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The doomed man steps onto the roof's ledge. Below stares back an empty street and empty sidewalk. He's going to die.
Unseen, lounging on a shadowed balcony across the street, another man, a younger man, an ageless man, inhales the delicious terror. He lifts a finger. An invisible string pulls.
Back on the roof, the doomed man lifts a foot.
Lightning flashes across the sky. Thunder crashes above them.
The doomed man falls.
The doomed man wasn't supposed to fall.
Shinsou jolts up from his chair. He knows he didn't command the other to do that. All he needed was to make him confront his mortality, push him to the edge before yanking him back. Alive.
The storm's gone.
Shinsou braces himself for the inevitable gruesome sight. He peers down.
The corpse he expects to find isn't there. Nothing is. Not a single trace of blood.
There's a blur of movement below him. Shinsou retreats back into the shadows before investigating.
Someone's there. Walking out from the alleyway beside his apartment complex. The stanger stops, just past Shinsou's unit. Then, he turns back. He looks up.
Shinsou freezes upon being seen.
The stranger winks at him.
For the first time in a long time, Shinsou feels like prey.
It keeps happening. Each time Shinsou's about to trap a target or cut the strings and relinquish his control, the air around them sparks to life with electricity. Blinding lightning suddenly streaks across the sky. Booming thunder always follows.
An avatar of The Vast. An annoying and cocky avatar of The Vast. The blonde is flashy with his kills; his parlor tricks in the sky announcing his presence every time. As if the man's never heard of subtlety.
The blonde's not approached him. Yet. However, The Vast avatar never fails to spot him. It's unsettling. Shinsou hates those golden eyes. Upon finding Shinsou, the other avatar will wink, or smirk, or both. Once, he stuck out his tongue, a truely childish taunt. Sometimes, he will shoot Shinsou a mock salute, dual thumbs up, or finger guns.
Shinsou is utterly confounded by the looks and gestures. That prey feeling never goes away while the other is near, making Shinsou uneasy and on edge every time.
The only logical explanation for the other avatar's strange behavior is that he's gloating. Gloating that he's a thief, a thief too cool to stalk his own meals, a thief dependent on stealing the fruits of others' labors.
Shinsou hates his guts. His face. His piercing gaze. His unnaturally yellow blonde hair. Shinsou hates his storms. His winks. His finger guns.
Shinsou longs for the chance to trap the interfering asshole, to string him up, and take control. Maybe have him fall off a few buildings of Shinsou's choosing. Clearly, the guy has a thing for falling. Or Shinsou could make him stand in front of oncoming traffic. Or force his pretty lips apart... hear his obnoxious voice as Shinsou pulls out the reason why he's chosen to personally torment Shinsou.
Once he thinks it, he can't stop.
A trap. One fit for an avatar of The Vast. No, not any avatar. This avatar.
Shinsou weaves... and waits.
Shinsou cashes in his favor with Midoriya, The Analyst, avatar of The Eye. The green haired professor sets up several blocks away, not wanting to tip off their target.
Shinsou despises feeling watched. He grits through the discomfort. Better Midoriya and The Eye than Blondie and The Vast.
"He's approaching now. From the air. Oh, he's flying unassisted."
Shinsou knows that tone. Midoriya's one observation away from fixating on the other avatar's abilities. "Not the time," he bites back, voice sharp.
"Of course. He's landed. Heading to your location by foot now."
Showtime.
"Thank you."
Shinsou ends the call. Now take the bait.
The doomed woman removes her heels. She lifts them over the side of the bridge. She lets go. The shoes plummet down, breaking the windshield of an incoming car.
She lifts her skirt.
She hikes one leg over the concrete wall. Then, her other leg.
Below, vehicle lights blur together.
Lightning lights up the night sky. The roar of thunder chases after.
The woman tips backwards. She was supposed to fall forwards. Like her shoes.
Blondie stops walking.
When the woman smashes onto the bridge, her form deflates. Nothing shatters. No blood seeps out to pool around her. Her face is pulled into a frozen scream. From the woman's open mouth crawl out thousands upon thousands of spiders. All that remains is skin and bones.
A corpse. The woman was already dead before tonight.
Blondie rocks onto his heels, hands in the pockets of his cropped jacket.
The spiders weave their webs. Their silk threads criss-cross and surround the avatar. One step and he's caught.
Shinsou leaves his vantage point.
Blondie's eyes meet his.
Shinsou stops at the outskirts of the woven trap. He raises a hand and flicks his fingers towards the man. The mental strings shoot forward and burrow through the avatar's clothes, into his limbs.
Blondie grins. As if he's not been outsmarted and humbled. As if his very life doesn't now rest in Shinsou's hands. Shinsou wants to bite the self-satisfied look off his dumb face.
Blondie suggestively licks his lips. "Hey, Handsome. Took you long enough."