A quick shove sent the boy reeling to the ground, and before he could recover, a swift black blade flashed before him before dangerously stopping, tip against his throat. The cold of the blade against his throat was uncomfortable but there was no way up unless he wanted to impale himself on the blade.


The blade moved from his throat so fast it left a thin but painful cut, and before the child could react, the back of the blade came back and slapped him hard across the cheek. He turned over in pain and humiliation, but his mind and spirit was on fire. His sword, his blade, his only defence and only friend was just a few inches away, lying on the floor.

He scrambled for the sword with crazed finesse, but his moves were too obvious. Snake Eyes simply leaped over him and would have landed on the child's fingertips had he not recoiled in time. For a moment, the child missed the cage he was once in, at least there he was not mortally tormented.

But that moment vanished and was replaced by the blinding desire to live.

The child ran towards Snake Eyes with reckless abandon.

"You are more of a fool than I thought." the Master chided the boy. "Pity. You die for this move." And with that, his blade went for a straight jab for the child's chest, using the child's running momentum, in what would be a swift death.

A crazed glaze shined from his young eyes caught the Master's attention. Before he knew it, the kid leaped, stepping on the flat of his black blade and went directly for his face. Driven by his natural instinct, he leaned back to dodge the attack, simultaneously turning his body and swiping his blade backwards to end the fight.

Only to be met with the sound of blade against blade.

The sonorous song of metal sang, as both fighters blades crossed, back facing each other; one higher and poised, one lower and bent.


The S.S. Securus sailed lazily across the vast crimson sky From the outside, it looked like a large whale gliding through the sky that is it's ocean, without a care in the world. The atmosphere of the interior, however, was a far cry from the surface.

8 skilled assassins, or rather 7 assassins and 1 sleeping behemoth, were once again in a tense situation. Perhaps more awkward than tense. Rounin normally handled himself well in this sort of situations. But he was in a colossal state of weariness from the Jakron assignment, which could be a fatal issue in volatile situations.

Situations such as this.

Crosshair had just burst in, proclaiming Jack to be the Ripper, telling everyone to rally together and kill him, breaking every Assassin's Code available along the way. Stupidity.

He cursed the Sniper Assassin under his breath. It was a rash decision to challenge a skilled killer, Ripper or not, in an environment he is most comfortable with. Furthermore, Jack may have allies just around the corner or among them. He already suspected Mr. T to be in allegiance with the Ripper, because of his deep knowledge of nanites. Perhaps he is the one who designed the nanites keeping all of them in check.

Jack entered the room, seemingly unbeknownst of what had just occurred. Caught off guard by the sudden entry, the rest of the assassins just watched. He strolled in, and sat on one of the chairs around the tridecagon table, right in the center of the room, stretched and yawned.

Rounin observed Jack with in interest. This is the Ripper? He was definitely skilled, with a lean, strong body. But he was unassuming. His physical strengths were speed and finesse, but he seemed slower than Rounin himself. This is the arguably best assassin of the era? Absolutely ludicrous. Yet, Rounin felt that Crosshair spoke the truth.

Without warning, Jack spoke. "Gentlemen." It was a clear, precise tone, without any indication of nervousness or maliciousness. "I have to confess something that you all probably already know about. Why don't everyone take a seat? Yes, you too, Crosshair."

The assassins, reluctantly sat down around the thirteen-sided table, eyes all on Jack. Rounin smiled humourlessly. They were like rats following the Pied Piper.


"Are ya realleh him?" Big Bang asked in wide eyed innocence. As innocent as a Demolition Assassin might look.

Jack simply nodded, eyes frowning slightly, as if the question was a waste of time.

Rounin cleared his throat, speaking for the first time. "Ripper..." He began.

"Please, call me Jack. Ripper is a name from times past." Interrupted Jack.

"Jack." Corrected Rounin. "Please, tell us, what are we doing here? What are your motives?"

Jack hesitated, pondering on the question. "You, all of you, are gathered here to help me." He paused, as if waiting for a reply. When none came, he continued. "Each of you have been selected personally by myself, after careful research into your respective careers. You see, I needed a team to help me accomplish something that I could not have alone."

"You are talking in riddles, young one." rasped Deathtrap, weak from his encounter with the Raider Assassin. Leaning onto his staff, he did not seem to be a menacing killer any longer, but a weak old man. "What is it that you wish to accomplish?"

"To change the world." Jack answered simply.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Crosshair burst out laughing, unable to contain himself. "To change the world? HAHAHAHAHAHA! Who would have thought the great Ripper was just a naive man playing hero."

Jack smiled widely, as if enjoying the joke himself. "Naive? Perhaps. But hero? No." Jack looked at each person in the room, acknowledging that Scope, Pickup and Dr. Strange have joined them. "No. A hero is supposed to save. Me? I will kill. I will kill to save this world from itself.

Yes, I will have to kill."

Mr. T shivered, and it was not because of the cold. A loud creaking noise drew the attention of everyone in attendance. All eyes were on Carnage as he got up from his slumber, and lumbered into a seat, forcing Scope to shift uncomfortably at the close proximity with the hulking humanoid.

"Jack." He said in a low, monotonous tone. "I will help."

Dr. Strange started to jump up and down excitedly, unable to control his excitement. "HAHAHahahahaAHAHAHahahah!! What an interesting specimen! What are you?! How is it your anatomy is so drastically different from the others?! HAHAHAhahahahAHAHAH!! Jack!" He shouted, like a child surrounded by toys. "Let me cut him up! I want to see what makes him tick! What a delightfu..."

He was interrupted by sudden rapid gun shots; 3 rounds grazed his skin. Blood trickled down the scratches as he gazed into Jack's enraged eyes. Fear forced his legs to jelly, as he collapsed to the ground in a heap.

"That is my friend you are talking about, Strange. And you would do well to remember that," he said as he kept the handgun. Crosshair lifted an eyebrow, noticing the gun was completely different from the SHLEP. Did the Ripper have 2 different types of handguns?

Jack turned to the rest of them and smiled, as if the incident never occurred. "Carnage was a reliable assassin before they captured him. We were friends, as close as friends can be in our world." Jack said, as a form of explanation.

"The competition to form the perfect assassin is already underway. Neuera with their Cyborg Assassins formed from corpses, Nightingale with their Gemini Assassins and now..." He turned and looked at Carnage with sad eyes. "...Experimentations."

"Ah, I think I see your point, Jack." Rounin said, his gaze softening.

Crosshair stood up, impertinent as usual. "Bullshit, man. You are full of shit, Ripper." As he said the last word, he stared at Jack, daring him to make a move. "How do I know you aren't playing with us? How do I know this is not just some mind game, huh?"

"Well, you need to have a mind first, before I can play mind games with you" said Jack, in a mild chiding tone.

Crosshair was furious, but managed to restrain himself, though his trigger finger was still twitching. Jack continued, ignoring him. "I understand if any of you do not trust me. I wont trust me either, if I was in your situation. However, consider my proposal to each of you first. Trust can come later."

"Besides, I'm paying you."


The Nevada Dusty was a bustling city in the outskirts of the desolated sand dunes of the Vada Desert. As a traveler approaches the dusty, the first thing he would notice is the unique smell from the blend of gunpowder and spices. The next thing he would notice is the loud ruckus, as peddlers try to hawk their wares of weaponry, exotic cuisine and performance enhancers.

A dusty is a city yet not a city. Quiet in the night and tumultuous in the day, it is the type of town where no one will ask too many questions. Dusties are also almost always on neutral ground, therefore accessible to anyone, and away from the prying eyes of any pseudo-nation.

It is no wonder the assassins refer to dusties as 'sanctuary'. To such an extent that there exists an unspoken rule of no hits within a dusty. However, that did not prevent numerous 'accidents' from occurring from time to time.

The Nevada Dusty was seemed like any other dusty. Half of the town was a bustling marketplace of poisons, ammunition, explosives and dubious shelter. So long as people were alive, they were satisfied. The other half was a different place altogether.

Known as the 'Casino Strip', the other half was an intoxicating mixture of neon-lights and large hotels, complete with brightly-lit fountains. Well-dressed people swarmed throughout the strange land, starkly different from its run-down neighbour. Behind the scenes was a dizzying spell of gambling, alcohol and sex.

Crosshair normally enjoyed that side of town. Beautiful women everywhere, booze, roulette tables to cheat in, what is there not to like? However, this time, Crosshair ignored all these with a head full of questions. Jack had landed them near Nevada Dusty, allowing them to leave. Should he recquire their services, he would find them.

Find them? How? Nanites certainly have limited range and Crosshair had contacts. He could travel to a far-away place and he would be instantly off the grid. Yet, when speaking of one of the most infamous assassins of all time, Crosshair was certain Jack would find him. These bothersome questions irritated him, leaving him unable to enjoy the electrifying scene around him. This left him in a very bad mood as entered the BME.

The Bank of Monetary Exchange, also known as 'Blood Money Everywhere' to the assassins, was one of the firms which cashed into the rapid rise of the Assassins Era. They promised savings accounts which were safe from prying, secure from other assassins and with high interest rates. Assassins had to keep blood money in a safe place, and the BME was the best.

Crosshair stepped in, but not before noticing a shadow disappear in the corner of his super-sharp eyes. It was just a flicker, but enough to keep him on the alert.

"Ho Ho, didn't expect to see you here." A strange raspy voice was heard behind him. Crosshair frowned. This was just not his day.

"This is the BME. Don't I have a right to be here, Knight?" Crosshair replied, a tone of disgust in his voice. Knights were similar to assassins, yet very different. Skilled with weapons, they were bodyguards and bounty hunters, lethal enemies to assassins. Like assassins, however, their loyalty will lie towards the highest bidder.

"Sure you are. Just checking if you are up to anything, Crosshair of the Neueranian Cyborg Corps."

"Nothing's up. This is strange, you talking to me. I thought Knights aren't supposed to meet with their client's customers."

"Aw, just a little chit-chat, you know, for old times sake? Besides, I saw something that interested me when I saw your account details..."

"You saw my..." Crosshair grasped his hands on his Silent Night handgun. To hell with the Bank's Rules.

"Temper, temper. Do it, fool, just try. Come on, give me the excuse to kill you."

Crosshair forced himself to calm down for the umpteenth time that day. He gritted his teeth, and tried to resume the calm tone. "You said you found some thing interesting."

"Ah yes. I did. A large sum had just been debited into your account recently. Almost double of what you had, actually. Now, from that look of surprise on your face, I'll bet you do not have any clue why that is so either, hmm?"

"Nope, must have been a good friend returning me my cash, I guess." Crosshair said with a smug look in his face. Inside, however, he was elated. He was going to check if what Jack said was true, but it seems that he wasn't lying.

"Likely story. Tell me the truth, assassin, so we can stop playing games. Where did that money come from? A job, perhaps?"

"No idea, Knight. Oh, look at the time, I must be going." Crosshair said in a cheerful tone as he turned and walked towards the exit.

"I'm gonna find out, Assassin. And when I do, I'll make sure your ass won't survive like the last time, you get it?"

Crosshair didn't reply, wordlessly leaving the BME in a much better mood.



I'm... At peace.

The sounds of clashing medical equipment, sounded like white noise to Carnage, his 8 foot figure was still lying peacefully on the hospice floor undisturbed. A thin greying man dressed like a surgeon was busying himself with several sharp instruments on a metal plate, methodically cleaning them as he spoke.

"Subject: Carnage. His overall status of health is a peak condition, though he seems to be insensitive to sound, probably because of his constant experience in the battlefield." Doctor Strange said to his hovering camera, "His epinephrine levels seem at a low finally, but still at a level five times higher than a normal human."

Carnage opened his eyes uneasily, his right eye was much larger than his left, which was covered by a large scar. His muscle structure was imbalanced and improportionate, his right arm was larger from the bulk of his muscles compared to his more normal sized left. Blood oozed from the bullet holes on his chest, pushing slugs out before instantly cogulating.

"Highly remarkable. On top of an enhanced adrenal gland, he has enhanced healing which borderline on instant regeneration!"

Carnage opened his eyes wide open and tried to get up to face the sound, but his arms were weak and powerless, legs unresponsive, the only thing he could move was his face.

"Who...are?" he said, as a string of drool leaked from the side of his mouth.

"Awake?" Doctor Strange had the astonished look of a man who just realised his house burnt down. "Erm... Hi! I am your friendly neighbourhood doctor?"

"NOOO!!" Carnage screamed, his eyes bulged as his temper rised. He felt his entire body convulse. A near-by monitor started to beep rapidly, indicating exponential rise in adrenaline levels.

"Fascinating!" Doctor Strange whispered, before shaking his head to reality. "Calm down! You shouldn't move now. You have not slept ever since your experimentation at Jakron began, and you can't rise so quickly! Although the fact that you can stay awake despite the amount of sedative used is..."

"ARGH!" He forcefully got up, his muscles aching painfully with every movement, excruciating pain amounted and surged to his heart, forcing him back down to the operating table. His body started to convulse as the operating table started to shake dangerously.

"Listen! Calm down please!"

"Yargh!" He roared, refusing to listen. Tears began to roll down his face, as he swung wildly. His massive arms slammed against a nearby apparatus, catapulting the object to the far end of the room. Doctor Strange cringed as the expensive equipment left a massive crater in the wall.

A convincing testament of the brute's strength.

"Stop it! Jack gave me his permission!" Doctor Strange pleaded, a last-ditch effort to prevent the behemothic man from destroying his precious laboratory.

Silence followed, in sharp contrast to the mayhem that preceded it. A mere mention of Jack's name seemed to have calmed the giant down to a great extent. The "beeps" starting to get softer and slower, as Carnage slowed. Doctor Strange wondered whether the man understood what he was saying, or if it was just the sound of the Ripper's name; intelligence wise, Carnage was a huge question mark. Whatever it is, Jack had obviously left a big impression on the man.

Carnage turned slightly as he settled down, and found himself looking at the splinter of the mirror. He stared at its reflective surface, fixated.

"Okay, now I'm going to..." Doctor Strange paused mid-sentence as he realised what Carnage was staring at. He was hit by a strange feeling melancholia as he witnessed the bizarre scene of the huge, muscle-bound humanoid gazed in fixed attention at a reflection of himself. Was that sadness in the brute's eyes?

What could he be thinking?

"You don't have to worry about me." Doctor Strange whispered in a quiet, comforting tone. "Even now, I bet Jack is somewhere observing this, ready to kill me should something go wrong." It was a statement of fact. Jack had already told Strange, in his own way, that Carnage was not to be fooled with. And the Ripper was one man that the good doctor, if anyone, would not trifle with.

He took a large utonium-tipped syringe, and nervously walked towards Carnage as he proceeded to inject a higher dose of sedative. It was a hesitant gesture, as if Carnage would rip his head right off at any time; he was certainly capable of doing so. Doctor Strange's caution was, in the end, unnecessary, as Carnage calmly watched the injection. It was as if the Brute knew that he would not cross the line. Strange looked around anxiously; perhaps Carnage could sense the Ripper's presence.

Carnage's eyes started to close, as the sedatives start to kick in. As Strange watched him, he felt a sense of tranquility, as if Carnage and him had already been best of friends.

"You know, you and I are similar. I may be way smarter than you, but we are both good at what we do, and yet have to pay a price for it." Stranged paused, giggling. "Hehehahahahehe... My methods may be a little unorthodox, but it is effective. Yet the medical faculty labeled me as an outcast. Calling me a "monster". Hehehehahahaha..."

Tears welled up in Strange's eyes as he laughed. "A monster. Hahahahahehehehehe... Just like you, eh? Maybe that is a good thing, a world like this needs monsters like us. Hahahahehehehahahahaha..."

Doctor Strange laughed and giggled, at a joke only he would know. Echoes of his laughter reverberated across the empty laboratory, the world laughing with him.

Somewhere in the shadows, a smile appeared and vanished.


Scope sipped her coffee as she read. Words on the screen sped upwards as she scanned through the data. The SCC was a brilliant tool as it provided various hints or patterns of what she needed to find. Once in a while, she would stop, and directing certain portions of data to another of the SCC's screens.

She heard a door close behind her, but she did not bother to look,unwilling to pry her concentration away from her work. Besides, the Securus was one of the most secure places she knew.

"You know, that attitude might get you killed one day." a voice said, as if reading her mind.

Scope giggled, eyes still stuck on the screen. "That is true if you wanted me killed. And if that were the case, would turning around have prevented that?"

"True enough. Then again, you never know when you might have the upper hand. Luck is a strange thing." Jack chuckled as he leaned on the chair that Scope was sitting on.

Scope smiled. Out of the assassins that she has encountered in her life, she felt most comfortable with Jack. It was ironical, as he was probably the most dangerous one. That fact also sounded strange, as Jack was unassuming, always relaxed, always jovial and friendly. No one would have guessed he was an assassin, if not for the wicked blade sheathed on his back.

"Seen anything of interest?" Jack's voice interrupted her thoughts. Scope blushed, embarrassed that her mind strayed momentarily from her work. She quickly focused her eyes back to the screen and paused in realisation of the words in front of her.

"This..." she began.

"...Is interesting." Jack completed for her. His eyes were already on the screen, devouring the information. He bent over to get a better look at the screen, seemingly unbeknownst that Scope was right underneath him.

"Extrasensory perception? Jack, what is this? Why would such data be present in Jakron Asylum?" Scope asked as she shifted her head closer to Jack, her heart skipping a beat at the intoxicating proximity.

Jack shook his head slightly. "I am not sure myself." He murmured, as if talking to himself. He straightened, to the disappointment of Scope, and frowned. Then, without warning, he turned and headed towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Scope enquired.

"To talk to someone about this." Jack replied with cold determination in his eyes. For a moment, Scope saw an entirely different person standing in front of her. It was a someone who is cunning and ruthless, incapable of feeling guilt, pain or pleasure.

And for that moment, she felt an intense feeling of fear.

Jack paused, as if remembering something. "Scope, I need you you to run an errand for me. Take this and leave the Securus now." He whipped a card out of his pocket and flicked it. Scope watched as it sailed through the air before landing on the SCC's enormous keyboard.

Scope picked it up. It seemed like a regular playing card, the Jack of Spades. She turned the card over, and was confronted by a large silver 'M' emblazoned on a black background, like a brand of the playing card. She looked up with a bewildered look.

Jack grinned. "Tell him I said 'hi'," he said as he walked out of the room.


Scope held her jacket tightly around her protectively. The night in the Vada Desert is frightfully cold, with unforgiving winds that felt for no man. Yet here she was, in the middle of the desert with just a jacket for warmth, on the whim of Jack, waiting for something to happen.

Scope tried to peer through the blanket of darkness, wondering what she was doing. The only light she had was the half moon in the sky and the occassional flashing beam from the S.S. Securus hovering above her. She considered going back up; she felt utterly foolish standing there.

A sudden strong gust of wind blew. Flying specks of sand forced her to cover her face with her arm. As she lowered her arm, she saw a figure materialize in front of her. The figure was of a evenly built man, wearing a uniform tuxedo and a blazer jacket which flapped in the desert winds.

"Let uz go zomewhere elz warmer, mon cherie."

With that, an arm reached for her and led her by her elbow, beckoning her to the vehicle behind him. It was only then that she realized the limousine. The long luxury sedan in the middle of a desert was strangely out of place, but she pushed these thoughts aside and entered the mobile.

The door slid down behind her with a click, and with that the fresh open air smell of the desert was shut out instantly, replaced quickly with the sweet smell of leather and a mild tang of smoke, possibly from a cigar. There was no one with her, the person she met was presumably the chauffeur.

The vehicle started to vibrate slightly upon ignition, and began to glide through the desert sand effortlessly. The tinted windows and desert sands made it difficult her to judge the speed or direction she was going. A quick check to her mobile device confirmed her suspicions. Not only was there no signal, her device was not even working properly, disrupted, presumably, by some form of electromagnet. She was taken off the grid in record time.

"Would de moiselle like some champagne?" A voice with strong french accent asked her through the speakers at the back. The arm cushions at the side slid outwards to reveal a hole which a champagne glass emerged from, filled with sparkling gold.

"No, I don't drink..." she began.

"Even if someone drinks with you?"

She jumped at the sound of the voice which definitely did not come from the speakers, but from someone right in front of her. She looked up, stunned at the sight of a man sitting on the couch opposite her. He wore a white silk shirt that hung well on his shoulders, his hand grasping a glass of red wine by the flat hand, casually swirling it around. Not to mention that he was the definition of devilish handsome, with a distinct air of class.

"When were you here? Who..." Scope began as she collected her senses.

"I just arrived. And I am the Maverick."

Scope gulped silently and reached for the champagne glass. Maverick was the infamous owner of the Casino Strip, which is the biggest gambling center in the world. It is potentially the richest corporation as well; the Casino Strip was the center of attraction for the rich and powerful, all under the watchful eyes of Maverick.

Maverick, considered at one point the highest paid assassin of all time, had "retired early" and set up the Casino Strip. Being a hot spot for attention, many thieves had attempted to 'break bank', only to realize that owner of the strip was a famed assassin. It was quickly made clear to everyone; in the Casino Strip, the House always wins.

"Good evening, Scope. Ah, I see you have Jack's calling card! " He said with a straight face, his once free hand was now toying with the Jack of Spades card.

"Yes, he asked me to say... Hi"

"Hi, indeed. Interesting man, that Jack." Maverick's straight face broke into an amused smile, which turned into a wide grin. It was then that Scope realised that she had never passed the card to him at all.

"I assume you have the money that he owes me?" Continued Maverick, as if not noticing her surprise.

"He... What?" Scope immediately had a sneaking suspicion why Jack chose a non-assassin to perform this 'errand', and something told her that it was going to be a long, long day.


"... and after you have changed into your uniform, meet me at the tables." Maverick said as he left Scope in the small cluttered locker room. Scope looked at the ridiculous bunny costume, complete with ears and bushy tail, and sighed in exasperation. She left the room moments later, and soon arrived at the tables.

The Strip was exactly as she imagined; extravagant and lively. There were thousands of tables, filled with players dressed in the wildest of fashions, and around them were thousands of bunny girls and men with wires. Not to mention the troupe of jugglers that entertained as they roamed the playing areas, tossing flaming knives and catching it with their mouths. The giant chandelier above glittered and lit up the room like a sun, changing colours randomly as time passed.

"Amazing..." Scope said, spellbound.

"Glad you enjoy the pretty lights! Come with me, there is a table that we shall be serving together." Maverick appeared from behind and scooped her waist, guiding her to a "D" shaped black jack table with 3 men seated around the curve and a dealer in the front.

"Good evening, gentlemen! Allow me" Maverick said as he flashed his million dollar smile around the table, and gave a knowing nod to the croupier. The croupier smiled in silent acknowledgment and left the cards on the table.

Once his hands touched the cards, Scope realised that Maverick became a completely different person. He spread the cards across the table and flipped them over before scooping them up. With a cheeky grin, he cut the deck into three parts with one hand before sliding it into the card machine for shuffling.

"Place your bets, boys."

"Get me a beer, would you, toots." the smallest guy of the bunch gestured at Scope. With an indignant flip of a bunny ear, she left to the bar.

When she returned, only that diminutive man remained. Maverick had a stack of chips which he probably wiped from the other two man.

"I see the big man himself decides to run with the dogs today," he said. His expensive velvet suit was complete with a gold watch and was as glitzy as they came.

"Oh, why not? It is not often the Strip sees the likes of you, Shark." Maverick replied calmly.

Scope almost dropped the drink she was serving. Shark was one of the most sinister assassins alive, and was a cult figure in a time before Ripper. His signature knife throwing was legendary. Shark ignored Scope and stared hard at Maverick, his eyes turning to thin slits and his large sharp nose pointing dangerously.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Mav?"

Maverick smiled and dealt Shark a card face up, an ace of diamonds.

"It means that I know whom you are dealing with now, Shark." He dealt his own hand, which was an Ace of Spades. The second deal for Shark came smoothly, a Nine Clubs. The last card he drew for himself remained face down.

"Want to buy insurance?" Maverick asked cheekily.

"Against the likes of you? You and what army, Maverick." Shark snarled.

Maverick flipped the face down card open, revealing a Jack of Spades.

"Looks like I've got Jack, and the house takes all."

Shark pushed his chips in anger and left his seat. To Scope's surprise, he wasn't much taller than when he was seated. Without a backwards glance, he left and even as Scope tried to follow him with her eyes, he faded deep into the life of the Strip.

With a shrug, Maverick offered his arm to Scope, which she slipped her hand into. He walked her towards the exit and escorted her into a stretch limousine.

"Thank you so much for gracing us with your presence, Scope, and tell Jack that your stay has been most informative. Here's your tip!" Maverick flipped a coin to her. It was a chip from the tables. Before she could ask any questions, Maverick closed the door, and the driver sped off immediately.

"Take care,
mon cherie."


wj said...

update: Besides the new image which we are still currently working on, we have also changed the storyline in Chapter 4, especially around the last part. Enjoy.

ツバサ said...

The new chapter is too short...There is neither head nor tail to this chapter, no linkage to the previous chapters. You should extend this chapter further.

wj said...

The chapter is incomplete and will be updated in due time.

wj said...

As for the start, did you take into consideration the change in the ending of the last chapter? If so, please elaborate a bit more so we can improve.

ツバサ said...

I'm so sorry. I didn't notice that. However, you still need to further expand the current chapter. So what will happen to Captain Taylor? And the part on Deathtrap - the fight between him and the Raider Assassin seemed hollow. Maybe you can also expand on that further, otherwise it looked as if it's merely a filler.

I think it will be easier to edit it if I can send you the mistakes through email. It's a little difficult to edit it this way.

wj said...

The current chapter will definitely be expanded. Each update will provide a part of it denoted by the '~', since we do not write and upload the whole chapter all at once. We, however, might be changing this way of writing.

The first round of editing is already underway, courtesy of w_h. I believe he has already finished with the first chapter. Don't worry, I'll pass on your comments to him.

Anyone who wants to send me comments or criticisms can email me at

wj said...

Update: Due to the antagonizing, extremely inflexible Blogger, we are abandoning the plans to change our image, and will be focusing on the story instead. This includes extensive editing and updates.

Anonymous said...

WJ, dude suggestions are good and could be taken into consideration, but seriously like the build on! Dun u get it bro, u have effectively been able to get ur readers engrossed! That is why they want more details to ur story! The whole selling point of ur story is the mystery that surround it, which is suggestive since this is a story based on assassins! Building on an individual's character is not a simple style of writing! Keep it up, starting to see the twists and turns! Especially the fact on how Whisper coming to a sudden realisation of who Jack was!

wj said...

Hmm... so the question is: Do i reveal more or perhaps try to increase the mystery? Or maybe both. :D Currently, working on the terms and definitions. I would like to thank everyone for their constructive criticisms and comments so far. I sincerely thank each one of you for contributing to this storyblog (or flog) in their own way.

Anonymous said...

Being the writer u will have to choose a style that suits yourself. Yes it is true that getting into ur own comfort zone might kill the story altogether, however onli being able to convince urself that the style of writing you have adopted is ur normal flow could you work the story further! Hehe, i guess you have already made ur own decisions on how to carry the story further! Trust urself dude! Cheers Wishing you a Happy Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

wj said...

Agreed and will do... Merry christmas to you too! In fact, Merry Christmas to all our readers! and a happy new year...:D

ah xian said...

you should write faster! i keep forgetting what happened in front when i read a new chapter. haha. :)

Franklin said...

Good job... waiting for your next update or the completion of Chapter 5! :)

wj said...

Thanks for commenting. Chapter 5 is complete. Chapter 6 is currently underway.

Scifi Chrome said...

The first part of your chapter... the fight with the kid.... it needed more actions and less word... even so it worked on a level... After reading that I was a bit lost as to what was going on. It took me a while to realize that you had actually changed pace and was describing another event in your universe of action. Once I got used to the idea that we had actually changed paces and scenes the other end got really interesting. I have to admit it kept me wrapped up for quite a bit. (scifichrome fan)

wj said...

Good analysis. Ill definitely take that into consideration. The starting part of the chapter is meant to be short, although it seems to be getting longer as we write.

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