The Assassins Guild was supposed to be a myth to the masses, their true identity known only to a select few.
They who had mastered the art of killing ensured that their target would disappear and none would be the wiser.
Such was the case for the two thousand years they had been in existence.
Unfortunately, due to the death of the Figure, they had lost what made them unique, what allowed them to stay hidden from the public eye, and in their quest to bring the Figure back, they found themselves out in the open, on an unfamiliar playing field.
It was unfair, or at least, that was what Thanatos thought as he watched his fellows get slaughtered by the creature ahead.
He had thought he had mastered death, but only now did he understand that he was wrong.
His mastery was over killing, someone else held the master over death, and that someone was currently standing ahead, ensuring they understood that fact.
It was terrifying to say the least, watching as someone summoned thousands of undead with ease.
They had tried everything, including utilizing Quillion with frightening skill, yet, faced with hordes of undead, they found themselves lacking as the more they killed, the more came to be.
And leading these undead creatures that ranged from men to cryptids to mutants was a young woman with silver hair and pale skin.
On her left stood a Headless Horseman with a pike, and on her right, what appeared to be the remains of a Cryptid, but not just any cryptid, but a Cryptid Ruler, one that once lorded over the Hyenas.
But the crown jewel, the one thing that stood between her and their blades, was the upper body of a skeletal being.
Its body burned with pale flames that wrought death on all that it touched, and it wielded a shield and a sword, both made out of bones, both covered in flames.
"Fall back!" Thanatos called back as he understood that, try as they may, they were ill-equipped to face the summoner.
The best they could do was ensure that their Guild was not erased from the surface of Eventide.
And so, they fled, detonating Quillion bombs in the building to ensure that the undead did not follow.
By the time the explosions stopped, the Assassins were gone, and the building was in complete ruins.
Arwen seemed disappointed as she remarked. "Clear the rubble. Find survivors."
The undead she summoned arose from beneath the rubble and began to do as she ordered, clearing everything until they discovered a path leading into a space below.
Behind her, the city alarm went off, alerting the authorities of the situation at her location.
"Now that there’s no longer a need to fight, answer me this." Alex began as he knelt before the shadowy figure of the man who once held the name, Azazel.
"Why are you and your fellow assassins kidnapping beggars off the street?"
Azazel’s eyes, pale as the moon above, seemed lost as he looked at his hands.
"Indeed, you did." Alex calmly answered.
Letting out a sigh, Alex replied. "You wanted to live, so I brought you back."
... I accepted my death.
"No, you didn’t," Alex said, causing Azazel to look up at him. "If you truly accepted it, then you wouldn’t be here."
"My Ability only works if the target is not at peace with their death. Which means, even if I didn’t bring you back, you’d have ended up returning as an evil spirit." Alex explained.
Looking back down at his palms, Azazel intoned.
Alex didn’t immediately say anything else, instead waiting in silence as he could tell that Azazel had more to say, and just as he suspected, the dead assassin remarked.
Perhaps you are right. I was not at peace simply because I was on a mission, and if that mission is not complete, I cannot rest.
"What mission?" Alex inquired, his instincts letting him know that Azazel’s ramblings were not pointless.
Looking up at Alex, Azazel replied.
Bringing back my Patron.
The Figure Hidden in the Shadows.
Alex paused, taking the time to digest what he’d just heard.
"The Figure is dead?"
He fell protecting Henos from the wrath of the Goddess Ninmah.
"Wait, what?" Alex furrowed his brows, struggling to make sense of what he’d just heard.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Alex asked. "When did this happen?"
During the failed ascension of the Jester.
Alex couldn’t help but pause as he wondered just how many things were happening during that period that he didn’t know about.
The world truly was vast, and he couldn’t keep tabs on everything.
Of course, he did not think himself capable of knowing all things, but the fact that something like the Figure’s death would end up affecting him in some way was quite vexing.
He took a deep breath and asked. "Is that why you are kidnapping beggars?... For some twisted ritual to revive your dead patron?"
If such were possible, I would have done it. But it is not.
Instead of Azazel, it was Humphrey who spoke.
A dead god cannot be revived. One might say it is one of the Tenets of Order. Inexplicable, but still is.
"I see," Alex muttered, only to pause as he recalled something. "But I have revived a god, the one inhabiting Excalibur."
With the aid of a power that belonged to the Absolute One, the creator of the Tenets. I doubt such material is so easy to come by.
"That... is correct."
Also, according to what I recall from within your shadow, the ’dead’ God wasn’t actually dead, merely close to it.
"Also true," Alex admitted, realizing with a bit of embarrassment that his memory of the event was somewhat flawed.
Then, shaking his head, he sought to return to the main conversation and so turned to Azazel, who was once again staring at his palms.
Dealing with an existential crisis?... Alex couldn’t tell.
Usually, he would be able to know what a Forever Knight would be thinking, and they would know what he was thinking, but for Azazel, it was somewhat different.
Of course, it wasn’t because he was stronger than Humphrey or Charlotte, which he wasn’t.
It was simply because of the unique item currently within him, which helped to conceal his true nature.
Alex had a feeling the item had something to do with the Figure Hidden in the Shadows.
Perhaps, just like with Ulysses and the Traveler, just before the Figure’s death, the deity passed on some of His essence into Azazel.