Judge, Jury, and Executioner [FOT Chain ]

Dusk fell upon the declining nation of Heliohapt. Houses that were left abandoned by both the lower and upper echelons of the former society that once thrived were now ripe for taking thanks to the rise of Tartarus. Bandits were already taking the spoils they felt they deserved, along with a single young female warrior with blonde hair. However, unlike the others scrambling for leftovers already scavenged by like-minded vultures, the woman desired a fresh stock. Most bandits were too weak and simple-minded to see the bigger picture, to seek out the people who stayed behind with their personal belongings that meant more to them than breathing. These people would have kept their treasures locked up and in high supply compared to the droppings of the other gold-hoarding parasites.

The warrior noticed faint light seeping through the cracks of the boarded up windows of a rather magnificent house. Unfortunately, the foliage of the garden and yard, if the family possessed any, had been drained of life thanks to Doxrus and the Dark Hand making the land, air, and water virulent. The woman wondered how this family of this house had been surviving, but it wouldn’t matter in a few moments.

CRASH!!!

The warrior’s sword sliced through the wooden door, splintering it to pieces and scattering it across the entryway. A woman screamed. Stepping through the door, the warrior looked down at a woman hiding their children behind her. They wore silk and golden jewels, materials belonging to the wealthy of Heliohapt. “Please,” the woman whimpered, “we’ll give you whatever. Bandits like you just want money, so tell me your price and just leave.”

The warrior tilted her head. “You think I’m one of them,” she sneered. Stepping forward, the intruder grabbed the woman by her neck and lifted her into the air until her toes barely touched the floor. “Bandits are scumbags, wretched humans that prey on the weak. Don’t lump me in the same class as them.”

“Th-then why…”

“You’re no better,” the warrior snapped. “It’s thanks people like you I’ve fallen to such lengths to realize there is no true justice, no society worth fighting for that is truly virtuous.” Once a warrior from the frozen wastelands, to a loyal dog learning under a king, brainwashed by a dark organization, and now free and born anew, Zaina, a woman broken and put together so many times under so many names, was so sick of the noble charade. “I’ll clean out the trash of this world my own way, clean the impurities.” Zaina squeezed. “One.” Her blade sliced through the undefended children. “Person.” The woman stopped struggling and her body crumpled to the floor. “At a time.”

Zaina stepped over the corpses. “If society refuses to realize their own corruptness, I’ll tear it down myself and make them see for themselves.” Zaina walked down the corridors, raiding the wardrobes and dressers for their valuables and clothes. The wealth this family possessed wasn’t too grand, but enough to last her own survival for quite a while. Next objective would be securing the defenses of the home to make sure no one dared take what was rightfully hers.

WC: 527/500