Nocturnal Vigilance

As Michael plummeted through the night air, his senses heightened, and his mind focused solely on the task ahead; To eradicate The Corrupted Ones and free the city from the ongoing attack by Jolain. With practiced precision, he reached for the coiled rope dart hanging at his side, feeling its familiar weight in his hand. As he neared the ground, he swung the rope dart in a wide arc, the metal tip slicing through the air with a sharp whistle.

It hit the skyscraper next to his penthouse and with a strong grip, Michael swung in the air towards the next skyscraper. This jungle of concrete was more than helpful for mobility and Michael knew exactly how to take advantage of it.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Michael surveyed the scene below him. The streets were deserted, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights and the occasional flicker of neon signs. But Michael knew better than to let his guard down. In the darkness, the unseen dangers of Jolain's puppets lurked, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

As Michael plummeted through the night air, his senses heightened, and his mind focused solely on the task ahead. With practiced precision, he reached for the coiled rope dart hanging at his side, feeling its familiar weight in his hand. As he neared the ground, he swung the rope dart in a wide arc, the metal tip slicing through the air with a sharp whistle.

With a flick of his wrist, Michael released the rope dart, sending it snaking downward toward the street below. The metal tip embedded itself into the concrete with a satisfying thud, anchoring Michael in place as he swung through the air.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Michael surveyed the scene below him. The streets were deserted, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights and the occasional flicker of neon signs. But Michael knew better than to let his guard down. In the darkness, unseen dangers lurked, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

With a quick jerk of the rope, Michael propelled himself forward, swinging from building to building without effort. Each swing brought him closer to his destination, his movements fluid and precise as he navigated the urban jungle with ease.

As he reached the final building, Michael launched himself into the air one last time, his body soaring through the night sky before landing gracefully on the pavement below. With a satisfied smile, he straightened his jacket and adjusted his grip on the rope dart, as he observed the MMA stadium before him. 

He was sure he could hear the sounds of some sort of announcement. Had the creatures not attacked? If they hadn't, then Michael was in luck. It meant there had been no casualties, yet. He flashed towards the building in a blink, too fast for the guards outside to notice. He immediately swung the rope dart and ascended the building, reaching its roof. 

It was dark here, except for the little light because the stadium was open from the center. He walked up to the edge of the ceiling and looked down below into the octagon. There was some sort of announcement going on. The looks on people's faces seemed a little worried. What was he talking abou-

Michael jerked his rope dart at the perfect moment, as the rope dart caught The Corrupted One lunging into the middle of the stadium midair. Its momentum abruptly halted as it was yanked back towards him. With a swift punch to the face, Michael dispatched the creature before it could even touch the ground. But something wasn't right. Why was this one coming from outside the stadium? He couldn't see them anywhere in the arena, but he could pick up their aura. Were they waiting for Michael? 

He looked around the roof and saw multiple of The Corrupted Ones taking advantage of the low visibility of the environment. Michael sighed and, without hesitation, swiftly finished them off in a heartbeat. But with each passing moment, the situation grew only more confusing.

Michael walked back to the edge and tried to listen in on the announcement to no avail.

Suddenly, all the lights pointed upwards. They must have spotted something on the ceiling, obviously him, but a purple glare fought them down midway, creating a gradient of colors in the air. Michael realized it to be emanating from his very own eye. It must've been what Gerim was talking about.

He had no choice, he had to go down to them. With a quick flick of his wrist, Michael attached the Metal tip of his dart to a sturdy beam on the ceiling. Without any delay, he jumped down, gripping the rope tightly with his hand. The wind whipped past him as he descended, and halfway down, he snatched back his rope dart, gracefully landing in between the octagon, where several hours before, he had won the championship.

The announcer looked at him with shock and disbelief. The whole stadium went silent as the sudden interruption was definitely not expected. 

"Mi-Michael Truce?!" The announcer stuttered, the speakers making his voice echoing through the stadium. All the people leaned in closer in their seats, as if in anticipation but also relief. Michael immediately scanned the crowd and found no Corrupted One in it.

"What is keeping you people here?" asked Michael. 

"It's…them." The announcer pointed down towards the gates that were present around the seats where people were sitting, where there was a tremendous amount of Corrupted Ones attached to them, like bats. So that's the reason Michael could pick up their aura but not their physical presence. They were lying dormant and hiding in the dark. They could wake up any second now and attack the entire stadium. People couldn't leave anyway, as they were blocking the exits. 

"When did these come here?" he asked.

"Around midnight." The announcer replied.

So he was right to suspect it.

"So-"

Suddenly, the Octagon shook violently. Michael heard gasps from the crowd before he could see what just happened. He turned around and saw the silhouette of a large creature idly standing before him at several feet. The creature seemed to be towering over Michael and casting a menacing presence that seemed to fill the entire arena with dread. 

Standing several feet tall, its massive frame was densely muscled and bulging with strength, giving it a formidable and imposing appearance. Its skin, a sickly shade of ashen gray, was adorned with grotesque markings that seemed to writhe and twist in the dim light, as if infused with a dark, otherworldly energy. Jagged spikes protruded from its shoulders and back, adding to its menacing silhouette and giving it an aura of primal ferocity.

Its face was a grotesque mockery of humanity, with twisted features contorted into a snarl of savage fury. Its eyes burned with a malicious gleam, glowing with an eerie intensity that seemed to pierce through the darkness and into the very soul of anyone who dared to meet its gaze. The creature seemed to be armed too. Michael noticed a dagger clasped to the belt of the being. In one massive hand, it wielded a jagged, serrated blade that crackled with dark energy, poised and ready to strike with deadly precision.

Michael signaled the announcer to get out of the ring. The announcer shakingly agreed and ran off from behind him. 

He hadn't sensed this creature before, but its aura was tremendously strong. Was it hiding somewhere? Or did it just spawn here? He had no idea.

Michael observed the creature unamused, "No wings, huh?"

With a primal roar that reverberated through the arena, the creature charged toward Michael, its massive frame looming over him like a dark shadow. Michael remained undaunted, his grip firm on the coiled rope dart at his side. 

As the creature closed the distance between them, Michael sprang into action, his movements fluid and precise. With a flick of his wrist, he launched the rope dart toward the creature, the metal tip whistling through the air with deadly accuracy. The giant Corrupted Ones reacted with surprising agility, dodging the rope dart with a swift sidestep before lunging forward with its blade poised to strike. 

But Michael was ready for its attack, his senses increasingly sharpened by the Solispectra. As the creature's blade descended towards him, Michael swung the rope dart with all his strength, the metal cable snaking through the air as it entangled the creature's arm with a resounding crack. With a swift jerk, Michael yanked the rope dart tight, immobilizing the creature's limb and leaving it vulnerable to his next move. 

With lightning-fast reflexes, Michael closed the distance between them, his movements a blur of speed and precision. With a powerful kick, he sent the creature staggering backward, its roar of pain echoing through the arena as it struggled to free itself from the grip of the rope dart. Seizing the opportunity, Michael launched himself into the air, his body soaring towards the creature with the grace of a hunting hawk. With a swift motion, he drew the dagger from the creature's belt and drove it deep into its chest, piercing its blackened heart with a decisive blow. As the giant Corrupted One collapsed to the ground, defeated and vanquished, Michael stood victorious with not a single drop of sweat.

Michael noticed a star glinting on the shoulder of the creature as if engraved.

"It must be the leader of this batch." He looked around the stadium.

 The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their cries of triumph echoing through the arena. Several hours earlier, they were cheering at him for beating up a human. And now, this…thing.

Michael grunted, as it was no time to be celebrating, and grabbed the microphone from the ground.

"Listen to me, people." He began irritatingly, " I am not entirely sure about this information, but Jolain is after me." He pointed to the corpse at his feet, " It seems like I possess the Solispectra, according to the legend, as you can see in my right eye. I am going to confront Hamlinzok. In the meantime, get prepared for war just in case. You can never be too sure. Tell the World Leaders I will not be present at any meetings or battles here. However, I will try my best to protect my home from afar. But if I fail, you must be capable enough to take care of at least The Corrupted Ones. Remember, do not stock up on guns as they are useless against them. Get blades imbued with energies left by the Dwarfs. I will make sure to open the Portal Of Trading with the Dwarfs again, provided you treat them with respect and dignity. Times are about to get difficult if you do not cooperate. Let that be my, hopefully not, last message."

Michael dropped the microphone. His words hung heavy in the air as the entire stadium was silent. The situation was serious, just like that angel had said. Perhaps he was right. Nevertheless, he had to clear up the stadium of these pests before he went towards Hamlinzok.

"Everyone. Stay put." He announced so that he could clear the exits.

He swung his rope dart and jumped towards the spectators and reached the top of the staircase, where the gates were present. Why couldn't they make it on the ground? That seemed like a question that he'd receive answers to after he was done with everything.

Michael darted and dispatched the sleeping Corrupted Ones at such a speed that it was difficult for the crowd's eyes to track him. It was as if he had transcended human boundaries. 

"He's TRULY AMAZING!" the announcer shouted into the microphone.

Within a mere 40 seconds, he had rid the stadium of more than a thousand Corrupted Ones, although hibernating. 

In the end, he coiled the rope dart around his belt and opened all the exits to make sure he had cleared all of The Corrupted Ones. It seemed like he had.

"Alright. Move it, people."

People left their seats in a frenzy and ran outside in a rush. Michael didn't want to get caught up in it so he immediately began his way toward his penthouse.

He uncoiled his rope dart and decided to swing his way back up since he was already feeling pumped up. He reached his penthouse's skyscraper and jumped up and realized his jump was simply too high to be considered even humanly possible. Effect of the Solispectra, perhaps? Nevertheless, he flicked the rope dart in a wide arc, the metal tip tearing through the building's concrete. He pulled himself upwards and soared directly into his floor's window and crashed through, making the glass shatter noisily around him.

"It is repaired?" Michael asked himself, confused.

Suddenly, the elevator opened with a creak and his neighbor entered the apartment. He immediately spotted Michael's silhouette and was left frozen and dumbfounded.

"Oh." Michael looked around, realizing he was on the wrong floor. " I will pay for this. My apologies." He quietly went beside the man, who had gone as still as a statue, probably due to either the fact that a man had broken into his apartment or that man was Michael Truce. He went into the elevator and put it up to his floor.

The elevator pinged open, and he walked back into his penthouse. The house did look clean. Both Gerim and the angel must have done a good job.

Gerim came in from the corner, " Ah, you're back, master. Did you see the news? War's been declared and it seems the end is near." 

" I gave the news."

"I'm rather forgetful. Please forgive me."

"Where is the angel?" 

"In the kitchen."

Michael walked towards the kitchen, only to see the angel sweeping the floor with a broom.

"Good Job."

The angel turned around. "Thanks?" He smiled, which quickly turned into a frown. " Are you going to come now?" 

" Yes." 

"GREAT!" He dropped the broom and walked towards Michael. " So now-"

"Put the broom back in its proper place," Michael said as he turned back into the hall.

"I-...As you say."

Michael knew he was ready to leave, he had nothing more to take. But he had one last thing.

"Gerim, if I die in battle but you live on, my property and everything will become yours, alright?"

"MASTER!" Gerim screamed in disbelief, " WHAT'S GOTTEN TO YOU? You never talk about this stuff. You'll be fine, I hope."

"All I want you to do is to look after the house.

Gerim nodded slowly. 

The angel came out of the kitchen.

"Ready?"

"Cut the crap."

"As you like."

"Master," Gerim's voice called out as the world suddenly began turning white around Michael, "Don't accept defeat, no matter what."

Michael gave a dry laugh.

"Defeat is a concept invented by the weak."

And the world shifted.