What used to be White Flower , a radiant artistic city once bursting with color was now a skeleton of its former self. Dull cyber-bricks lined the cracked walls, scraps of fallen digital banners fluttered in the wind, and holograms buzzed with broken light, looping forgotten messages of a kingdom that no longer cared.
A woman's scream pierced the usual silence, shattering the tranquility of the night.
Down an alley cluttered with broken signs and rusted staircases, a group of young misfit boys had cornered her. Her torn dress fluttered in the breeze, a stark reminder of the violence that had befallen her.
She screamed "Please don't do this."
"Thought you could get away from us, didn't you?" one of them sneered, his eyes cold, desperate, and hungry. Another said "We're gonna have some fun with you."
She screamed again raw, helpless, a cry for mercy that echoed through the desolate alley.
Then came a sound like thunder meeting steel, a sudden and violent interruption that cut through the chaos.
THUD!
A massive scythe blade slammed into the concrete between them. Dust shot up in a swirl, silencing everything.
The boys turned slowly.
Their faces melted into fear.
"I-It's her..."
Alias: Moco
Age: 14
Art class: Scytherian
Height: 5'2"
Skin Tone: Ghostly pale
They ran like animals.
The woman gasped for breath. Trembling, she turned her head and saw a pale, ghostly figure in the haze short, messy black hair framing a sharp face, one glowing orange eye staring through her like flame in snow.
The girl didn't speak.
The woman whimpered. "No...not you... not you. The pale-skin monster. Please don't kill me."
Moco blinked. Her eye twitched.
"What the hell?! I just saved you, stupid lady!"
The woman scrambled away like she was escaping death.
Moco stood alone. She clenched her jaw, muttering, "Forget it..." and stormed off into the bleak city streets.
Her stomach growled like thunder. She reached into her gray sweats pocket...
Lint.
Of course.
She passed by a cracked wall where a laundry line hung above rusted trash cans. A few older Zoners sat around a makeshift fire. She approached them timidly.
"Hey... got any food?"
They stared.
One of them sneered. "You still around, ghost freak?"
"Go back to the afterlife, Snow Demon," another growled.
A can hit her shoulder. Then a boot. She hit the ground.
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Laughter echoed.
Another man snickered "I'll give you two loaves of blue bread"
Relief took over Moco "You will? She went to reach for the bread when she heard her scythe growl from inside her spirit.
The man grinned "For a little fun time, I like young girls, they're more healthier, at least that's what the Zoner Alpha bros taught me and I agree with everything they say because I don't respect women and I don't have my own thoughts."
She immediately pulled her hand back and summoned her scythe "You digusting pervert, I'm going to slice you into tiny little pieces and then convert you into food".
The man recoiled, his face a mask of utter dejection at her blunt truth. "Damn you... you really are a white devil." He scrambled away, a pathetic, fearful scurry. Behind him, her scythe began to writhe, twisting and growing, transforming into a monstrous, bone-like creature that lunged after the fleeing figure.
The Zoners, witnessing the horrifying spectacle, scattered in a terrified frenzy, their shouts swallowed by the chaos.She curled into herself, biting her lip, holding back tears but not for long. She fled into a dark alley, found a corner, and sank to her knees.
The moment broke her.
"I hate it here..." she whispered, voice cracking. "I hate my skin. I hate the people. I hate everyone. I just wanna die..."
Then something small tapped her leg.
She looked up.
Her scythe had shifted. Its blade melted down into a chibi-like creature with big stubby arms, tiny black button eyes, and a head shaped like her weapon's blade. It squeaked and hugged her arm, like a plush toy from another world.
She broke into a bitter laugh. "You're the only one that likes me, huh?"
The day dragged on. She kept walking.
Suddenly, shouting.
She reached a plaza where a crowd had gathered. A woman screamed as a Delta Robot dragged her from an old apartment. Her paints spilled everywhere.
"Filthy artist!" one Delta Unit snarled.
The people began to protest. Cans and broken tools flew at the robot. A young boy raised his hand, summoning a paintbrush from his Abi. He roared, firing a beam of artistic aura — vivid color and light.
It struck the robot.
The Delta Robot glitched then fired back.
The boy's head exploded.
Screams. Panic.
The people scattered as the Delta Unit 08 fired lethal rounds into the crowd, injuring dozens.
The robot spoke in its cold, synthetic voice:
"By decree of King Mr. Green, art is forbidden. Resistance is punishable by relocation. Annual Selections will commence in three days. Prepare to be cast to the Surface."
The people sobbed. Some knelt. Some stared in silence. Hope, gone.
Delta Unit 08 set the confiscated art on fire an dthen woman was tossed into a massive cyber-truck. It began to roll out.
But then—
SLICE!
The truck's wheels burst apart. Sparks flew.
The people gasped.
The vehicle flipped on its side, crashing into a rusted streetlamp.
Moco stood in the smoke, her scythe glowing with deadly promise.
She pulled the woman out from the wreckage. "Run. Now."
The woman obeyed.
Delta Unit 08 emerged from the wreck, eyes glowing red.
"You have obstructed justice," it droned. "You are hereby selected. You will be cast to the Surface for punishment—"
Moco scoffed.
She tilted her head. "Oh don't worry, I want to go, there is nothing for me here on this island."
Her orange eye ignited with power.
The scythe glowed in her hand.
Delta Unit 08 lunged.
And in one clean motion, Moco sliced it in half. Sparks flew as it collapsed, twitching.
Its eye flickered.
"Error... error..."
She raised her weapon once more—
SLICE.
The head fell with a final spark.
And Moco stood there, pale, angry, hungry, and alone the monster that had just saved everyone.