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Description
The Night - Part One

100 years ago, The District was devastated by an unknown force, leaving only the empty shell of the city behind. Battered and torn skyscrapers lay strewn amidst ruined factories, industrial complexes, warehouses and residential apartments.There was no life in the still chaos that lay between The Rifts, great gashes in the landscape 5 miles apart, 10 miles deep and 50 miles long. Water used to occupy these rifts, but that which supplied the city for so long had since dried up. On the other side of the Rift's once verdant plains were now barren rockscapes. Nothing lived here; not anymore.
When the disaster came, those in the middle had nowhere to run. Of course, any who survived the disaster were long dead. Many were too traumatized to account for what happened, and many more were 'silenced' by The Coalition. And as a result no-one really knows what happened, most don't really care.
But if they did know, that would all change.

A man stood atop the roof of the tallest skyscraper to remain standing. He was rather non-descript, swathed in a long black coat that flapped lazily in the breeze, and long dark hair that followed suit. He stared out over The District. The devastated strip was bathed in a dim light that fell slowly from the grey overcast hanging above his head. The wind was light, but gaining strength.
It may rain later, he thought.
Just then he caught a glimmer out of the corner of his eye, moving slowly down below across the rubble towards his position.
He stared at it for a while, before turning and walking towards the centre of the roof. He then moved over to an old ventilation block, crouched behind and found a small device on his belt. After pressing a few buttons he disappeared from sight.
Invisibility would be his greatest ally for now.

A minute went by as he remained still; the wind picked up a little, causing the silence to waver slightly. Another minute and a low, steady drone grew louder and louder until it became clear that a helicopter was approaching.
The noise continued to grow until the larger craft rose up, and hovered with a commanding view of the roof, blasting it at the same time with a violent torrent of air. It moved forward, and began to descend, landing a minute later. The air died rapidly as the blades stopped spinning.
The brief still was broken by the mechanics of a door, and 20 well-armed soldiers poured out the back of the helicopter, taking up positions in a tight cluster around their landing zone.
Then another figure walked off the helicopter. A women this time, at least 26 years-old with pale blonde shoulder-length hair, and in a neat, well-pressed officers uniform. Judging from the insignia on her coat, she was a Colonel. Her only weapon, a pistol, was holstered on her belt, and was partially obscured from view.
She scanned the area carefully before tapping one of the soldiers on the shoulder. The soldier stood up, gun ready, and walked slowly forward towards the ventilation block while three more men followed.
Peeking out from behind the block he observed the men moving towards him. He felt for the device on his belt and adjusted it so that it would deactivate after thirty seconds. Then he began to count.

The soldiers continued to move forward. The leader took every step with caution and looked left then right with careful timing. The wind faded slightly.
The leader suddenly snapped forward as a peculiar distortion came towards him. The leader flicked off his safety as the distortion unravelled to reveal a dark figure wielding a katana with a black blade. The leader knew immediately that this was the one they were searching for, but by then he was already dead.

He pulled out his blade from the chest of the first man, swung around and cut a deep gash in the stomach of the second. Another swing and the third man lost his left arm, who dropped to the ground, reeling from the shock. The fourth man was still struggling with his safety.
He ran forward and plunged his katana deep into his stomach. He then proceeded to pull a grenade of the wounded mans belt, activated it and threw it towards the helicopter. The blast threw clear seven men, killing five. He pulled out his sword and the man slumped tothe ground, quite dead.
Five soldiers stood in front of the Colonel, while the other four moved the two wounded onto the helicopter. She stared into the mans eyes.

"You always were one for the theatrical, weren't you, Two Seven?"

He stood silently and unmoving, katana at his side.

"I always preferred a more elegant weapon." He replied, quietly.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him carefully.

"You know why we're here, Two Seven. The Night isn't pleased when one of its operatives leaves without permission."

Still he stood. Unmoving. Unresponsive. A few drops of rain began falling.

"We're here to give you one last chance. If you don't come back with us we'll have no other choice but to kill you."

He remained silent. The rain fell a little harder.

"I don't mind getting my hands dirty." She said, irritation growing in her voice.
He turned his head slightly and stared back at her.

"You can try."

She clenched her fists briefly.

"In that case I will."

She banged twice on the helicopter, and its engines roared back into life.

"Everyone, back in the transport. We'll be taking him down a little later." She shouted as the blades began to spin. She turned back once the last man was on.

"And we will succeed, Two Seven, one day we, no I, will succeed."

He could barely hear her over the noise. The falling rain was scattered by the raging air as the helicopter ascended and flew off over the abandoned skyline.
He tracked it as it disappeared into the horizon, and continued to stand there in the wind and rain. He noted the light was getting faintly dimmer.
It'll be night soon, he thought. He sheathed his blade and made his way over to a trapdoor set into the wet concrete. He opened it, and with a final glance towards the horizon, he dropped down.

The still returned to the silent city.

Description
The Night - Part One

100 years ago, The District was devastated by an unknown force, leaving only the empty shell of the city behind. Battered and torn skyscrapers lay strewn amidst ruined factories, industrial complexes, warehouses and residential apartments.There was no life in the still chaos that lay between The Rifts, great gashes in the landscape 5 miles apart, 10 miles deep and 50 miles long. Water used to occupy these rifts, but that which supplied the city for so long had since dried up. On the other side of the Rift's once verdant plains were now barren rockscapes. Nothing lived here; not anymore.
When the disaster came, those in the middle had nowhere to run. Of course, any who survived the disaster were long dead. Many were too traumatized to account for what happened, and many more were 'silenced' by The Coalition. And as a result no-one really knows what happened, most don't really care.
But if they did know, that would all change.

A man stood atop the roof of the tallest skyscraper to remain standing. He was rather non-descript, swathed in a long black coat that flapped lazily in the breeze, and long dark hair that followed suit. He stared out over The District. The devastated strip was bathed in a dim light that fell slowly from the grey overcast hanging above his head. The wind was light, but gaining strength.
It may rain later, he thought.
Just then he caught a glimmer out of the corner of his eye, moving slowly down below across the rubble towards his position.
He stared at it for a while, before turning and walking towards the centre of the roof. He then moved over to an old ventilation block, crouched behind and found a small device on his belt. After pressing a few buttons he disappeared from sight.
Invisibility would be his greatest ally for now.

A minute went by as he remained still; the wind picked up a little, causing the silence to waver slightly. Another minute and a low, steady drone grew louder and louder until it became clear that a helicopter was approaching.
The noise continued to grow until the larger craft rose up, and hovered with a commanding view of the roof, blasting it at the same time with a violent torrent of air. It moved forward, and began to descend, landing a minute later. The air died rapidly as the blades stopped spinning.
The brief still was broken by the mechanics of a door, and 20 well-armed soldiers poured out the back of the helicopter, taking up positions in a tight cluster around their landing zone.
Then another figure walked off the helicopter. A women this time, at least 26 years-old with pale blonde shoulder-length hair, and in a neat, well-pressed officers uniform. Judging from the insignia on her coat, she was a Colonel. Her only weapon, a pistol, was holstered on her belt, and was partially obscured from view.
She scanned the area carefully before tapping one of the soldiers on the shoulder. The soldier stood up, gun ready, and walked slowly forward towards the ventilation block while three more men followed.
Peeking out from behind the block he observed the men moving towards him. He felt for the device on his belt and adjusted it so that it would deactivate after thirty seconds. Then he began to count.

The soldiers continued to move forward. The leader took every step with caution and looked left then right with careful timing. The wind faded slightly.
The leader suddenly snapped forward as a peculiar distortion came towards him. The leader flicked off his safety as the distortion unravelled to reveal a dark figure wielding a katana with a black blade. The leader knew immediately that this was the one they were searching for, but by then he was already dead.

He pulled out his blade from the chest of the first man, swung around and cut a deep gash in the stomach of the second. Another swing and the third man lost his left arm, who dropped to the ground, reeling from the shock. The fourth man was still struggling with his safety.
He ran forward and plunged his katana deep into his stomach. He then proceeded to pull a grenade of the wounded mans belt, activated it and threw it towards the helicopter. The blast threw clear seven men, killing five. He pulled out his sword and the man slumped tothe ground, quite dead.
Five soldiers stood in front of the Colonel, while the other four moved the two wounded onto the helicopter. She stared into the mans eyes.

"You always were one for the theatrical, weren't you, Two Seven?"

He stood silently and unmoving, katana at his side.

"I always preferred a more elegant weapon." He replied, quietly.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him carefully.

"You know why we're here, Two Seven. The Night isn't pleased when one of its operatives leaves without permission."

Still he stood. Unmoving. Unresponsive. A few drops of rain began falling.

"We're here to give you one last chance. If you don't come back with us we'll have no other choice but to kill you."

He remained silent. The rain fell a little harder.

"I don't mind getting my hands dirty." She said, irritation growing in her voice.
He turned his head slightly and stared back at her.

"You can try."

She clenched her fists briefly.

"In that case I will."

She banged twice on the helicopter, and its engines roared back into life.

"Everyone, back in the transport. We'll be taking him down a little later." She shouted as the blades began to spin. She turned back once the last man was on.

"And we will succeed, Two Seven, one day we, no I, will succeed."

He could barely hear her over the noise. The falling rain was scattered by the raging air as the helicopter ascended and flew off over the abandoned skyline.
He tracked it as it disappeared into the horizon, and continued to stand there in the wind and rain. He noted the light was getting faintly dimmer.
It'll be night soon, he thought. He sheathed his blade and made his way over to a trapdoor set into the wet concrete. He opened it, and with a final glance towards the horizon, he dropped down.

The still returned to the silent city.