Raven was leaning against a broken wall, smiling widely. But she wasn't wearing her usual tactical black leather. Instead, she sported casual jeans, a denim jacket over a t-shirt with a grinning skull, and—was that lip gloss?
Her spectral raven perched on her shoulder, watching Emily with what could only be described as amusement.
"Raven," Alex said. "What—?"
"Girl's night off?" Raven pushed off the wall, walking toward them with the casual confidence of a predator. "Thought I'd hang out. Watch you sweat. You know." She winked.
Emily looked between Raven and Alex, her eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"
"Me?" Raven placed a hand on her chest, feigning offense. "I'm Alex's mentor. Teacher. Spiritual guide." She leaned closer to Alex, her voice dropping to a purr. "Among other things."
Alex felt his face warm. "Raven, don't—"
"Oh, so you two are...?" Emily didn't finish the sentence, but the implication hung there.
"No!" Alex said quickly. "She's... it's complicated."
"Mm-hmm. Complicated." Raven circled around Emily, studying her. "Lunar unicorn. B-Rank. Celestial Academy. Let me guess—old crush of Alex's?"
"How do you know—?" Emily started.
"Honey, it's written all over your face." Raven stopped next to Alex, draping an arm around his shoulder in an overly familiar way. "But here's the thing: Alex is a little busy right now. Intense training. Tournament prep. That kind of stuff."
She leaned closer to Alex—close enough that he could smell her perfume (surprisingly floral, not the blood and gunpowder he expected)—and whispered loud enough for Emily to hear:
"Besides, he's already mine."
Emily's face flushed. "But you're older than him."
"And?" Raven smiled. "That just means I can teach him lots of things."
The raven on her shoulder cawed, as if laughing.
Alex pulled away from Raven's grip. "Okay, enough. Both of you. Emily, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. Raven, stop... whatever you're doing."
"Marking my territory," Raven said innocently.
"I'm not territory."
"Mm, sure." She didn't sound convinced.
Emily looked at Alex for a long moment. "Just... be careful, okay? Whatever happens in the tournament. Promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
Emily nodded, turned to leave—
"Oh, and Emily?" Raven called after her. "If you actually care, maybe stop secretly following him like a creepy stalker and just ask if he needs help. It's more effective."
Emily blushed deeper but didn't respond. She and her unicorn disappeared into the night.
Once she was gone, Raven turned to Alex with a completely different expression—the flirtation evaporated, replaced by professional focus.
"Alright. Enough teen romance drama. Time for real work."
"Real work?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Training." Raven pulled out two knives—nothing like her typical combat weapons. These were... rubber training knives. "Viktor sent me to teach you something critical for the tournament."
"What?"
"How to pretend to be dead."
---
[TRAINING: FEIGN DEATH]
For the next two hours, Raven taught Alex something he'd never considered: making Grim appear more injured than he was.
"In a tournament, acting is half the battle," Raven explained, demonstrating with her spectral raven. "Watch—my raven could easily dodge this attack." She threw a knife. The raven moved... but slowly, letting itself get hit by the handle. "But if it pretends the hit hurt more than it actually did..."
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The raven cawed pathetically, falling from the air, crashing to the ground.
"...the opponent becomes overconfident." The raven instantly rose, completely unharmed.
"Make them underestimate, then strike when their guard is down."
Alex practiced with Grim. At first it was strange—making his companion fake stumbles, hesitations, appear more hurt by strikes than he actually was.
But after dozens of attempts, Grim began to understand.
The Intermediate form's meter-and-a-half frame fell dramatically after a training hit that had barely touched him. He staggered, acting as if his leg were injured.
Then, as Raven "moved in for the finishing blow," Grim instantly rose and counterattacked.
"Perfect!" Raven clapped. "That's exactly it. And hey—" She looked at Grim, who had returned to his 80-centimeter form. "You have to admit, he's adorable when he's small. Like a little skeleton murder puppy."
Grim tilted his head, red lights flickering. If he could feel flattered, he probably would be.
"Don't call him adorable," Alex said. "He's an ancient forbidden relic that could destroy cities."
"Still adorable." Raven crouched down, making clicking noises as if calling a cat. "Who's a little soul reaper? You are! Yes you are!"
Grim stared at her, clearly confused about how to respond.
Alex couldn't help it—he laughed. First genuine laugh in weeks.
"There it is," Raven said, standing up. "You needed that. You've been too tense." She stepped closer, put a hand on his shoulder—no flirting this time, just... friendly. "Look, I know the tournament is huge. And I know you're scared your secret will come out. But Alex..."
Her eyes—one brown, one crimson—met his with unusual seriousness.
"You're stronger than you think. Not just your companion. You. You've survived things that would have broken most people. So stop doubting yourself and just... win."
"Just like that?" Alex said dryly.
"Just like that." She smiled. "Now go. Rest. And stop training every damn night or you'll be too exhausted to fight."
She was right. Alex knew it.
"Thanks," he said. "For the training. And for... everything else."
"You're welcome, sweetheart." Raven winked, then vanished into the shadows with her raven.
---
[DAY 18 - ABANDONED RIFT - 11:47 PM]
Despite Raven's advice, Alex couldn't stop completely. But he cut down to just two more night sessions.
Tonight he was clearing a minor rift when he felt the presence again.
But not Emily this time. And not Raven.
Someone new.
Alex turned, activating [Soul Sight].
The figure standing at the edge of the rift had no aura.
Or rather—they had an aura, but it was so suppressed, so wrapped in layers of concealment, that it was basically invisible to normal detection.
The figure wore full black armor. Helmet with visor. Cape. And on their back, a scythe—not like Grim's, but different. More elegant. More... human.
"Impressive," the figure said. Female voice, filtered through the helmet. "Level 23, clearing D-Rank rifts alone. No gear. No backup."
"Who are you?" Alex asked, Grim immediately moving to a defensive position.
"Someone like you." The figure stepped closer. "Someone carrying a burden. Someone who understands what it really means to walk with death."
She drew her scythe—a fluid, practiced motion.
"Let's test it. You and me. Just to see."
"I'm not interested in random fights—"
The figure attacked.
Fast. Too fast for normal level.
Alex barely had time to use [Shadow Step], teleporting three meters to the left.
The scythe cut through the air where he'd been, the blade leaving a trail of dark energy.
"Good," the figure said, approval in her voice. "Fast. But not fast enough."
She attacked again—three rapid strikes, each forcing Alex to retreat.
Grim intervened, Intermediate form activating instantly, clashing his scythe against the stranger's.
CLANG.
Metal against metal. But also something more—power against power.
The two scythes glowed where they touched, energy crackling.
The figure froze. "That scythe... that power..."
She stepped back, lowering her weapon.
"You're not just strong. You're a bearer."
"What?" Alex frowned.
"A Fragment bearer." The figure sheathed her scythe. "I thought you might be, but now I'm sure. Fragment 1, if I'm guessing correctly."
Alex's heart sank. "Who the hell are you?"
"Someone bound to the same fate as you." The figure reached up, removed her helmet.
A woman. Thirties. Short black hair. Ritual scars running down her arms. And eyes—eyes that glowed faintly with the same crimson red as Grim's.
"They call me The Reaper," she said. "And I carry Fragment 2. Like it or not, we're connected now, Bearer."
She held out her hand—not in greeting, but in challenge.
"And when we face each other in the tournament—because we will face each other—I hope you're ready to show your true power. Because I'll accept nothing less."
Alex looked at the hand, then back at her face.
"Why reveal this to me? Why now?"
"Because the other bearers are awakening." Her expression darkened. "Fragment 3 is in Fallen Citadel—I've felt it for months. Fragment 4 is with a death cult. And the other three... I don't know where they are, but they're there. And we'll all be moving soon."
She lowered her hand.
"So prepare yourself, Fragment 1 Bearer. The tournament isn't just competition. It's the beginning of something much bigger."
She put her helmet back on.
"See you in the arena."
She disappeared—not walking away, but dissolving into shadows, as if she'd never been there.
Alex stood there, his mind racing.
Another Fragment bearer. The Reaper. And she'd be in the tournament.
[System - Alert]
[Fragment 2 detected in proximity - Confirmed]
[Bearer identified: Unknown (alias "The Reaper")]
[Warning: Fragments call to each other. Future encounters inevitable.]
---
[DAY 20 - LOWER CITY CEMETERY - 3:17 PM]
The day before the tournament, Alex visited a place he'd been avoiding for two years.
The Lower City Cemetery was exactly as depressing as it sounded. Unmaintained, tilted headstones, overgrown grass. The kind of place people were buried when they couldn't afford the nice cemeteries.
Alex walked through the rows until he found a simple headstone:
MARGARET WALSH
Director, Lower City Orphanage
"She gave hope to the forgotten"
1965 - 2024
Alex knelt before the grave, Grim standing respectfully behind him.
"Hello, Director," he said quietly. "It's been a while."
The wind whispered through the trees. No response, obviously. The dead didn't talk.
Well, not to most people.
"I signed up for a tournament," he continued. "Big one. Nationwide. The kind where everyone watches and judges your every move." He laughed humorlessly. "You'd probably think I'm being stupid. Risking too much."
He paused.
"But you'd also tell me to try anyway. Because you never let me give up. Even when it was obvious I was the least likely to succeed."
He touched the headstone—cold stone under his fingers.
"So this is a promise: I won't waste the chance you gave me. The scholarship you fought to get me. The future you believed I could have." His voice cracked slightly. "No matter what happens in the tournament—win or lose—I won't waste your faith in me."
He sat there for another hour, just thinking. Remembering.
Director Walsh had been tough but fair. She'd never given him special attention—she couldn't, with a hundred kids to manage—but she'd believed in him. She'd seen something.
And then she'd died—heart attack, no warning—six months before Alex's summoning ceremony.
She never knew he'd summoned an F-Rank. Never knew he was expelled.
Maybe that was mercy.
"I'll make you proud," Alex whispered. "I promise."
---
[NIGHT BEFORE THE TOURNAMENT - APARTMENT 4B - 11:43 PM]
Alex couldn't sleep.
Of course he couldn't. Tomorrow was the opening ceremony. The day after, the fights would begin.
He lay on his mattress, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying every possible scenario.
Grim was on the windowsill as always, meter-and-a-half form, watching the night city.
"Do you think I'm ready?" Alex asked.
Grim turned his skull toward him, tilting it.
Always. Ready. Together.
"Yeah, but—"
[System - Alert]
[Unknown presence detected nearby]
[Energy signature: Death/Darkness]
[Intent: Non-hostile - Observation]
[Location: 47 meters, northwest]
Alex sat up, fully awake now.
He moved to the window, looking out.
There—on a rooftop a block away—stood a figure.
Black armor. Cape. And holding a scythe that glowed faintly even at this distance.
The Reaper.
She was... just standing there? Watching him?
As Alex looked at her, she raised one hand. Not in threat. Just... acknowledgment.
I see you. And you see me.
Then she turned and disappeared into the night.
Alex stood by the window for a long moment.
"Tomorrow," he murmured. "Everything changes tomorrow."
Grim moved to his side, red lights glowing in the darkness.
And for the first time in weeks, Alex truly felt the weight of what he'd started.
Not just a tournament.
Not just souls.
But the beginning of something the Gods themselves had tried to prevent.
The reunion of the Seven Reaper Fragments.
And he, Alex Carter—orphan, failure, expelled—was at the center of it all.
