The Extra Wants Control

The battlefield was a chaotic display of clashing steel and desperate screams. Kael, a whirlwind of deadly precision, weaved through the Gorgon foot soldiers, his movements a blur as he parried clumsy strikes and delivered precise counterattacks. Across from him, tattooed with the number 006, a wiry man fought with a manic ferocity.

006, frustrated by Kael's effortless defense, took a deep breath, his chest and cheeks inflating. With a violent exhale, a cloud of thick, acrid smoke erupted from his lungs, engulfing the immediate area.

From within the haze, 006's voice echoed, distorted and menacing and mocking Kael.

"Kekeke! How's that for arrogance?" His voice, warped by the smoke, seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Kael remained undeterred. He spun, blade flashing, striking out at a location seemingly at random. The clang of steel echoed as the attack met its mark, tearing through 006's arm just below the shoulder. The tattooed fighter yelped in surprise, narrowly dodging a fatal blow.

"What? How?The mist carries a potent poison. Your senses will dull, then…" His voice shocked and eyes widening in horror.

Kael unleashed a surge of power. A wave of crackling energy erupted from him, dispersing the smoke and leaving a faint metallic tang in the air.

Kael inhaled deeply and said. "I don't have time for this nonsense."

006, his face contorted in a mixture of shock and fury, lunged forward, a desperate snarl escaping his throat. The attack ended abruptly. Kael, moving with lightning speed, sliced vertically through the man's body. A single, impossibly thin line of crimson appeared on 006's face before his entire torso split open in a grotesque display of anatomy.

Kael cast a quick glance at the battlefield. Six figures stood out – five radiating the aura of seasoned seven-star fighters only ranging between lower and middle tier level, the last, an imposing figure radiating pure power, an a low tier eight-star, making a beeline for Ray.

Without hesitation, Kael launched himself forward. But before he could reach his master, five figures materialized in his path, blocking his way.

One, a masked and hooded woman with a surprisingly feminine voice, spoke first. "Where do you think you're going?"

Ignoring her question, Kael's gaze placed on the woman tattooed with the number 005. Her jaw clenched in frustration. "Just because you eliminated 006 doesn't mean anything!" she yelled, breaking the tense silence.

Kael, however, had no patience for idle threats. He moved with lightening speed, decapitating the woman in a single, clean stroke.

A collective gasp escaped the remaining Gorgon elite. "He's strong," a gruff male voice, belonging to a man tattooed with 009, rumbled. "We attack together."

There was a chorus of agreement as the remaining Gorgon elite converged on Kael, a united front against the Kael who remained unflinched by the threat.

*******************

"Constantine, set it up."

" Understood." Said Constantine as he emerged from the shadows, and black ominous fibrils started forming around him and he said, " Plagues of the Apocalypse."

A small crimson circle flared open in the sky above the battlefield, bathing the chaotic scene in an ominous red glow. The Gorgon members seemed to be in a state of what is considered status effects, they started vomiting, slowing down in movement, bleeding black blood from their ears, eyes, nose and mouth, some just dropped dead.

This was Constantines path, Apocalypse.

Simultaneously, Mavis reappeared beside Ray, a woman tattooed with the number 002 slung limply over her shoulder, she handed her to Constantine who transported her away. "Master," Mavis reported, "caught her, but she's a high-tier seven-star, not an eight-star like you said."

Ray nodded, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Okay, good work, Mavis. We've done enough for now." He cast a telepathic message towards Kael. "Cut down the useless ones, capture the rest." Another message, this time directed at Mavis, "Handle that eight-star. Try to keep her alive, if possible."

"While the circle does its work, I'll try a different approach." He turned towards the Gorgon castle, where Keller had vanished from the balcony.

Moments later, Ray stood within the castle, facing a woman with fire in her eyes and a cold blade pressed against his throat. "If I kill you," Keller snarled, her voice tight with frustration, "this ends."

Ray remained impassive. "You know that's not true."

Keller let out a frustrated sigh, the tension bleeding out of her posture as she lowered the knife. "Damn it all," she muttered. "I can't even call for help. You blocked everything."

Ray shrugged. "Precautions are necessary, wouldn't you agree?"

Keller studied him, a flicker of something akin to grudging respect flickering in her gaze. "What do you want? You could easily overpower us all, yet you try to minimize casualties. Why?"

"I told you before, Keller," Ray said, his voice calm and steady. "I need your submission, not your annihilation."

Keller straightened, defiance flickering back into her eyes. "I'll never-" she began, but Ray cut her off.

"You don't have a choice, Keller," Ray said, his voice steady.

"I'd rather die," she spat,"Suicide is a far preferable outcome to submission."

Ray didn't flinch. "You wouldn't," he countered, his voice laced with a certainty that grated on Keller's nerves. "Death is easy, Keller. You crave control, power. You wouldn't throw it all away so readily."

"Don't presume to understand me," she hissed, her voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "You waltz in here, kill my people, and then expect me to bend the knee? This isn't some grand hero tale. You're just as bad as the me."

Ray held her gaze, unflinching. "Playing the victim won't serve you here, Keller. You've built an empire on the backs of others. Countless lives ruined to fuel your ambition."

A flicker of pain crossed Keller's face, quickly masked by a sardonic smile. "So, justice warrior now?" she sneered.

"No," Ray said, shaking his head. "Justice doesn't concern me. I need you, Keller. You're resourceful, cunning, and you have a network unlike any other. This isn't collaboration. It's…a collaboration."

Keller scoffed. "Collaboration? With you practically enslaving me while you slaughter my people?"

"Strength is the language understood across all lands, Keller," Ray explained, the sugarcoating evident in his voice. "And yes, slavery is the more accurate term. Don't waste your breath on the rebellious child act."

Ray watched her hand hover over the vial, but his voice remained calm. "This is a chance, Keller," he said. "A chance for revenge."

A humorless chuckle escaped Keller's lips. "Hoohh… So, I truly don't have a choice, then?" she said, her tongue reaching for a small vial tucked within her gums.

Seeing this Ray spoke again. "I'll get you Seraphina Orion, the human Saintess."

Her tongue stopped prying on her gums and Keller's head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "Who are you? You know too much," she calmly said.

Ray shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm the one who can offer you a chance, Keller. Whether you succeed in your revenge is entirely up to you, your dedication, your skills."

"Why me? I'm just a nobody, stuck below the seventh rank," she said, her voice calmer now, a spark of interest flickering in her eyes.

"Because you're impressive, Keller," Ray countered. "A pseudo seven-star who built a vast organization across continents. You possess an exceptional talent, one I can't afford to ignore."

"And yet you want to enslave me?" she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Ray leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Trust, in this game, is a luxury I can't afford. My plans are too delicate, the stakes too high to risk betrayal."

Keller stared at him, a myriad of emotions playing across her face – anger, doubt, and a flicker of something else. "If I become your... servant, how do you guarantee this Seraphina?" she finally asked.

Ray smiled, a slow, predatory smile. "I don't need weak subordinates, Keller. You'll grow stronger, and as my influence expands, so will yours. The Orions will inevitably notice, and that's when your chance will arrive."

"You'll grow stronger, and as we expand our network. Eventually, our paths will cross with the Orions. It's inevitable."

Keller looked up at him, a flicker of something akin to grudging acceptance in her eyes. "And that's when I get my shot?" she asked, her voice low.

"That," Ray said, a hint of a predatory smile playing on his lips, "is entirely up to you."

"I still don't trust you," she rasped, her voice tight with suspicion. "Why can't I accompany you? I could observe your actions, see if your goals truly align with—"

Ray cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Keller," his voice was a low growl, devoid of warmth, "don't forget your position here. I'm the one calling the shots. Your trust is irrelevant. This is your only choice - accept, or die."

Keller's jaw clenched tight, her eyes hardening. The situation was far from ideal, but the alternative was unthinkable. "Fine," she spat, the word laced with venom. "How do we proceed with this... alliance?" A bitter aftertaste lingered on her tongue as she forced the word out. "Do I need to swear a blood oath, some grand display of loyalty?"

"Words are hollow shells, Keller. I deal in contracts." With a snap of his fingers, a dark parchment materialized in the air, pulsating with a crimson aura that sent shivers down Keller's spine.

"What kind of…" she began, but Ray silenced her.

"Sign it," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "With your blood."