Mystic Syn

The woman’s eyes widened. Blood gushed out of her new wound. She tried to speak, but only scarlet blood gurgled out of her lips. She spasmed, falling to the ground, motionless in a few seconds. Her eyes stared at the heavens, the life draining quickly and leaving them empty. Blood pooled around her neck, drenching her scuffed up uniform in scarlet red; it soaked through the wood, dying it red. Ji wasn’t mortified or even enraged; instead, he stood taller and stared at the new body. The ghostly blades dissipated, leaving him alone with this stranger. He looked on the Pacis, distaste curling his lip, before glancing towards the person who killed her. His gaze became cloudy. Ji’s expression remained hard and cold, but something in his eyes said that there was something more to what he was asking about, but he shook it away. “Well, then. That’s that.” Ji turned away and started to walk in a different direction.

Ji paused, but gestured stiffly. “Not at all.” Ji pointed at the hostage, staring Elya down. “But she does,” he insisted. “No, I don’t,” the Pacis called out, rolling her eyes. “Lights above, listen to your friend! I can’t help you if you don’t give me details.” “‘Details’?” he scoffed. “You want details of how she ruined my life? Left me on the streets? Took away everything I loved?” “I don’t want to know about your ex,” the Pacis said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “What? No.” He turned towards her. “I’m talking about the Angel of Death.”

I’ve always spelled it as “Lee,” but idk what it actually supposed to be spelled like.

“This does not concern you,” Ji snapped, not even giving her a glance. The Pacis looked at Elya, giving her a raised eyebrow, then back at Ji. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she repeated slowly. Ji stared at the Pacis for an uncomfortable amount of time, before stepping back a bit, though the blades still held her close. Ji blinked, then glanced over to see a newcomer. He narrowed his eyes, tightened his fist, but only stared at the stranger, somehow still keeping ahold of the Pacis.

Ji leaned back, barely dodging a knife. His scowl deepened as he studied the knife for a split second, before reaching up and twisting the Pacis’ arm, forcing them to release the knife. He screamed in agonizing pain. The Pacis writhed underneath his grip while the others watched. Without a second thought, Ji flicked his hand towards him. A blade zipped and impaled itself into the man’s back, spattering blood on Ji’s face. Blood soaked through the man’s uniform, staining the Pacis’ symbol over his left breast pocket. Ji tightened his hand into a fist, the blade ramming itself further into the man for a few more seconds, before dissipating and dropping the man on the wooden highway with a bloody thump. The rest of the Pacis halted in their actions, staring at the fallen man in horror. Ji looked up, glaring at them as his blades rose with him. He ran his hand, now having spatters of blood over it, though his damp hair. A Pacis’ expression contorted. She brought up her handgun and fired a few rounds. Ji cocked his head as his blades raced, deflecting as many bullets as possible, leaving only a few to find their mark. Of course, they only grazed and nicked him, but he grunted anyway, grinding his teeth together. The blades glowed brighter, zipping and ramming themselves into all the Pacis’, all save for one. The leader backed away, looking between the two and her fallen comrades with her eyes bugging out. She stumbled, beginning to run. Ji stood up, then dashed towards her, the flat of one blade throwing and holding her against the wall. She struggled, but the blades held firm. The Pacis leader swore, then saw all the thin blades raised towards her neck, not even quivering. “Where is she?” he asked, restraining himself from shouting at her while anger laced his tone. “Where is who?” The leader struggled again, but the blades inched closer to puncturing her neck, and she fell still. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” “You know Lighting well who I’m talking about,” Ji spat. More blades appeared, moving closer and closer to her neck. “Where is she?” The officer went silent, staring daggers at him.

Ji grunted, his veins glowing brighter in response. He stuck both hands in his pockets, then looked back at the Pacis, and smirked slightly. A dozen ghostly blades erupted from his back, all of them ranging in different shapes and sizes––some of them one-edged, others larger, a few more intricate––and raised their points towards the Pacis officers, poised to kill. They all looked like they were being held by strings, and all looked menacing. The good few––roughly ten––Pacis slowed upon seeing the two of them. One cursed under their breath, then started to herd the onlookers out of the way and to safety. A few pulled out firearms while a few held out their hands, summoning their Mystic power, mostly fire. They stared at them head-on. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” one of them––supposedly the leader––said, clicking her gun into place. “Oh,” he said with mock sweetness dripping from his tone, “but it does.” Ji rushed them, his blades flying towards the officers with precision, deflecting what bullets that were shot at him. The Pacis shot their fire at him, lobbing the fire at his face. Ji quickly jumped out of the way, the blades taking the brunt of the damage, dissipating for a few seconds before new blades replaced them. He stepped back from a punch that was meant for his face. A scowl formed as he let the blades zip in, hacking and slashing at anyone that got too close. A few Pacis branched off from fighting Ji, then pointed towards Elya, and aimed their firearms at her, pulling their triggers.

Khusa searched their gaze again, visibly thinking, but he quickly turned away and motioned to follow.

“I’m doing fine on my own.” Just as he said that, shouts came from behind him. When Ji turned, a few Pacis officers pointing at him and calling out. They pushed through the flood of people, making their way over to him. Ji cursed softly, looking to run in the opposite direction, then sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Alright,” he said, glancing back with a scowl. “You want me to fight back harder? I can do that.”

He rolled his eyes again. “What I meant by ‘personal rebellion’ was me. There are probably others resisting, but I haven’t heard of them, so obviously they were taken.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Ji muttered, rolling his eyes. “The fact that you’re not turning me in is telling me that; not to mention that you followed me up here in so little time.”

Ji fell silent, studying the woman for a second, then his surroundings for anyone eavesdropping. “I’ve been fighting back for eleven years,” he hissed. “What would happen if I added you to my personal rebellion?”

He gave her a glare. “What are you, the census person? What’s with all the questions?”

Ji considered lying, but it would prove useless if she’d seen him pursued, not to mention his veins glowing. “Why else would the Pacis be chasing me?” he said instead.

“Nothing I’m not used to,” he responded, noting where her hand was, but his veins were still glowing.

Ji jumped back, his veins starting to glow, but no blades appearing. “What do you want?” he snapped, eyeing the newcomer warily.

Ji huffed, bobbing and weaving between people left and right. They cursed at him, but he didn’t care. Jumping over a box and stumbling back into his run, he risked a look over his shoulder. Someone different was following him, someone he didn’t recognize. Turning his head to focus on where he was running, Ji’s thoughts raced, trying to come up with a way to lose them. He ignored everyone around him, whether they yelped or cursed at him, as he continued to run. His heart pounded, his breath shallow. He ducked under people moving a box, then blinked. Pumping his legs harder, Ji ran for a few seconds, then hopped over the railing towards the canal. Before hitting the water, his veins glowed and multiple blades shot from his back and impaled themselves in the wooden highway more than a few floors above where he’d been. Grunting and feeling the sweat roll down his brow, Ji pulled himself up where he’d sent his blades, zipping past the cursing Pacis. Blurs of people past by him, some of them barely giving a glance, others jumping back. His blades quivered, but he reached the new floor in time, rolling on the highway. People backed away, but didn’t say anything. Few of them glanced at him, but continued on their way, not wanting to get involved. He laid on his back for a few seconds, heaving for breath. Should not… have worn… the hoodie. Ji sat up, stripping his hoodie off and tying it around his waist. The cool breeze felt good, welcoming. He grabbed his damp tank-top, fanning himself for a few seconds, before getting up and falling into a light jog to the safe house against his sore leg’s wishes.

Since I’m on winter break and won’t be drawing on the bus anytime soon, I’m just gonna post what random art I do make here :pp

Ji Naito sulked the wooden highways, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He stayed away from the Center––the area where all the rich people lived and constantly mocked him––and always ended up walking around the outskirts near the bottom highways. The salt of the canals to the right stung his nose, but Ji found it comforting. It reminded him of his home, where he belonged. It was the only thing that reminded him of his family, especially the times when he would play in the highways with his–– Ji quickly shooed the thoughts away. He wasn’t going to think about that today, though after eleven years, it still hurt. Though he passed by many people, he kept his gaze fixated on the ground as he wove through people. He might be in the slums, but people did know him and few of them would sell him out to the Pacis for money. Ji couldn’t risk himself, even if he knew some of them personally; he didn’t want to serve the rest of his life from the people that made him the person he was today, all because of the stupid laws they made. A hand grabbed his arm, distracting Ji from his thoughts. He looked up at the person, glaring at them. They were unbothered that he was glaring, maybe even amused? He wore dark clothing, blending in with the shadows behind him, but Ji could tell from the parts that were visible that he was Kajtaniak from his rough skin. The stranger held his arm tightly, not intending to let go. “Don’t touch me,” Ji snarled softly. “I know who you are,” the stranger said, ignoring his comment. “I don’t care what they say, but I hear you’re worth a lot of money with the Pacis, and I intend to collect.” “I said,” Ji said a little louder as his veins began to glow a light blue, almost white, “don’t touch me.” A ghostly blue apparition of a curved, one-edged blade shot from what it appears to be Ji’s back and shot towards the stranger’s neck, as if it was controlled by strings. It didn’t go to impale, but it did draw droplets of blood from the chin and neck. The droplets fell to the stranger’s clothes or the wooden highway, soaking the old wood. It was a spirit copy of an authentic blade, or it certainly looked like it. The blade had some form of writing on them, but Ji couldn’t read them; they started from the bottom of the blade and went up to the middle. The writing glowed, the whole blade following suit. The stranger’s eyes bugged out. He quickly backed away, sweat rolling down his brow. “Uh– I– Y-you ha––” he stuttered. “Mystic!” Ji snapped his head back at the voice. On the other side of the canal, a bystander was pointing at him and the apparition. On the floor above them, a Pacis officer in their white uniforms looked down on him and called out to him, already beginning to run towards him. Ji cursed under his breath, and began to run towards one of his safe houses.

I tried making a comic again :pp

Khusa glared at them, the coldness freezing over every feature. He stared for an uncomfortable amount of time, studying everything about this person, before nodding slightly. “Alright,” he said, sheathing his knife and removing his foot from the stranger. He then offered a hand to help them up. “What I suggest is to keep your head low and if we encounter anyone, let me handle it. But no matter what happens: Keep your face hidden till we get to my office, which shouldn’t be that far of a walk. Am I clear?”