《Rise Of The Crime Lord》


 Chapter 1-The Dilemma

    On this fateful night, Marcus trudged through the forest; every step in this dreaded swamp was a constant reminder of his decision. The trees in the gloomy forest of Nathul were so tall that their branches attempted to block the radiant light from the scarlet and azure moons; they succeeded in that endeavor as the darkness made allies and enemies indistinguishable in its domain.


    He believed the information he had sold contained only names and dates, and it was nothing private that would harm the syndicate. He felt guilty for betraying the syndicate; however, the money would permanently set his beloved Charlotte and Maria up for life. Being summoned to a meeting at midnight sent a sudden and acute dread through his body.


    A tree moved with a flicker, but he dismissed it, his rational mind supplanted by paranoia. With his back to the tree, he made an intercall, giving an anonymous individual a rundown of the situation as it was at the moment.


    After the intercall had ended, Marcus swiped over his Chronos S watch; he noted it was 23:30 with a notification from his wife Maria asking him to be back early the next day. Upon seeing the message, he felt guilt and fear washing over him for involving his family and taking that damning offer. However, he knew he could not turn back time.


    Seeing as his watch showed signs of increased heart rate and cortisol levels, he adjusted his posture and calmed himself to maintain composure.


    A ninth-generation Elysium sports car was parked at the assigned spot next to a circular table with two perfectly arranged chairs. With enough clicking fireflies to light the entire area, the grass field surrounding the chair and sports car was expertly leveled, creating a striking contrast with the rest of the forest.


    A man with a well-defined physique and an athletic suit with black pinstripes sat in deep thought in one of the seats. His hair was so long it had to be tied in a bun to keep it off his back, and his serene smile never wavered. Marcus was shivering because of this, but he pulled himself together and greeted this strange man he had called the boss.


    "Marcus," Leon said, his tone belying its calmness. With a wave of his hands, the well-dressed man motioned for the middle-aged man to sit across from him. Marcus opened his mouth to say something, but the glare of the man in the pinstriped suit made him finally sit down.


    "Good evening, Boss Leon," Marcus said, composed and obediently. Leon was quite dissatisfied by this since he had already rendered his decision.


    "You already know the rules. Beyond death, betrayal has a penalty: erasure. Your friends and family will be no more; there will be no remnants of you." He leaned forward and grinned like a shark under the moon. "That does not have to be the case, though. Tell me who you''re working for, and maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªwe can come to an arrangement."


    "Boss, I have done no such thing," Marcus vehemently denied.


    Leon proceeded to take the gun from the table, used his finger to pop the barrel, inserted the bullet, and began to roll the barrel of the gun, cocking it back into position. "I extended mercy to you, Marcus, and you rejected it." With a sigh, he let out an expression of regret.


    With a hint of murderous intent, Leon remarked, "I will have to pay your dear Charlotte and Maria a visit since they will be expecting you tomorrow, which would not be possible, or what do you think?"


    A cold sweat ran across his back as Marcus mustered every bit of courage to speak. "I beg of you, I didn''t mean to betray you; this matter is between us; please don''t involve them; they are not a part of this," said Marcus in a frightened tone.


    "Innocent? When you pledged to uphold the syndicate''s interests above all else, why would you think for a second that I would let them go when you failed to uphold your promise? Good riddance," Leon angrily roared these words before pointing the gun at Marcus. In a fit of rage and nervousness, Marcus took the gun and shot at Leon.


    Instantly, a strange force twisted Marcus''s arms in an anticlockwise direction, causing the bullet to deviate from its original course. A sigh came from Leon''s mouth before murmuring, "Dogs that bite their master''s hand should be put down."


    At the same time, Marcus silently screamed due to his broken bone poking out of his flesh; Leon turned around, looking towards his shadow before uttering, "Article 5, Page 20 rule has been breached; carry out the necessary punishment."


    A dark silhouette covered from head to toe in a dark cloak instantly emerged from Leon''s shadow, approaching Marcus like a reaper guiding a lost soul to the underworld. With every step, the surrounding grass withered.


    However, Marcus overcame the pain and decided to run for it, understanding that the boss was not supposed to have abilities as he was a negator. This meant that he had specially trained agents at his side at all times, which induced panic as his ability to detect anything present in the 20-meter radius did not alert him.


    As witnessed from the withering grass, there might be more than two agents, one erasing presence and the other with decaying properties. Suddenly, he stopped, observing his surroundings. Yet he did not move forward, fearing an ambush.


    "Shadow, prepare the base for the attack on Hound Warehouse after the initiation and tell Dean to prepare a detailed account of this month''s expenses. And I need the information on the veiled individual soon," Leon said calmly as he wiped the blood off his gun before handing it to another agent and walking to his car, finally driving off to his favorite bar.


    "Alice, safeguard the briefcase and also give this note to Lady Anastasia; also, relay the information that Marcus has gone rogue to Charlie, and he will know what to do from there," said Shadow before preemptively disappearing.


    While Marcus continued navigating out of the forest, the azure and crimson moons in the sky no longer emitted their radiant light at that section of the forest. Without a moment to think, his wrists and feet were disconnected from the rest of his body without bleeding due to the cauterizing effect of the slice.


    Marcus despaired, yet he kept crawling and struggling to escape this god-forsaken forest, screaming, "Maria... Charlotte..." he chanted this mantra, "I am coming home," hypnotizing himself to push forward. Eventually, he felt the damp soil, and his will reignited as a river surrounded the forest entrance.


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    Marcus kept crawling; then, a cackle resounded in the zone of darkness. A foot swiftly landed on his back. In an act of desperation, Marcus twisted his body at an awkward angle to bite the ankle of the cloaked individual. Unfortunately, he missed as the man rapidly kicked him, and before he could utter a word, he was knocked out; his body was placed in a perforated body bag before both disappeared into the night.


    At Marcus''s Residence


    An Echo Pulse edition sports car drove slowly, parking on the house''s porch. A man in a white suit, black tie, and a diamond-crusted watch exited the vehicle. He had an iconic smile and a neatly done fade that screamed mega-rich, but his smile carried a humble persona contrary to his outfit.


    After arriving, he gently walked towards the door and knocked.


    Thud, Thud, Thud.


    "Charlotte, go open the door," Maria gently asked. Charlotte quickly went and opened the door, and after opening the door, she suddenly looked up to see the man, who was a solid 6''2". However, instead of a scared expression, Charlotte was overjoyed as the man carefully looked her up.


    "Mama, it''s Uncle Charlie." A woman in her late 40s briskly walked towards the door to welcome the guest, but Charlie stopped her midway before hanging his suit off the coat hanger and going to the sitting room. While sitting opposite her, he looked sad before saying, "Sorry Maria, boss''s orders," as they collapsed.


    While driving on the highway in the Elysium 9th-generation sports car, the road was dimly illuminated by suspended lamps that decorated the sidesteps; the environment gave the street a brim feeling of elegance and history, and seeing how much this slum had evolved to such an ordered pathway brought an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.


    Leon thought of going to his favorite bar to get his mind relaxed and plan his next course of action. "It is shocking how much one can accomplish in three years, and even with all this, I''m still far away from overwriting the affairs of this state," said Leon as his face expressed both bitterness and sorrow as he reminisced about himself and a silhouette of the past he called family.


    Clearing his mind, he focused on who could have coerced Marcus into betraying the syndicate; all evidence pointed directly to the Bloodhound''s gang. However, he learned over the years that nothing was as it seemed.


    The more he drove down the highway, the more intense the crime became. The strangeness of this event was that, to the outside world, it was an ordinary trading street, but to those well attuned to the life of crime, it was a public black market. At every inch of this merchandise trading block, each criminal''s eyes reflected envy, greed, fear, respect, and reverence.


    This was where he first met a partner he could call brother; Leon could not hold in his laughter whenever he remembered how Charlie tried scamming him through sending bait to steal from him and acted as a good Samaritan who would help one find the thief while asking for a sum of money in return for finding the thief since he knew the slum the best and would run away with the money.


    "I think it was that moment I saw his potential in human relations and persuaded him into becoming my first comrade, and he is the closest thing I would call a brother," reminisced Leon as a gentle smirk crept upon his previous bittersweet expression.


    Across the highway, a plump man with a trimmed mustache in a white shirt lifted his hands to alert the car to slow down. Leon immediately stepped on the brakes slightly, bringing the vehicle to a halt. The car window surface switched from tinted to transparent, allowing for easy see-through.


    "Buzzkill, how are you doing? I just saw you heading downtown and wanted to check up on you," the plump man remarked. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Lately, there have been some more than usual suspicious activities in the neighborhood. I did some digging and found out that the advert crudis are doing some labor hiring," whispered the plump man to Leon.


    Leon''s forehead slightly creased as he processed this information, and gradually, he came to a realization. "Thanks, Ricardo, for the information. When will you ever do away with that nickname? It''s been two years, and you still haven''t dropped it. About the advert crudis, we lately had a peace treaty between each other to trade and move within turfs, but hiring laborers in this district is indeed quite suspicious."


    Smoothly changing the topic, Leon questions, "How''s both the day and night business performing these days?" Upon hearing Leon''s question, Ricardo''s mouth tilted slightly upwards, giving him a mischievous look.


    "I see everything is going well. Send the report to syndicate for review, and it was nice seeing you, Ricardo," said Leon before storming off to the distance to continue his journey...


    Meanwhile, in the Syndicate Base Accounting Department


    "Really, like, come on, this workload isn''t getting smaller," mumbled a young man looking no older than twenty. His complaint was quickly met with a newspaper to the head by a cigar-wielding middle-aged lady with a black ponytail with streaks of grey hair found at the sides.


    "Damn, old lady, always scolding me for the slightest mistake; why did I even get myself into this job?" said the skinny young man.


    "Dean, Leon told me to mold you to be a competent accountant," was the ashy smell from her mouth.


    "Boss Leon this, Boss Leon that, Lady Anastasia, you sure speak of him with so much pride. Are you sure you aren''t in love with the boss?" Dean teasingly said before roaring into laughter. His glee was cut short with a smack to the head with a bunch of files.


    Just then, a young lady entered the accounting department, holding a briefcase; she carried no scent as she briskly walked into the room without as much sound as her presence was void; she approached Lady Anastasia and handed her the letter before greeting her with hand signs: "My greeting, Miss Anastasia, these are our next of action." Immediately, her presence dissipated.


    Anastasia grew a complicated expression after the interaction; however, she quickly moved over it and opened the letter. "Someone is out there trying to make a profit by igniting a conflict between the syndicate and the hounds!" written with a bold red marker on the parchment. She gently removed her glove, and with a slight touch, the parchment turned to ashes.


    She promptly tilted her neck before waving her hand towards Dean immediately. The hairs on his neck stood on end, and he immediately went straight to work with no grumble in this distance.


    In an empty room underground in the facility...


    A body bag was slammed into the white room. The only sound emerging out of the interaction was that of a man coughing out blood; he squirmed out of the bag, bloodied all around and with rage-filled eyes. The shadowy figure approached him, "Don''t you fucking touch them, they had nothing to do with this, please forgive me, no, no spare them. I will do whatever you want; just don''t harm them!" as the middle-aged man pleaded with his mangled jaw.


    Shadow kicked him to the left as he coldly spoke, "If you feared for your family''s life so darn much, you wouldn''t have betrayed us. Or is it because you thought we weren''t as cruel as the hounds who sent you after us? So foolish; how do you think we''ve survived this long? Why, in your opinion, have not the Hounds themselves acted to stop us? Let me clue you in: they fear what happened to Deviants will happen to them. We treated you right out of respect for being in the family, yet you spat on our name and disgraced us. As you spat on boss Leon''s respect, we shall spit on the desecrated corpse of your wife and daughter. You, the whole syndicate, and I will have a standing ovation on what it means to cross the Syndicate."


    Suddenly, a ferocious yet high-pitched scream echoed as images of Marcus''s wife being tortured echoed on a screen.


    In the initiation conference...


    Members of the syndicate sitting in an auditorium watched as Marcus was driven to insanity; he dug his fingers into his eyes to see no evil, pierced his ear to hear no evil, and ripped his fingers to do no evil. As the scene unfolded, Shadow shouted, "Chant the Anthem!"


    Almost all the initiating members watched the scenery enthusiastically, and tears of reverence filled their eyes. Those who so ever did not hold reverence to such beauty were gunned down as they had no resolve to uphold the family values.


    After viewing this event through a holographic lens, Leon entered the run-down bar with a contradictory expression.


    NB: The city is called Xerxes, while the whole state is called Corinth.

 Chapter 2-The Crime Union

    The neon lights brushed against Leon''s face; the rain fell from the sky, and as the heavy downpour fell upon his shoulders, it reminded him of the burdens that lay on him; the flashes of Marcus''s downward spiral to madness reminded him of his cruelty, and that compassion dwindled as he remembered his familiar phrase, "there were no innocents in the crime world."


    Every action the syndicate took was an action he ordained. He looked at the bar that stood like a needle among haystacks. Leon held open the door to enter; he was politely seated at the far corner of the bar. Immediately, the bartender brought him a Kiwi drink with pumpkin pie. The pie looked delectable; the crust was flaky yet tender. The aroma gently stimulated his olfactory senses, and the cutlery in his hands held a potion that made his mouth water from how flavourful the pie was as he ravaged the pie without remorse. This meal was the only reminder of a man he called family¡ªwho always endangered his life for freedom. "I remember when he would eat the pie here like there was no tomorrow," Leon''s eyes watered in contrast to his genuine smile as he spoke to himself thoughtfully. The pie reminded the young man of the pleasantries of life.


    The intergram in Leon''s pocket suddenly buzzed. "Accept and secure communication," murmured Leon. There was a tiny chime that signalled a connection. Leon wore an earpiece and listened to the call. "Greetings, boss. The initial phase of elimination has concluded. We are moving on to the next phase of screening young people not qualified to manage the syndicate''s objective of completely revamping the state''s current operations.


    Furthermore, Charlotte and Maria''s identities have been changed, and they are currently being transported to The State of Babel, according to the medic. Marcus''s mind has also regressed to account for the traumatic experience he witnessed in the astral projection. Report Closed. He summarised the news, asking, "Is there a command you need to be relayed to headquarters?"


    After hearing the report, Leon broke into a cold sweat while investigating his surroundings out of habit," Charlie, I need you to undertake a reconnaissance mission on the Advert Crudis and gather info on their track; Anastasia is currently undertaking a similar mission concerning the Hounds, I suspect an alliance or a ploy by a third party to disrupt our standard operations."


    "Affirmative boss, but¡­ you don''t look-"


    "I''m fine, Charlie," Leon said suddenly, irritated. Quickly, Leon reflected and apologised." I''m sorry, I haven''t been myself lately. After the mission, let us have a drink," Leon solemnly said before getting interrupted by Charlie. "Why are you raising death flags so soon? I have not even gotten married and tabs on you after the mission. See you later, brother," Charlie cheekily said before disconnecting the InterCall.


    Miles away at a different section of the city, Charlie lay upon his luxurious bed as he peeked through his windows to see the weather from a rising apartment. Even though the soft snowfall was falling beautifully on Corinth''s streets, he had a pained expression on his face. He looked at his tastefully furnished antiques, his clothes, and his cardboard box from a bygone era that was kept in a showcase as a fair reminder of life on the streets; those were the days long since past when he would lay his cardboard box out on the hard pavement as he sought comfort in his dreams amidst Corinth''s bitter cold. He recalled his experience with hypothermia. Some dubbed it the gentle death. Rather than face the agony of starvation, he had witnessed the homeless people pass away voluntarily and peacefully. All age groups and walks of life were rife with the unfathomable desperation and hopelessness that pervaded these streets. He had seen the homeless do everything in their power to save abandoned newborn infants, only to meet their demise one after the other. Without as much as an outcry, the world kept on spinning. One could only feed oneself by assimilating and adopting the world''s ways; food could not be placed on the streets by his pure hands, and this was the lesson he learnt about this world the hard way.


    He snapped himself out of his thoughts to think about Leon''s mental state. His belief was corroding his thoughts.


    "Leon¡­Brother¡­I have to send him out after this; all this darkness is taking a toll on him. I have to make my brother achieve his goal of overhauling the current affairs of the state; in the meantime, let me make reservations and get him some downtime after the mission," Charlie amusingly thought as he dialled Anastasia''s number on his old intergram to see how preparations were coming up and a candidate capable of being his spiritual successor, yet the InterCall did not go through, "Diligent as always,"


    At the forest near the Ibizan Harbour at 3 am, the sky above was filled with dark clouds as the snow fell on the trees, yet there were no city lights near the base.


    Anastasia stood out of the hound''s base; she pulled her coat tighter around herself as small white clouds escaped through her mouth and nose. She pulled her hyper-optic binoculars to observe as she wrote the routine of the hound members on her smart pad. The absence of city lights was not an oversight but a design; each member knew the terrain by default as a preventive act from the invasion of other crime groups. However, this would lead to their downfall. They had become too comfortable for their own good.


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    Anastasia checked her watch; its soft blue glow was the only light source for yards around. It was 2:57 AM. The Hounds'' shipment would arrive soon. She tapped the watch twice, activating its built-in comms.


    Seekers, status report," she whispered.


    "All clear on the north side, ma''am; we are still seeking," Kaelin humoured in a low tone.


    Behave Kaelin, Retrievers?


    "East is secure; no signs of movement,"


    "The data has been transferred to headquarters. Update recorded data if any data is unaccounted for," Anastasia whispered to both teams. Everything is in place. This reconnaissance mission was crucial¡ªif there is an alliance between the Hounds, it will occur tonight, according to the data extracted from Marcus. "The shipment is going to arrive soon, and the boss has to know what is inside it," Anastasia emphasised as he re-tied her loose black-grey hair into a bun like he used to tie it for her. She quickly made her way out of the forest and close to the base''s walls. As these guards'' rotations took place, she viewed the shipment location.


    As the Aerolift came into Anastasia''s view, she marvelled at how grand the cargo was. The Aerolift model looked more advanced and sleeker, with the shipment being larger and more sophisticated. She was finally sure that the hounds wanted to launch an attack on them, but who was their supplier? How much influence did they possess, and what could they gain? All those questions popped into her mind. Unbeknownst to her and the world, the answers lay right under everyone''s nose.


    A hand clamped over her mouth from behind. In one fluid motion, she gripped her assailant''s arm, twisting it sharply as she drove her knee upward. A muffled grunt of pain rewarded her efforts.


    Anastasia''s fingers closed around the hilt of her concealed blade. In a heartbeat, she spun, the knife arcing towards her attacker''s throat¡ªonly to freeze mid-strike as recognition dawned.


    "Dammit, Kaelin," she hissed, lowering the weapon. "You were a hair''s breadth from a severed jugular."The young man before her¡ªhead clean-shaven¡ªdoubled over, one hand clutching his groin, the other hovering protectively near his neck.


    "Ma''am," Kaelin gasped, "you went dark. No, status update. I had to... confirm your safety."


    Anastasia was slightly sceptical. But before she could ask questions, the commotion from the harbour grasped her attention. The hovercraft had docked, and figures emerged from the shadows to meet it. Among them was a face Anastasia recognised so well¡ªthe leader of the Hounds himself.


    "Interesting," Kaelin whispered. "Change is coming,"


    Anastasia''s mind was in turmoil.


    Aside from the head of Advert Crudis and other significant players in the crime world, central official personnel and unknown assailants also arrived. This wasn''t just a simple alliance, as the boss had anticipated¡ªthey were forming a crime union¡ªfar more significant than we all assumed.


    "Boss Leon has to be informed about this. Our demise might have already taken motion," a panic-stricken Anastasia whispered. She raised her wrist to send a distress message to Leon, but as she tapped the watch, the screen remained dark.


    "Jammed," Kaelin said as he attempted to inform headquarters about the newfound intel. "There must be a dampening field."


    Anastasia''s eyes narrowed. "Then we have to do this the old-fashioned way. Are you up for it, Kaelin?


    "Always up for a risky infiltration," said Kaelin as a smile curled on his face.


    As they prepared to move, Anastasia couldn''t help but feel that something was off, but she could not wait to find out¡ªthe fate of the syndicate and perhaps Corinth''s current state of affairs hung in the balance.


    Anastasia nodded to Kaelin, and the two of them quickly moved around the guards at their blind spots as they got closer to the shipment. They broke the guards'' necks to see the shipped goods without hindrance when the cargo opened, and they were shocked to see weapons and equipment so sophisticated and plentiful that they could outfit a squadron.


    "War," Anastasia and Kaelin simultaneously exclaimed.


    Anastasia and Kaelin crept along the edge of the shipment and made their way to the meeting. The snow muffled their movements, and as they got closer to the conference, more bits of conversation could be heard.


    At the conference, the 30'' x 30'' black marbled room was decorated with murals of the ancient past; the chandeliers illuminated the room with vibrant peach colour, and the black chairs were filled with men and women who could shift the balance of the crime and political worlds in their entirety.


    A robust and ambitious man clothed in red started the conference with a statement that could only be agreed upon by some seated there. The subject of the matter was a man who would stop at nothing to take, and who was this man who made these prominent figures conflicted¡ªthe Leader of the Syndicate, Leon?


    "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. We are here to officially have a meeting as a union. To ensure we are undisputed in all of Corinth, one organisation must be wiped out: the syndicate. It has to be snuffed out from the map since its leader decided to be independent. Other groups have followed in his footsteps and are rebelling against us," the head of the Hounds said vigorously.


    Across the circular table, a calm, temperamental old man in a white suit looked at the hound''s leader with a pity gaze.


    "Hans, you are underestimating Leon. He''s not to be messed with. The syndicate serves as a deterrent, not a weakness. The wisest decision is to take control of weaker crime groups and lure the syndicate into a sense of security while we build our forces and make an offer he cannot refuse. If that does not work, force will be our last resort," remarked the calm old man.


    "Let''s not forget what he did to the deviants. He is more like his father than I give credit," he murmured under his breath.


    "When did we become so cowardly that we have to bargain with an organisation that has not been present for three years?" Hans intensely roared.


    "Shut up, Hans. Watch your tone around us; we aren''t the dogs you rule around these parts," scolded the leader of the Viper. She made it a point to remind him of their position. "We are criminals. We hide, we kill, and we bribe. Most of us got to our status through immoral methods; do not let the taste of power cloud your judgment. Any mistake on our part can lead to our death," said the head of Vipers with a cautionary demeanour.


    "Calm down; we are all friends here. This is not the time. Let''s cast a vote on whether we attack the syndicate in full force," said the woman in a blue suit.


    "Let the vote begin."

 Chapter 3-The Vote

    "Based on the votes, except for Hans and a few other groups, the union has unanimously agreed to withhold any conflict with the syndicate," Valentina announced as the grin on her face extended to her cheeks. However, Hans was on the opposite spectrum; his expression darkened, and gritted teeth showed his displeasure with the union''s decision.


    Hans thought to himself, "Damn it, cowards, if they would not support the fight against the syndicate, I will do it myself," but he kept his composure because he was enjoying the event and could not let his irritation with the decision damage his relationship with union members.


    5:30 at the black-marbled conference


    That dawn, drinks were shared, and there were dances and conversations. These were a matter of releasing tensions during their careers, and some used this event as a time to create personal alliances and opportunities. Aside from the earlier disagreement, the gathering had been a success.


    The members shared some pleasantries. The shipment was a sign of friendship to Hans for willingly joining the union, and the equipment shipment was meant for Hans to build his private army.


    However, Hans had a different opinion. He did not see the use of hiding behind his men. He fought for everything he had; everything he had could be accomplished with strength, and if he could not resolve it with strength, it meant he did not have enough strength. Only the weak rationalised their lack of strength with cunning and intelligence.


    "Schemes and tricks are nothing in the face of absolute power, and this union was a step to that goal," as he made plans to use the "gifts" for a good purpose.


    One by one, they left, all sharing advice with Hans; when it came to the old man''s turn, he looked at Hans as he remarked.


    "Remember, patience and intellect are facets of power. I hope you make the right choice." The old advised before leaving,


    "There are no absolutes, and I remain a fair witness of that fact," murmured the old man under his breath


    At this moment, Hans felt that everything he had planned was stripped naked in that man''s sight. He found wisdom in his words, but his pride would not allow him to come to terms with it. He remained adamant about his ideals.


    Indignation to the wise words was the folly of man.


    Valentina observed the changes in Hans''s emotions at the far side of the marbled hall. First, it was anger, then pride, acceptance, and finally indignation with a hint of fear, and she came to an understanding that Hans did not want an attack on the syndicate because of the union''s consolidation or dominance as he was thinking, it was because;


    "He subconsciously feels threatened by Leon and his reputation, and with how close both territories are, his fear has been magnified," Valentina muttered teasingly; the old man lightly nudged her with his walking stick, snapping Valentina out of her trance.


    "My dear child, what are you thinking about? "the old man asked with a bright smile. Valentina did not let his facade mislead her. She knew how dangerous this man was. She had investigated his background, yet nothing was peculiar about him; he was too clean, like a phantom with no past. It was as if he popped out of nowhere. While deep in thought, she poured wine for the old man before pouring herself a wine and conversing with him.


    The old man accepted the gesture with a smile and savoured the wine.


    "Sir Epsilon, greetings. It is an honour meeting you; I was curious about why he was so adamant about the union initiating a full-blown conflict with the syndicate," Valentina gave an answer that was not a lie but not the whole truth.


    "Greetings to you, Valentina of the Crimson Moon. You''re looking to use him as a measure of the syndicate capabilities, brilliant child; just be careful of entering into a matter that is not meant for you to interfere. Have a great evening, child, "Epsilon humorously remarked as he felt the occasion had come to an end.


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    "Thank you for the lesson, sir Epsilon," Valentina replied to the old man. Although she had already taken her stance, she couldn''t understand why this old man was so protective of the syndicate.


    Sir Epsilon muttered to himself, "It seems that both younguns nowadays pay no heed to an old man''s teachings."


    After all the pleasantries, talks, and dancing had concluded, Hans made his speech to conclude this grand gathering.


    " Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen; today has been a day of festivity, a day of friendship, and a day of trust and understanding. I devote this day to Avakos, and I pray that thou shall bless this day and guide us to a prosperous future. May our deals be fruitful and journey, and with this, our first union meeting has come to an end," Hans courteously said as he wished each member of the union fair well.


    The grand hall fell silent as Hans bid farewell to the last union members, leaving only the soft hum of the building''s climate system. Hans stood alone, contemplating his life decisions.


    High above the black-marbled conference room, Anastasia and Kaelin crouched in the shadows on the rooftop of an adjacent building. They had witnessed the gathering through highly specialised surveillance equipment; their bodies tensed in anticipation.


    Anastasia''s fingers danced around the communication device, storing the encrypted information from the meeting; she turned towards Kaelin with a grave expression.


    "Fortunately, the union voted against taking action against the syndicate. However, Hans remains adamant about attacking the syndicate; this might prove to be an obstacle to us; we need to send the information to headquarters," Anastasia relayed the encrypted message to Kaelin.


    "Our communication is still jammed; we must shut off the dampener. Ready, Kaelin," Anastasia continued.


    "Always ready, Lady Anastasia," Kaelin replied with a whisper.


    "We have to take them quickly and leave the premises immediately," Anastasia muttered as she quickly ended the life of each guard with a touch of her decaying hand; she targeted the neck regions of her enemies where their skin lay bare, with each touch their flesh surrounding their jugular crumbled as the content with throat spilled out. In response to the way they died, Kaelin instinctively held his neck, as a drop of sweat trickled down his forehead onto the neck, as a passive reminder of how deadly she could be.


    "Damn, I wonder what that might feel," Kaelin jokingly remarked.


    Kaelin had an easier time with the guards, quickly snapping the necks of the gang members without notice with his rapid movement; with a movement speed of 6000 km/hr, he moved twice as fast as a speeding bullet. They made their way to the roof of the adjacent building, where the dampener was. Upon their arrival, their stamina was mainly depleted due to ability overuse.


    Instead of arriving at the sight of elite guards, they came face to face with The Blood Hound, Hans Ridgeback.


    "My worries were not based on paranoia. Greetings, guests. What have I done to have the pleasure of meeting you two? You could have knocked, and you would have been let inside," Hans remarked.


    "Like anyone is going to believe that bullshit, it''s funny how you act so dignified and polite while whining to your parents to help you fight against our boss behind his back; I''m sure if he were here, you would run away with your tail between your legs or lick his boots when there is no place to escape to. Acting like a good dog in front of us when you are just a treacherous, poor mutt with an overinflated ego, "Kaelin kept spilling profanities that ticked off Hans more and more.


    Anastasia wondered what Kaelin was doing and was about to stop his action before she realized that Kaelin was creating an opening for her to use her decay touch on Hans because, regardless of his performance at the gathering, he was only rivaled by other heads. Even at their full strength, they could not defeat him, and now that their stamina was deficient, they were as good as dead.


    "Don''t bother looking for an opening. If it were any other day, I would have killed both of you, but today is a good day; you have delivered your lives to me, and I will make good use of it, loyal even in the face of death. I admire that, but that is where it ends. Nothing more, nothing less," as these words came out of Hans''s mouth, they froze and trembled from the bloodlust that he emitted.


    Without wasting a second, Anastasia and Kaelin bit their tongues to snap themselves out of the fear they felt; Kaelin drew his gun and shot Hans instinctually. Hans dodged to the left as the bullet grazed his right cheek; this was a deliberate action by Hans to draw out his fear of death, which heightened his five senses. Anastasia took that opportunity to land a hit on him. Immediately as Hans turned his body to intercept Anastasia, Kaelin also took advantage of Hans''s lack of footing and attention to give a final blow. Before both attacks could lock in, Hans decided to redirect Kaelin''s attack towards Anastasia while leaving Kaelin vulnerable to her touch; this led her palm to land directly on Kaelin''s jugular, instantly killing him. Hans took advantage of the shock factor to twist both Anatasia''s, leaving her immobilised.


    "He spoke profanities like there was no tomorrow, and now he won''t get to see tomorrow," Hans jokingly said.


    He held her by the hair as she gazed; she looked to anger and fear, yet she was met with absolute apathy; she saw a man who saw all this conflict as a mere squash of ants under his boot. Within the eyes of Hans Ridgeback, only one belief was held within them, and that belief was strength. She now came to the understanding that what made the leaders who they were was their beliefs, and their beliefs were what warped their surroundings. If that was true, what belief did Leon hold, and did all leaders operate on it?


    "Lady Anastasia, with your very eyes, you have witnessed the meaninglessness of tricks and schemes."


    "Only those with strength can dictate this world; without strength, you are to follow the whims of the strong. Remember, he died because he was weak; if I were to die at the hands of Leon, it was because I was weak, and if he were to die to me, then he too was weak. It is that simple, and that belief is what drives this world," as Hans spoke,


    Anastasia tried to refute his statement, but every rebuttal she attempted was knocked down in her mind, and the end product of their confrontation reaffirmed this; she finally understood that his belief had influenced him as she contemplated what had occurred. Hans received a call.


    "Thank you very much for alerting me of the intruder; I will hand her over to you as a sign of our friendship. Yes, don''t worry; most of the information will erased. Thanks again," replied the unknown caller before declining.


    "Lady Anna, it seems someone is genuinely interested in you. Do not worry. I will let Leon know that I killed one of his men and that you are alive," Hans muttered to Anastasia before erasing information about the union and its members, sending the message to challenge Leon after destroying Leon. He then sat beside Lady Anastasia, lit the cigarette, and gazed at the beautiful stars in the lovely night sky, committing them to memory before the battle of life and death commenced.


    "Tonight is truly a beautiful night."

 Chapter 4-Sorrow & Grief

    Tick Tok Tick Tok¡ªbrrring, the irritating sound from the dynamic clock woke him up as he removed his bed sheet from his body and put on his morning slippers; he sluggishly crawled towards the bathroom with his white bathrobe wrapped around his body to fend off his body against the harsh snowfall in this uncaring winter. Even with the heavy insulation and high-quality heater, the winter still pierced his skin as if invited back into the harsh conditions of Xerxes. As he arrived at the bathroom door, he blinked to remove the dry, layered crust under his eyes; he fetched himself some water, and as he brushed, he thought to himself.


    "Yesterday was wild; I think I got a message in my sleep; I''m sure she is out in my message, bragging about how effortless the mission was; by the way, that funny and charismatic boy I saw as part of her squad. Yeah, Kaelin was his name; he reminds me of myself; if possible, I will ask Anna to lend the boy over to me; he will make a fine apprentice.


    Whimsically, Charlie thought as he rinsed his mouth with water in a glass. Holding the glass, he removed his intergram from his robe and scrolled through the message until he saw Anastasia''s contact. Red spots slowly formed on the white tile, and his hand could be seen dyed red as his blood flowed across his hand and dripped downwards, glass shards embedded only in his skin. However, instead of expressing pain, his fist tightly clenched the glass jar while his brows furrowed, with his jaw and lips tensed; as he continued reading, the rage within him subsided, yet a sorry look lingered on his expression.


    "Bad luck as always, so he''s dead. But. Why?" Charlie mournfully thought as he washed the bloodstains from his hands. Tears did not flow down his face. "Even now, I do not cry; the lives I have taken, it''s no longer a surprise; maybe I have been stripped of the right to feel," feeling disgusted in himself. Charlie took out his streamlined double-breasted black suit and wore it. Upon it, he added a heavy jacket, and with that, he wore a black leather glove to mask the scars.


    He quickly descended the stairway instead of the escalator to drown the sorrow he felt towards the boy''s death; the only thought that consoled him on his way to the ATM was the thought of Anastasia being alive; even this could not be guaranteed; he thought of what to tell his loved ones, his boss and all those to whom he brought a change in their lives. He remained confused as he reached the final step. He opened the door only to be met with a man with an appearance that branched between hardship and casual, yet even with all these social and economic baggage that could be inferred from the man, Charlie was still met with a smile and a greeting.


    "Good morning, Charles; how have you been?" the kind elderly man questioned as he widened his arms to hug Charlie, to which Charlie reciprocated." I have been doing great lately, Joseph. I would ask the same for you, but you don''t look great, "Charlie jokingly remarked.


    "Kiddo, well, I would not say bad; it''s a repetition of a past event. I could say the same for you. I know a person who is mourning internally when I see one. Why don''t we take a seat on the bench across the street and understand what is making a cheerful person like you so sad?" old man Joseph said as he and Charlie walked across the street to discuss their situation on the bench.


    Joseph sat across Charlie as he inquired."What is on your mind?"


    "This morning, I found out that a junior of mine that I was planning under my wing just died on work travel; I feel guilty for asking him to go on the work travel. I am on my way to break the news of his tragic end. He had so many dreams, aspirations, and goals he wouldn''t have the opportunity to achieve now," Charlie recounted his experience while changing the scenario yet maintaining the context to hear out what the man had to say without exposing himself. Joseph quietly pondered upon what Charlie had said to him before finally breaking the silence,


    "Charlie, all I can say is that I have experienced loss so many times; even now, I am experiencing it. However, with all that said, I can''t say I know your loss because that is only unique to you, but what I can say is allow yourself to mourn, cry, and weep."


    "Let your tears testify that such a beautiful child has left this world; after you are done, I will ask you to smile and mark the positive impact. It is well, Charlie. I know that child would not want this burden to eat you inside. He''s in a better place. You can weep, my child; it''s alright, my child, you can weep and mourn him," Joseph softly muttered.


    The answer to that soft, comforting speech was the sound of sobbing; Charlie''s hands covered his face as tears ran down. The only thing Joseph did was pat him on the back as he patiently waited until he had finished mourning.


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    After sobbing, Charlie wiped his tears with his handkerchief. He looked at Joseph with a smile that reminded him of his youth.


    "Thank you so much, Joseph; why don''t I get you a new job and a better place to live," Charlie said in appreciation of Joseph''s goodwill. Joseph rejected the offer, simply saying,


    "I just told you what I would have told you myself. I am grateful for the job, but regardless of how good life has been to me, eventually, I bring ruin to it. I am a broken man, Charlie. I know the right thing to do, but I am scared of change; the life I have liked is not one I am proud of, but I have come to find solace in it."


    "Joseph, I can help-, "Charlie nearly uttered before being interrupted.


    "I am old Charlie. I have come to accept it," Joseph gently said. Charlie came to the realization that some things could not be changed, and he felt sad that this was one of the things he could not change regardless of anything.


    He felt powerless that, he could not return the favor.


    "Charlie, you coming to terms with emotions is enough compensation. I will see you later," Joseph smiled as he continued his day.


    "Thank you, old man," Charlie gently smiled as he waited for the bus.


    The bus arrived, and he departed, taking the bus to the residence of Kaelin''s relatives. He abandoned the idea of presenting physical currency, as he decided it would be best to offer any compensation and any other monetary fee digitally to avoid being disrespectful. In this situation, they might presume he was throwing cash in exchange for their son''s or brother''s life. As he walked the path to his home, he remembered seeing how much the neighborhood had changed. He thought to himself how much the environment had changed.


    "The rowdy boy was indeed a prodigal son; he remembered when Kaelin first got accepted into the syndicate, the street was riddled with drugs, homelessness, shooting, and indecency, but the street was now suburban, the quality and quantity of homes had increased, and he had built orphanages, jobs and done charity. He reminds me of myself."


    "When he joined Anastasia''s private squad, he kept eating at the cafeteria; I sat by him, flabbergasted. He nearly made a run to get food for him, but I stopped him, asking him why he was eating here."


    "He responded that the lunch man cooked the best dishes." Charlie could not help but giggle at his experience with Kaelin. Later that evening, he remembered how he had scouted where he transferred his money; seeing how he funneled and managed his paycheque to improve his community became his guilty pleasure. Improvement ceaselessly occurred until it became what we see now.


    Upon reaching their front door, he remembered how he first came to visit on a day of festivity, but now he was the bearer of bad news.


    Thud Thud Thud


    Within the confines of their home, the Eldris family was having turkey and mac and cheese for dinner when the doorbell was heard. A fair young lady rose from her seat to meet the visitor. Opening the door, she was happy to see Uncle Charlie. However, she looked around him to see if Kaelin had also come. Still, seeing Charlie had come to their humble abode alone, she appreciated and saw it as an opportunity to get closer to him. Instinctively, she had a gut feeling that something was wrong but discarded those feelings since she didn''t want them to interfere with the joyful atmosphere.


    "Good Morning, Simona; how are you doing?" Charlie said while looking downward. Seeing that Charlie looked sad, she made an effort to make him feel happy, remarking.


    "I am doing well, Uncle Charles. Don''t stand out in this cold weather. Come in and have dinner with us. We are having turkey, one of your favorite meals with Mum''s infamous cheese; hurry on before the food turns cold," she replied as she winked, rushing inwards to announce her uncle''s arrival.


    "Mom, Dad. It''s Uncle Charles," Simona said excitedly. Charlie entered the house and hung his jacket on the rack. Seeing their cheerful and carefree attitude during this season made it all the harder to present the news of Kaelin''s death. He gathered courage and muttered the phrase.


    "I''m sorry, Simona, Kaelin is¡ª"quickly Simona interrupted Charlie, assuring him, remarking.


    "I know he''s busy with work and won''t have time for Ikro''s festivities. Don''t feel bad, Unc," cheekily Simona intersected, but Charlie made sure to end his statement.


    "Kaelin is dead."


    At that exact moment, the bright peach color and the blue sky color turned grey, and the sound of silence resided as the ice snow pierced their hearts. Upon their face was the look of confusion; their brain simply failed to process and accept the truth.


    Denial.


    "Uncle Charlie, don''t make such a joke; Kaelin can''t be dead. He was strong and healthy when we last. Met. Where is he? Call him. Call him now. Please tell me he is alive. He is too young to die. It can''t be; he''s not married yet; I did not get to see his children; he can''t die; he is strong; why are you lying," Simona pleaded and pleaded, yet Charlie repeated his initial statement.


    "I am sorry, Simona, Kaelin is dead


    Anger.


    Simona screamed as she fell to her knees. Charlie caught her fall, but Simona''s mother quickly pushed him aside, saying to him.


    "Don''t touch my daughter before you kill her, just like how you killed my boy. I know you killed him. You murderer, leave this house. If he hadn''t gotten this job, we might still have been poor, but he would have been alive. Get out!" Simona''s mother screamed at Charles while her eyes looked red from rage and tears. She lashed out at Charlie, hitting him several times, but he did not react. He simply let her hit him until she could no longer muster the strength to continue.


    "I''m sorry, Mrs. Eldris," Charlie muttered again in a grief-stricken state.


    Bargaining.


    Simona started bargaining with Charlie, asking him to bring back their brother; she begged and begged, saying she would do anything he demanded, yet Charlie remained silent. He knew that it was nearly impossible to bring someone back to life. Simona pleaded and pleaded, yet no answer came.


    Acceptance.


    "It''s enough, Simona. He''s gone and won''t come back," Simona''s father said firmly as his dress wetted from the tears that flowed from his reddened eye. He carried himself and supported his wife and daughter from the ground. He gently lifted them and slowly laid them down on the mattress in the bedroom. After comforting them, he looked at Charlie and hugged him.


    "Let''s talk on the porch," Simona''s father said before wiping his tears as they exited the house.

 Chapter 5-The Initiation

    In the underground auditorium of the syndicate, where morning and evening could not be differentiated, a place where the shine of the lights on a ceiling determined the passing of day and night.


    Bodies of the dead students from the purge during the assembly were removed. Many of them were in their young years¡ªthe trails of blood, distorted expressions, and the screams of the dead during the initiation were imprinted in the minds and hearts of the survivors. Yet the faces of surviving candidates held expressions of reverence; however, deep down, some were in awe, some were shocked, some were not surprised, but most had a shocking and even instinctual realisation that this hellhole might be their final resting place.


    The candidates conversed with each other, some looking to form hierarchies, others looking for ways to escape, and very few comforted those troubled by the current situation. The auditorium became louder and louder as chaos ensued¡ªsuddenly, a lady who looked in her 60s, clothed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, entered the auditorium.


    She had a dark complexion, and her silvery hair was tied back, matching her silver wristwatch. Each wrinkle she had told a story of the adventures and adversaries she had encountered throughout her life; she carried a dignified look that commanded respect. As she approached the podium, she looked at the new round of probationary students before picking up the microphone to start her lesson.


    "Silence!" she commanded. However, she was paid no heed.


    "The next time I utter ''silence,'' no one will leave these premises alive," she commanded again. Some students were quick enough to remember that they were not in the outside world, but other students felt insulted that an old lady wanted to order them around; they decided it was best to gang up on her, but that was a decision they would not have the chance to regret.


    "First lesson: Respect your elders, or consequences will be met," she sternly uttered as the heads of rebellious candidates disconnected from their bodies. Instantly, silence engulfed the whole auditorium.


    "Second lesson: Whenever I finish my sentence, you will respond, ''Yes, Ma,''" she remarked.


    "Yes, Ma," all the surviving candidates rose from their seats and responded respectfully. Seeing that the atmosphere had become tense and peaceful, she smiled, finding solace in it. She took her smart pad, tapped it, and illustrated a hierarchical graph on the board.


    "Good evening, class. I am Madam Avery, head of the teaching department. I will be the one to teach you about the roles and responsibilities of the syndicate, the world, and how to unlock your abilities; to put it simply, this is an introductory class," Madam Avery remarked.


    "Yes, Ma," the candidates responded respectfully.


    "The Syndicate was founded about three years ago by our supreme leader to overthrow the current state of affairs; as you can see on the board, the hierarchy of the syndicate is comprised of six main circles with approximately 650 members in total."


    "You are all at the bottom of the barrel, not even at the level of trainees yet. You all are probationary members; however, by the time I am done working on you all, every single one of you will be a proud member of the syndicate."


    "Yes, Ma," the students responded. At the far back, a shy guy in a baseball cap raised his hand to ask a question, which Madam Avery gestured for him to ask.


    "Please, my name is Matthew; what do we have to do to become trainees and rise through the ranks?" the boy asked, visibly scared, evident from his twitching and palpitating arm. Seeing how scared the candidate was, a smile curled on her face, yet having the courage to ask how to rise through the ranks was admirable.


    "Excellent question. As you all remember, tickets were distributed anonymously to all sectors of Xerxes, with the strict instruction that with the wealth this opportunity provides, death also knocks on the same door; this distribution served as the primary filter of candidates. This was to test those who could grasp opportunities presented to them."


    "The second trial was to test the resolve of candidates through the illustration of an interrogation of a traitor¡ª" As Madam Avery lectured, suddenly a girl with a ponytail donned in a white vest with black jeans interrupted her, questioning,


    "Isn''t that a waste of human resources and potential?" she asked, hoping to curry favour by asking a question she deemed brilliant. However, her little finger on her dominant hand was cleanly sliced off. She nearly screamed, but a female candidate held her mouth to stop her as she struggled from the pain. The girl who prevented her scream signalled her to look at Madam Avery.


    It was at that moment she realised that if she had screamed, her head would have been separated from her body. The expression of Madam Avery at that moment cemented what would be a long run of trauma, even after her death.


    "Thank you, Elise. I owe you my life," Martha whispered, tears flowing from her eyes as she swore to get back at her when she rose to a higher status than her.


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    "Can anyone tell me the reason for the punishment and what she did wrong?" Madam Avery asked the assembly of probationary members. Immediately, the candidates racked their brains to find the perfect answer. Yes. Not an answer, but the ideal answer. They saw this as an opportunity to give an answer that would make them stand out from the crowd.


    During this session, a boy with a buzz cut raised his hand to answer the question. This boy was a candidate who had taken advantage of the chaos to ally with five other candidates. Madam Avery called on him, and he stood and responded,


    "Yes, Ma."


    "Please, Madam, her mistake was to interrupt you, thereby disrespecting you, an elder, which violated your first rule. Second, she questioned the syndicate''s methods in a manner that looked down on our glorious institute''s intellect. Last, she spoke without manners and needed to be taught a lesson," the punk-like boy answered respectfully.


    With each point made, Madam Avery nodded in acknowledgement not only because of his great point but also because of his ability to take an opportunity without hesitation while properly and sensibly articulating his points.


    "Perfect mark for your answer, Dante. Everything you said was on point. Sit down," Madam Avery politely instructed while highlighting the names of Martha, Elise, Dante, and his allied members.


    "He has great potential in leadership; even his dress has thought behind it. In dressing the way he does, he allows the guard of his enemy to be lowered. If it had been anyone else who answered, they would have been ostracised for gaining more opportunities than others. Jealousy."


    "From his looks, he would be perceived as an impulsive brat without scrutiny. Now I wonder how he and Matthew would relate in the special class." Madam Avery''s wrinkles tensed as she smirked thoughtfully.


    "As I said earlier, the second test was to observe your ability to adapt to your surroundings and maintain composure when in a fearful and irrational situation. What all these things have in common is that they are all tests of various kinds. To rise through the ranks, you must accomplish several smaller missions or a mission far exceeding your rank."


    "The missions are categorised into nine types: reconnaissance or intelligence missions, research missions, legal missions, daily operations missions, field missions, support missions, technology missions, finance missions, and enforcement missions, with varying difficulties. At the end of the month, you are assessed according to the mission category in which you believe you excel. When one passes with flying colours, they are promoted; when they fail, the opposite happens."


    "Further details about the syndicate''s inner workings, roles, and responsibilities have already been uploaded to your new state-of-the-art smart pads; they will be operational only for you. The pad is to be taken care of, as that is where missions, announcements, and all syndicate-related activities will be communicated and answered from unless a direct meeting is being called for," Madam Avery explained.


    After lecturing the class, she illustrated an image of a brain on the board titled "The Universe."


    "What you are seeing on the board is obviously a brain, but what if I were to tell you this was the blueprint of the universe¡ª"


    Upon hearing this, the students were confused about why their madam made such an absurd statement. Seeing the looks on their faces, she understood how ridiculous this statement was in their line of reasoning.


    "Let me clarify: in the past, astrophysicists, with the help of neuroscientists, observed that the number of galaxies in the universe was equivalent to the number of neurons in our brain. Fast forward to the current age, when we managed to get a glimpse outside our universe, we observed that the ever-expanding tree on this planet extended past our universe to connect to various other universes, forming a cosmic web."


    "The number of universes is also said to be the same as the number of galaxies in our universe. This discovery has led us to believe that our existence is a figment of a supreme being''s imagination," Madam Avery remarked. This realisation spurred different reactions and feelings within the students. Some felt their lives were meaningless, some wanted to know more about this unbelievable universe, and some were unbothered by this hypothesis.


    "What I am trying to say is this: There had to be a reaction within this universe that triggered our existence, and the same reaction might be what allows living beings to acquire their abilities. Since everyone is their own sentient universe, we are studying ways of triggering abilities of our choosing by learning about various stimuli and which abilities they awaken."


    "We still have questions about whether the universe has a will or consciousness, and if so, what role it plays in all this," Madam Avery lectured about the topic of abilities and its possible connection with the world they live inside.


    "After the lectures, you will all be tested to study the extent of your abilities. Remember, don''t get overly excited or demotivated by whatever the detector shows. The full potential of your ability is all in your mental space; be creative, explore, and never stagnate."


    "I am an example of your starting point not determining your end; read it up in your codex if you have doubts. The lecture is over," Madam Avery muttered before leaving the premises.


    After the lecture, Matthew tried socialising with fellow probationary members. Instead, he was shunned. Feeling demotivated, he sat at his place, planning his next steps. Right as he was deep in thought, Dante approached him and spoke.


    "Hey, how are you doing?" Dante asked Matthew while taking a seat by his side. While Dante conversed with Matthew, a member of Dante''s group asked what he was doing.


    "Conrad, you know the boss always does his best to acquire talents. Personally, I can see his potential to be as great as the boss, with a little more guidance," another member commented.


    Conversation between Matthew and Dante¡­


    "Oh, I see; you took this job to earn money to aid your family. I know that they are proud to have such a great son," Dante remarked.


    "Thank you. I appreciate the company, but what do you want from me?" Matthew asked.


    "I see we''re being direct here. I wanted to get to know you. I also wanted to ally; as the saying goes, why make an enemy when you can have a friend," Dante said jokingly. Hearing Dante''s offer of friendship, Matthew pondered it before finalising his answer.


    "Why not," Matthew replied, extending his hand to Dante, which Dante reciprocated with a handshake.


    Madam Avery observed all of this through her smart pad, to which she said,


    "This might just be a year of prodigies. If possible, it would be second only to the first generation."

 Chapter 6-Acceptance

    As the chill breeze danced around Xerxes, anyone clueless enough to stand in its midst felt a chilling sensation throughout their bodies. This season was so strangely cold throughout its reign, as the sun was nowhere to be seen, and the high clouds hid the sun''s presence from this world''s surface. However, this came nowhere close to what these two men felt in their hearts. They walked through this intense weather without speaking. The heavily clothed man in red with his neatly trimmed beard controlled the small portion of ice as he shaped it into a fine wine glass; with a wave of his hand, he meticulously gathered water from the skies as he purified it and placed it inside the glass; after the performance, he handed the glass to the fellow beside him with a smile that hid immense sadness behind his eyes.


    "Have a drink, Charlie. Please don''t blame yourself for what happened to my son. To be honest, I expected it to happen, but not so soon. Tell me how he died," the man with the chiseled jaw questioned. Being confronted with such a question, the guilt ate Charlie inside out; he adjusted his heavy dark coat as he lifted his head to answer the question.


    "Anton, It was this morning when I heard the news, seeing how abrupt his death was. I dug into it and discovered that his plane had been tampered with. I believe that one of his enemies from his legal battle might have been involved, and his trip to Festivus was the perfect opportunity to plan it," Charlie remarked somberly as he firmly held the ice glass and chugged down the water.


    The reply was without flaws, but Anton''s expression stayed the same. It felt like he wanted a different answer, but it was unclear if it was because he caught Charlie''s lie or if he expected something more. However, Charlie wondered what Anton wanted to discuss that warranted the walk. Before he could conjecture, Anton swiftly interjected.


    "Kaelin always wanted to be a lawyer, even when we were poor; he believed that if he became one, he could solve the injustice against the poor with words, so when I learned that he had gotten the opportunity to become a lawyer, I was overjoyed. That event marked one of the happiest days in my life," Anton muttered as Charlie listened closely as he continued.


    "However, things aren''t what they seem; as the days went by, he did his best to support us, but even with us being family, he could not tell us the truth of his job," Anton said as he stared at Charlie straight in his eyes as his feet glided against the snow.


    "Wait, are you suggesting your son was in any dangerous or illegal business," Charlie gasped with a confused expression.


    "Relax, Charlie, I am done yet. A year later, I barged into his room by accident, and what I saw was unnatural, considering the nature of his job and the time he goes and comes home. Kaelin''s muscle mass was too exaggerated, to say the least, and his progress was unheard of within a year."


    "Having doubts, I asked to bond with him in the boxing gym nearby. But he was reluctant at first. But I gave him my reasoning that he had been sitting in an office for the longest time and, as such, he needed to move his body; he agreed with me, and such, we had a match, but before I knew it, I got knocked out. "Anton remarked as he laughed at the memory of the event. Charlie, however, was not as fond of the story as Anton because he felt he knew where Anton was going with the story.


    "Waking up from the knockout. Kaelin apologized and said it was a lucky shot, but an amateur as I was, there was nothing lucky about that punch; it looked and felt coordinated. Two words. Muscle memory. I finally came to the hypothesis that his job as a lawyer was a disguise for a more dangerous job."


    "And that job is what led to his death. What are your thoughts on the hypothesis?"


    "So Charlie, once again, I''m asking you, How did my son die."


    Seeing how Anton had fitted all the pieces together, Charlie sighed, frustrated about what to do now.


    Looking into the man''s eyes, he saw a man who wanted to know the truth about his son''s death so he could mourn and lay his mind to rest. With the guilt he felt about Kaelin''s death and the pain he caused the family, he thought it was fitting that Anton knew the truth. Leon''s words rang in his mind as he was about to tell him the truth.


    "We as a group are trying to change to make this world a better place, but do not mistake us for heroes, for we have sullied our hands with the blood of murderers and innocents alike. I say this to you as a brother, as I know how much your compassion drives you."


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    As these words rang in his mind, he still felt it was the right and necessary thing to do, but before that, he had to confirm something. Charlie rubbed his leather gloves against the ice glass before drinking the last bit of water within it.


    "If I told the truth and this information were to leak, it would jeopardize your family''s life. Are you still willing to know more?" Charlie made sure to make him understand the danger this knowledge could pose.


    "I still would like to know," Anton reaffirmed his decision. Charlie, seeing the man''s resolve, closed his eyes.


    As he uttered,


    "The Final Kingdom"


    A snap resounded as the space around them distorted; Anton found himself in an absolute void. This place felt like a mythical place he had read about in a book: Limbo, where all things came to an end. He felt neither cold nor heat; his sight could not understand where he was since there was nothing in the space to process. If he were to describe his current sensation, it would be. Hollow.


    He felt his sense of self slipping before he gave in to the void. His state and sense of being were stabilized.


    "Sorry, Anton, but speaking of this information outside is too risky. This is the only place I can ensure that the information I am about to tell you will be safe," Charlie remarked. Then, he explained everything that transpired and what group he belonged to. After hearing everything, Anton felt overwhelmed with his son''s involvement. Charlie still felt one thing wasn''t right about all this.


    "Why did you not stop your son if you felt what he was involved in was dangerous?" Charlie inquired Anton about this, and he felt a slight happiness within the mental connection.


    "He was happy, and from the look of things, he believed in the cause you and your leader strived for. The best I can do as a father is to support him."


    "Knowing he died fighting for what he believed in has made me come to terms with his death."


    "I have one selfish request: make sure he dies," Anton remarked as the guilt and sorrow he felt seemed to wash away from his heart. Charlie then liberated his realm and brought them both back to reality.


    In the real world...


    Anton and Charlie found themselves at the bus station, with Anton finally walking home to support his family through these dark times. When he left the station, Charlie saw a neatly folded note in the lower pocket of his dark leather jacket.


    In the note, it said


    "Thank you for everything. May Avakos guide thy path."


    A smile erupted on his face; the little joy he felt at the moment was¡ª


    Bzz Bzz Bz


    Immediately, the sound of his integram interrupted his sentimental moment; he felt like knocking some sense into the person who called to read the room before they called him.


    Upon viewing the caller, his eyebrows and lips tensed, and his forehead creased. He answered the call; the secretary told him the leaders would meet in the Darkroom in 30 minutes. After being made aware, he swiftly returned to his hideout to prepare for the meeting. During this moment, several other heads of the syndicate''s inner circle wore their formal attire and made their preparation to observe


    Twenty minutes later, in another city...


    The well-lit street was bustling with people from every angle of the city, cheering and smiling. The cold wintery sensation could not dull the gambling dens and casinos of the glorious town of indulgence. The passion and emotions built in this city flared up as the festival of Ikros was close. Happiness was a currency in this city, and those who lacked it were not to be found on such a joyous occasion.


    This was the vibrant city of festivals: Festivus.


    Across the Terre Haute district, Leon entered a small reddish cottage that looked out of place. As he went inside, he found his humble abode. He viewed it with nostalgia before quickly making his way to the basement. He opened a secret latch under the wooden boards. A screen scanned his eyes, and he uttered with his palm pressed against the screen.


    "Libertas et Dominatio duo latera ejusdem monetae; et tamen qui unam acquirit, alteram habebit in suo iure."


    The latch opened, showing a futuristic base-lit blue neon light with a sleek, mystical black table and chair in the center. He laid his palm on the table, which caused the slow formation of an azure circular ring on the table, which initiated his connection to the Cybernet. He entered a syndicate server, Darkroom, upon which the hologram projection of heads of the inner circle appeared.


    "Good evening, Supreme Leader," remarked five dark silhouettes as they bowed with reverence. Leon waved his hand; immediately, they all arose.


    "It has been three years since the syndicate was founded, and each of us pledged to support the goal of overthrowing the government and making this accursed world a better place, but we needed to build a firm foundation. To create such a world, we require influence. These two we have achieved."


    "The final puzzle piece was the perfect time to start our conquest, and today, our first target has given us the opportunity and a reason to take action."


    "Our overall goal is to become the most notorious crime organization in the world, to gain enough power and influence to challenge the current world order."


    "Our first objective and cornerstone towards this goal is the destruction of The Blood Hounds," Leon triumphantly uttered as each of the heads of the inner circle bowed again in response to Leon''s speech. The pressure emanating from these five presences was similar to that of a crime head.


    "I, Charles Zenator, Second-in-Command of The Syndicate, will make sure your will comes to fruition," uttered a silhouette as he arose.


    "I, Benedita Aishwarya, Head of Finance of The Syndicate, will make sure your will comes to fruition," uttered the second as she arose.


    "I, Shadow Jabez, Head of Enforcement of The Syndicate, will make sure your will comes to fruition," uttered the third as he arose.


    "I, Alice Kioshi, Head of Intelligence of The Syndicate, will make sure your will comes to fruition," she signaled with hand signs as she arose.


    "I, Victor Ignatious, Head of Operations of The Syndicate, will make sure your will comes to fruition," he uttered as he rose.


    These individuals represented the very pillars of The Syndicate, and these men reaffirmed their firm support for the pledge they had made to Leon. He nodded to acknowledge their efforts throughout, as unbeknownst to the world, this would mark the age of dominion.


    "Let us start with the plan on how we would infiltrate and attack the blood hounds," Leon said as they discussed which method was more convenient for ending their reign.