Chapter 5: The Veil Shattered and the True Leaders Revealed
The low hum of engines filled the air as Arthur's private Airbus A380 soared above the Atlantic, slicing through clouds like a steel predator. The custom-built aircraft wasn't just transportation—it was a mobile fortress, a symbol of power concealed behind polished marble floors, leather seats, and walls lined with old-world symbols hidden beneath modern design.
Arthur sat in the main cabin, his eyes fixed on the massive screen at the far end of the room. The encrypted communication was already active, each holographic window displaying the face of an Elder or high-ranking descendant from his bloodline—those who had, across centuries, served under his shadow.
Or so he believed.
Selena poured herself a glass of wine, her sharp eyes flickering toward her father. "They're nervous," she noted, swirling the liquid. "They can sense it."
Arthur's expression remained unreadable. His golden eyes reflected ancient knowledge, infinite patience… and disappointment.
"They should be," he replied calmly. "The Veil is crumbling. Secrets kept for centuries are bleeding into the open."
Daniel adjusted his cufflinks, standing near the panoramic windows that revealed the endless night sky. His posture was rigid, the tension of betrayal heavy in the cabin. "You know some of them betrayed us," he muttered.
"I raised them," Arthur's voice darkened, each word carrying the weight of history. "Fed them power, granted them eternity—and still, they forget."
Selena leaned against the edge of the table, smirking. "Perhaps they need a reminder."
Arthur nodded, lifting his hand as the final Elder connected. The screen now displayed a mosaic of familiar faces—leaders of industries, royalty hidden in plain sight, political architects, all bound by his blood.
He let the silence stretch, heavy and suffocating.
"Let's dispense with pleasantries," Arthur began, his voice silk over steel. "The Veil is broken. The humans you've manipulated… they whisper of shadows now. Conspiracies, forgotten bloodlines, ancient beings… us."
A murmur rippled through the group. Some recoiled; others tried to mask their unease.
"Your mistakes," Arthur continued, "your greed, your arrogance… it exposed cracks in the foundation I built."
An Elder named Marcus, seated in a golden chamber in Europe, spoke up. His silver hair and sharp jaw belied the fear in his eyes. "Master, with respect, we've contained the rumors. Humans always chase fantasies. They suspect nothing truly dangerous."
Selena's laughter was cold and biting. "Fool. Humans suspect everything. That's their nature."
Another voice chimed in—a woman named Helena, seated in what appeared to be a luxurious Manhattan penthouse. "We've strengthened our networks. Politicians, media outlets—they work for us. We still control the narrative."
Arthur's eyes narrowed, ancient fury simmering beneath his calm. "You control nothing," he declared softly. "The world shifts beneath your feet, and still, you pretend you hold the reins."
Daniel stepped forward. "Tell them," he urged.
Arthur's gaze sharpened, scanning the faces on the screen. "There are traitors among you."
The room erupted in tension. Some Elders stiffened. Others remained still, masks of politeness cracking under the pressure.
"I know who you are," Arthur continued, standing now, towering above them even from thousands of miles away. "And I want you to understand… I don't need armies to end you. I don't need to lift a weapon, to ignite a war, to spill a drop of blood."
He placed two fingers to his temple, a subtle gesture loaded with unimaginable power.
"A single thought," Arthur whispered, "and you vanish. Your blood turns to ash. Your legacy… erased."
The cabin's atmosphere thickened with supernatural pressure. Even through the encrypted call, the traitors felt it—the choking weight of ancient authority pressing against their very souls.
Marcus's face paled. Helena's eyes widened. Others lowered their heads in shame or terror.
Selena grinned, teeth sharp as daggers. "You forget who created you," she reminded them, voice laced with dark amusement.
Arthur's eyes found the worst offenders—faces once dear to him, now twisted by greed. "Some of you… my own children," his tone cracked with ancient sorrow, "I gave you power beyond kings, beyond death itself… and yet, you betrayed me."
A younger face on the screen—a man named Lucien, one of Arthur's most gifted descendants—spoke, defiant. "The world has changed, Father. Your ways are… outdated. Influence is money now. Control is information, technology."
Arthur's smile was bitter and knowing. "The tools change, child. The nature of power does not."
Daniel stepped beside his father. "And now you'll learn what it means to lose that gift."
Arthur exhaled, golden eyes glowing faintly. A silent pulse rippled through the connection. The traitors on the screen gasped—their skin paling, eyes sinking, the power Arthur once gifted draining from their bodies like sand through an hourglass.
"No death today," Arthur declared. "But your eternity… revoked. You'll age, weaken, fade… like the mortals you once despised."
Lucien collapsed in his chair, horror spreading across his features. "You… you can't…"
"I can," Arthur confirmed coldly. "I did."
Selena raised her glass in mock salute. "Enjoy your final decades. They pass quickly."
Arthur adjusted his jacket, returning to his seat as the trembling traitors scrambled to comprehend their fall from grace.
"This conversation is concluded," he stated. "The Veil is broken. We clean the mess, reinforce our shadows, remind the world that legends walk beside them unseen."
The screen flickered as the Elders disconnected, leaving only Arthur, Selena, and Daniel in the vast cabin.
Daniel poured himself a drink, tension easing from his shoulders. "Los Angeles next," he said. "The elections."
Arthur nodded. "Trump is the priority."
Selena raised an eyebrow. "You still believe in him?"
"He's loyal," Arthur replied simply. "I've lived long enough to know loyalty is rarer than gold, rarer than love."
The engines roared softly as the aircraft descended toward the United States. Outside, city lights glittered, oblivious to the ancient predator among them.
Arthur's voice was quiet, carrying the weight of centuries. "I don't crave a throne. I crave the freedom to walk history… to live what was stolen from me."
Selena smirked, resting her head on his shoulder. "And rewrite it along the way."
Daniel chuckled, glass raised. "To history… and to reminding them who their master truly is."
The aircraft glided silently toward destiny, the first step in reclaiming control, shattering illusions, and reminding the world that shadows still ruled.
(To be continued...)