Lucas dashed down the street.

The street was now filled with people going to and fro. It seemed quite lively despite the fact that a terrorist attack had taken place a week prior.

This didn't mean all evidence of the attack was gone from these people however.

Most of them moved at a slow, steady almost dragging pace with a look of loss and depression on their faces. Also, all of them wore black to show they were still in mourning.

Lucas dodged and weaved through the crowd. His mind was in a totally different place compared to his quickly moving body.

I can't believe I wasted so much time. Thankfully, there's enough time to head back to campus. I wonder-

His thoughts cut off abruptly as he passed the mouth of a narrow alley.

Three figures. Rough clothing. Hunched over what looked like a small memorial shrine, the kind families set up for loved ones lost in the recent attack.

Flowers were scattered across the cobblestones and a ceramic bowl meant for offerings lay broken, coins spilling from it.

Lucas's feet stopped moving before his brain caught up.

No. You don't have time for this. The exam...

The first had a long scar running from his cheek to his jaw, pale against his dark skin. His eyes were narrow, his mouth set tight, and his coat hung loose on his thin frame.

The second kept shifting from foot to foot. His head jerked at every sound. His hands twitched at his sides, and his shoulders rose and fell in quick, sharp breaths.

The third had thick, swollen knuckles, the skin over them rough and cracked. His fingers were short and heavy, and his broad forearms showed old bruises and scrapes.

Despite this, he recognized them. These three thugs were indeed the ones that had been "harrasing" Celeste on the night they had first met.

Upon edging closer to the thugs. He was able to hear their conversations.

"...gotta be more here," The leader was saying, his gravelly voice carrying down the alley. "Old lady at the market said the family put up a proper offering."

"Maybe someone already took it," one of the subordinates replied, his hands fidgeting with a small box he'd pulled from behind the memorial stone.

"Then I suggest we find who took it," the other subordinate said cracked his namesakes. "And we take it from them."

"I can't believe we've fallen this far. It's all that damned shadow's fault. After all, if he hadn't robbed and humiliated us, we wouldn't have been in this mess." The leader said.

"Yeah and now without the money, Mr. Marskas said that he'll have us skinned if we don't get it back by the end of the month." One of the cronies said.

"That damned shadow. It's all his fault. If I ever see him again, I'll beat him to death!" The leader said, gritting his teeth.

Mr. Marskas? I knew there was no way these goons had so much money from their own operation. It seems they are working for a big boss! No wonder they're crazy enough to rob a memorial in broad daylight. Even if it was technically in a dark deserted alley.

There's only one thing to do.

[Shadow Sovereign's Mask]

In one quick movement, he ducked into a recessed doorway and brought the mask to his face.

The change happened instantly. The black mask melted onto his skin like it belonged there. Dark energy rippled out as the mask's magic responded to his thoughts.

His academy uniform shimmered and turned dark. It looked like fitted black clothes that swallowed the light. His body appeared different now.

They were wider shoulders and he was a bit taller. Even how he stood changed, it had become more dangerous and threatening.

Lucas, who was now Shadow, stepped back into the alley. His footsteps were silent on the stone path. The mask's magic was strong, but his own speed and grace helped too.

He moved directly behind the three thugs, who were still arguing over the memorial's small offerings.

Lucas cleared his throat.

All three men went rigid. One of the subordinates hands actually spasmed and he dropped the box he'd been holding. It hit the ground with a crack.

"Good morning, gentlemen. And what are you doing on this lovely morning?" Lucas said.

His voice came out smooth and cold. It was layered with an otherworldly quality that the mask provided.

Scar, the leader, turned first. (Seeing as he'd likely see them again, Lucas decided to give them little nicknames).

So anyways, Scar's face went pale beneath his namesake. "You."

"Me," Lucas agreed pleasantly. "Funny how we keep running into each other. It's almost like you didn't take our last conversation to heart."

"We... we figured it out," Knuckles, one of the subordinates, said, but his voice cracked. He was trying to sound tough, but Shadow could see his hands trembling. "You were faking. Using some trick to make yourself seem scary."

"And how did you guys come to this conclusion?" Lucas asked.

"It was obvious." Knuckles continued, obviously feeling at ease that Lucas was listening to him instead of beating the shit out of him.

"Despite, beings more "powerful" than us, not once did you attack us or even fully tried to. We knew that was strange so we decided to follow up with some research and we found out there isn't a powerful person in this city's or country's underground named Shadow."

"Impressive work." Lucas said, "but I'm pretty sure you aren't the ones to come up with it."

Knuckles face went red and he began stammering.

Twitchy, the other subordinate, got up and said. "It doesn't matter anyways. After we beat the brakes of you, we'll bring you to Mr Marskas so that he'll skin you alive."

"I keep hearing about this Mr Marskas but I don't know who he is." Lucas said, scouting for information.

"You don't!?" The thug said, shocked.

"No, so you tell me all about it." Lucas replied.

"Well, Mr Marskas is..." Twitchy began, puffing out his chest.

Unfortunately, the leader slapped Twitchy in the back of the head and said, "Stop going around, telling everyone about Mr. Marskas if you want you skin on your bones. So shut up and let's just jump this dude."

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