Seconds to the end of a half life [16]

The small trail of smoke trailed from the lit cigarette and faded away into the crisp night air, Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over the city of Rome. His mind swam, with images and with everything that had happened recently, perhaps too fast. Shael was alive, after all of that time that he had assumed the male was dead he came back, and ended up breaking him in more than one way, he was…raw. Even thinking about it brought a dull ache to Michael’s jaw, and then the instinctual cringe that came along with it, he had brought that pain upon himself. Fera did not take well to what had happened either, she took his son and then both of them left, not wanting to stick around to hear what he would end up saying to them or what he would end up doing.

Something had happened, a rift was created between him and his children, or rather between him and his daughter. A soft breeze blew along the side of his face, Michael blinking as a small amount of moisture seemed to rise within his left eye, brushed away as soon as it threatened to spill over. Of course the little Shael did not want to leave his father, but he had never seen Fera so adamant, she got her way it would seem and not without getting a little justice of her own. A phantom pain lanced through his groin upon remembering, so Michael let his mind wonder elsewhere. Another inhalation of the cigarette and the rush if nicotine ran through his body, permeating cells and bringing on that endorphin rush that her so craved. Pulling it away with two fingers, he released the smoke that would fade away into the somber night air, lost like a ghostly whisper.

Lost like so many things thrown away. It felt as if he only had Raziel now, as if anyone that he could truly count upon was this being now, as if everyone else had turned upon him. ”And you brought it all upon yourself you idiot.” Michael muttered with a bitter smirk, chuckling lightly as if sharing within his own joke, taking another drag of the cancer stick, one whose chemicals held nor real danger to him; he was a damn ethereal after all. ”I wonder if you’re still watching me Sheiara.” Flicking the cigarette onto the grass, Michael removed another from a pack hidden within the tan slacks that were clinging to his legs, clean seeming and yet adding to a certain sophisticated air about him.

He was dressed also in a simple white button up with a dark blue vest over that, along with golden striped tie that seemed to tie everything together. A shoed foot would stamp on the lit cigarette, twisting until he was sure that it was out, and then ran fingers through seemingly short cut hair and then went on with his rather depressing night. The cigarette would go unlit for the moment, simply decoration for the male as he stepped down from the grassy hill that stood as a look out for the area. It was a time to try and enjoy his life, or what remained of it. It would all fall down soon, and he was to bear witness, the hands that swing the hammer, that pulled the plunger and lit the fuse. For a night he would enjoy what remained, revel within the falling castle of glass.

”I guess if I should just try some…authentic Italian food, see if its anything good.” He muttered to himself, hands digging deeply into his pockets as he let the cigarette migrate to the corner of his mouth, seemingly forgotten until teeth nearly bit it in two.

Rome is safe haven for a guy like sixteen because it’s quiet but not too quiet and it wasn’t military heavy so if he wanted to actually taking his time – taking over the political power he had that power. His destination was unknown, he just remembered making his way across this grassland that he really didn’t have much of a need to be around.


Transportation was on foot, the speed was walking and his attention was a bit off to be honest; There was no rush of combat or a rush of anything here, everything was smooth … a bit too smooth if you ask him. Sixteen felt something different in the air, more or less the smell of a cancer sticks dancing in the aroma ready to kill everything that is inhaled if not strong enough.


His attire was a simple medieval Ninja costume he bought from the internet, researching on a new development of training he had to take part in so today he was practicing and just taking the feeling in. All black of course and hiding his identity not that the guy would know who he was anyways, but he also carried a Katana strapped on his back, right side handle from his shoulder of course. “Lovely day we are having eh …”

The sound of him approaching was a barely perceptible shift within the air, one that signified something displacing it, yet the sound itself was not enough to really catch onto. The soft crush of grass beneath feet and within an instant there was someone, a human or metahuman it would seem stood before him. Michael turned to them with a whimsical look in his eyes, a single brow arched as he considered this newcomer carefully. The attire was more than anything interesting, much like he had expected of a ninja, except more ancient within design. Was this stranger a ninja, or something more than that? It was the katana that put Michael slightly on edge, as if he were ready to kill someone given the provocation, not that he couldn’t produce a weapon of his own within an instant.

”The nights lovely around here.” Michael noted snapping his finger and drawing a silver lighter from his right pocket, clicking it as the yellow flame rose from the small hole, lighting the cigarette suspended within his mouth. Its end glowed cherry red, before dimming to a pleasant yellow, the small trail of smoke forming once again. ”Thought I would enjoy the view while I have it, can’t let a night like this go to waste.” Inclining his head towards the ninja, Michael would ask a question of his own. ”What brings you out here…erm ninja.”

A very attractive young man, sixteen admired his new strangers mentally with no question. His smell senses didn't really pick up on the smoke due to his mouth material it blocked the smell and gas from entering his nose. He saw it briefly and didn't give a fuck, a lot of people smoke - mother fuckers are not ready for sixteen high. How do you explain yourself in an situation like this? OH he remembers what he was doing and then his speech came through.

"To find a purpose"

”A purpose?” Michael pondered out loud with a bitter chuckle, blowing out the dull grey looking smoke, green flecked silver orbs looking upon the strange male curiously. He sought a purpose, but that was what so many humans looked for, so many wanted to have and yet so few had. Did he even have a purpose, or was it something that was thrown before him by so many, even by Raziel. ”Aren’t we all looking for a purpose?” Michael queried, perhaps slightly interested in how the male would respond, if he would at all, not that Michael really cared one way or the other.

The ninja nodded after the guy spit out the one word those two were currently walking around in a form of speech. Not a lot if people understood just what a true purpose was, just because you have some type of daily priority does not make it important as a purpose, but he wondered if this guy knows this in front of him. No body movements from sixteen was initiated or even thought about for the simple reason he didn't have one. So there he spoke once more in a more curious tone - something worth kicking off a little knowledge to someone ... even if it was a stranger. The time was slowly dancing away from the man who honestly had no use of it before speaking just a bit louder with the same tone of expression.


"Just because you have a priority or responsibility does not mean you have a purpose. I have no kind of future, no friends or allies ... hell my past is gone I don't even know my name or age. "

No future? That was something that was…well impossible, as everyone had a future even if it were bleaker than one would like. ”You don’t know your name or age?” Michael found himself asking with a raised brow, not really caring but finding himself curious of that nonetheless. How could one have no past, unless they did not remember their past, that’s was the only possibility. ”Interesting.” Michael removed the cigarette from his mouth and considered this human for moment.

"I was given a name, no not a name but a number from a special organization that not only wiped me from my memory of who I was but trained me to be a deadly Combatant ... All I know is fighting to survive, that's all know"


now that was the sad ass truth between the ninja and the guy standing in front of him. He wasn't afraid of who he was he just started to learn how to accept it. He noticed a bit of curiosity coming from the sexy gentleman who finally stopped killing himself with that cancer stick ... that is if he is a human.

A killer this one was, and normally that would have out someone on edge, this nameless killer but Michael found possibility. He had taken metahumans as his pawns before, why would he be any different. ”So an assassin of sorts?” he asked curiously, an eyebrow raised as he considered this male carefully. Somehow he found himself talking to an amnesiac assassin in the middle of Rome, not that it was the strangest thing that Michael has come across. ”Fighting to survive? I guess I know a few things about that.” He had done his share of it before.

"Yes. You are correct ... I actually just came from a client before I arrived here to receive my compensation. I am an assassin that was given the name sixteen to be called. But I am but a lost fighter with no reason to live ... living and surviving is two different things .... I'm glad you know how to defend yourself" Sixteen was very calm, he always was in most situation - he wasn't an obvious person. He blinked as he awaited for his next response.

”The strong live and the weak die, its nature really.” Michael said simply, taking another drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a moment before letting the small cloud issue from his mouth peacefully. ”Either you learn how to defend yourself, or you are taken advantage of, its that simple.” He added hand digging into his pockets and looking up to the stars that decorated the sky above them. ”I think I’ll go into the city a little, isolation can be….boring. If you want, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

The nibja gave the man a traditional upper body bow to bow only respect ones such as himself with such wisdom and understanding to the point of any ends possible. "Offer accepted ... please lead the way" spoke the number assassin with a more of a less ominous form of tone. Sadly his curiosity kicked in which was in his opinion out of his control. These words sipped on out.


"You some kind of traveler or something"

The assassin seemed to have no problem with him leading the way, so Michael would do so as they walked along the grasslands outside of the city. ”I guess you could say I a kind of traveler.” It was a true enough answer, considering that he thought of the whole world as his own, in a manner of speaking. ”So what can I call you? I’m sure you have something that you go by, or at least call yourself.” Michael queried with a plain expression the city growing closer as he approached it, mind reeling over the most minute of questions.

"16, Anarchy. I've never been called anything else before my transformation." The six foot tall assassin actually wasn't doing as bad as he thought. As they moved closer to the city in every step. "May I ask did you find anything or one interesting lately". Conversation was lovely as good head.

”Then I hope you don’t mind my calling you Anarchy.” It was a simple enough name, and a better nickname than just 16, had more substance to it. Well, that and Michael just found t he name anarchy to be cooler really, if the term applied. ”Did I find anything interesting?” A strange question, and the latter part of it seemed to catch him off-guard even more, if only because he did not understand it. Who would he have found interesting? ”No, I can’t say that I have.” He noted with a shrug as the city seemed to grow larger the closer they got.