The sound of flames crackling behind him, the sound of his own hurried footsteps, the pouring rain, they were all nothing to his heart beating in his chest. Panic and desperation set in as soon as he saw him, the fear of the lord engraved in his very being, he hadn’t a single clue as to where he was going, what was seemingly a short distance seemed to stretch on forever.

What would have once been a leisurely stroll during times of normalcy was now a path that seemed to yearn for his downfall, floating vines tangled themselves around his limbs almost in a deliberate manner, though he would push on-ward and on-ward, shoving shrubbery and trying his best to ignore the sounds of the screaming wild that seemed to be suffering even more than he was. Still, that would not be the case for long.

All that was left was the sound, sight having long left since exiting the bonfire that used to be the man’s hometown, it was almost a fate to pity… almost.

Hearing the windchimes once more, he hid in a ditch for refuge, he tried to catch his breath, although that was for naught, for spikes jutted themselves from the ground, he screamed as the windchimes got louder and louder, he scrambled to get out of the ditch, the mud slipping under him made it hard to do so to the point where he was barely able to avoid to snare aiming for his leg, instead catching a branch that was split in half perfectly down the middle.

Getting up to his feet, his shoulder was suddenly pierced by a metal rod. Once it had embedded itself into his flesh, it clung on tight and the string attached began to pull, he cried and pulled tightly at it, trying to pry it out… The windchimes grew louder, the man began to breathe louder, panic beginning to set in even more than before, he tore at the skin of his hand from the barbs on its surface just to separate himself from the metal rod and continue to flee.

“Stay away!” The man pleaded. Plea and plea he did. However, that did not stop… him. The man once more tried to hide, though snares continued to reveal themselves from the ground, they were so clean and beautiful that not even the mud could taint their surface.

He screamed as his legs were trapped by a cold, steel wire. It pulled him down to the ground and started to drag him back towards where he came. He tried to cling onto the earlier vines, though it was all in vain, for the vines were rendered from the ground the instant he took hold of them, he wasn’t going to delay the inevitable any further, lacerations were appearing all over his body from all angles as everything became hotter and brighter, a light so bright it felt like it was trying to send a message, like the forceful opening of the eyes of the very night sky itself so it could be a witness to the brimstone.

Thunder roared. Rain and pain pounded his very being. “Make it stop! Make it stop! Please!” Such simple words for a preacher, the least he could do was die with dignity. He even shut his eyes tight… Disgrace.

The sound of the windchimes died down in an instant, as did all other sounds, and for a second, despite the great pain, he felt calm. Without warning, he was dragged upwards, his back torn as he was slammed against a surface of jagged glass, the only sound he could muster was a gasp.

Good, he may not speak regardless.

He mustered the strength to open his eyes, seeing what remained of the still-burning remote village, gardens, and surrounding forest lit aflame in such a way that the flora sounded as if it were praying for it to end… Not yet.

Glaciers blocked off paths to the outside world, lest the suffering populace saw it fit to suffer just a little frostbite to escape the inferno, nothing would change… Nothing ever did.

Buildings were cut cleanly as if they were nothing but wax, parts where roads fell from the sky and rain poured from the floor.

His stomach churned as he felt the ground become the sky and the sky became the ground, he was forcefully pressed against a sharp mound of glass, he shouted in panic and regret as he saw the five masked assailants responsible for this.

One of them at work torching everything in sight with glee, an opportunistic sadist, is what she was. Two watching the man dragged into this hellscape, if only they could pity him. Another turned his back to it all and stared at the sky as if the rain brought memories of a certain someone he yearned to see once more, too busy pitying himself to spare kindness towards the man.

Lastly was the only one whose mask he could clearly see among the inferno, the mask was black, reminiscent of the night sky itself, with dots of all sorts of colors marking several places across his mask, though unlike the night sky, the sight of it brought nothing but dread as was held up by the throat. The man tried to stare into the eyes of the mask, though he saw nothing but an endless void.

The blinding flames made it hard to see who it was but deep down, he knew who it was, he cursed under his breath, his struggles were for naught from the start. Suspicions were confirmed when hearing 

“Let the consequences of your actions be a lesson you preach to nobody and words of yours that have been heard by the ears of man be forgotten under my own...”

Before being able to respond, the man felt the cold steel plunge into his neck, the world went dark just as it was before everything had gone down, now, it was over, the rain was finally allowed to extinguish the flames, the glacial walls shattered themselves, though the obstacles blocking the path were gone, nobody dared to move. Those who remained watched as the black-masked one went to the top of the tallest, still-standing building, tossing the preacher’s body to the ground, his injuries on display for all to see what true ruthlessness was.

Placing his leg up on a ledge of rubble, resting his left arm on his knee, and showing the palm of his right hand down to the people below, they all froze in fright at this gesture, they did not want to risk incurring the wrath they had previously seen before.

“Bow,” he ordered, nobody dared to defy his word, for they had seen what comes of those ignorant enough to not heed the words of someone beyond their reach, beyond their comprehension, even, "Clear your ears, people of the village."

Three of the assailants stood just below the one in the black mask, though one stood side by side with him, as it should be.

“For I know the truth, and for I shall make reality the wishes for a better world, a brighter world. For I am the only one who can make true change that shall stick forevermore. None shall know any name besides that of Orion… Hunter of Light..”