Hollow

Neo-Tokyo.

A person was sitting in a luxurious hotel room, staring blankly at a wall. This hotel was one of the most luxurious places in Neo-Tokyo, with plush upholstery, soft carpeting, and elegant furnishings. The walls were adorned with high-quality reproductions of famous paintings, giving the space a touch of class.

However, the luxury of the room seemed to fade into the background, as a sense of worry emanated from the person sitting on the edge of the king sized hotel bed. There was a glass of expensive wine in his hand, which he sipped from occasionally. His attire was formal, similar to the opulence surrounding him.

The man sighed, as he took one of the expensive wine bottles and placed it to his lips, drinking deeply before he set the bottle back onto the table. The wine was of excellent quality but it did little to lighten his troubled mind.

This person was Hiroshi ishikawa.

He ran a frustrated hand through his tousled hair, his brown eyes fixed on the half-empty wine bottle. This wasn't the first bottle of wine he had consumed today. He was clearly using alcohol as a way to cope with whatever was troubling him, and he was far from drunk. His tolerance for alcohol was probably higher than most, which made it harder for him to reach a certain level of drunkenness.

Despite the luxury surrounding him, Hiroshi looked visibly worn out and tired. His usual calm, easy-going demeanor was nowhere to be found.

This was by far the worst day in his life.

He leaned his head back, taking another sip of the red alcohol and letting out a heavy sigh. This was only supposed to be a routine mission. Simple, quick, straightforward.

He, along with a group of mercenaries, had been tasked with killing some people making trouble in Yokohama. After hours of preparation, he was confident that they would make it out unscathed. He had all the info he needed on his targets after all. They had the resources, the skills, and the experience. And yet, somehow everything had gone wrong.

He had once been a free man, a master of his own destiny. Now, he was serving a demon; a creature from deep within the depths of hell. And why? Just so he could survive.

It was a pitiful existence for Hiroshi. He was a victim and an accomplice of his own fate. He had willingly sold his soul to save his own skin.

It was a selfish act, one that he would likely regret for the rest of his life. Hiroshi knew that he shouldn't feel sorry for himself, but he couldn't help it. He hated himself for his weakness but he was a coward. He couldn't die there. He was afraid of death.

Hiroshi couldn't stop thinking about Lucifer (Hayate), his new master and Lucifer's plan's.

Lucifer had made his role clear: to be his servant. Hiroshi was nothing more than a puppet in Hayate's grand scheme. He was a means to an end, a tool for the demon to use as he saw fit.

Another thing Hiroshi was terrified of was Lucifer's power. No, magic. He had witnessed first-hand the power and abilities of his new master.

He had seen Lucifer teleport, use mind control, erase memories, and heal wounds with a snap of his fingers. All of these were beyond human comprehension, magic. Hiroshi had no idea what other powers Lucifer possessed, and he didn't want to find out.

The thought of what the demon could do to him or others made his blood run cold.

Hiroshi reached for a wine bottle on the table, not bothering to pour it in a glass. He lifted it to his lips and drank the sweet alcohol in one gulp. Some of it spilled down the side of his mouth, but he didn't care.

Hiroshi was in a bind. He was supposed to be in Yokohama right now, but instead he was sitting in a hotel room in Neo-Tokyo with a full wine bottle in his hand, dreading the thought of having to explain his situation to his superior.

"How am I going to explain this to them...God.."

He contemplated what story to tell his superior, knowing that any explanation must be believable. Perhaps he could say that slum dwellers or gangsters from the slums near Yokohama had attacked him and the mercenaries, and that he had somehow managed to escape. But then, what about Kazu and the others?

They were still alive, and he knew he needed to get to them before anyone else did so they didn't tell a different story.

What a headache. Hiroshi took another swig of the wine, feeling the alcohol burn its way down his throat.

Hiroshi let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with his situation. His eyes felt heavy and his mind was fuzzy. The effects of the alcohol were beginning to dull his senses, and it was hard to focus.

A knock on the door of his hotel room caught his attention, breaking him out of his thoughts. Hiroshi sat up on the bed, setting down the wine bottle. He looked towards the door.

"They're finally here."

He took a deep breath and got up from the bed. He wobbled slightly, his balance affected by the wine. Hiroshi took a moment to compose himself, smoothing down his clothes and running a hand through his messy hair. He glanced at himself in the hallway mirror, checking to see if he looked somewhat presentable.

He walked to the door, and slowly turned the handle, opening the door a bit. He peered out with a wary expression.

In front of him were ten people.

The men standing before Hiroshi were well-dressed and exuded a sense of authority. They appeared to be in their early 20s or late 20's, a little older than him. Their sharp eyes and stern expressions gave them an intimidating presence. All of them were familiar faces to Hiroshi, having been his co-workers and seniors in the company.

All of them were in formal wear – suits, ties, dress shoes. They wore designer shoes, watches, ties, cufflinks, and more. One man wore a fedora, another wore a cravat, and another wore sunglasses. The clothes seemed to be custom-made, with every piece fitting perfectly.

They were all well groomed with not a hair out of place. They stared at Hiroshi quietly, waiting for him to invite them inside. The reason they were all wearing formal wear right now was because they were just about to go to work.

"Come in," Hiroshi finally mumbled, opening the door further for them to enter. He stepped aside, allowing them to step into the hotel room. He couldn't help but feel a little awkward, given that they were fully dressed while he was sitting around in ruined clothing and drinking alcohol. As they filed into the room, Hiroshi took a moment to straighten his shirt and smooth his hair, trying to look somewhat presentable.

"Sorry for the mess," he said, gesturing towards the now-empty wine bottle on the table and his contaminated cloths.

"It's fine. Now, can we get straight to business Hirsohi-san. We don't want to be late."

Hiroshi silently acknowledged their lack of time by simply nodding his head. He closed the door behind the last person to enter, shutting out the outside world. He knew what was going to come next.

All eyes were on him, waiting for him to explain things. He took a shaky breath, his nerves kicking in once again. Hiroshi couldn't help but feel a little intimated by all the men surrounding him. He was the youngest here.

"Then—"

Hiroshi looked out at everyone.

"—Next, I shall announce our new direction. This is an absolute order."

Hiroshi paused here, and looked around. The people before him had serious, stern looks on their faces.

"Make Lucifer the Light-bringer and Angels of hell an legend."

He gripped the wine bottle tightly, and rapped it on the table as if it was a staff.

Then, as if responding to Hiroshi, the glass cracked on the bottle and it shattered into pieces while the air around him trembled.

"I've met a person today of unparalleled power. We were already preparing to make our own corporation in the future when we had amassed enough money but that won't be needed now. There may be many challenges, but we will surpass each and every one of them. We are now going to be serving under a person called Lucifer who's the leader of a organisation called Angels of hell. We will let everybody in this world know that Lucifer and the angels of hell the true heroes! If there are people stronger than us, we will deal with them in ways other than force. This is merely the starting phase in order to let everyone know that Lucifer the light bringer is the greatest. Let us fight together for this glorious future!"

This was it.

This was the start of his master's plan for world domination. All of these people here were from rich families and in the future, Hiroshi and all of them were planning to overthrow the Kusonoki conglomerate and basically establish a entirely new corporation so they could be in power but with the help of Lucifer, that wasn't needed. They could serve under him and rule the world.

Of course, it would be tough and Hiroshi didn't like this at all, it was better to go along than sulk in depression and be killed by Lucifer later on.

These people will be the founding member's of the cult of Light.

The men looked at Hiroshi in shock. The air in the room grew tense. The words he spoke were completely insane. They could not believe the person that they were looking at right now. They stared at him incredulously, shocked and bewildered. They waited for Hiroshi to tell them that he was just joking. Hiroshi was joking, right?

Some of the members exchanged glances with each other, wondering what was happening. Others were speechless, not sure how to respond to what Hiroshi had just announced.

One of the men spoke up, his voice laced with disbelief. "Are you serious, Hiroshi-san? What are you saying?"

The other members nodded in agreement. "Are you joking, Hiroshi-san? Is this some kind of prank?"

Another person chimed in. "This has to be a joke."

"It isn't."

Hiroshi put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small stone which was glowing red.

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The stone glowed with a deep red colour, casting an ominous light in the room. The members stared at the stone warily, their eyes widening as they saw the way it glowed. Hiroshi held the stone in his hand, showing it to everyone.

"This is proof of Lucifer's power."

Hiroshi crushed the stone in his hands and then the stone disintegrated into dust, which then spread and dispersed in the air but then from the ground, plant roots came out wrapping themselves around the men, binding themselves in place.

Magic.

The men's eyes widened further as they were restrained by the plant roots. They tried to struggle against the bindings, but the roots only tightened their grip. They could no longer move their arms or legs properly, trapped by the roots coming out of the ground.

One of the members spoke up, his voice slightly panicked. "What the hell is this? Magic?!"

"Precisely. I have a few more of these, lord Lucifer personally gave them to me to demonstrate just a small minuscule fraction of what he can do."

The men's faces went pale. Most of them had never believed in magic before, thinking of it as mere fantasy or fiction. They had assumed it to be nothing but myths and legends. But the fact that Hiroshi was showing them magic and saying he had received it from the hand of a demon themselves was a horrifying concept.

"Now, are you joining me or not. Help me make Lucifer an eternal legend and you will have anything and everything you desired."

One of the other members looked like he was going to throw up, but another one spoke up in a shaky voice. "This-this doesn't make any sense. Demons, magic. You can't be serious, Hiroshi-san."

"Yes. Or, No?"

Hiroshi asked in a firm tone, all his nervousness from before gone.

The men looked from each other to Hiroshi, their faces pale and their breathing still heavy. They were scared, afraid of what was happening now. The prospect of serving a demon had them shaken. They had just heard about magic being real and now they were being ordered to serve a real devil.

"I-I will," the first person who had asked if Hiroshi was serious said.

The others exchanged looks. The pressure was too great to resist.

"I pledge my loyalty!"

"Me too!"

And soon all ten people had said yes.

Hiroshi took a deep, shaky breath, sighing as his nervousness slowly returned. He had managed to convince the members to join him despite the shock it must have given them. Now he just needed to deal with the aftermath.

He looked at the people in front of him, now all silent, their faces filled with fear. "Well then, welcome to the cult of Light. We are the first people known to him and he has chosen us to build his empire. Everyone can go back now, I will call you all again in a few days and remember, do not spill the beans about this to anyone and I mean it."

The men nodded, all of them still looking a little scared. Hiroshi felt a sense of relief course through him. He was glad to get that over with. Hiroshi waited a minute in silence as the effects of the "spell" wore off and the plants disappeared and as soon as they did, everyone got up and made a beeline for the door, leaving.

Hiroshi sighed softly as the last person left, and then closed the door. His shoulders slumped, and he collapsed into the nearest chair.

This was the start of the end.

Just then Hiroshi felt a strange feeling, as if someone was trying to contact him through his Neurochip. It was a familiar feeling, one he had experienced before when someone called him and his Neurochip activated. He knew that his Neurochip would normally activate at such a moment, giving him the identity of the caller. But Hiroshi felt nothing, his chip remained dormant.

Confused and startled, he did the only thing he could think of – he mentally picked up the call in his mind. And then, he heard the dreaded voice of Lucifer, saying "Hello?"

Hiroshi's heart jumped to his throat as he heard Lucifer's voice. It was invading his mind like a sickness.

He thought that since Lucifer didn't have a neurochip. I mean who would implant it in someone like him. Instead, Lucifer was using some form of telepathy or magic to communicate with him directly. Hiroshi felt a shiver run down his spine. He hated the thought of being connected to Lucifer like this, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He forced himself to respond, knowing that he had no choice. "Yes, master? What is it that you need?" He tried to sound as respectful as possible, but he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.

"those mercenaries who were with you have died. Dispose of their bodies and cover it up make up a story or anything you want."

Hiroshi let out a deep breath as he processed Lucifer's instruction. He had known deep down that those mercenaries were most likely dead, but hearing the confirmation in Lucifer's cold, emotionless tone made him feel ill.

"Yes, master, I'll dispose of their bodies and make up a story to cover it up. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, that's all for now. I'll be in touch." And with that, the voice was gone, disappearing from Hiroshi's mind as quickly as it had appeared.

Hiroshi felt a wave of relief that the call was over, but it was a short-lived feeling. He now had to deal with the situation at hand. He had a few corpses to dispose of. He felt bad for Kazu and the others who had worked for him, and he had a certain level of respect for them. He had hired them quite a few times, and maybe even considered them specially Kazu as a friend. And now they were dead. The thought made Hiroshi feel sick to his stomach. But in a way, it also made his lie easier.

Since they were dead, he could spin a story that they had all died while protecting him from the gangsters who had attacked them, and that he had managed to escape in the chaos.

He knew that this lie might not hold up under too much scrutiny, but he hoped that no one would ask too many questions. It would buy him some time, and perhaps he could think of a better plan later.

Sachiko was driving as fast as she could, tears streaming down her face as she pushed the limits of her vehicle's speed. She couldn't believe that everyone was dead, including Kazu, the man she had a crush on. He had stayed behind to buy time for her, a heroic act that she would always remember.

She was beyond the slums now, nearing Yokohama, where her friend lived.

She had lost everything.

She didn't know what to do or where to go, but her friend's house seemed like the only option.

After a while Sachiko finally arrived at her friend's house in the Chinatown area of Yokohama. She parked her truck in a nearby alley and made her way deeper into it. Sachiko walked down the narrow alleyway, her footsteps echoing on the wet pavement. The narrow valley was small, squeezed between two medium-rise buildings that mostly housed apartments. She climbed up a flight of stairs and reached a smaller apartment floor with around eight doors. Without hesitation, she walked over to the first door, numbered 101, and knocked loudly.

"Please be home," she whispered to herself as she waited. Anxiety rose within her as she wondered if her friend was even there. It was possible that she was out doing something or simply not home. But she had nowhere else to go.

Just as she prepared to knock again, the door creaked open, and her friend peeked out. "Sachiko?" He asked, his voice filled with surprise. The person who said that was Yamada sato.

Yamada was a young Police Officer in training and was 25 years old. She stood at an impressive height of 5'10"(which was a bit tall according to Japanese standards) and was a bit muscular, likely due to her regular exercise routine. She was a woman with pale skin, long purple-dyed hair which stopped just above her stomach, and purple lenses to match. On this particular day, she was wearing a black crop top shirt with a glitching heart design, revealing her midriff and showing off her pierced navel. The rest of her outfit completed the look, with the addition of black stockings that reached up to her upper thighs and a pair of black panties.

Yamada opened the door wider and gestured for Sachiko to come inside. "Sachiko, what are you doing here?" She inquired, her voice laden with concern as she stepped aside to allow her friend to enter. Sachiko didn't even bother with a greeting. She pushed past Yamada and collapsed onto the couch, her body trembling with a mix of fear and sadness. Yamada was taken aback by her friend's sudden arrival and state, but she quickly composed herself. She closed the door firmly behind Sachiko and approached the distraught girl cautiously.

Yamada nodded, "Of course, come in. Tell me what happened." She led the way into her cozy little apartment, motioning for Sachiko to sit down.

Yamada's apartment was a quaint one-bedroom space, modest in size. There was a small kitchen, a compact bathroom and a living room which was modest in size, with a worn-out couch positioned at its center. Facing an ancient 60-inch TV from around 2070 which was very outdated by modern standards. The atmosphere was warm, thanks to the integrated heating system, and the walls were adorned with projections of three-dimensional animated portraits. It looked quite tidy on the surface however, the mess on the floor told a different story. Clothes were scattered haphazardly across the room, and empty packets of various instant-cook foods and canned drinks littered the floor.

Sachiko followed her inside and perched herself on the edge of a couch. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to recount the harrowing events of the night. "It's...it's bad, Yamada," she began, her voice shaky. "The mission went wrong...really wrong."

As Sachiko was about to speak, Yamada rose from her seat and strode into the kitchen area, returning with two chilled cans of beer in her hands. She handed one to Sachiko. "It will help calm your nerves, girly." She said reassuringly. "Drink up." Sachiko accepted the can gratefully. The condensation from it chilling her fingers. She took a sip, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat. The slight buzz she felt from the alcohol did seem to settle her nerves a bit. "Now," Yamada said, sitting down next to her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Tell me what happened. Let it all out."

Sachiko nodded, taking another deep breath to steady herself. With Yamada supporting her, she recounted to her the events of the night, sparing no detail. She told her about the mission, the attack, the monster who killed them all, how it could shapeshift, the deaths of all her friends, and finally, the sacrifice Kazu had made to ensure she could escape.

When she finishes, she was in tears again. Her entire body trembling. Yamada put an arm around her, pulling her in close for a hug. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I know...i should say this..but are you sure it happened....Also you were in a mercenary group? Why didn't you tell me!"

Sachiko nodded weakly, leaning into Yamada's embrace. "Yeah," she said miserably. "It really happened. And...and yes, I was in a mercenary group. I never told you because...well, it's kinda dangerous, you know? I never wanted to put you in harm's way too."

"I'm a police officer in training for god's sake."

Sachiko hiccupped, feeling the exhaustion start to seep in. She was right—Yamada's job was arguably as dangerous, but her's was more risky. "Yeah, I know," she murmured. "But still, I just...I didn't want you to worry, or get involved in any way."

Yamada stroked her hair soothingly. "It's okay, Sachiko," she reassured her. "You're safe now."

Yamada then withdrew a gun she kept hidden within the couch cushions. She waved it threateningly, her face hardened, as if daring anyone to mess with her or Sachiko.

Sachiko looked up at Yamada, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Is that your way of making me feel safe?"

Yamada shrugged, putting the gun away and laughing along with her. "What can I say? I take my home security very seriously, especially when a lady as pretty as myself is living alone."

"Yeah, yeah, i get it, you're a total babe. Now give me another beer, I'm gonna need it to get through this night." Yamada chuckled, getting up from her seat to fetch another couple of cans from the fridge. She returned with them, handing one to Sachiko. "Now..don't feel bad but..it's really hard to belive your story..how can a..monster like that exist.."

Sachiko took a large swig of beer, wincing at the taste. "I know it sounds crazy," she sighed. "But I swear it's the truth. I saw that thing myself, with my own eyes. It was around 6ft tall. It could shapeshift, into a human too." She shuddered as the memories flashed back into her mind.

She took another gulp of beer, her hand trembling slightly. "It was...terrifying...and strong...and super fast..Kazu was driving our truck at...140km/h..which was its top speed..and it somehow still managed to catch up to us."

"It killed everyone so easily!" She burst out, slamming the can down on the table next to her spilling all the beer. "A few bullets weren't even scratching it!"

"And that smell!" Sachiko continued, her voice wavering. "It was like decay..blood...rot! It's still in my nose..." She shook her head, trying to clear the odour's memory from her senses. "Ugh! I can't take it...I feel sick...," She buried her face in her hands.

Just then Sachiko felt a sharp pain in her neck, followed by a faint prickling sensation that spread throughout her body. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of a small syringe in Yamada's hand. Before she could say anything, her vision blurred and darkness engulfed her, pulling her into unconsciousness.

"What..?" was all she managed to mutter before succumbing to the drug's effects.

She slumped forward slightly, her body limp as a rag doll. Yamada caught her, preventing her from falling off the couch. What Yamada had just injected was a strong anaesthetic that was usually used for dental procedures into Sachiko's bloodstream, rendering her unconscious in a matter of seconds. She then picked up Sachiko's unconscious form, draping her over her shoulder, and carried her to her bedroom, laying her gently on her bed.

Yamada sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to the unconscious form of Sachiko. Yamada watched as her friend slept, her expression softening. Sure, she hated the fact that she had to drug her like this, but she had no choice. She needed to understand the situation and see what really happened.

Yamada then quickly connected a long, thin cable from her computer to Sachiko's neuro-jack port which was in her nape. The connection was made with a soft beep, and the computer screen flickered to life as data flooded the display. This was a process called neuro-hack. It allowed Yamada to access to Sachiko's neurochip and neural pathways so that she could review past events.

Yamada knew everything about hacking because of her late uncle. He was a cyber criminal...but she didn't approve of it. However, his knowledge often came in handy. In fact, she learnt it mostly from him, visiting him every now and then, watching his actions while he taught her about it when she was in her early 20s. Unfortunately, that skill ended up being his undoing.

He had hacked into a major megacorp employee's neurochip and managed to infiltrate their network. But somewhere along the line, he was traced and his location was discovered by the megacorp. Desperate to avoid capture, he had opened fire on his assailants. Caught in the exchange, he was killed by their return fire. After her uncle's untimely demise, she eventually inherited his equipment and apartment, which she had converted into her cozy hideout.

This was a memory...best forgotten.