The room was soaked in golden light, the kind of warm glow where rich men loved to carry out most of their corrupt acts.
Velvet curtains draped the windows and a round crystal table worth more than most people's houses in the center of the room.
Mr. Greens leaned back in his chair, slowly puffing out smoke from his mouth like an expert as he twirled the cigar in his hand around his fingers. His eyes were focused on the large hologramic screen across the room where Bitcoin charts fluctuated within heartbeats.
Greens smirked as he made a bigger puff "I keep telling you. This shit is gonna crash harder than my fourth marriage, no kidding. All this talk about NFT and blockchain nonsense, it's just another bubble."
The man across from him, Vincent Corelli, snorted. He was also a top-dog businessman in the city. He was not as wealthy as Greens but just as corrupt. "And I keep telling you Greens, you're too old school. Bitcoin's the new gold. In a blink, it doubles"
Greens chuckled, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Let's make a deal then. If it goes up again by next month, I swear I'll give you fifteen thousand grands"
Corelli leaned forward, his voice thick with amusement and excitement. "Please say that again but this time slowly so I can put it on record! Y'know I don't mess around when it comes to money"
Laughter echoed in the room. A few guards outside the wide double doors chuckled too, their rifles resting lazily on their shoulders. Their jobs were so simple, just stay put at the gate and get 100 grands per week.
"You know, all jokes aside," Greens said, leaning in, "it's not just about the money. It's about controlling the future. Crypto, AI, surveillance... this world is ours to mold." He clenched his fists as if crushing the world
Corelli raised his glass. "To the future."
But the clink never came.
A soft thud.
And then another.
Then there was silence. I
It was unusual. He couldn't even hear a single movement outside anymore. Like the world came to an halt
Greens frowned. "What the hell?"
The double doors creaked.
And then they slammed open but no one was standing there.
Outside, the guards who were happily idling away were already dead. Their bodies slumped in unnatural positions, black knives buried cleanly into their foreheads, like black thorns from hell.
Corelli stood. Alerted. He yanked his pistol from under his blazer. "Greens, something's wrong."
Greens pulled his own revolver, eyes darting. "I know....this is weird!" They could feel someone's presence but no one was in the room
The lights flickered.
The shadows on the wall danced. Wait.....the shadows danced? How's that possible?
Then they twisted into something solid.
A boy dressed in a black hoodie and turtle-necked jacket which covered most of his eyes stepped forward like a whisper breaking through glass.
Blood dropped from the sleek black Katana which he held in his hands.
The hood draped low, casting his face in partial shadow. But those eyes....those eyes were what made him look freaky, not even his dressing. one golden, one a deep violet, not purple like royalty but like bruised heavens.
A faint shimmer like lightning wrapped itself around his silhouette like a ghostly aura.
Corelli blinked.
He never got to do it again.
In a flash, the boy already was in front of him.
One clean swipe of the sword was all it took.
Corelli's head hit the floor a second before his body.
Greens screamed, stumbling backward and knocking over the whiskey.
The boy didn't move.
The only sound was the soft dripping of blood from his blade.
"Please... please!" Greens shouted. "I don't know who you are, but I can pay! Anything! Just... don't kill me."
The boy tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, his golden eye glowing. "Anything?"
"Thirty million! Right now. Offshore accounts, crypto, cash, name it!"
The boy chucked softly. "Thirty million for your life. You must be very fond of it."
Greens nodded like a desperate dog. "Yes! Yes, I can give you double if you want... I ....."
"Fine."
Within minutes, the transfer was already completed and Greens could swear he finally read the boy's expression. Excitement perhaps?
He turned, sheath slung across his back, and began to walk away.
Greens exhaled, trembling. Slowly, he reached under the table and gripped the small shotgun hidden beneath.
"You made a mistake turning your back on me, you freak," he whispered, teeth clenched.
He stood up, leveled the barrel, and pulled the trigger.
Boom.
Or rather, it should've been.
The moment Greens fired, The boy vanished.
Then reappeared behind him.
With no sound, no scream, Greens dropped on the ground, lifeless.
A clean gash from his collarbone to his hip.
His final expression was disbelief.
As if weeping for the two dead men, rain started falling heavily.
Hard.
It slammed against the tall glass windows like a grieving symphony.
In the distance, the bells of Saint Alex's Catholic Church began to toll. A slow, solemn chime that seemed to echo inside Zaviel's chest.
He stood motionless among the corpses, blade dripping, hood soaked.
The choir began to sing.
A haunting harmony. Latin words. Distant, beautiful.
And for some reason, in that blood-soaked moment... he felt calm. Almost as if that sound reminded him of something he once lost. A purpose. He sighed...
Not out of happiness.
Not victory.
Just... stillness.
Like someone else had taken over.
Like someone or something was watching through his eyes.
And smiling...