Part 11: The Pantheon's Shadow
Meanwhile, miles above, in the sterile, oppressive heart of the Chronos Syndicate Headquarters, the air crackled with controlled rage. Sheena, having delivered her report of Black's presumed demise in the Dead City, stood before Dante, the Syndicate's cold, calculating leader. His face, etched with impatience, betrayed no emotion, but the tension in the room was palpable.
"You let him escape, Sheena," Dante's voice was a low growl, devoid of any warmth. "A prime asset, vanished. Conveniently, into the one place even our sensors cannot penetrate."
"The Dead City is a graveyard, Leader," Sheena retorted, her voice holding a rare hint of defiance. "No one survives its embrace. The Demon Man consumes all."
Dante leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it is merely a convenient myth for those who lack the will to breach it. No matter." He pressed a button on his console. A holographic image shimmered into existence: a detailed map of the Ghost Terrace, the Dead City a black void at its center. "The energy signature, however faint, was significant. This 'Black Zombie' is a direct link to the original project. He is a key. And keys are not to be lost."
A glowing figure stepped out of the shadows, his presence commanding, almost radiant. This was Ormazd.
Ormazd was a vision of controlled power. His physique was athletic, his movements fluid, almost artistic. He wore sleek, form-fitting armor that seemed to shimmer with an inner light. His face, strikingly handsome, was framed by long, flowing dark hair, and his eyes, a piercing gold, held an unwavering intensity. He was not a brute like Sheena, but a strategist, a hunter of divine precision, rumored to possess esoteric powers.
"Sheena's quarry has merely gone to ground, Dante," Ormazd's voice was smooth, resonant, almost hypnotic. "A rat fleeing into a well. But even in the deepest darkness, light can penetrate. And I am the light."
Dante nodded, a rare, thin smile gracing his lips. "Ormazd. Your reputation precedes you. You understand the gravity of this retrieval."
"He is a testament to the past failures of primitive science," Ormazd stated, his golden eyes flickering towards the holographic image of the Dead City. "A crude awakening of immense power. He must be brought into the fold, or extinguished. And his… friends… will be valuable assets for analysis, or for leverage." He glanced at Sheena, a hint of disdain in his gaze. "A direct assault, a simple chase, was… inefficient. I prefer a more elegant hunt."
Sheena's tail lashed, her growl rumbling. She respected Ormazd's power, but his arrogance grated on her.
"Then the hunt is yours, Ormazd," Dante declared, his voice cold and final. "Go. Retrieve the Black Zombie. And if he proves too… unmanageable… for the usual methods, then destroy him. No more loose ends. Bring me the alien essence, no matter the cost."
Ormazd gave a slight, confident bow. "As you command, Lord Dante. The hunt for the Black Zombie… has only just begun." He turned and departed, his presence leaving an unsettling stillness in his wake.
Sheena watched him go, a shiver running down her spine. Ormazd was dangerous in a way she wasn't. He was cunning, manipulative, and had an almost supernatural ability to get into his target's mind. Black had just barely escaped her brute force. How would he fare against a hunter who could play him like a fiddle?