Operation S.A.D. Chapter 8: Whatever Happens In The Future/The Darkening

This was actually really cool

yh thx

:D

Leaving Byrd and Setuh with Rico and Brickina, Shams, Amber, and Dynamo exit the hospital, and begin an important discussion. Together, as they talk, the three travel to a large, crowded city, filled with buildings that are worthy enough to be eye candy. They enter a random, cramped Chinese restaurant for takeaway.

As soon as they take the food out, they sit on an empty table, and start munching on what they ordered for. Shams looked around the bustling crowds as he took delightful bites out of his noodles. He smiled and happily kept eating.

"So... What are we gonna do when that Silhouette comes back again?", asked Amber.

"Who?", questioned Shams, stopping, not knowing who he is.

"Oh right. You haven't met him yet."

"Care to explain who he is?".

The confused demi-god looked at both of his friends, waiting for an answer. Shams was very new to the unofficial alliance, so it was very typical for a newcomer like him to not know. Dynamo knew that question would put him into an awkward situation, and so he reluctantly sighed.

Shams then listened carefully to Dynamo's words...

"Silhouette... Or should I say The Masked Silhouette... Is one of our most peculiar, powerful foes we encountered. I, my siblings, Amber, and some other friends have met him, but our situation became as ugly as I thought it would be. He appeared out of nowhere, like apparition that has escaped its haunted mansion. He incredibly wiped out almost each one of us, except for me. I was the one who beat him in the first battle. However... it isn't enough to kill him..."

"As Dynamo said, he is really, really weird.", agreed Amber, "Lots of things are wrong with him. The way he moves, the way he acts. It's just so... ugh... creepy! Like, I can't even believe he even exists!".

"Wait...", Shams said, "He beat... Setuh?".

"Yes. In one shot.", answered Dynamo.

"WHAT?!".

Shams accidentally dropped his fork as he shouted.

"But how?!".

"That was months ago though. They weren't as strong as you expected.", Amber said.

"This only displays how unhinged our enemy could certainly be.", Dynamo said, "The worst part of the scenario is... that he's back. Crazier than ever before. And I'm suggesting that he's behind all of the murders in certain towns."

"Wait... A guy like him? Murdering tens or twenties of people in ONE-".

The two shushed against Shams, trying to calm him down.

"Not too loud. You're going to spread concern to the crowds around us.", whispered Dynamo.

"Oh... My bad...", apologised Shams, "But you're saying he did all of that? But why?".

"Because of his aim.", Amber said, "His aim to get rid of existence itself."

"You know how bullshit that sounds right?", Shams argued, "It could take millions of years to do that."

"It's unbelievable alright. There's just a lot of things wrong with him."

"Shit... What are we gonna do then?".

"Well...", Dynamo said, "I have grown a feeling that he will strike here in the next two weeks. Byrd and Setuh will be fighting alongside us. However, the five of us wouldn't be able to bring him down."

"Should we get more help?", Amber asked.

"No... I don't want more bloodshed to occur... But I have no other choice... If it all goes wrong and downhill, all you can do is place the blame on me. For now, gather everyone, you know, friend, foe, it doesn't matter. I'll inform on when we should meet. Am I clear?"

The two nodded.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in a field of grass, Silhouette is seen laying down. Remembering the times when he had lots of agonising fun, he felt the world slowing down, and turning away from him. All those people he killed... All those hearts that he broke... He felt regret, but at the same time, relief, anger, and fear. He was feeling everything at that very moment he reminisced.

He remembers many memories of him and his brother. Two sibling drawn away from each other, not by accident, but on purpose. By the time his brother left him to fend for himself, Silhouette has developed moments of being alone, surviving all by himself, hurting those who hurt him. That was until... he met a Disciple of Darkness. A cold soul burrowed in its own shadows, dying from a war that was kept secret from the outside world.

In its dying breath, the entity asked for help, calling to anyone nearby.

Unsure of what was happening, the young Silhouette walked up to the dying disciple. A face as pale as an ancient piece of paper meeting another that was as dark as the deep, dark ocean. The disciple bled a lot while it kept screaming for help. The white man arrived at the scene, saw the thing's state, and carried it over to rest somewhere else. Next, he asked what was going on, but was denied an answer.

The disciple of darkness wore black overalls, but its precious, unsettling body was ruined by an unfortunate hole in its stomach. Its face was... Silhouette didn't remember what most of its face looked like, but he didn't forget about the eyes, which were glimmering brightly as a diamond found straight from the mines.

Those eyes widened. The disciple has seen something vigorously and dangerously flow inside of Silhouette. Whatever it is, it shouldn't be touched. The dying disciple spoke out peculiar words to the young Silhouette, saying:

"You... Show... Great power inside of yourself, young stranger... I don't need you to show me... It's already there..."

After he said that, the disciple lifted its hand up, and said three words:

"Hold my hand..."

Young Silhouette asked why. Again, he was denied an answer. Having a bit of hesitation at first, the white man held onto the entity's hands. As soon as he did, he felt a surge of power gradually coursing throughout his veins and arteries.

It was, indeed, painful for the man, as muscles became like fireworks instantly rocketing into the sky. This took around five minutes for him to get out, as the pain prevented him to let go.

Once those five minutes were up, the man immediately honed his claws, and slashed the dying disciple down until his final breath.

Hyperventilating, the white man stood up, eyeing at the dead disciple, wondering what it had done to him. He looked at his bloody claws. They seemed to be appearing the same as usual. However, a hint of pitch black could be seen on the tip of his fingers. Confused and afraid, the man tried to make it go away, waving the hands in certain directions. But, nothing came to benefit, as the hints remained there, like a permanent stain on a shirt.

To Be Continued...