Zanthvos sighed and flopped onto his bed, tired and melancholy after calming Micah enough so she would fall asleep. His sombre mood was not due to her, of course, but more due to the obvious lies that had been spun to her by everyone else. But that was how things were done now, it seemed.

It had only been three years since Deus Ex had fallen and the four clans had taken over the human world. The clans had come up with the most brilliant plan of exposing the hunters and all their kidnappings to the general populace, and rallying halloween to their cause they stormed the portals and overwhelmed them with sheer force and power. And once they had taken the island for their own, they continued onwards towards the human cities, their FEAR increasing exponentially until nothing could stop them. Then the rest of halloween moved into where the humans had occupied, and with the help of the horsemen they had virtually enslaved the human race.

Lifting his hand to the ceiling, he inspected his sharpened nails and each little line that went across his palm, intrigued by the patterns they formed. Weird how he took notice of such things, but that would be expected when you had just been reintroduced to your old body. He could still remember being a weapon like it was yesterday.

He could remember him like it was yesterday.

Just how his hunter had survived the downfall for as long as he did Zanth could hardly wager a guess, even being witness to the whole thing. But in the end even they could not escape their fate. Jason Kenneth, Moon intermediate trainee, the guy who was scared of everything, had been...

Zanthvos grimaced at the unwanted memories. recalling that dreadful event through Jason's eyes. He had been captured, locked in some halloween cell just like everyone else. The four clans were keen to keep the hunters alive as long as possible so as to extract all the vengeance they could. He was sure though that once they grew tired the horsemen would finish them off.

But this time it was different. No sooner had been locked up had a cloaked figure approached them. A good thing too, as humans were not adapt at surviving for long periods in halloween. At first they thought he was going to torture them for information but instead he just grasped the bars, the hood falling to reveal a older looking man with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Please...give me back my son."

It was surreal, the moment Zanth realized this person was his father. He had no memories of his prior life, which as to be expected as a weapon lost all their memories in the process. But he couldn't deny the family resemblance. Jet black wings, black horns, the blood red eyes staring at the hunter with profound hope. He began babbling about things. Research, reversal. Back to normal. A sister who missed him. A mother who wept for their lost son.

The hunter stood there, stunned into silence. A noise down the corridor alerted them to someone else coming. Most likely for them. The demons hands shook on the bars as he begged Jason to let Zanthvos go.


Of course Jason would listen to the man. He always was a softy at heart. A shaky hand grasped the pendant at his chest, and with a hurried movements he gave it to the demon. Zanth had said nothing up until this point, having been too shocked to speak himself. But now he shouted and screamed for Jason to stop, to not let him go. But it was too late, no time left. The demon was running down the hallway as more guards came for the hunter.

The last thing he could remember clearly was the sight of his father running, Jason lifting a hand to the retreating form, feeling the hunter bear a warm but sad smile.

What came next was just a blur. Visions of healers standing over him, a strange magical circle. Pain, of course there was pain. Physical, mental, emotional. His body was pushed to it's limits as his core was forced to reshape into it's original form. He felt like he would break under the pressure but somehow he didn't, and when the pain stopped he awoke in a cot, the faces of his family hovering above him.

It took a few months for him to recover. His core needed to stabilize, so it was important he rest up and not do anything until he was at full health. But as he laid in that cot, every time someone came near he would ask them.

Where was he. Where was Jason. What happened to him.

No one would give him a answer.