Chapter 7
At noon, Amy (Beta) paid a visit to Damian at their temporary base. Damian took the opportunity to introduce Mark (Alpha) to Amy (Beta). To establish a clear hierarchy, he immediately put Alpha in charge of all affairs regarding their mission.
Damian's first command to Alpha was to find anything about the wannabe Midnight Vigilante. Beta, meanwhile, departed to inspect the progress on their massive, permanent base of operations.
Meanwhile, Detective Leon Maximoff spent hours meticulously going through every single case file involving the Midnight Vigilante. After a long while of intense study, he chuckled softly to himself.
"I found you," he muttered.
Leon was able to pinpoint the exact nature and timing of the next probable incident: an attempted robbery. Based on the vigilante's pattern and location, he accurately identified the specific location and immediately notified the police force.
As expected, the wannabe Midnight Vigilante showed up to stop the robbery. Though the police were already waiting and managed to corner him temporarily, the impersonator proved agile and was ultimately able to slip through their grasp, successfully vanishing into the night.Meanwhile, Damian, who had predicted the vigilante's escape, began tracing the impostor. As he moved, he sensed something strange—something was off. He walked into an abandoned building to observe the area, only to hear a calm voice from behind him.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Shadow."
He swiftly turned to see who was speaking, but to his surprise, it was Detective Leon Maximoff. Damian quickly regained his composure and whispered gently, "I see. So it's you, Detective. You're the wannabe Midnight Vigilante."
"I am not the one you seek, Shadow. I am not the wannabe Midnight Vigilante," Leon replied.
Damian walked toward Leon, pausing briefly. "So tell me, Detective, what's your next move? You know you can't stop me," he said, his face still covered by a scarf.
In an unexpected move, Leon fell to his knees. "I want to serve you. I want you to be my master."
Damian stood in shock. This was not what he had anticipated. Is this a trap? What's going on? Am I being set up? More importantly, how did he find me? How did he know I'd be here? Something doesn't feel right, he thought to himself. He remembered one of his skills: Clairvoyance.
Clairvoyance. I can search the area to make sure it wasn't a trap, he concluded, activating the ability. He searched the entire area for any clue or trap; the only other person he could sense was the runaway Midnight Vigilante, six blocks away.
"So may I ask why?" Damian asked. "Why do you want to serve me?"
"To punish those who intentionally harm others. It's the reason I became a detective," Leon replied almost immediately, his head still bowed. "My twin brother was brutally murdered, and the case was never solved. I swore on his grave to find those who did it and punish people like them."
Guess everything is about revenge these days. Everything is motivated by hate, Damian mused to himself. After a short pause, he finally asked, "So tell me, how did you find me?"
Leon maintained his bowed posture and began his explanation.
"I had tracked the killers of my brother for three years. I had trained myself physically in combat, swordplay, and weaponry. I finally tracked them to the woods; it was time to unleash hell. They had just murdered a couple and went into hiding, and I was close enough to the cave where they hid. But before I could act, I saw an explosion—it was so large and terrifying. When the smoke cleared, all I could see was a figure wearing dark clothes, covering his face with a scarf. Almost immediately, it dashed into the darkness with incredible speed. I knew it wasn't a mere human."
"So I started investigating it. Then I stumbled upon the news articles about a mysterious being called Shadow. I used all the connections I had to find a way to get my hands on this case, and as luck would have it, I was offered this job. Though the offer was low, it was entirely in my favor."
"I spent the last two days putting up evidence, police statements, and bodycam records. I could easily tell someone was mimicking you, so I sent the police after him as a distraction, and I came here to search for you. I knew he'd get away, and I knew you wouldn't let someone else steal your identity. So I hoped you'd track him down... and you did."
"I also tracked him, and simultaneously watched if anyone would follow. The only person following him was you, and you are wearing the same scarf as the night I first saw you." Leon looked up, his voice laced with sincerity. "It was my desire to serve you. Please, let me work for you. I am physically at my peak, and I have connections that would aid you in the future. Please, My lord, let me serve."
While Damian could sense the sincerity in Leon's voice, the offer was unexpected and sudden. He took a long pause, his mind calculating the risks and potential benefits of recruiting a detective.
Finally, he spoke with a cold, calm voice. "I want to test your conviction. This path you intend to follow doesn't guarantee you a happy life, nor a good one. So, answer this: Do you truly want to walk this path with me?"
"Yes, my lord. The decision has been made long ago," Leon replied instantly, his resolve unwavering.
"Well then, prove yourself. Meet me at the edge of town. Show me how strong your conviction is," Damian instructed, preparing to take his leave.
"By how strong my conviction is, you mean I should fight you?" Leon asked, trying to clarify the command.
Damian stopped walking and said softly, "Yes, you'd fight me."
Immediately after uttering the words, he teleported away, vanishing from the abandoned building.
Leon remained on his knees for a moment before standing, gazing at the empty space where Shadow had stood. "It's magnificent. My lord is magnificent," he muttered in adoration."I'd prove myself and I would show you that I am worthy to be by your side my lord"
Damian teleported directly to the location of the wannabe vigilante, materializing in front of him with silent efficiency. The appearance startled the impostor, who had been resting in the shadows; he fell backward, gasping in fear.
"So... you're the one who's been running around playing me," Damian stated, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
The false vigilante didn't fight back; instead, he immediately scrambled forward into a deep bow. "Please forgive me, my lord! This was the only way to get your attention!" he pleaded, his voice shaking with visible tremors.
My attention? What is he up to? Damian wondered. He took a predatory step closer. "And why, exactly, do you need my attention?"
The man responded almost instantly, his head still pressed toward the ground. "I want to be like you. I want to serve your cause."
Damian felt a wave of weary cynicism wash over him. Serve my cause? Please, let this not be another revenge story. Why do broken people keep finding me? Why can't I find one person who does this out of simple morals or belief?
He looked down at the trembling man and asked in a bone-chillingly cold voice, "Tell me: who are you,why do you want to serve me, and what possible benefit would you be to me?"
"My name is Joel Michy. I'm nineteen, and I'm an orphan," the young man began, his voice gaining a bit of steady resolve. "I can't remember my parents; I grew up on the streets, fighting just to earn a living. When I was fourteen, I was adopted by a martial artist who taught me everything. Now, I am an expert in all forms of martial arts and street combat."
He looked up slightly, his eyes reflecting a hard-earned wisdom. "Growing up on those streets, I saw the atrocities committed by thugs and criminals. I saw how they got away with it—how their actions lacked consequences, so they just kept doing it. The cops ignore them, and they end up harming more people. I decided I would get strong enough to punish them, but then I realized something: no matter how strong I get, I can't stop a moving bullet. I can take down a dozen men in a fistfight, but I am powerless against a bomb or a barrage of gunfire. I needed true power—the kind you only find in fiction. At least, I thought it was fiction until the Rashford mansion explosion."
Wait, Damian thought to himself, that would be Beta's brothers. She was the one responsible for that.
"I live a few blocks away, so I witnessed it," Joel continued. "Those purple flames... they were magnificent. They certainly weren't man-made. In that moment, I realized the power I dreamed of actually existed. I needed it to fulfill my purpose: to be the consequence for those who harm others. I didn't know who was responsible, but I wasn't going to give up."
"The next day, the police blamed the Midnight Vigilante. When the Rashford brothers' secrets were exposed, it became clear: Shadow was like me. We had the same goal, but he actually had the power to accomplish it. He was my only hope. I tried everything to find him, but it was impossible—so I decided to make him find me. I figured if I pretended to be him, he would eventually come for me."
I see, Damian mused. This encounter was his plan all along.
"I never thought for a second that you would be this magnificent," Joel concluded, his voice filled with awe. "My lord, please let me serve you."
For the first time, Damian felt a flicker of genuine satisfaction. Though Joel's beginnings were tragic, his motivation was rooted in a personal moral code—the very thing Damian had hoped to find.
"So tell me," Damian asked, his voice still cold but notably intrigued, "what exactly do I gain from you?"
Joel paused for a moment, considering his value. "I can use my combat skills to train any new recruits you may have in the future," he proposed. "And I can assist you personally now. Use me as you see fit, my lord."
Damian was genuinely impressed. He would definitely be useful for training future recruits, he thought, a dark smile playing on his lips. Everything is happening so fast, but this serves my ultimate goal. I will build an army that spans the globe, until the entire world understands that every action has a consequence—and that Karma has finally been born.
He turned to leave, but stopped to issue his final instruction. "Meet me at the edge of town. You shall prove your worth to me there. I expect great things from you."
"My lord, may I ask how?" Joel asked, his head still bowed in respect. "So that I may properly prepare?"
"You shall engage me in combat," Damian replied, his voice echoing slightly as he prepared to depart. "Prove your worth."
With those words, he teleported away, vanishing into thin air.
Joel finally lifted his head, his eyes bright with excitement. "It worked. I finally get to see him... I could feel the sheer power radiating from him. He is truly incredible. It feels as though I have encountered a god."
Damian teleported back to the temporary base where Alpha was stationed. He briefed Alpha on his encounter with the false vigilante and issued a new mission: investigate every detail regarding Detective Leon Maximoff and the young martial artist, Joel Michy. Damian introduced them as potential candidates; if they survived the upcoming trial, they would become the third and fourth members of the inner circle.
Just as the briefing concluded, Beta arrived to report on the significant progress of the permanent base. With all pieces in place, Damian instructed both Alpha and Beta to meet him at the edge of town for the recruitment trial. Without another word, Damian teleported back to his own home, leaving his two lieutenants to prepare.
The following morning, the atmosphere at the outskirts of town was heavy with anticipation.
Leon Maximoff was the first to arrive, standing composed and ready. Soon after, Alpha and Beta appeared together, their presence radiating a cold, overwhelming power that signaled their status as Damian's elite. Finally, Joel Michy arrived, slightly winded but determined. Living the furthest away and having no means of transport, he had traveled the entire distance on foot to ensure he didn't miss his chance.
After a formal introduction, Damian wasted no time. The atmosphere grew heavy as he prepared to begin the evaluation.
"Leon, show me your worth," Damian commanded.
Leon charged instantly. His precision was surgical. While Damian's superhuman reflexes gave him a natural edge, Leon's Battle IQ was impeccable. He wasn't just swinging; he was calculating, predicting Damian's movements and preparing counters before they even happened.
I'm impressed, Damian thought as he parried a strike. His physical skills aren't as perfected as mine, but his quick thinking makes up for it. Is this the result of years of investigative experience? Unlike Alpha, whose raw speed was easy to read, Leon was a strategist. He secured every opening and laid traps within his defense. However, as the duel intensified, Damian activated his Accelerated Thought. His mind began processing the fight at a speed Leon couldn't hope to match, creating offensive patterns that were impossible to predict.
What the hell is going on? Leon thought, his heart racing. He's reading my moves, copying them, and adapting mid-strike. I can't keep up—he's moving faster than I can think!
Damian's strikes became a blur of precision, eventually overwhelming Leon and sending him flying back across the clearing.
"That's enough," Damian said calmly, halting his advance. "You did well. I'm impressed."
Leon quickly lowered his head. "I am not worthy of your praises, my lord." Internally, he was reeling. What monstrosity... he can copy and adapt? My lord is truly magnificent.
Damian walked over and placed a hand on Leon's head. "From now henceforth, the name you shall answer to is GAMMA. I grant you the power to cast judgment, and ten percent of my abilities."
A surge of dark energy flooded Leon's body. His eyes flared a brilliant purple as the enormous power took root. The sensation was overwhelming; he felt as though every cell in his body had been rewritten.
This is real, Gamma thought, falling to his knees as the glow faded and his eyes returned to normal. I've been touched by a god.
"My lord is magnificent!" he declared, his voice shaking with raw emotion. "I vow to serve you, even at the cost of my life!"
Damian turned his cold gaze toward the young martial artist. "Joel," he said. "You're up next."
As the newcomer prepared, Alpha leaned toward Beta, whispering under his breath. "In terms of raw combat skill, Leon is far superior to me. That quick thinking makes him terrifying."
"I believe my raw skill is higher," Beta replied softly, "but his unpredictability is dangerous. If it were a test of pure battle IQ, I would lose as well. Our Lord truly has a keen eye for talent."
Now, it was Joel's turn. He walked toward Damian and bowed deeply. "My lord, let me show you my resolve."
He didn't wait for a signal. Joel charged. His speed and precision were flawless, executed to the last detail. This wasn't just fighting; it was a symphony of violence. He shifted styles effortlessly, weaving traditional martial arts into the brutal, lawless flow of street fighting. To the shock of everyone watching, he actually managed to back Damian into a defensive corner.
"This is beyond perfection," Alpha said, his voice full of awe.
"He is totally unpredictable," Beta added, her eyes fixed on the blur of motion. "I don't even know a counter to those skills. His talent is beyond anything I thought combat could be."
Gamma (Leon) watched with wide eyes, his mind racing. What am I seeing? There is no counter for this madness. It's like a calculated calamity running on instinct, breaking every rule as soon as it's applied. My mind is blank.
Even Damian was reeling. He has a counter for all my counters. What's going on? Am I... losing?
Suddenly, Joel found the opening. He broke through Damian's guard and landed a clean, sharp punch to Damian's face. It was the first time anyone had touched him in four months.
Damian took two steps back, his hand touching his cheek. Then, he laughed—a loud, genuine sound of excitement. "You are exactly what I needed! A true challenge. If I ever lost my abilities, yours is the level of skill I would want to attain."
Then, his voice turned ice-cold. "Now then. Round two."
Damian moved. It wasn't a dash; it was a disappearance. Neither Alpha, Beta, nor Gamma could perceive his movement. In the blink of an eye, he was standing directly behind Joel.
I don't understand... what was that? Joel thought, his face pale with shock.
"I didn't see anything," Gamma muttered loudly.
"Don't tell me you're scared," Damian whispered, his voice as cold as a winter grave.
Joel scrambled to regain his composure, launching a desperate barrage of strikes. But everything missed. Damian's precision had heightened to an impossible level. To Damian, Joel's punches and kicks were moving in slow motion, every detail stretched out over a fraction of a second. There was no longer a need for complex counters—Damian simply stood where the attacks weren't.
With one swift, surgical strike, Damian hit a pressure point, knocking Joel out completely before he could even process the move.
A few minutes later, Joel stirred and opened his eyes. As he struggled to comprehend the sheer speed and power that had ended the fight, his thoughts were interrupted by Damian's calm, steady voice.
"You're awake. Are you okay?" Damian asked, stretching out a hand to help the young man up.
Joel ignored the hand and quickly bounced to his feet, bowing low in a frantic apology. "I'm sorry, my lord! I didn't prepare enough. I am deeply sorry for disappointing you."
"You did not disappoint me, Joel," Damian replied, a hint of genuine warmth in his tone. "If anything, I am impressed. You have reached the pinnacle of human evolution, and you achieved it all by your own strength. You are amazing, Joel. Truly amazing."
Damian walked toward him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"From now on, the name you shall answer to is DELTA. I grant you ten percent of all my abilities."
Almost immediately, a surge of dark energy erupted within Joel. His eyes flared with a brilliant purple light, and he could feel the enormous, crushing magnitude of the energy coursing through his veins. Every sense was heightened; every muscle felt infused with a strength he had previously only dreamed of.
Is this the power of a god? Joel thought, losing himself in the overwhelming scale of his newfound power.
Damian walked a few steps forward, then turned back to face his four disciples. His presence felt heavier, more absolute than ever before.
"From now on, you shall all refer to me as KARMA," he announced, his voice echoing with authority. "For I shall be the consequence of their actions and the price of their deceit. To the outside world, I am known as Shadow. But to you, I am Lord Karma."
A heavy silence followed his declaration until the four figures bowed in perfect unison. Alpha was the first to speak, his voice filled with reverence. "Yes, Lord Karma."
"And you all shall be known as The Knights of Shadow: The Hands of Karma," Damian concluded. "Arise—Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta. You are the shadow that looms over the guilty."
"Yes, my lord!" they answered in a single, thunderous voice.
The group teleported back to their temporary base, where Damian immediately began structuring his new order. He assigned specific duties to each Knight to ensure their mission would be executed with surgical precision.
Alpha Commander Leads and coordinates the group; ensures all missions align with Lord Karma's will.
Beta The Treasurer & Architect Manages the vast financial empire; serves as Lord Karma's personal assistant and base administrator.
Gamma Intelligence Lead Heads the investigation team; gathers information, deciphers clues, and identifies targets.
Delta The Instructor In charge of training all future recruits; teaches the "Way of Shadow" and elite combat techniques.
Gamma and Delta were assigned private apartments within the temporary base. They were given the freedom to move in permanently or use them as secondary residences for mission-readiness. With the initial logistics settled, Damian teleported back to his own apartment.
The weight of the past few days finally began to settle on him. So much had happened—new allies, gifting god-like powers, and the birth of a global shadow organization. He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling as a sudden, grounding thought struck him.
Wait a minute... I never actually introduced myself. Do they even know my real name? Do they know my age? He realized with a faint sense of irony that he was the youngest of them all. He wouldn't even be seventeen for a few months. Alpha, Beta, and Gamma were all twenty-four, and Delta was nineteen. He was a teenager leading a group of seasoned adults.
His mind drifted to the resources now at his disposal. I still can't wrap my head around Beta's wealth. And Gamma... he's the top detective on the continent. He's undoubtedly wealthy in his own right. Lost in these calculations of power and identity, Damian finally drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep.
A few hours later, Damian woke to several missed calls and a text from Gamma. The message was brief but urgent, detailing an incident that seemed "awfully bizarre."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Damian called a group meeting at the temporary base. The Knights of Shadow gathered around a heavy conference table, the atmosphere thick with professional tension.
"Gamma," Damian spoke first, his voice cutting through the silence. "I saw your message. Tell me, what's wrong?"
Gamma stood and pulled three files from his bag, spreading crime scene photographs across the table. They showed three different victims: one male and two females. He cleared his throat, his detective instincts taking over.
"My lord, we have a series of unsolved, bizarre murders," Gamma began. "The first was Lisa, eighteen, a bar waitress. She went missing two weeks ago; her body was found three days later. The second was Tommy, twenty-one, a college student. He vanished last week and was found near a beach. Lastly, Marie went missing three days ago; her body was discovered in an abandoned building this afternoon."
He slid the gruesome images toward Damian.
"All three victims have terrifying commonalities," Gamma added, his voice low. "Their throats were slit, and every drop of blood was drained from their bodies. Furthermore, their hands and legs were tied so tightly that the bindings left deep, bone-level wounds.
Damian stared at the gruesome photographs, his mind moving through the possibilities with cold logic. This is one of two things, he thought. Either we are dealing with a psychopath obsessed with a specific signature, or someone is performing a ritual.
"We need to find out who is doing this and why," he said softly, his voice carrying an edge that silenced the room. "Alpha, it's time to put your data analysis skills to work. Search for any connection between the victims—there must be a pattern that points to who is next."
He turned his gaze toward the others. "Beta, in your free time, search the areas where these bodies were found for any missing clues the police may have overlooked. Gamma, return to the station and pull every new update on the case file as it happens. Delta, you know the streets better than anyone; gather information through your old contacts. We need to end this before they strike again."
Damian tapped the table. "Since these murders are occurring weekly, it's safe to assume the next strike is coming next week. That gives us exactly four days to find them."
The Knights nodded in disciplined approval, but Gamma spoke up, his brow furrowed. "If this is just a psychopath, tracing them will be straightforward. But I fear it may not be that simple."
"What else could it be?" Beta asked, her eyes narrowing.
"I suspect witchcraft... or a sorcerer," Alpha replied, his tone serious.
"You mean... something magical?" Delta asked, shifted slightly in his seat.
"Yes," Alpha responded. "Blood drainage of this magnitude is a common component in summoning rituals."
"Enough talking," Damian interrupted, standing up to signal the end of the meeting. "We need to get to work; time is not on our side. Go. Gather information however you can. We meet here at 6 PM tomorrow. Do not be late, and above all,I expect results."
The briefing concluded, and the Knights of Shadow dispersed into the night, each vanishing toward their respective objectives. The weight of the four-day deadline hung over them as they began their hunt for the ritualistic killer.
The following day, Alpha immersed himself in the digital footprints of the deceased. He bypassed encrypted folders and scrubbed through months of social media activity, searching for a thread that tied a bar waitress, a college student, and a victim found in an abandoned building together. His persistence paid off when he stumbled upon a specific, recurring post shared by two of the three victims just days before their disappearances.
Realizing the significance of the find, he quickly alerted the team.
By 6:00 PM, the temporary base was once again filled with the presence of the Knights. The atmosphere was charged with a new sense of urgency. Alpha stepped forward, placing a fresh set of files onto the conference table. He stood tall as he prepared to explain the connection that would finally give the Shadow a target.