Herald of death

Reappearing in his manor's main living room, Ethan turns on his phone. He glances at the updated time, confirming that only two weeks have passed. It vibrates without a notification, and Ethan answers the hidden call.

"Welcome back, Reaper five," Tombstone says. "You are right on time; how did your vacation go?"

Over the course of a long conversation, Ethan explains everything, omitting only Maelor, Sylas, and the Ishai fruit. "And now that I'm back, I'll jump under the shower. Their notion of hygiene is … lacking," he concludes.

"I should have everything. I've got a new assignment for you, but it can wait until tomorrow," she says. "You should turn on the news; a lot has happened in your absence."

"Will do," Ethan signs off before ending the call. He walks over to the large, flat-screen TV mounted above the bar and grabs the remote. The screen flickers, displaying a news channel.

"In other news, the mysterious series of disappearances has continued to baffle authorities. Thousands have gone missing worldwide, and the relevant authorities have yet to find any leads."

Ethan tosses his phone onto the couch and heads towards the bathroom. He strips off his travel-worn armor, stepping into the shower and relishing the feeling of hot water. As the steam of the high-pressure stream envelops him, he closes his eyes. Then, he sees thin, but undeniably present, threads of Ether.

'Am I able to sense them because I became more proficient, or did they appear while I was away?' he ponders. Drawing on them, he uses predator's sight to listen to the news.

"Tensions continue to rise as two new Russian warships go missing in the Black Sea. The U.S. and Europe reported that they are investigating the event, hoping to disarm the situation."

The hot water cascades over Ethan's body, washing away the grime of his journey. He turns up the heat as his body accustoms to it, soon reaching the highest setting.

"The Swedish prime minister announced that his country's prisons are over capacity. The surge of worldwide criminality puts a strain on every judicial system. Urging some governments to consider more drastic solutions."

As the steaming water begins to feel lukewarm, Ethan turns off the shower. He wraps a towel around his waist and heads to the master bedroom, the dampness of his skin cooling rapidly as the water evaporates.

"In brighter news, the food shortages hitting several major cities in Europe are ending as army transports come to the rescue."

Ethan opens the wardrobe to find an array of clothes, ranging from simple shirts to high-end suits. He chooses one of the black suits, along with a white shirt and a red tie. It feels ample around his abdomen, as if it had been cut for someone taller. "I don't remember well, but I think my father was taller than I am," Ethan says to Russ, who watches silently from the door frame.

"And we now welcome Major Matthias Striker, leader of the unit that hunts the ones who use their new abilities to terrorize our population."

As Ethan reenters the living room, he sees the immaculate uniform of Striker, his face marked by more scars than when they last met.

"Good evening," Striker begins, his voice steady and commanding. "To those using their powers to threaten society, I will give only one warning: we will find you."

Ethan unlocks his phone to scan various social media sites as he listens to the TV. 'Looting, violent riots, and crimes of all nature in every part of the world,' Ethan summarizes as he watches clips shared by witnesses. 'Some people seem to have built their own little kingdoms, fighting off authorities when they come knocking. But society seems to otherwise endure.'

"You think you can use your abilities to harm others and get away with it?" Striker leans forward, his face carved by anger. "We will hunt you down. We will bring justice to your door. And if you think you can outsmart us, think again. We are watching. We are ready. And we will crush any resistance with an iron fist."

Ethan turns off the TV as the studio cuts Striker's microphone. He places his phone on the coffee table before him and pulls out the Ishai fruit. He stares at it, its strange surface emitting a blinding light.

'The transformation it promises could be a tremendous advantage, but what if it makes me stand out too much?' Ethan ponders. 'Will I even be myself afterward?'

Russ jumps on the couch, lying beside Ethan, to rub his head against Ethan's leg. He looks at the fruit, his tongue moving across his lips as he wants a bite.

"Yeah, you would eat it without a second thought," Ethan muses. "I already have another soul in me, so what would be the trouble of a few more visions?"

Taking a deep breath, he brings the fruit to his lips, feeling its energy pulse through his fingertips. As he takes a bite, a surge of Ether floods his body, and his sight blurs. The world around him fades, replaced by a vivid vision.

He finds himself in an opulent ballroom, the air filled with the sounds of an unseen orchestra. He holds a woman, the both of them dancing in a perfectly synchronized manner. She turns her head, and Ethan realizes that he's holding Thea Dawnstar, though she appears shorter than she should be.

He blinks, finding himself back in his living room, the Ishai fruit still in his hand. Its sweet taste lingers on his tongue, calling for another bite. Ethan's arm moves outside of his will, and he eats more of the fruit.

The world shifts again; the living room dissolves into a landscape of chaos. Ethan's senses are assaulted by the sounds of clashing metal, the smell of blood and sweat, and the roars of warriors.

He finds himself clad in heavy, battle-worn armor, standing in the middle of a city turned battlefield. The sky is dark, filled with clouds and the sounds of thunder. Before him, a tide of green-skinned orcs tramples forward, their war cries shaking the air.

Behind him stands a man clad in golden ornate armor, his blade reflecting the surrounding fires. His voice cuts through the battle, "We fight not for ourselves, but for our homes, for our families! If my death can give our king another hour, another minute, or even another second to reach us, I will gladly give my life! And so will you, for the fate of mankind rests in our hands!"

A roar of defiance rises from the soldiers, drowning out the orcish war cries. Ethan loses himself in the rhythm of battle, his body moving on instinct, his mind focused solely on the fight.

Suddenly, the vision shifts. The battlefield fades, replaced by his living room. Ethan stumbles, the fruit still in his hand. He takes a deep breath, his heart racing, the echoes of battle still ringing in his ears.

"Melee Weapon (Long sword) leveled up (x5). Adding the Armor (Heavy) skill. Based on your previous experience a level of 10 has been applied," the voice says.

Russ watches him with wide eyes, letting out a few quiet whines. The fruit beckons him to continue his meal; its strange whispers reappear, filling Ethan's mind.

He fights against the urge, his mind wrestling with the fear of losing himself. The whispers grow louder and more insistent, urging him to bite.

Russ nudges Ethan's leg, trying to bring him back to reality. Ethan raises the fruit to his lips once more, feeling its energy surge through him. As he takes another bite, the world around him dissolves into pitch-black darkness and utter silence.