Bob perked up as an ear piercing siren cut through the air, something that couldn't be a good sign. The kids in the classroom beneath him immediately became rowdy, shuffling in their chairs and exchanging charged whispers between each other. A mixture of anxiety, confusion and childish excitement filled the room as they discussed what could be going on, until they were silenced by the shout of the teacher.

The middle aged woman teaching the class silenced them with a single word, then began to instruct them, causing the children to begin to rise from their seats and head towards the door. They were being evacuated because of the alarm, and it was done with the Blessed children moving first.

The weak and the powerless weren't considered until the Blessed were safe and secure, that was the simple fact of their life. While they didn't have issue with it, Bob most certainly did. Not for moral reasons, although those were certainly present. No, It was because it meant his target was already being ushered out of the room and there was nothing he'd be able to do to stealthily scoop him up.

So stealth be damned, it sounded like someone had already got caught and so long as he got to the rendezvous, it wouldn't matter if he did it loud or quiet anymore.

His body shifted and swirled, the mass that he had slowly and carefully spread across the ceiling starting to gather in a singular spot in one rushing mass, like a whirlpool forming in the middle of the ocean. The sound of shifting sands drew attention from the rambuncious children, despite the constant blaring of the alarm.

Countless heads tilted up, some of them looking up in confusion, while others wore expressions of aprehension. That was, until Bob lunged from the ceiling and slammed down onto the floor like a monster lunging from the shadows.

Children screamed in terror, pushing each other out of the way as they moved away from the monster forming itself into the twisted mimicry of a man.

The teacher leapt over her desk, her hands bursting into flames, before a torrent of shifting sands slammed into her chest. With one arm extended, turning into this column of sand, Bob slammed his hand into the teacher and pinned her against the wall. His shifting sands engulfing her flaming hands, snuffing them out, and entombing her in a coffin of sand, yet he made sure to keep her face out so that she could still breathe.

His head shifted, turning his blank face towards young Woe, his Father's younger brother. The young boy stood proud, his hands spread to his side to protect the Blessed that were positioned behind him. While others were cowering in the presence of the monster, he stood strong and confident, ready to fight.

Bob would have been overwhelmed with familial pride for his young Uncle, if he had time for such things. But he had no time to spare on such things, and definitely no time to explain, so he simply grabbed towards young Woe with the intent to explain once he was back with family he could recognise.

However, before Bob's hand could make contact with the young boys body, the outstretched fingers simply dissolved into useless sand that sprinkled down to the ground. Bob tilted his head, looking at his fingerless hand with confusion and distress, but Woe simply let out a smug chuckle and smiled proudly.

The young boy puffed out his chest, thrusting his hand forward like he was a superhero shooting a deadly beam from his palm, while he shouted defiantly,

"DIE MONSTER!"

Bob's body was held together by a shell of mana, that was what allowed him to control his shifting form. He could alter its shape and size, change its density to solidify or soften his body at will, a shell formed of connecting different particulates together, like magnets sticking together. It was a shell that surrounded and protected his core, and was as natural to him as skin was to a human.

Yet as Woe let out his childish scream, a wave of strange energy burst from his body and slammed into Bob like a tidal wave. Everywhere that wave touched, like cascading domino's, his form simply lost all cohesion and the shell completely collapsed.

Every particulate lost its connection to its neighbours, and then those lost their connections and so forth. His shell, his very skin, was torn from the control of his core until nothing remained. All of it happened in the span of a single second.

The children watched as the monsters body completely dissolved and disintegrated, the sandy particulates that made up its body simply, all at once, collapsing to the floor like they had never been alive in the first place. The only sound was the shifting sand, and the soft *Boof* of two solid objects as they hit the sandy ground.

The column that was holding the teacher up dissolved, freeing her from her tomb, and she quickly ushered the children into action again, although she cast wary and almost disturbed looks towards Woe as he stared at the pile of sand with a triumphant look on his face.

As the teacher practically dragged the terrified children from the classroom and ushered them in a somewhat orderly fashion down the corridors, she stumbled across one of the schools guards and immediately sent him towards the classroom. For some reason, he seemed especially peeved and excited when she mentioned a pile of sand, muttering to himself things like "I knew it" and "I'll show him I'm not crazy."

The guard eagerly burst into the classroom, sword drawn and a twisted smile on his face as he could already feel the vindication. Yet as he looked around the room, there was once again nothing but clear floors. Not a single grain of sand in sight.

"Dammit!!"

***

Fox was dragging his companion through the streets. He had been constantly diving through windows and using them to teleport throughout the city. However this last stretch was barren of anything he could jump to, and once more he was cursing the distance limit of his ability.

He was running through the streets, charging through people and shoving them out of the way, when he suddenly stumbled across a street that was perfectly empty and barren of anyone blocking their way. It seemed so perfect, which is exactly why it sent shivers down his spine.

A blur of movement flashed in the corner of his eye, forcing him to dive forwards and drag his companion down along with him. They rolled and tumbled across the ground, until they came to a stop with Fox laying on his back and his cute, young companion laying atop him.

He gave her a soft reassuring smile as she stared down at him with fear in her eyes.

"Are you alright My dear?"

"Y-Yes. I think I'm fi-"

Click

The soft, almost inaudible click of a sword slipping into its sheath was deafening. At the sound the girl's mouth hung open mid word as her expression turned slack. Realisation dawned in her eyes, before it melted into fear and sadness. Tears welled in her eyes, as her head fell to the side.

A spray of crimson spurted down onto Fox's face, staining his snow white hair the colour of the young girl's blood. He stared up in shock as her head schlopped to the side, most of her throat cut open while the remnant patches of untouched flesh kept the head connected to her neck. But the result was almost more twisted than a true decapitation, as her remaining flesh tried its very best to hold onto a head that was already dead.

"Tch, see what you made me do? I was going for a nice clean cut, but you just had to get involved."

A young man in casual clothing and a long black coat was standing to the side, looking down at the with disappointment as he spoke. A sheathed katana rested on his hip and a pair of sunglasses sat at the top of his nose, while his jet black hair looked freshly gelled as it had been slicked back.

Fox looked up at the girls hanging head with empty eyes, before letting out a morose sigh. He gently rolled over, laying the girl on her back. He took the time to fix her head, setting it so that it was in its rightful place and not hanging by a shred of skin, before closing her eyes so they were no longer open in terror.

He slowly rose to his feet, turning to the young man with a chilling, emotionally devoid look in his eyes.

"So you admit that this is your doing?"

The young man raised an eyebrow, before pointing to the girls body with an irritated expression.

"No, that was her fault. If she wasn't a traitorous, heretical bitch I wouldn't have had to do that. As for that mess? That was your fault old man, If you hadn't grabbed her, It would have been a nice clean cut. Not that sloppy display, don't you even think about my reputation?"

Fox stared the young man down with a cold gaze, his Katana manifesting in his hand.

"That's all I needed to hear."

He spoke with an emotionless, neutral tone as he slowly drew the blade from its sheath, the scraping of its blade against the guard singing a song of death.