The First Halo

She didn't plan for this enough.

The roads had been torn apart; pools of magma generated by the friction under the feet of a demon moving at speeds hundreds of times faster than sound. Buildings and infrastructure shattered as a side effect of two beings that simply didn't belong in such a fragile world. Shards of glass were scattered about sporadically, and two streaks of blood trailed off behind her from the corpse suspended on her fingertips. It looked like a man. It felt like a man. And it acted like a man, but these were nothing more than the traits that allowed this creature to walk among men. Upon the arrival of its end, the angel presented its wings to her and revealed itself; wings that had been torn from its back and cast aside, resting at the other ends of the two trails of blood.

Despite all of the chaos, the citizens of Covington, Louisianna made no efforts to run away from the danger... at least not most of them.

You see, even after learning how to control herself and spending years enhancing her neuroplasticity and physical combat skill, Kaija had yet to gain mastery over the powers granted to her by this form maintained by the Devil God: Vandal King. This meant that the waves of madness that spread throughout Fukuoka a little over half a year ago continued to spread through Covington, driving its people mad in much the same manner that they had back then. But, even worse, it alerted the angel to her presence.

Had things gone her way, she would've easily snuck up on her prey and killed it without it ever noticing. But, against her wishes, the force of madness that followed the Oni as it wandered betrayed her and turned a quick, easy assassination into a disaster. He noticed her through her aura alone. Sloppy. Amateurish. Regretful work. It wasn't good enough, especially if she wanted to keep out of the public eye. She wore a mask and a cowl to protect her from the prying eyes of citizens and cameras that might've caught sight of her, but mistakes such as these would draw in heroes and unwanted attention. She needed to get better. She needed more control.

It's not good enough.

She looked up at the corpse before her; an angel wearing corporate casual attire whose worthless divinity had faded and brought with it a calming darkness. Its blood dripped down her arm, the very same color as her own and every other human in the area. She looked around at the chaos as people began to lose their minds, then turned and walked forward to collect the angel's wings. Without uttering a word, she contacted her client for this morning's assassination.

"It's done."

Moments later, a tangible darkness would spread below the executioner's feet and black hands of the very same substance would stretch upwards and latch onto her body; grabbing onto her and wrapping around her form like ropes before dragging her into the darkness and disappearing into nothingness. Regretfully, recordings of the battle would spread through the web like fire for anyone with even an ounce of curiosity to watch. As for any heroes who might's arrived on the scene too late, even a second too late, they would find the roads had been repaired, buildings rebuilt, and anyone who had been killed in the recording, well... their corpse simply disappeared. Despite every physical trace of these events occurring being erased from the world, those who were there would remember. The shrouded executioner was real, more than a simple forged video recording.

A few questions would rise in the minds of curious onlookers. Was the video real? Who could've repaired all of those damages so quickly? What happened to the people who had disappeared? Who was that cloaked figure? What exactly happened in Louisianna? And, most importantly, why had any of this happened in the first place?

This was the first anomaly.