At night they move,

Stains were to be expected,

At night they remove,

Proof that you ever existed.

On a rooftop, three blocks away from their actual target, Benjamin was having a smoke in spite of the masks his team had handcrafted for this mission. He sat on the edge of the building, his crutch on his lap, and the rest of the mission equipment by his side. 

All the while his younger partner, Maurice, was the one actually doing work. The hypnotizing blue of his eyes piercing through the monotone night was proof of that.

Ah, the joy of retirement. If Benjamin hadn’t given into his urges to pursue such a dark occupation, maybe he could have enjoyed his life as a discharged fifty-four year old? Who was he kidding? The lack of money and thrill would have never been enough.

Nights in Houston were always a little strange. The cold air was pure bliss but the absence of any heartsource could be daunting. At least some neon signs were still very much active? It prevented the city from being fully monochrome. That’s about as much comfort as night owls would get.

“And now we wait.” commented Benjamin as he lit up another cigarette.

Maurice was perplexed. “Are you sure a smoke is safe, M’sieur?”

“Our goal is to get noticed by the target, ain’t it,” he smirked, “I’m just having fun along the way.” 

Noticing the rookie’s lack of enthusiasm, he tapped his shoulders: “The more experience you gain, the more you’ll realize you need to add every bit of personal comfort you can allow for yourself during a contract.”

Maurice kept quiet but he could see that the cold was getting to Benjamin. He looked less like the local legend of Houston and more like he was about to sell matches to passers-by… but in a buff way.

He was rubbing his forearms and stubbornly prevented himself from showcasing any kind of weakness, apart from the coughing… He couldn’t exactly prevent his damaged lungs and rib cage from cutting his breath short. Were they really going to be all right? Benjamin taught him so much but he seemed so frail here. Could he take on another C-rank Fighter?

No! Doubt was a weakness, especially directed at your mentor! Maurice straightened up when he remembered this family motto. He had no right to complaint. He sought to improve and Benjamin was offering him a chance. He needed to trust his judgment. “If you say so,” he looked away in guilt, “I’ll be sure to… do that?”

“That’s the attitude boy! Ain’t no hill for a stepper.” The speech would have been much more inspiring if it hadn’t been followed by a bunch of coughing. Still, Maurice felt himself blush at the compliment nonetheless. Honestly… kinda pathetic for a thirty-one year old to act like a kid for something so mundane.

To distract himself from the shame, he turned his attention back to the terribly uninteresting task he was assigned to. Call it tracking, stalking, surveilling, spying, looking out all you want… Those fancy terms did little to alleviate the boredom that came from watching the same spot for hours on end. Unfortunately, this was the reality of a F-rank Sniper. They were little more than goggle replacements.

Still, he promised himself he’d do it well! So he’ll do it well!

The look of fierce determination on Maurice’s face almost made Benjamin chuckle from its sheer misplaced intensity. This guy was nothing but bait in their plan yet his attitude was that of a hardened criminal. Indeed, the eyes of a Sniper were like goggles, but they’d glow brighter and more sharply the more they zoomed in on their targets.

“If you wanna live long ‘nough to care about comfort, you should stop painting a target on your back anytime you use your power.”

“I’ll work on it,” he spat, “This will give me something to work on while you knock off your bad habits.”

“Sharp tongue for a first-timer.” Benjamin still did not put his headgear back on, nor did he stop smoking. The first rule that he himself taught to Maurice and he had already broken it.

“Always wear a mask. Switch them around so future targets can’t know which of us they’ll be facing. Never reveal your identity during a mission. Do these rules mean nothing to you?”

His earnestness made Benjamin laugh again. 

“You spent a month drilling them into my head!” 

“But do you think they apply to me?”

“I-”

“No. Not ‘I’. Be factual,” in an instant he was next to Maurice and forcefully turned his head around, “Look at me.”

Beyond his initial surprise over his mentor’s actions, Maurice found himself unable to argue against the untold truth of Benjamin. It was already surprising that such a person could move fast enough to take people by surprise. However, no matter how impressive he could be: “You are the only one like this M’sieur, is that it?”

“No matter that I’m not as big of a deal nowadays,” he flaunted while overdramatizing each and every one of his movements, “There is only one Benjamin Hosmer. From the stature to the physique. From the flaws to the injuries. I can never be incognito.”

“Unless?”

Benjamin did not offer any word of wisdom. Nevertheless, the twitch of his hand paired to the emptiness in his eyes gave Maurice the answer he needed. Try thirty-six years on the job, eh? That sounded more like a threat than a reward.

In a deafening silence that reflected Maurice’s shame and fear back at him, he opted to distract himself once more with the task at hand. How could no one employ him, thought Benjamin, he is the perfect bait. Hard at work and not overly questioning. People really underestimate the value of good fodder nowadays. Perhaps his underlying qualities could make him a formidable warrior down the line, but for this first contract: His role had already been decided.

“M’sieur! She’s… over there.”

Bless his heart. This was going perfectly. Obviously, subjecting him to the view of that woman’s art was a bit harsh for a newbie. However, he needed to build a stomach. Also, this was the only long contract they had going on that didn’t result in too much bloodshed, just light torture. A perfect test, really!  “How is her ‘process’ going?”

“Gross,” hurled Maurice without moving his gaze, “I mean… great. I suppose.”

“Well we don’t have to be sneaky. So, if you need to externalize-”

“I genuinely want to vomit. Thank god the killer itself is a hot buff lady. Otherwise I would have legitimately nothing pleasant to look at-”

“The only thing I’m learning from this is that you have horrible taste in women,” replied Benjamin as he rummaged through their toolbag, “Buff women? Really? She’s a straight-up gorilla.”

“You married a felon.”

“A very elegant felon,” mused Benjamin who managed to make walking with a crutch seem sassy, “Don’t lump my darling with this savage beast.”

“Real mature, M’sieur,” grumbled Maurice before he went back to his work, “Seriously, how do other lookouts even manage to detach themselves while they are forced to watch such atrocities on a daily basis? I used to think the punishment our client wanted her to go through was too much, but I now believe it is too little. We should-”

As oxymoronic as it sounded, Maurice was managing to rant loudly while whispering. Quite the feat! Benjamin wasn’t sure if he should give him a trophy or another serious lecture on stealth for future endeavors. 

Oh, whatever. This would be a problem for later.

If Benjamin focused on what they currently had, everything was perfectly set up. The tools, the terrain, and the will to put that monster down. Tapping on his apprentice’s shoulder, he asked: “Is she next to her window?”

“Y...yes!” Maurice found himself stumbling backward. At first he thought this was from the surprise of being cut off mid-sentence, but he quickly realized Benjamin was actually pulling him by the shirt. “What are you-?

“Increase your magic output.” The coldness that seemed to bother Benjamin’s body moments prior had now carried over to his voice. Maurice shivered and obeyed. Satisfied, his mentor moved the both of them closer to the center of the roof.

“Perfect,” he grinned while staying behind his apprentice, “Now, I can sense that you are doubting the plan.”

“No I-”

“Let’s play a little game.”

“Uh… is it really the right moment, M’sieur?”

“Remember, Maurice. Fun and comfort,” his giant hand knocked on Maurice’s head a few times, “You gotta grab what little fun and comfort you can get during a contract.”

“Okay?”

Without even precising what the game was, Benjamin’s coldness turned into a twisted warmth. He sounded demented. Maurice couldn’t see it for himself, but the breathing of his mentor had gotten erratic for a few seconds before going back to normal. Lord. What had he planned this time?

“C-rank Fighter, Bonnie Estrella Soules, thirty-one years old. 6,1ft for 189 pounds of muscles.”

Maurice found himself caught off guard again.

“No familial connection. No friend or lover, online or in real life. Lied about her awakening to keep her white-collar job. Therefore, she is now an illegal Saint.”

He already knew all of his like the back of his hand! He studied harder than anyone else for his first case!

“Ever since her awakening, she has become a regular at a DIY workshop, and trained even harder. Strange for someone without any criminal record before, no?”

Had he missed something that appeared so evident to the veteran?

“She did not even notice our trailing once. Completely unaware of her surroundings. Seems to kill for herself but stays completely silent.”

“W-why are you telling me all about this?”

“Do you know what is the common denominator of all of the awakened Fighters?”

Maurice found himself at a loss for words. However, he could feel the intense gaze of M’sieur Hosmer on him. After a few more seconds of agonizing tension for the rookie, Benjamin answered his own question:

“A lust for power and control.”

Maurice was speechless. Was M’sieur Hosmer including himself? Maybe he was outside the norm? He was loving towards his crew and his wife. Or… was he like this at one point? What game were they even playing?!

“Awakening does not change who you are nor does it affect your psyche. However, it gives you the power to reveal, and amplify, who you were all along beneath the surface.”

His voice had turned back into ice. Despite the warmth a few minutes prior Benjamin had easily changed… No. Maurice knew who he was working with. His mentor never meant anything. At least, never on a ‘normal’ level. More and more questions plagued his mind. Was M’sieur Hosmer disappointed in his lack of knowledge or just informative? Was he about…?

“I don’t follow.” answered Maurice, short of breath.

“In that case, what’s the second most common trait found among Fighters?”

“Philanthropy…?”

“Funny jest, but no. It’s emptiness.”

Was it? He thought most of the Fighters he had encountered, especially the successful ones, were more hotheaded and abrasive than quiet and reserved. 

Benjamin could see Maurice was still too inexperienced to get what he was implying. Perfect, this would be a fruitful training. He slid his mask back onto his face now that the light in the rookie’s eyes had been consistently reaching the window of that killer for a few minutes. Sure, it was not useful for him, but he wanted to set a good example before finishing his little game:

“And people that tick all those boxes...”

Benjamin was barely halfway through his explanation, yet he was already proven right. The terrifyingly imposing frame of this hulking woman flying out of her own window, smiling wildly in the night, rapidly closing in on them, a vision of absolute nightmare… made him smile as well.

“We have poor impulse control.”

Maurice was frozen. Seeing such a strong figure jump over entire roads, and onto rooftops with complete ease made him realize how big the gap between them and the Saints they were supposed to fight was. Benjamin Hosmer was the man he had the utmost respect for, and even he could not do this because of his injury.

“M’sieur?”

That woman… no… that monster stood on the road opposite to their roof.

“M’sieur?!”

Benjamin kept a firm grasp on Maurice’s shirt, preventing him from moving.

“Please I’m only an F-rank…”

The monster leaped forward.

“M’sieur Hosmer!”

Maurice tried to move out of the way of her attack but he couldn’t. He only saw her demented face closing in on him. He was just the bait after all…

 “Duck!”

The newbie was snapped out of his trance by his mentor’s yell. He felt himself being pushed forward. He wanted to understand what was going on. To turn around and ask his mentor. But there was no time! So he let himself fall face first on the ground and prayed for the best.

Meanwhile, Benjamin was happy. He was happy because everything worked out perfectly. He was happy because Maurice didn’t even have to die. No pointless casualty is good for business.  

Oh, and he caught that woman’s arm mid-attack. She yelped in confusion which Benjamin answered in kind. “Surprised? I’m not. Try being more original next time.”

“You fuc-” her words were cut off by Benjamin slamming her on the concrete behind him. The ground started to shatter. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite enough for what he had in mind. No worries. He just needed a bit more…

“So long… It’s been so long!” cackled the woman who managed to get up without much issue despite the violence of the impact. She looked so demented even her body was breaking down from the euphoria. Her voice was still so sickeningly joyful. “And you can fight? You can fight!”

He can fight… He can fight… Pretty sure Ms Soules is not talking about me, thought Maurice as he painstakingly got up. He was shaking from the mere implications of the fate he narrowly dodged. After this fight, he’ll punch his mentor for sure. No matter the circumstances!

“Indeed we can, missy. Tell me though, how much have you fought in your life?” Benjamin put on a front of confidence but he was a bit taken aback by that monster’s resilience. Is she snapping her bones back in place unconsciously? He had to maneuver around his limping leg so he needed to end this fight quickly if this was true.

“Not enough. Not enough,” she answered, almost foaming from the excitement, “I can finally,” she cut herself off, “Now that I… I can… want…”

“It’s hard to describe isn’t it?” She nodded excitedly.

“People just annoy you, don’t they?” She laughed.

“How many times has it been now?” 

She looked like she could barely register as a human being now. Even the most vile of beasts would run away from her. Her sweat and saliva were mixing themselves to create an aroma of pure dread. Ms. Soules was no more for a few minutes, only Bonnie.

No family.

No friend.

No identity.

Beyond a quenchless thirst for violence.

 “I can’t help it. Crushing them is so…”

“More than thirty, with over a thousand thoughts even before getting your awakening.”

Looking awe-struck, Ms. Soules was now winding up a punch. The more she observed that man, the more she felt a connection with him. Did she know him from somewhere? She had to! How could he read her so well otherwise? She could swear this would be the fight of her life! “That’s right! That’s right! How did you know?”

“Our kind is always so predictable.”