"Stop! Stop that thief!" A woman yelled as she ran out of a small grocery store, one cell phone in hand already calling 9/11. Onlookers watched as a hooded man sprinted down the street, a bag of bills and various goods clutched tightly to his chest, a knife being jammed quickly into his pocket in an action borne from years of practice.

Sirens rang out into the night, and the Thief ducked into a pitch black alley, praying for the police car to pass him by, but his luck proved poor. The car parked at the entrance of the alley, the cops quickly exiting and pulling out guns, and the Thief cursed, looking for a way out. He saw a nearby fire escape, using his parkour to run a bit up the wall to grip onto the edge, pulling himself up. The bag of stolen goods nearly fell, but he managed to catch it with his fingertips, quickly rescuing it.

"Stop right there!" The cops demanded, shining a flashlight at him. The Thief, of course, didn't listen, quickly making his way up the fire escape until he eventually reached the roof, falling to his knees as he took a well earned break. The sound of footsteps came from the stairwell, and he jumped back to his feet, looking for yet another escape, as the footsteps came ever closer.

"Shit..." He cursed, as the door to the roof kicked open, a cop pointing a gun at him. The Thief made a leap of faith to the building next door, certain he could reach it; but he underestimated the distance between them, and just how tired he would be from the chase.

The shock on his face as he realized he wasn't going to make it stayed when he crashed to the ground below.

At the same time at a far different location, a young man was sitting by himself and playing some Playstation. Killing Zombies, chilling out, just hanging out-a perfect way to spend the night. The rest of his family had gone off to a party, but he had stayed behind, claiming to have a cold. As if.

A knock at the door stirred him out of his thoughts; who would be knocking at this hour? He paused the game and walked to the door, opening it with a confused expression, which practically doubled when he saw someone he never thought to see again.

"Sarah?" He said bewildered, having genuinely never expected a moment like this to happen. He hadn't seen her in nearly three years; they dated a little, back in high school, but things didn't really work out between them before she moved to another town. Last he had heard, she had gotten married to a doctor, or something.

"...Hey. Do you mind if I come in?" She asked, and the man could feel...something was off with her, but he still let her in. Things were good, back when they were together, and he still looked back on them fondly. He moved aside and went to the couch, sitting down and motioning for her to sit across from him. She sat down with a smile of appreciation.

Figuring that there was no use beating around the bush, he decided to just go out and ask. "What are you doing here? Does...Derrick, know you're here?" He asked her, hoping he got the name correct. She stared at him, nearly two minutes straight, until he coughed to bring her back to reality. She shook her head, as though waking from a daze.

"It's Derren." She snapped, not wanting to speak his name, but her features softened almost immediately. "Truthfully...I just wanted to see you. I missed you, ya know."

Had she said these words even a year ago, the man would have been ecstatic; but as of now, he just felt...kinda empty. "What we had was nice...but it's late. We can catch up over a coffee, or something, not in my living room at..." He took a quick glance at a nearby clock. "Ten after midnight. Why are you here so late?"

She smiled at him, standing up and pulling her shirt over her head, exposing her bra. "I told you. I wanted to see you...and I wanted you to see me, too." She walked over to him, step by step, and the man struggled with a moral dilemma; could he sleep with his ex, even knowing she was married?

"No." He whispered, standing up. He turned his back on her, to no longer be tempted by her body, and he spoke louder. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I won't tell your husband."

"...do you really think you're better than me?"

He turned around at this, seeing her standing there with a gun in her hand. His heart raced as things took a downward spiral.

"Sarah, put the gun down."

"I wanted to stay in contact, you know."

"Sarah."

"But you never messaged me or anything, not even once."

"Sarah, that was three years ago. We broke up months before that."

"Did you not love me? Was I just a fucking fling or some shit?!" She yelled, pointing the gun at him. The man stumbled back, hoping to put distance between him and the crazed woman, but his back was pressed against the wall.

"Sarah, please, you need to think about this. I cared about you, but you're with Derren now. We're not the same people we were back then."

She stood there, silent, and the man caught a glance at her eyes. Empty, as though she wasn't really there...as though she wouldn't listen to reason.

"Sarah...please."

"...We'll have all the time we need to change ourselves...in the next life."

The man's eyes widened as the meaning of the words hit him. The gun fired, once, twice, and the man collapsed to the floor. Another shot rang out, and the man could hear something hitting the floor, barely piercing together it was likely his killer taking her own life.

He tried to crawl against the floor, desperate to reach a phone, but he couldn't raise an arm. His vision was getting blurrier by the second, until everything went black.

"Hey, watch where you're driving, dumbass!"

A young man is walking across the street, just barely managing to leap out of the way of a driver who was driving on the wrong side of the road. He cursed at them as they kept driving, knowing it was likely a lost cause; if they didn't even know what side of the road to drive on in Hawaii, they probably wouldn't understand English.

"Calm down. They're not gonna learn how to drive just from some high schooler yelling at them." His girlfriend pointed out, sitting down on the stone wall to watch the waves. She patted the spot next to her, smiling gently at him and clearly motioning for him to sit.

"We shouldn't stay here long," he said, taking a seat. "We should head home quickly or we might get attacked by the scourge of Hawaii….Micheal Reeves." he finished.

"Yeah he might trick us into taking a picture and shock us with his taser camera." His girlfriend laughed, leaning her head up against his shoulder. The two sat staring at the waves, and the young man couldn't feel more...content. Things were going well, and he wished the moment could last forever.

But when he heard his girlfriend's stomach growl, he got up and stretched lightly. "Stay here. I'll go grab us a bite to eat." His girlfriend smiled and kissed him, and he grinned in joy.

He went back to the crosswalk, looked both ways, and began walking...

"Hey kid! Watch out!"

He turned his head, just in time to a car of tourists driving the wrong way, seconds before the car hit him straight on. He bounced from the sheer force of the impact, idly noting he probably wouldn't be able to get that bite to eat after all, just before his head hit the road and cracked his skull wide open.

"Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars"

A man stared listlessly around a trashed room, casting his gaze from wall to wall. He took a few steps forward, ignoring the crunch of wrappers and broken glass beneath his feet, and crashed down on a poorly made bed, which creaked beneath him. He stared up at the ceiling, and the hook hanging from it, as the music kept playing.

"Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars"

Thoughts swirled in his head; bad thoughts. He felt angry, and hurt, and confused. He wanted to lash out, and he wanted to be alone. Too many contradictions-he was going insane, at this rate, and no one cared, because no one ever cared.

"In other words: hold my hand

In other words: baby, kiss me"

His stomach hurt. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything hurt. It was a pain that existed his entire life; when things got too much for him, and his body hurt itself as a punishment. He thought of crying, but he hadn't cried in years. Sometimes he thinks he can't, anymore. Nothing could push him hard enough to actually do it.

"Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore"

He leans back up, staring at his hand, and idly wonders what the point of it all was. Why did he exist? What was the point of life, this monotonous routine that only served to cause him pain?

"In other words: please, be true

In other words: I love you"

He got up fully at this point, his mind unwillingly dredging up memories best left forgotten. Taunts and jeers, all of his failings. Why did he ever think anyone cared? Why did he ever think he deserved to live? He reached out his hand, grabbing a bottle of whiskey, and drank straight from the bottle. It barely fazed him any more. If anyone had told him he would be an alcoholic at such a young age, he would have laughed in their face. But look at him now, a failure, someone who can only convince himself to keep living by looking into a fucking bottle. Even that wasn't enough, now.

"Fill my heart with song

Let me sing for ever more"

He walked over to his closet, pulling out an item he had poured his soul into making. A frayed noose, made of good rope; he didn't want to risk it breaking, as it would be his escape from this accursed life. A life where mediocrity was the norm. A life where his choices, the only ones that mattered, had been made long ago. A life where there were no second chances. He briefly wondered if he would go to Hell; he believed in it, after all, and yet the thought of Eternal Damnation didn't scare him. At least then...he could feel something. Anything other than this pit he had fallen in.

"You are all I long for

All I worship and adore"

He attached the noose securely to the hook, testing its weight briefly. Seeing that it would hold, he pulled up a small chair and stood atop it, placing the noose in front of his face. He almost thought he could see paradise, just through the noose, but he snorted in response. In all likelihood, it was a final temptation by the Devil, wishing to cart him to Hell. He almost laughed, almost, but he still found that he couldn't. Didn't they realize? He needed no temptations, not when he was already this far.

He glanced over at his phone; should he send a message? Let people know what he was planning? But no-if they knew, they might stop him. He couldn't let that happen. His thoughts strayed, just that little further, to the online group he had once been a part of. Surely, he could leave them a message..?

No. He left in order not to burden them with his troubles in the first place. He wouldn't break now. He placed his head fully through the noose, smiling ever so briefly, then kicked the chair out from underneath him. The rope suddenly went taut, and he felt something snap in his neck. His breathing stopped completely, but he tried to force his body to stop struggling. He had already accepted his death.

His vision went black, and his struggles ceased.

"In other words: please, be true

In other words, in other words: I love you..."

Across the ocean, a secret meeting was taking place in a warehouse. Three men were unloading several inconspicuous brown packages from the back of a truck, while another man was smoking a cigarette off to the side, watching them work.

"You gonna help us out here, fucker?" One of the men called to the smoker, who just raised an eyebrow in amusement. The smoker just took another drag of his cigarette, staring the man in the eye, until one of the other workers harshly elbowed the first man in the gut.

"Don't piss him off, idiot!"

The first man finally dropped his gaze and went back to work.

Eventually, the three men were done. The smoker dropped his cigarette, stepped on it, then slowly began walking amongst the packages, inspecting them carefully. The three men helpfully chimed in as to the packages contents, on how pure it was, but the smoker merely hummed in response, clearly barely paying any attention to them.

"And this is all of it?" The smoker finally asked, standing back up.

"Yea. It's all there, we wouldn't try to cheat you." One of the men said. The smoker glanced at him, before turning back to eyeing the packages.

"Wouldn't try to cheat me, eh..." He whispered, before chuckling. The three men shifted uncomfortably. The smoker turned back to look at them, smiled, then clapped his hands twice.

Three shots rang out, and the three workers fell.

One of the men was still alive, screaming in pain as he clutched the wound on his neck. The smoker sighed, brought out a small handgun, and walked forward. The man could barely speak from the wound, but kept moving his lips as though he were attempting to ask questions.

The smoker pointed his handgun at the man, as more men came out from the corners of his vision, each of whom were holding rifles. The smoker smiled, gesturing to them as though they were all actors in a play. "We had this planned out." He helpfully explained to the man convulsing on the ground. "We knew you guys were stealing from us for quite a while now. A shame. You could have gone far, had you shown just the tiniest amount of loyalty."

He shifted a little, to put another cigarette in his mouth. One of the riflemen rushed up with a lighter, lighting the cigarette, and the smoker inclined his head in thanks. He breathed deep, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and sighed again. "Well...no helping it now." Pointing his gun once more at the man, pulled the trigger. The man's head bounced off the ground in a spray of blood.

"Sometimes I really hate this business..." He whispered, placing the gun back in his pocket. His cigarette was almost all ash, now. Motioning his hand towards the drugs, he walked back to lean against one of the walls. "Start loading it back up."

Silence.

He looked at the riflemen, some of whom still had their guns out. "Have you gone deaf? Start loading the damn drugs up! I'd like to get out of her sooner rather than later, I got shit to do."

One of the riflemen, looking to his fellows, stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Mr. Gonzelmo will no longer be requiring your services."

"What?"

"He thanks you for your hard work, and hopes you understand this is just how business is done."

The smoker rushed to pull out his handgun, but was too slow; the bullets entered him from all angles, giving him no chance of escape. As his body hit the floor, one of the men took a picture, sent it, then left.

It was always just business.

A flash of light, harsh winds, and intense pressure. Five souls veered off course.

In another world, in five separate locations, five pairs of eyes all opened at once, and five bodies drew breath.

"Where am I?"

MODOSU GA DISCORD

AN: Welcome to something I'm very excited about. I've been working closely with some other users of the Akame Ga Kill Discord, and together we bring you a group Isekai fic. A slow beginning, to be sure, but expect things to kick off drastically next chapter!

Credits to Pergy, ph0enix17, Dragon78591, Bludmaster, and Davin111. Be sure to check out Dragon78591's fanfiction account over at Andrew78591.