much.'

Atlas swiped away the bolt from mid-air and vanished. After reappearing behind her, he kicked at the back of her head, just watching the Predator react and halt him. Just about to invoke its technique, Amit slashed down; stripping the beast of its arm. Luna jumped back and sighed, following Atlas's movements with her trusty sword drawn.

Every moment her eyes tracked his figure, the Progenitor glitched forward—dashing ahead and cutting at her head. She sliced away his attack with but one swipe from her sword, kicking him in the gut before punching him in the cheek. Atlas reeled back from the kick and caught her fist, stabbing through her arm with the length of his sword.

She bit her lip, simultaneously leaping back, glaring at the steel. Atlas uppercut her into the air and jumped, kicking Luna back down the street they were fighting on. Leaking blood from her wounds, Amana flew back, landing in a net composed of Fate behind her. Amit pounced after him with cocked-back knuckles, watching the Apex roll out of the way and throw her sword at his face.

His hand caught it. Staring straight ahead, Amit's eyes widened; shocked to observe his opponent's disappearance. A spontaneous grip clutched around his throat following Luna's descent from the clouds. Lifting his weight, the woman threw the Progenitor over his shoulder, hearing him thud into the ground.

She lifted Atlas by his long black hair, applying her technique and gifting him a Predator. While she knew this would empower him, Luna luckily remembered her technique's second condition.

"Anyone infected with my technique is forced to obey my direct commands. Sorry but… enter the atmosphere."

She stepped back and lowered her hand, letting her purple hair flow while Atlas shot from the ground, blasting through the sky.

Warping from the street, she reappeared above him, kicking Atlas in the spine to send him into the city.

The sheer force emanating from her fist meeting the Progenitor's cheek dispersed the surrounding clouds until nothing but blue remained. He smashed through a building's rooftop and continued falling through the many levels, crashing out the front entrance into another building on the curb. Luna hovered in the sky with glowing purple eyes, summoning her Predator so it could ready its blast.

Atlas stepped from the crater and rubbed his shoulder, sighing into the air while his black hair moved. He hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Not bad." Mist leaked off him, darkness engulfed Atlas, the only thing bright about him being the sinister smirk etched across his lips. His arm extended, glowing from the hole dug into his palm. "Don't hold back anymore. Shower me with blows and develop an opening… all for the sake of that technique's acquirement!"

…

One day after Apollo's initial memory, he found himself awake early in the morning and walking to school. The vast blue sky riddled with clouds overhead sparkled in his bright-emerald eyes; in tandem with the sun illuminating his cheek. Eventually, he'd pluck the headphones from his ear upon arriving, staring up at the towering school building with other students entering.

"Hey!"

He squinted at the waving figure standing by the entrance. Thanks to how short she was and the long pink hair on her back, Apollo immediately deduced it was Aella.

'No wonder she didn't respond when I called her.'

He waved back and watched her enter, rolling his eyes. However briefly, he stopped once more, staring up at the facility while rubbing his nape.

'Welp,' he sighed. 'Let's just do this.'

And so, the school day went on; feeling slow sometimes and rather fast others.

In the second-to-last period of the day, Aella and Apollo had the same class. To add to the chaos, they were sitting next to each other, currently exchanging notes. After hastily scribbling on the miniature paper, Moloch threw it at his sister. She quickly caught it from mid-air and spread it open, scanning the words etched into the disposable.

'Your face is really ugly,' it said.

She glared at her brother, who glanced at her and smirked, sticking out his tongue before returning to the assignment. Angrily slamming the paper on her desk, her pen stuck up as she hastily wrote—creating more insults that degraded her sibling. She threw it at his head. Apollo let it hit his skull. Catching it, he impatiently spread the messy paper open and read. That was until the teacher's shadow cast over him with one hand extended.

The old man had bags under his voided eyes and long black hair parted in the middle, resting on his back. "How old are you two? And here I thought you'd at least gained some maturity compared to last year," he said.

Snatching the note from Apollo, the instructor went to the front, opening the paper to reveal its contents. He scoffed.

"Aella Raven. Apollo Moloch. Report to the principal's office immediately."

Apollo shrugged. Rising from the seat, he slid over, pulling open the door while Aella lagged. She flipped out the teacher with a stuck-out tongue as her older brother left.

"HEY!" She pointed at Apollo. "WHY'D YOU LISTEN? YOU SHOULDA CURSED THAT ASSHOLE THE HELL OUT!"

"Ay, you're too loud." He sighed. "Wasn't worth the energy. He's gonna call mom and dad if we don't go," he started walking. "So let's just go."

Raven reluctantly followed her brother. At the end of their walk, they stood before the principal's office—devoid of students within the chamber. It was abnormal that no one was there. Nevertheless, Apollo ignored his words, grabbing the knob before pushing open the door. The moment his foot stepped over the edge bordering the entrance and corridor, an unfathomable pressure weighed into his shoulders. Apollo's composure instantly fell at malice's stench, unconsciously advancing while sweat leaked from his face.

Aella didn't notice her sibling's heightened anxiety. Only when they turned the corner and spotted the desk close to the right-most wall with the principal behind did her eyes widen as well. The darkness engulfing the man's entire body hid the shape of his face. Nevertheless, Apollo was sure of it. The sheer bloodlust peeling from the principal's soul was akin to the aura encompassing their older brother's soul—but blacker. Deeper. Scarier.

The sheer fear emanating from their forms infected their skin with goosebumps. They couldn't even question why he was so frightening; they just reacted physically, like that was all they could do. But while Aella was completely paralyzed, her expanded peripheral noticed her brother had vanished. The wide-open door revealed the long hallway, not to mention Apollo running down it as quickly as possible.

"A-Apollo?"

Just when she was in fear for her life and felt betrayed by her sibling, the malice's source abruptly vanished. Furthermore, when she looked back at the desk, there was nobody there. It didn't make sense. Why would that pressure antagonize them both but abandon her? Only after herself that question did she quickly realize.

'That pressure wasn't meant to antagonize us both, only Apollo! But why? What's so special about him?' She thought back to Samael last night. 'Sam told us that the difference between a Fate user and a non-Fate user is insurmountable. The only ones who must've felt that pressure have to have been me and Apollo! In other words, that antagonizer's unspoken attack was meant to directly target us both as Fate users! But how? How could they have known that we'd become Fate users in less than a day?'

While the pressure faded for Aella, it followed Apollo as he ran out the doors and dashed down the street. The security guard attempted to chase after the escaped student, but his speed was far superior. By the time the old officer ran out the door, Moloch finished sprinting—vanishing entirely from the man's point of view.

'Don't look back! Just keep running!' His teeth clenched. 'I have to get it away from Aella or it'll kill HER too!'

He looked back. A blackened cloud was quite literally flying after him, leaking an ominous aura from its bottom; effectively disturbing the boy's jog. But he advanced regardless. For the sake of protecting his sister—he'd close any distance, no matter how wide.

It all culminated when he finally arrived home. Stumbling onto the front porch, Apollo collapsed, panting uncontrollably and occasionally hyperventilating. Nevertheless, he'd made it.

As Apollo raised from the carpet, venting a sigh, his hand grabbed the front door's knob.

'Mom and Dad are home, so it should be unlocked in case any of us come home early and we don't tell them because our phones died. They're in there! Both of them are pains in the ass but if I explain thoroughly the danger Aella's in, they'll surely listen! All I have to do… is open the door.'

But something was missing; Apollo's logic was full of holes. The whole ordeal began because of an overwhelming signature that scared him to the core. So much so that it made him fear for not only his life but his sister's as well. In an attempt to save her, he succumbed to his reflexes and ran out of the school, making his way to the safest possible place: their home. In layman's terms, Apollo Moloch, who tried to flee to save his sister, ran back home to his mother and father, who he was sure could fix this.

The obvious choice to dispel the curse wasn't his parents, but Samael. Apollo's older brother lived fifteen minutes away from the school he ran from. Compared to his parent's home, which was ten minutes away, he chose the shorter route. But why? Even if it was five extra minutes, collapsing in the middle of the road on the way to his brother would make so much more sense.

This is all conjecture. Nothing can change where Apollo, blinded by fear and instinct, chose to run. Because of that, when he opened the door, the young boy was met with gruesome scenery.

Standing in the living room with his drawn-black sword painted red at the tip dripping blood, the murderer in black looked at the entrance, smirking at Apollo. The boy couldn't make sense of it. Was this real?

"W-what?"

Atlas put a finger on his lips. "It's so nice to finally meet you… Apollo Moloch."