Smoke and darkness provided the perfect mask. From an early age he was taught to not fear the shadows but use them. Pulling back the string of his crossbow Ace delicately placed the final water arrow into position. Narrowing his eyes, he lined up the target, the remaining gaslight that would plunge the entire street into darkness. Ace bit his lip nervously and for a single second he hesitated, index finger hovering over the trigger. So much was resting on this job, one single mistake would result in defeat. On the two sides of a balance sat his reputation and his life, the scales could tip at any moment. Calm down, idiot. His weapon shook within his grasp, Ace cursed under his breath and adjusted his stance. Freedom is something he'd been dreaming about since childhood, he was not about to let his nerves get the better of him. In ten years he had not failed an assignment. By dawn tomorrow he would no longer be bound to the label of a slave. Ace felt the corners of his mouth twist upwards into an arrogant grin. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course though his veins, dissolving all the feelings of anxiety. Weakness was not an option in his profession. Ace took a deep breath tasting the metallic air that stained his taste buds, the bitterness spreading across his mouth like an infection. A cough involuntary escaped from his throat as he breathed in the thick smoke. With a free hand he pulled the cloth around his neck upwards, covering his nose and mouth. He fixed his attention back onto the gaslight. Focusing on the flame, drawing his gaze into the heart of the fire. It was so still almost as though it was waiting for him extinguish its blaze. Ace waited for the right moment, everything needed to be perfect. His finger traced the grove of the trigger. Three. It had taken him months to complete his crossbow, taking care to make sure that every inch of the weapon was designed to fit him alone. He'd crafted it from a chest made of mahogany wood that someone had left out in the street to rot. The crossbow was styled to fit his body weight perfectly, its weight light and simple to carry. Ace hadn't stolen the materials; he'd moulded them into something new. Two. Within the side of the bow Ace had carved the Magpie logo, a trademark of the group he had been sold into. One. At the point when his eyes began to sting, Ace firmly pressed the trigger and watched the arrow fly. It pierced through casing of the gaslight, shards of glass clattering to the ground. Ace winced at the sound, pressing his back firmly against the stone wall. He waited for a moment and listened, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. Yet there was nothing but a gaping void of calmness. Ace was completely alone.
He became nothing but a hazy silhouette moving within the dark. Becoming the blur that you see out the corner of your eye. Ace made no sound, keeping his body low and his steps light. In the distance Ace heard the formidable sound of metal boots, his steps faltered instantly. No, this isn't right. They can't be here. They're not meant to be here. With every pound of their metal boots his heart lurched. Three phantoms where slowly heading in his direction. Ace's eyes grew wide and frantic; he'd studied their patterns for weeks they shouldn't be this far away from town. Half machine, half man. The human side corrupted by the instrument inside. They were nothing but a merciless collection of parts created to destroy. Guards created by the government to maintain order and control, to remove people like Ace. From beneath their hoods all you could see where piercing red eyes. Their bodies creaked and moaned as they moved. Some rumoured that the sounds where the man inside screaming in agony, begging for help. If you're caught you're lucky if they killed you, if not they turned you into one of their own. Ace had only seen the phantoms kill once, he had known the man only by the sound of his screams. He just wasn't quick enough, they caught up to him in seconds. Their arms are made from titanium, the metal moulding to form metallic claws. They took his head within their hands and sunk their nails in deep. Blood dripped from the corner of his eyes. He'd tried to look away but his Master, Alaric had made him watch. Phantoms keep you on the border between life and death, drawing every inch of your soul. The man took almost an hour to die. Ace turned and faced the wall and fixed his hands around the metal piping that ran up the side of it. At this time of night, the pipelines are ice cold while the city sleeps. They supply power to the entire city, it's only lifeline. Without taking a single glance at the guards Ace began to quickly haul his body upwards towards the rooftop. This was not the plan; this was not the plan. Unknown to him, the Phantoms had stopped in their tracks their red eyes firmly transfixed upon him.
