Morray brushed his hand against one of the many stone pillars that dotted and split the dreamy hills of the feather-leaf forests. He leaned down, jabbing a strange probe into the soil. Lining the edges of the warped city—M?ry’Plu—there was now an intricate perimeter of sensors and traps.

  He closed his eyes, letting the warm—almost sweet—air fill his lungs, blessing him with fleeting respite. His eyes snapped open, his attention shifting to the encroaching darkness.

  Death.

  Their eyes followed his every movement.

  Creepy freaks…

  Morray could sense them at the very edge of light and dark. Unseen, inhuman, unknown. His face was stern like a stone wall. No frowning, no fear, no disgust—just a deep, unmoving stare. The wind caressed the feathery canopy; the rustling mixed with the distant echoes of Servinae starting their night.

  Flashing lights erupted behind Morray, his figure illuminated in shadow by the rising form of structures in the sky.

  Vertically built structures with beaming multicolored lights erected themselves against the fading sunlight. Their violet lights dulling the gloom of the crimson wound beyond. The glow of the lights flashed in bursts, their luster revealing hollow stares at the edge of here and there.

  Morray looked into the abyss.

  Dozens upon dozens of marbled empty eyes stared back. Unmoving, inhuman, unknown.

  Loud music began to echo through the newborn night; the eyes began to sink further and further back into the black.

  Morray tapped the comms device on his helmet’s jaw. “I was spotted on the northeastern edge of the Skolas Sky Metropolis.” He paused as someone responded over the device, “Lisk’Ha’s squad is better suited for the terrain.” He paused again. “Correct, let’s regroup near Statio’s Tectonaphis.”

  Click. The call ended.

  Morray sighed, giving a final check on the probes they’d set up. “Hope this holds…”

  Ring…Ring…Ring…

  His personal crystalcomm buzzed to life. He pulled apart a small pouch on his uniform and retrieved the slick crystalline device. Xizu?

  Ca-lick.

  Morray stood in silence, the tall golden grass brushing against his waist. His emotionless gaze broke as he heard the words over the crystalcomm.

  “He did what!?”

  THUD THUD THUD!

  Gira was snapped awake, gravity pulling down on his body as he wobbled upside down. “Wow! Eh?” Gira found himself staring down at the dark floor below him.

  Wha? When did I get up here?

  THUD THUD THUD!

  He recoiled at the burst of sound, “Oh shoot, uh…” he coiled back up, crawling onto the ceiling like some human-sized spider.

  “Who goes there?” He awkwardly asked.

  “It’s Morray!”

  “Oh, give me a sec!”

  Gira crawled across the bars before sliding down next to the door, securing his feet on the metal bars above as he finagled with the panel next to the door.

  “Got it.”

  Whoosh—CRASH!

  “AUCH!!” Gira yelped in pain as the door swung open and smashed into his face. Panicked, he receded back up and through the bars. “Ugh...” He pressed his hands against his bleeding nose.

  Morray and two other rangers rushed into the room.

  “Kid, you okay?” Morray called out, looking around the dark room confused.

  “No…” Gira grumbled from above as some blood dripped through his fingers, falling on one of the ranger's shoulders.

  “What the?” Serfet flinched at the sensation before looking up. “Gira?”

  The group looked up and spotted the shadowy form of Gira covering his bloody nose.

  “You actually sleep up there?” Serfet asked, baffled.

  Gira wiped his face. “Sure do…” he grumbled as he sniffled painfully.

  Morray tapped the lights on, revealing a pale Gira who was scrunched up in a corner of the ceiling like some old spider. “Hey—Sis told me about your fight—we just wanted to check on you.”

  “Shanks…” Gira mumbled as he sniffled.

  “You missing any limbs?” Morray asked as he tried to study Gira through the bars.

  “No… but I’d like some blood please I’m feeling pretty drained…”

  Morray nodded over to the third ranger, who was gripping his sidearm with great distress. Morray glared at him, causing the squeamish ranger to kneel down and rummage through his bag. The ranger pulled out a couple of blood packs from his bag. With a trembling frame, he wobbled over and placed them on the nearby desk before scampering back behind Serfet and Morray.

  Gira hesitated for a moment before sliding down, landing gracefully in front of the desk. Before anyone could speak another word, his mouth suddenly transformed, erupting into crimson jaws. Lunging forward like a starving hound, he tore into the blood bags, causing blood to burst and splatter wildly across the desk. The rangers stared in uneasy silence, exchanging uncomfortable glances as crimson droplets scattered around them.

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  Turning to face the rangers, his crimson jaw crackled before he slammed it shut and let the crimson mass fall off his face, disappearing in a glittery red mist.

  “Thanks for the meal, but man, am I still hungry…” He put a hand on his stomach. “I need something living.” Gira’s stomach gurgled.

  “L-like a p-p-person? Like me?” The squeamish ranger jumped back against the wall defensively.

  “No way? Eww, I wouldn’t eat some sweaty dude.”

  Morray got closer. “I can arrange for you to eat some of our livestock…” He carefully inspected Gira. How’d he manage to beat that bastard? I’ve never seen anyone leave unscathed after fighting that maniac… “Gira—tell me—what happened to you today?”

  “Okie, so we were at the bea—” Gira froze, covering his mouth and oddly nodding. His eyes dulled before flashing blue, his hair growing longer and his build expanding.

  “Morray.” Gira’s voice carried a deeper tone as his gaze met Morray’s. “My name is Berserkrios! And I want to be heard!”

  “Huh?” Serfet looked at Gira confused. “Did his face just change?”

  Morray tilted his head as he studied the new Gira. Another personality? He sacked his lips. “I’ll hear you out in a sec, but tell me what happened first.”

  “We beat up your shitty underling, that’s all. Now we demand a public duel, a Parabellum Onryō!”

  Morray’s face grew stern. “Hold on—do you even know what you’re asking for? Why now?”

  Berserkrios scowled deeply. “Because I’m tired of the shitty ‘training’ your underlings have been putting us through! That man with the ugly hat—Gael—he never actually trained us, you know? Forcing us to climb pointless shit until we fell, laughing under his breath, dumping blood on us and acting like breaking our spine didn’t hurt! As a matter of fact, it wasn’t just Gael. Ranger Cassilex forces us to do her chores while she lounges around. Ranger Tomx who sends us on random maintenance checks on Hollows because he doesn’t want to teach us shit! Ranger Hammel, who’s been training our pain endurance by making us drink foul poisons and burning our skin with his Kyyr. Ranger Ted purposely dehydrates us under the guise of some stupid mental training. Ranger Mai’Bea, who sexually harasses us by touching us in weird places while doing some weird, perverted bondage training. Ranger Noz, who keeps trying to test us by making himself look appetizing by drenching himself in blood and cross-dressing as a maiden.” He raised a brow. “Should I continue?”

  Morray closed his eyes, letting out a miserably defeated sigh. “By the fucking Fifteen those idiots…” He put a hand on his face as he took a deep breath. “Gira, did someone at least try to train you?”

  Berserkrios posed pensively.

  “I guess Ranger’s Haund, Mera, Romm, Noa, and Hitch at least tried… Haund just made us run around all day. Mera tried to teach us about Soul Kyyr but she was so nervous around us she could barely talk. Romm taught us some basic history lessons, but he’d normally pass out the entire session. Aquida dragged us along her daily routine and tried to teach what she was doing, but she did so much we didn’t really get anything. Hitch just played games with us, which was okay, I guess, but you know.”

  Serfet’s gaze was vacant as he thought about the list rangers Gira had given. What was my brother thinking assigning those thugs and idiots to training duty…

  The squeamish ranger had a similar look on his face. Why would you ever assign anyone from Captain Lisk’Ha’s squad to train this thing…

  Morray’s eye twitched as he pulled out his crystalcomm and opened his notebook application. “Could you repeat their names and crimes?”

  Berserkrios nodded before he suddenly shuddered and one of his eyes dulled gray-black. “Wait! Captain Morray, I don’t want them to get punished!”

  Huh? Berserkrios growled internally.

  Gira spoke to his other half within, “We don’t want them to hate us! Remember what you told me!”

  Oh shit, you’re right! Damn—fuck, I was getting carried away.

  Morray looked at Gira confused. “But they didn’t follow my orders,” he said blankly.

  “Yeah, but they’re going to hate us if they get punished because of us!’

  “They’re going to get punished regardless of what you want, kid.”

  Gira's shoulder tensed. “But could you at least wait till after we have our Para-whatever duel? We want to prove ourselves in front of all the rangers here first. So please let us fight someone strong in a fair and square fight.”

  Morray scratched the back of his head. “I get it, kid, but do you even know what a Parabellum Onryō entails?”

  Gira half-heartedly smiled, “I-Isn’t it just a friendly little fight?” his hair bits twitched.

  “It’s a fight to the death.” Morray bluntly answered

  “Ehh!” Gira’s eyes grew wide.

  “The Parabellum Onryō is an old tradition from the age of the ENN.KORR where people rarely gave life any value.”

  “Wha…bu-but why?”

  “The Onryō’s core belief was that there was transcendental honor in the death of the flesh.”

  “But why would anyone go along with that?”

  “Because of the soul.” he dryly answered.

  “Huh? What’s that gotta do with dying?”

  Morray took a deep breath as he stared up at the bars that lined the ceiling. “Our soul does not perish with our body. It simply leaves and ascends to some unknown beyond. Whether it’s a heaven or a hell, no one knows—well—some people act like they do, and the Onryō was unfortunately one of these morons who believed in the concept of Valhalla.” He looked down at the frazzled Gira.

  “But—but even if there was some heaven or hell, why would that make killing okay?”

  “It wasn’t.” Morray bluntly answered, “To the Onryō, it was about fated death and glory. But to the ones that carried the tradition into the ORPA, it was nothing more than a damn good excuse to kill undesirables.” Morray lolled his head to a side. “Listen, kid, I’m no saint; I’ve used and abused the ol’ tradition to put down some of the more fucked-up people we’ve ended up working with. The Parabellum Onryō is nothing more than a tool for execution.”

  Gira pulled back away slightly as he thought.

  Morray continued. “ Kid, if you stake your challenge to others via Parabellum, some will jump at the opportunity to kill you.” Morray smiled shamefully as he looked away. “Sis probably told you about the type of people who I select for the squad. My intent with the Voltasaxx Squad has always been to give monsters a purpose.”

  Gira’s expression grew annoyed as his eyes rested on Morray with “Monsters, huh…” he mumbled.

  Serfet pushed in, “he didn’t mean you!”

  “But I did.” Morray said blankly.

  “Bro!” Serfet hissed.

  Gira let out a sigh. “It’s okay… I know what I am.” He grimly answered. “But—” Gira’s expression grew dark. “they don’t.”

  A quiet dread blossomed in the room, his words feeding it like oil onto flame. The rangers felt the looming weight behind his voice—a vastness in his tone that held them noxiously in place.

  Morray stared down at Gira with a surprising smirk. “I’ll have Serfet organize it for you.”

  Serfet snapped out of the dread, “Excuse me, what?”

  Morray leaned down to match Gira’s eye level. “But I have one condition.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not allowed to kill your opponent.” Morray’s smirk grew wider.

  Gira thought for a second before smiling, “Works with me!”

  Serfet and the other ranger looked at the two with panicked looks.

  “But that’s unfair?” Serfet pleaded, “Who are you even planning to have him fight?”

  “Borren.”

  Serfet’s face paled, “But he’ll kill him! You know he’s got history with Calamity Entities!”

  Morray gave him a knowing look.

  Serfet sighed as he shrank with a shudder. “Xizu’s going to freaking kill us!”

  Morray stretched, letting out a long yawn, “How nostalgic.”