The Festival of Independence

Every light in the downtown.

No matter if it's the edge of a building or a streetlamp standing over a horde of careless civilians, every light gleams in a bright blue to display that the Kaiyo is sovereign to all. The war had ended years ago after swallowing the souls of thousands for what felt like an eternity. Many weren't sure of how the war had even begun, but rumors have spread that a young soldier grew ruthless toward the Council of the city. Back then, the city was run by a collective intelligence that would override any attempt to make peace with the rebellious Ikari. The war climbed to its climax when an airstrike was sent into the dome where the Council had stayed, finding everyone in the building and draining all life within. It wasn't until much later when a young girl named Azura rose to the throne, one of the Council member's daughters, and halted the war with her pride.

Ryker had more than that when he pushed through the crowd of people and made his way across town. He held more than guns on his belt and a weight heavier than a padded vest over his shoulders. He had the fate of the Ikari, just as Azura had the Kaiyo, and his actions would decide who would still be breathing the next day. His eyes were the only ones to glare as he passed the street. No one knew who he was or where he was going, but no one cared during the celebration. The people were free to dance and smile without an ounce of worry to crawl up their spines, which made it a perfect time for Ryker to engage in this dangerous operation. The spotlight no longer shined on him when the advertisement walls of the city began a timer that had an hour to chip away. The numbers played as a metronome for the music blasting from the ground, the shouts and calls of excitement rising in volume.

Little flares spiraled across rooftops and ashes slid down the window shades of flushed markets and high-class parties. The plaza just beyond Ryker's steps was swarmed with people, and the neon blue from the fountain at the center made him nauseous. He couldn't believe the city was still accepting a superior to control their every action, he wouldn't stand to be controlled. He wanted to be on top, just as everyone else, but with an intention to put an end to anything that stood in his way.

No faction would be able to reach him.

No person would be able to rule over him.

He didn't care whether people would call him a tyrant or a hero.

He just wants the skyscrapers of hierarchy to fall.

A flickering sign barely covered by the steam of an open bar distracts Ryker from his task. While every second costs a life, Ryker catches the attention of a bartender who leans over the counter, calling to the quiet spy standing in the mist.

"Aye, why don't you gotta drink in your hands yet? It's Independence day," the bartender exclaims. Ryker turns and treads toward the bar, the soft rain failing to keep anyone inside their homes. The man behind the bar gives a light smile, his face messy with light smears of dirt and grime.

"Yeah, so leave me alone," Ryker says. The man shakes his head.

"I've got a job to do, my fellow Kaiyo," he responds. Ryker looks to the crowd getting hyped all over the street, then back at the man.

"Yeah?"

"That's right. I've got to make sure everyone is having all of their worries wash away with the rain from above," he grabs a bright orange drink from a glass with the liquid shining between his thick fingers, "And with drinks to help that wave, of course."

"You won't be burying mine," Ryker leans over the bar. The man ignores the rejection and hands Ryker the drink. The music in the background pulses into their thoughts for several moments as they stare at each other in silence.

"Are you a man of culture? Do you know why all these people are here?" the man asks, examining Ryker's outfit.

He sighs. "To remind everyone of the Ikari's defeat after a war lasting a lifetime."

"Ah, close," the man snickers, making another drink with a hope that his customer doesn't walk away. Ryker looks like a black diamond wall with a shine deep within his calm eyes, but finding what hides in his pupils costs the weight of the world to crack his surface.

"Close?" Ryker asks, sipping on the last drink he might ever enjoy. He knows it, too.

"The Ikari," the man glances past Ryker to keep tabs on the whereabouts of anyone walking past his shop, "No one remembers what made their rebellion so powerful."

"Yeah?" Ryker softly smiles at the bartender with his interest growing with each word.

"It wasn't that they fell," the man finishes another drink and sets it aside, "It's what they could do now that they've fallen."

Ryker starts chugging.

This man either knows everything or nothing at all. There is no in between.

Ryker gently places the drink back onto the marble surface with such grace that the bartender freezes his actions with the ice hovering in his glass.

"I don't know what you're talking about, guy," Ryker growls. The man gives a small smile.

"The reason the rebellion was so strong before was because of how stubborn they were. The fact that they would know exactly where you were no matter if you were running to hide from them or standing against their defiance. They would always find a way to hunt you down. They were assassins," the man explains.

"So what?" Ryker tries to hide his identity, but the bartender seems to see straight through him. It almost reminds him of the other friend he had behind the bar before he left the building with glass under his skin.

"Rumors spread easily here. From what I heard, the Ikari are still brewing a new rebellion. Their leader could be traversing these narrow streets as we speak, for all we know," the man nods. Ryker stares, still unsure of what the Kaiyo truly know. His faction has been vulnerable ever since the end of the war. When the Queen led the Kaiyo defense with a new kind of soldier, the Ikari had no choice but to hide from the terror.

It seemed that Azura's will to end the suffering had only grown when she designed the soldiers commanding the afterlife.

"Isn't that interesting," Ryker grunts, looking to the storm in the skies. A dark purple shadow pierces out from the clouds in the distance and inches closer to the plaza. Like a galactic meteor, a winged figure soars to the ground, rolls off the fountain at the center, and lands on their knees to look up at a crowd gazing back.

Their faces are melted in a swirl of darkness through the reflection of the Reaper's helmet. The crowd backs away from the soldier as they rise, scanning the watching civilians. They start walking after their scan disregards each body as the target remains missing. The metal wings click into each other like magnets. Every feather snaps into a small metal triangle sitting on the back of the uniform.

Ryker glances out to find the Reaper scanning their surroundings continuously. The man behind the bar watches them too and then observes Ryker's stare.

"I assume you're not a man who is informed of these uncertain times in such a bright event? A danger to those who dance on these streets," the bartender gazes at Ryker, who turns back with heavy eyes. "Or do you know everything?"

The Reaper finds Ryker as a cavity in the crowd, pulling a handgun from their vest and another from their belt.

Ryker growls. "I am everything."