The fiery chains stretched between Noah and the bull. They grew slack as the bull grew thinner before his eyes.
It worked?!
Noah had guessed that managing to successfully restrain the bull would weaken it, but the only chains available were the molten chains of the beast.
His mind was almost numb from enduring the pain the chains inflicted on him. But he did it.
He stopped the bull.
Had had to end this. His sore knees bent as he launched himself forward. The distance between him and the bull shrank in seconds. His two feet struck the back of the ten-foot bull, his hands grabbing its horns.
"Come on!" he bellowed, pulling against the horns with all his strength.
He could feel the strength returning to the bull's body the moment he released the chains. If he didn't break off these horns before it regenerated…
The beast let out a heavy snort, body shifting underneath Noah. He gritted his teeth, and—
SNAP!
The world spun; Noah was falling to the ground. The moment his back hit the ground, he looked into his hands.
Two ivory horns laced with golden lines.
He sat up, studying the chained bull. Its body wasn't growing anymore; instead, it weakly collapsed to the ground, shrinking in size till it was only around seven feet tall.
Its arms were thin and longer than its body. Isaac's handsome face reformed, half covered in fur, and with two broken horn stubs on his forehead.
Noah got up and stepped closer carefully. He stuffed the horns into his hoodie and stared into Isaac's glassy blue eyes.
He was still alive.
The mobster groaned in pain. He wasn't fully transforming back; instead, his body was trapped in this malformed middle ground.
"Who sent you?" Isaac asked, his voice weak and raspy.
Noah considered his words once again. Whether to lie, whether Isaac would even believe a story as fantastical as transmigration.
"I told you before I wasn't sent by anyone," he finally said after a long time. "I don't even know why I'm here."
Maybe it wasn't meant to make sense yet.
But Noah hoped it would make sense one day—that his purpose would grow beyond revenge, that there was some deity out there that validated his vendetta.
"The dead can't forgive," he murmured mostly to himself.
Isaac coughed weakly, his voice fading even as he spoke. "What do you mean?"
Noah exhaled a heavy breath. All the memories of the people he had killed, tortured, and threatened for the mob came back to him in painful clarity.
He never remembered the names. Learning them would only make him feel guiltier.
"That little girl you killed can't forgive you. That man I had to silence can't forgive me. I was just wondering aloud if whatever sent me here can forgive me."
"...Ken," Isaac mumbled with his final breaths; a name Noah did not know. The light faded from his blue eyes, and the last thing he told Noah was, "We're all damned."
Isaac drifted off with Noah frozen there. The crater remained silent, Noah's head of black flames silently flickering. Anything alive in the area had been flattened by their fight.
The forest still continued outside this place. Life would persist.
A cloud shifted above him, and the moon's light fell on him, illuminating Isaac's deformed corpse similarly and Noah's wraith form, blooming with black flames.
Finally, he found his voice.
"I should accept that."
He sank into the earth without warning, and the crater was without his presence for almost three minutes.
Then something shot out of the earth, where he had been standing, flying towards the city at blinding speeds.
The crater grew still once again.
After an hour, the birds returned, and some semblance of noise filled the ruins left behind by the supernatural battle.
Vultures and rats found Isaac's body some hours later. They pecked out his eyes and nibbled on his fingers. It was tough meat, but beggars can't be choosers.
Not long after Noah had left, a man suddenly appeared in the crater.
Like a ghost, silently and without warning.
The man was dressed in a black suit and wore a pair of sunglasses even at night. He gazed over the mess the Phantasms had left and let out an irritated sigh.
His fingers tapped over a phone, and a cheery ringtone filled the clearing, spooking the vultures and rats but not chasing them away.
After they were sure the man wasn't hostile.
The ringtone stopped abruptly, and a voice spoke from it.
"Logistics and support, how may I help you?"
"Yes, this is Keeper Hadrian, Enforcement-6-E4B. I have a dead Phantasm here—Chained Bull. I would like to request logistics come clean up this place."
"Ok, good work, Keeper Hadrian. I will log this in the UCR, but shouldn't some investigation be done first?"
Hadrian slapped his forehead, rolling his eyes; this was obviously a spirit from what he saw. There wouldn't be many traces left behind.
It was likely something to do with the Ironfield Mob or the Salvatore Mafia, seeing that there was a Chained Bull here.
So if he had to guess, it was a Wraith.
His belly turned just from the amount of work there would be in the coming days. But protocol must still be followed.
"Okay. Um… we're in an isolated area. We'll conduct an investigation. I'll request the use of the Dark Tool, Severance."
"Received, sir. May I ask your estimated class for the danger? This is for my log."
There's nothing here, you idiot.
He sighed and smiled.
"Class D."
"Okay, I will forward you to my superior and begin preparing the document for requisition of Severance. Please remember I will send these documents to your email to be signed."
"Thanks, dear," Hadrian said before his smile dropped and he put down the phone.
He would be on hold for a while. Then they would go through standard investigation with Psychopomps and Seers. When would he even get to go home?
"Fucking Phantasms," Hadrian muttered.