The sound of dripping water echoed out of the darkness. The air was moist and heavy with the scent of mildew and rot. Shadows lay in every direction, making it hard to see more than the vaguest outline of the chamber’s walls. The only light came from a small candle that had been placed on a table in the center of the room. The table itself was of a simple circular design and completely made of white stone.

Heavy footsteps broke the quiet, until a heavily built man in workmen’s clothes stepped up to the table and stopped there. The simple brown pants and shirt he was wearing made him look like a laborer you would find at a dock or warehouse, except the wooden mask concealing his face and his unusually athletic body ruined that impression. He bulged with muscles, as only a dedicated martial artist could. Two small horizontal eye slits and a wide mocking grin were the only features on his mask’s smooth surface.

The man waited patiently for a few moments, his mask leering at nothing. Then, there was a series of wet slopping noises and another figure approached the light. This one was robed and hooded. His grey robe was so torn and dirty that it looked like it was about to come apart as it dragged across the ground, and while he wore no mask, an unnatural darkness lurked under his robe, completely concealing his face and most of his body.  

The two figures sized each other up, but neither spoke. Although muffled wheezing sounds escaped the newcomer’s robes, and where the light hit the exposed greyish skin on his hands, it caused them to shine queerly as if his skin was wet or slimy.

Then, a woman suddenly appeared around the table. Not a whisper or hint of noise had preceded her arrival, but the other two figures didn’t flinch or look shocked. They both merely turned to study her.

“All are here, and I must return soon. Let us commence,” the robed figure hissed in a raspy voice.

The woman nodded in agreement. She was nothing like either of her companions and couldn’t have looked more out of place in the shadowy dank room. No mask hid her face. Instead, her beautiful smiling visage was plainly visible. Long black hair hung down to her shoulders and her skin was pale and white like porcelain.

Her thin and striking body was barely concealed by her clothes, which were little more than thin semi-translucent bands of red silk wrapped around her chest and waist. A golden choker set with a ruby adorned her neck, and other golden jewelry such as bands and piercings decorated her body. Many of them were connected together by thin intricate chains. It was only after a few seconds of study that several oddities stuck out: her skin was so pale it almost glowed in the darkness, her eyes were completely without human warmth, and she was oddly still. She didn’t fidget or sway even a little. It was hard to tell if she was even breathing.

“Have you contacted our new ally, the traitor?” the masked man asked the woman in a voice completely devoid of emotion.

“Yes, they have agreed to go through with their part. I can be quite convincing,” the woman answered in a sweetly amused voice.

“And the engine of destruction that you promised?” the man asked the person in the hood.

“It sleeps still in the depths, but it will rise at my call. Long has it waited for such a day,” came the raspy reply.

“Then this is the end,” the woman exclaimed in excitement. “The sacrifice shall be bled and offered. The shining city will fall, and we will be raised high.”

“As we have agreed,” the masked workman remarked.

“I must admit, I’m surprised that you’re supporting us in this,” the woman replied as she smiled at him. “It’s far less… subtle than your usual fare.”

“Long past is the time of other options. We must be free now or be shackled forever,” the robed figure interjected in a voice that seethed with hatred.

The sound of dripping water filled the room as everyone was silent for a moment. The man in street clothing fidgeted ever so slightly. He seemed to be weighing what to say.

“Do not doubt that my god’s will is served by this endeavor. He has sent a Splinterseed,” he eventually explained emotionlessly.

The grin slipped from the woman’s face for a brief moment, and the wearer of the grey robe shifted his weight nervously. They were both clearly upset by this news.

“Directly? You were contacted directly?” the woman asked in hushed tone that betrayed her sudden nervousness.

“A fragment of a god… Why deliver such a thing here? Why have you told us of this?” the shrouded figure exclaimed as he stared suspiciously across the table.

There was no reply. The masked man didn’t move or even acknowledge the questions. His thoughts and emotions were hidden behind his smiling mask. There was an impatient growl from the cloaked figure, but the man still didn’t reply.

A second later, the masked man turned and disappeared back into the shadows; he knew that he’d outstayed his welcome. An angry hiss followed him, but there was no slapping noise as his feet hit the wet stone floor. He was utterly silent as he ran through the darkness at a surprisingly quick pace. He seemed almost to be gliding along the ground. Shadowy corridors and grimy stone walls flashed by.

After a few moments of running, the man stepped into a patch of light, took a deep powerful breath, and then leapt upwards. His clothes flapped in the wind as he sailed upwards with startling speed, and then he burst out of a circular hole in the ceiling. Suddenly, he was outside, and he began descending towards a dirty cobblestone street. Rows of squat buildings rose up on either side of him and the sky overhead was dark and cloudy. It looked to be late in the afternoon.  

Without missing a step or stumbling at all, the masked man landed on the ground and began walking towards the entrance of the alley. His stride was powerful and purposeful, but he didn’t reach his goal. Once he was within a few feet of the street corner, a pair of dark figures stepped into sight and cut him off. The masked man immediately stopped and studied the newcomers as they stepped apart to block off the exit.

They were both wearing the uniforms of imperial patrollers, but the details were off. Their eyes were pitch black and their skin had a shinny cast, as if it was wet and slimy. A creepy aura surrounded them that seemed to chill the air. It reeked of dark ki, unlike anything used by the empire. There was also no reason for imperial patrollers to be out here in this alley or to be waiting for him. If the Empire knew who and where he was then they would have sent Sect Elders and Seraphim, at the very least.

“Our master wishes to talk to you further,” the fake enforcer on the right said.

“I decline.”

“It was not a request.”

The masked man laughed confidently. “Nothing can order a servant of chaos to go against his own will. Come test your might against mine if you dare, but I think myself far ahead of you on the road to ascendance.”

The dark-eyed pair exchanged a quick glance. Something unseen seemed to travel through the air between them, and then they turned toward him at exactly the same time. It was an unsettlingly coordinated movement. Their faces were expressionless as they both drew long knives and leapt forward.

The masked man took a deep breath. Ki built up within his chest as he widened his stance and raised his hands up into a defensive position. The coiling energy circled throughout his body and strengthened every fiber of it. The lunging forms of his attackers seemed to slow, and the masked man shifted his stance slightly in preparation as he tracked their movements.

Then, the masked man exhaled, stepped forward, and threw a punch at the nearest assailant. At the same time, he ignited his ki. His fist shot forth with incredible speed as the energy within his body combusted and dumped power into his muscles. A slapping noise filled the alley as his fist sank into the first attacker’s stomach. The man gasped from pain and shock as he was lifted clear up off the ground by the power of the blow. And his eyes rolled back into his head.

One enemy was down already, but the second one hadn’t been idle. Before his companion had even started to fall, he shot forward with a sudden burst of speed and slashed at the masked man’s exposed arm with his dagger. The masked man wasn’t caught off guard, and he sped up to match the pace of his opponent. He pulled his arm back and twisted away from the attack. Behind him, the first attacker hit the ground.

Without hesitation or mercy, the second patroller stepped forward and tried to stab the man in the side, but it had been a trap. The masked man’s twist became a full spin. He dropped his center of balance and his back foot came up into a lightning-quick spinning back kick. The unexpected blow came in from the attacker’s blind spot and smashed into his face before he could react. There was a spray of blood and a crunching sound as the man was sent flying into a nearby alley wall. He hit the bricks with a thud and then slid down to the ground.

The masked man quickly dropped his foot and began walking towards the alley entrance. He didn’t bother to spare a look back at his fallen foes. It was time for him to leave, past time. There was no way any of his enemies would have sent only two ambushers. None of them would be foolish enough to think cultivators at such low Realms could do anything but slow him down. That meant there were more on the way.

As the man stepped out of the alley and into a larger street, he looked up and saw a white spire rising up above the rest of the city. The massive tower shone as it reflected the sunlight.  It was the tower of the Archon, the so-called god whose minions ruled this place with an iron fist. Even from miles away, the man could feel the dampening effect the structure had on the natural ki around him. Its stifling chill was an unwelcome reminder of the empire’s seemingly endless power.

“But even the mightiest can be humbled and chaos takes everything in time,” the man muttered to himself before turning away and focusing on the street in front of him.  

Beneath his mask, the man grinned as he felt a flash of excitement. Great and terrible things were now in motion. No one could be trusted and there was no time to waste. Even his fellow co-conspirators were potential enemies. The fate of an entire world hung in the balance, but the risks were outweighed by the rewards. He was a follower of the god of chaos, and his god gave him no guarantees, only opportunities.