A week passed in the blink of an eye. For Ethan, ti had taken on a different texture. He spent nearly every hour within the Soul Sanctuary, a ntal training ground where Crul simulated hundreds of combat scenarios.
He had co to a grim realization: his old techniques were becoming obsolete. While his lightning and gravity manipulation could terrorize the inhabitants of this world, they would be little more than static to the Outsiders. He needed to be more than a powerhouse; he needed to be a ghost, a blade, a master of the Void.
"Again," Ethan grunted, his phantom form in the sanctuary dodging a flurry of crystalline projectiles from a simulated high-tier combatant.
[Master, your reaction ti has improved by 14%,] Crul reported, her voice steady as she adjusted the simulation’s difficulty. [But rember, against an Outsider, flexibility is your only shield. Your dagger and your Athyst Body are the only things that truly matter.]
While Ethan honed his lethality, the world outside was unraveling for a woman who thought she held a God on a leash.
In California, Lucas’s life had shattered in a single afternoon. He sat on his bed, staring at the floor with hollow eyes. Just days ago, he was a rising star in the Royal hierarchy, a man with a future. Now, he was a pariah.
"I didn’t do it..." he whispered to the empty room. "I didn’t steal the Nectar. I didn’t sell the technology. It’s a setup!"
He had laughed when the first audit report ca in, thinking it was a clerical error. But then the security teams arrived. They had found the stolen data drives and vials of Sacred Worm Nectar—the most precious substance in the Royal arsenal—hidden in his own safe.
He grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed his mother for the tenth ti that hour.
"Mom! You have to talk to him!" Lucas scread into the receiver as soon as Helen picked up. "The police... Royal’s internal security... they’re going to kill ! They think I betrayed Etienne! You have to fix this!"
In her luxury penthouse, Helen was a ghost of her forr self. The vanity she had cultivated for months had been replaced by a jagged, sharp-edged paranoia. She clutched her phone so hard her knuckles were white.
"I’m trying, Lucas! I’m trying!" she wailed, her voice cracking.
She opened the chat window with Etienne. It was a long, one-sided stream of desperation.
Helen (7 days ago): My love, there’s been a mistake with Lucas. Soone is trying to hurt us. Please call back. I have sothing special to show you tonight.
Helen (5 days ago): Etienne? Please, I’m scared. The guards outside the apartnt... they’re looking at differently. I haven’t heard from you. I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just tell you’re there.
Helen (Today): Please! I’m begging you! My son is innocent! They’re going to take him away! Etienne, look at ! I’m on my knees! Don’t abandon !
She stared at the screen. Read. The ssage had been read, but there was no reply. The silence was more deafening than any threat.
"He thinks I betrayed him," Helen whispered, her eyes darting to the shadows of the room. "He thinks I was in on it. He’s going to let them kill my son to punish ."
Every ti she looked out her window, she saw black SUVs parked across the street. Every ti she walked into a store, the clerks seed to be whispering into their headsets. What she once perceived as the flattering protection of a powerful lover now felt like the tightening noose of an executioner.
"He knows," she whimpered, collapsing onto her plush velvet sofa. "He knows everything. Oh God, Etienne, please... I’ll be your slave, I’ll be your dog, just don’t leave in the dark!"
Back at Royal HQ, Ethan watched the feed of Helen’s breakdown with a look of cold indifference.
[She’s ripe, Crul,] Ethan said, leaning back in his chair. [The paranoia has taken root. She doesn’t just fear the law now—she fears as if I were the boogeyman under her bed]
[She is calling the private line again, Master] Crul noted. [Shall I continue the silence?]
"No," Ethan smiled, a sharp, predatory expression. "The fruit is about to drop. Send her a single location. Tell her if she wants to save her son, she has to co to Royal HQ. Alone. And tell her... to wear sothing ’appropriate’ for a beggar."
[ssage sent, Master] Crul’s voice crackled with a static-like glee. [She received the location and the dress code. She is currently scouring her closet in a state of hysterical frenzy. Now, what are your instructions regarding Lucas?]
Ethan leaned back, his eyes glowing with a cold, athyst light. "Bring him here imdiately. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t facilitate a proper family reunion? And while you’re at it, bring Vincent from Black Rock."
[Vincent is still under heavy guard, Master. His ntal state is... fragile.]
"Even better," Ethan smiled, a sharp, jagged expression that promised no rcy. "File the official reports now. I want the record to show that Vincent died today while attempting a violent prison break. Tell the warden to report that he was shot multiple tis and killed on site. To the world, he is a ghost. To , he is just the first guest of the evening."
Ethan stood up, pacing the length of his office as the gears of his vengeance turned. "Let’s add so seasoning to this desperation. Crul, leak the ’evidence’ of Lucas’s embezzlent and the nectar theft to every major news outlet. I want his face on every screen in the country. Make sure Helen sees it. I want her to believe that her son’s execution is only hours away."
[Data packets have been released. The dia is already descending like vultures. The news cycle is yours, Master.]
As Ethan erupted into a dark, echoing laugh, the machinery of Royal went into overdrive. In two different cities, elite extraction teams moved.
In California, a blacked-out transport van screeched to a halt in front of Lucas’s residence. In the cold cells of Black Rock, a set of heavy steel doors opened for a man who officially no longer existed.
The stage was set. The puppets were in transit. And the Master was finally ready to raise the curtain on his masterpiece.
User Comments
0 comments from readers