"Let us depart."
The cold wind stirred as Velmuth's final words dissolved into silence.
A subtle distortion shimmered over his form. His youthful guise melted away, revealing a tall, cloaked figure clad entirely in black. A pale, featureless mask covered his face, blank and emotionless, absent even the hollows of eyes.
The six figures behind him knelt in silent obedience.
"As you will it, my lord," Sebastian said, his voice low and reverent.
They moved westward, guided by the map. After hours, their destination emerged: a decrepit warehouse beneath a rocky hill, steeped in foul secrecy. Crates and barred windows hinted at slavery, narcotics, forbidden relics, perhaps worse.
Velmuth raised a hand.
The group halted.
Two guards lounged by the entrance, lit by flickering torchlight.
"How long do we have to guard this cursed place?" one groaned.
"It's not like anyone's stupid enough to come snooping around."
"Idiot," the other snapped.
"There are organizations far stronger than us. We're being paid to watch for a reason. Stay alert."
The first sighed and shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever—"
A sudden rustle.
The guard froze.
"Did you hear that?"
Silence answered.
"Hey, I said—" He turned, eyes widening.
His companion stood rigid, lifeless.
A shadow peeled itself from the night.
"W-who... who are you? What did you do to him?!"
No answer, only a whisper of steel.
Blood painted the wall. Both fell without a sound.
Above them, on a small ridge, Velmuth and his five shadowed agents observed in silence.
"So... this is all the defense they've stationed for a den like this?" Velmuth mused.
Sebastian gave a short nod.
"Their overconfidence will be their undoing, my lord."
They descended and entered the warehouse, finding it mostly abandoned. Dust-covered boxes and old chains littered the floor. In the center lay a hidden trapdoor, iron-bound and stained with dried blood.
Velmuth glanced down.
"It seems the true operations lie underground."
"As suspected, my lord," Sebastian replied.
They descended.
The tunnels below were far more sinister. Dimly lit by faint red glyphs and flickering candles, the narrow stone halls bore signs of ancient rites. Blood splashes, occult diagrams, and walls scratched with strange symbols marked their descent. Hollow screams echoed faintly down the corridors.
They split to cover more ground.
The agents moved with precision, silently eliminating scattered cultists and acolytes. Blades flickered through the dark, leaving behind only crimson silence.
Velmuth moved deeper alone, his presence unnoticed even by the lingering shadows.
At last, he arrived at a lavishly guarded chamber, now deserted.
Chests of gold, enchanted trinkets, and gemstones glimmered like forgotten sins.
"Hoarded treasure," he murmured.
"A fitting fund for the academy."
Amidst the spoils, a dull shimmer caught his eye. He picked up a ring etched in runes.
"A summoning ring, powered by mana," he mused.
"An artifact. But unnecessary. I already command six agents beyond what this could conjure."
A soft, broken cry pulled his attention.
"...Help..."
He turned. The sound came from a narrow hallway to the side. Following it, he arrived at a rusted iron gate.
Behind it, huddled in chains, were ten captives. Pale, and starved.
"Mama... Papa... I'm hungry..." a small boy whimpered.
The man beside him, voice cracking, whispered,
"Just wait a little longer, my son. The cultists will return soon. I'll ask them for food."
"Really?"
"Yes. Just wait..."
Velmuth stepped forward.
The father's eyes widened.
"They're here..."
He dropped to his knees.
"Please, sir, give us food. Even just for my child. I beg you!"
Others joined in, their voices frail and desperate.
"Please... we'll die of starvation..."
"Anything, just something to eat..."
Velmuth blinked behind his mask.
They think I'm one of them.
Well, I suppose that's not surprising, given the mask.
Velmuth raised his hand.
Mana coalesced in the air. Trays of warm, simple food formed, nourishing, abundant, untouched by corruption.
The captives recoiled in terror.
"No, please! Don't kill us!" the father cried, shielding his son.
Velmuth paused.
Then, in a calm, steady voice:
"Worry not. I am simply giving what you asked for."
The aroma reached them. Slowly, fear turned to disbelief, then tears.
"Thank you... thank you, kind sir!"
"May I ask your name?"
He stood silent. Then a low, detached chuckle escaped behind the mask.
"A name...?" he echoed.
"Right. If I'm to move in the dark, I'll need one worthy of a name."
He turned slightly toward them.
"You may call me... Nocturne."
The word lingered like mist, soft, cold, unforgettable.
Scene: Moriarty
The dim corridor twisted beneath the earth like a serpent. Faint torchlight flickered along damp walls, casting long shadows that seemed to breathe.
Footsteps echoed, measured, calm, unhurried.
Moriarty walked alone, hands in his coat pockets. A faint metallic click accompanied each step. His expression was unreadable. Eyes sharp behind thin spectacles.
Two cultists spotted him at a branching hallway, their features tightening with suspicion.
"Hey! Who are you? What do you think you're doing here?"
Moriarty said nothing.
One reached for a dagger, but he was too slow.
The softest click came from Moriarty's pocket as he gripped the cold steel of his concealed weapon. Before the cultists could react, the quiet cough of a silenced shot rang out.
One stumbled, blinking. Blood bloomed from his chest.
"W-what... what is that...?"
A second shot followed. The other collapsed mid-turn.
A robed mage appeared nearby, sensing something wrong.
"You dare defy the Order? Barrier!" he shouted, slamming his hand to the ground.
A dome of shimmering mana erupted around him.
Moriarty didn't flinch. He adjusted his aim slightly and fired again.
The bullet struck the barrier. A crack echoed like a hammer against glass. Fractures raced across the surface. The shield shattered in a burst of light.
The mage's eyes widened.
"No... that's impossible—"
The final shot pierced his chest. He dropped to the floor, smoke curling from the wound.
Moriarty exhaled slowly.
"Unbelievable… that this body holds such power," he murmured.
"All thanks to our lord. The one who gave us this strength."
He moved deeper, stepping over corpses without pause.
Eventually, he entered a side chamber, dimly lit, stinking of alchemical fumes and blood. Cultists crowded around stained tables. Wires, runes, and tubes pulsed with eerie light.
Moriarty raised his weapon and fired.
Panic erupted. One cultist fell screaming. Another slumped over a beaker. He moved swiftly and methodically, each shot ending a fragment of cruelty.
Then, he saw it.
At the center of the room, suspended in enchanted chains, a malformed creature twitched weakly. A chimera, stitched from torsos and limbs of humans and beasts. It wheezed, one mouth gurgling blood.
"P-please..." one voice rasped.
"Kill... us..."
Moriarty stared, lips thinning.
"So this is why they enslaved innocents. To turn them into living experiments."
He raised his weapon. The shot ended it instantly. The creature slumped forward, still at last.
Blood splattered onto the tools and onto a faintly human face that whispered,
"T... thank you..."
The words echoed in his mind, striking something unexpected. He should have felt nothing. Yet the voice... the gratitude... it cracked something beneath the cold precision.
A flash, brief and raw, crossed his consciousness. He staggered slightly.
"...What am I feeling right now?" he wondered. A faint sting behind his eyes. A weight in his chest.
He clenched his jaw.
"This... emotion... is it sympathy? Remorse? I shouldn't feel anything."
And yet...
More flickers, children crying, firelight, a sensation of falling, burned through his mind.
"The moment I awakened in this world, I knew my name but not who I was. Or what I was."
He looked down at his hand. Steady, strong, unfamiliar.
"But this body... it isn't entirely mine."
"Perhaps, in time, I'll understand. Perhaps I'll learn the truth of my soul, and how I came to inhabit this vessel forged by our master."
Moriarty turned from the blood-soaked lab.
"But for now... I serve."
He reloaded calmly, eyes steeled once more, and vanished into the shadows.