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A MAJESTIC TRANSITION

The night was shrouded in an eerie stillness, broken only by the stealthy movements of two figures clad in black as they crept through the twisting, labyrinthine alleys. Every step was taken with extreme caution, their senses honed to detect any signs of danger. The stakes were high, for 23 and 95 were about to betray their own organization, and the slightest mistake could lead to their undoing.

As they advanced, 23 produced a map of the city, his sharp eyes scanning its contents for clues as to the location of the coveted coffin. Even for a seasoned professional like him, the decision of where to commence the search was an intimidating one. The tension in the air was electric, for time was of the essence and they had to act quickly before their foes could catch up with them.

"Report, 23. Time is running out," urged 95 with an urgency that echoed through the desolate room.

But 23's response was a heavy exhale, a manifestation of his frustration and disappointment. "Do you remember the events broadcasted earlier today?" he inquired; his tone wrought with hope for a sliver of recognition in 95's eyes.

95 scrunched his forehead, sifting through his mind for any recollection of the event. Yet, his memory failed him, and he shrugged in defeat.

Wordlessly, 23 retrieved his tablet and activated the footage. The newscaster's voice boomed through the speakers, her timbre rattled and hysterical. The screen exhibited a series of colossal explosions, like none caused by conventional explosives. These were unique, ignited by a ghastly blue blaze that implied the intervention of an extra-terrestrial power. It was an occurrence that induced dread in even the most weathered veterans.

The news reporter's voice boomed through the air, her words carrying a sense of bewilderment and disbelief. "The explosion was triggered by a meteorite-like object that plummeted from the heavens, obliterating the building in its path. Astonishingly, there were no fatalities or injuries reported among the civilians in the vicinity. But what's even more perplexing is the blue flames that engulfed the wreckage, emitting no smoke."

95 stood in stunned silence, struggling to comprehend the bizarre events that had unfolded. "Blue fire and no casualties? I don't know which is more mind-boggling," he muttered in disbelief.

"Wait, there's more," 23 interjected, thrusting the tablet towards 95. "Look at this footage closely. The flames aren't just harmless; they seem to be revitalizing the debris and even the people around them."

As the screen displayed the extraordinary sight of the blue flames restoring the surrounding environment, a sense of awe and wonderment filled the air. It was a phenomenon that defied all logic and understanding, yet there it was, right before their very eyes.

95 squinted his eyes, attempting to discern the exact location that 23 was gesturing towards. As he gazed upon the scene, an uncanny sensation washed over him, as if the flames were somehow imbued with an otherworldly power that defied all explanation. He noticed with amazement that the withered plants and flowers in the area were being miraculously rejuvenated, their vibrant hues and lush greenery restored to their former glory.

"This is madness! What kind of sorcery is this?" 95 exclaimed in disbelief, his mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre and wondrous sight before him.

"Exactly. And that's why we're heading to the Woben Complex, or what's left of it," 23 replied with a determined glint in his eye, his tone serious and purposeful.

95 nodded in agreement, his resolve steeling as he prepared himself for the perilous task ahead. If there was any chance of uncovering the truth behind this enigmatic phenomenon, they would need to tread carefully and navigate the treacherous terrain with utmost caution.

As they neared the Woben complex in the north, 23 and 95 began to feel a strange shift in the atmosphere. Their senses were heightened, and they felt as though a weight was being lifted off their shoulders. As they approached the building, they could sense a healing power emanating from within, restoring not only their physical energy but their emotional well-being as well. The sick and injured plants and animals around them seemed to be healing too, as if by magic.

As they entered the complex, they were struck by the sight of a gleaming white coffin with a golden outline. In the moonlight, it glowed like a precious treasure, casting a golden aura on everything around it. As they approached, they felt a powerful sense of hope and peace, as if all their troubles were melting away.

But as 23 examined the coffin more closely, he saw something that chilled him to the bone: a fancy Algerian script that read "FINALITY." What did it mean? Who was this mysterious figure lying in the coffin?

95's eyes widened as he realized the magnitude of the task at hand. "Moving this coffin won't be easy. Do you have a plan?" he asked 23.

"I know a place nearby where we can hide it. There's an abandoned dock to the south with empty warehouses. It's unlikely anyone will stumble upon it there," replied 23.

"Alright, let's move it. But we need some help," said 95.

"I brought a few humans with me. They will assist us in moving the coffin," replied 23.

Together, they signalled the team to approach. The trained professionals, equipped with heavy-duty equipment, began to lift the coffin, careful not to damage it.

As they moved toward the abandoned dock, 23 couldn't help but glance at the coffin every few seconds. He felt a sense of unease and wondered what kind of power lay inside.

"We're almost there," said 95, breaking the silence.

As they trekked through the desolate streets towards the docks, 23 cast a brief glance at his partner, 95. He couldn't help but wonder about life after this tumultuous mission. "When this is all over," he began, "we can finally be free. Have you thought about what you'll do then, 95?"

Looking up at the starry night sky, 95 mused, "Starting a family would be the first thing on my list. I've always longed to experience the joys of being a husband and a father. And rest assured, I'll be the best dad there ever was. Unlike you, 23, who always wears a perpetual scowl on his face."

23 couldn't argue with that. He wished he had some grand plans after this dangerous game of cat and mouse was over, but he simply couldn't see past the finish line.

Suddenly, 95's hushed voice broke the silence. "Stop, 23! There's trouble ahead."

Peering ahead, 23 spotted a raucous group of hooligans partying in the streets. Intoxicated and brandishing deadly weapons, they were the epitome of danger. Without a word, 23 motioned for 95 to flank the group while he hung back to join him later in the safety of the nearest warehouse.

As they moved closer to the docks, 23's trained senses alerted him of impending danger. He quickly scanned the area and spotted a group of rowdy hooligans, revelling in their drunken stupor while wielding an arsenal of deadly weapons. Turning to his partner, he barked a command in a hushed tone," 95, move to their flank and head to the nearest warehouse. I'll catch up with you later. This is about to get ugly."

As soon as 95 was out of sight, 23 swiftly made his way towards the camp, his eyes narrowing as he mentally prepared himself for the impending battle. The prospect of shedding blood after such a long time filled him with a sense of anticipation that he could not deny.

Despite being a low-grade fighter, 23 was no pushover. He possessed a set of battle instincts that were honed through years of experience on the field. His genetic modifications had also endowed him with superior durability and agility, making him a formidable opponent in close-range combat.

As the hooligans fired their weapons in a desperate attempt to defend themselves, 23 deftly dodged their shots, closing the distance between them with lightning-fast speed. With a heavy hand, he unleashed a flurry of attacks that left his foes screaming in agony.

The air was thick with the smell of burning flesh and the sound of tortured cries as 23 exacted his revenge with the utmost brutality. When the last of the hooligans lay dead at his feet, 23 rose, wiping the blood from his face with a grim determination.

As a smirk played on his lips, 23 took a moment to bask in the aftermath of the recent bloodbath. The encounter had served as an excellent warm-up for the highly trained warrior, leaving him feeling invigorated and eager for more action. Despite his initial low estimation of his adversaries, they had proven to be formidable foes, providing him with an entertaining challenge. With the mission still in progress, 23 pushed forward towards the next objective, guided by the coordinates relayed to him by his partner 95. Despite the day's twists and turns, 23 remained confident that the ultimate pay out would make it all worthwhile.

Finally, 23 joined the group as they arrived at the abandoned dock. The team carefully placed the coffin in one of the empty warehouses, and 23 breathed a sigh of relief.

"For now, it's safe. But we need to figure out what to do with it next," said 23.

"Agreed. We'll need to keep a close eye on it and make sure no one finds out," replied 95.

23 entered the abandoned warehouse, kicking up dust as he closed the door behind him. 95, his partner, was waiting for him, slouched against the wall.

"Dude, you are all messed up!" 95 exclaimed as he saw 23's bloodied appearance. "We need to get you cleaned up and find some fresh clothes."

As they talked, 95's communicator suddenly began vibrating wildly, causing 95 to pale with fear.

"What's the matter?" 23 asked, noticing his partner's distress.

"It's the upper-grade fighters," 95 stammered. "They're coming to Tokyo tomorrow. If we don't do something soon, we're done for."

"What's the team's composition?" 23 asked, his mind already racing with possible strategies.

After checking his tablet, 95 replied, "Hashira 41, Meryl 76, and Roman 2. They are B and A class combatants and we're D-class combatants. It's a suicide mission if we fight them head-on."

Despite the daunting challenge, 23 remained determined. "We'll prolong this mission as much as possible," he declared. "We can't afford to die now. We must stay focused on our goal."

As they discussed their plan, the glow of the coffin they had been tasked with retrieving cast a gentle light on the two friends, giving them hope and renewed determination.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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