The Fallen One's earpiece crackles as Splint's voice filters through, cool and tired:
Splint (on comm):
"Got something for you. Cain wasn't working alone—figures. Names, faces, deeds, offshore accounts. They're building a web and he's the spider's vomit."
The Fallen One doesn't answer immediately.
He watches Jest Cain, who's now crawling toward his phone with shaking fingers.
The Fallen One stomps it.
Fallen One (calmly):
"Change of plans."
He kneels beside Cain, dragging him up by the collar like a sack of old guilt.
Fallen One:
"Guess what, Cain? Today's your lucky day."
(leans closer, voice almost gentle)
"We're gonna give you land."
Jest blinks, confused. Hope flickers.
Fallen One (smiling faintly):
"Not her land. Something better."
(pulls out a data chip from his pocket—Splint's transmission just uploaded)
"An entire island."
(leans in, deadly soft)
"Remote. Cold. Uninhabited. Surrounded by abandoned mines. Drone Surveillance 24/7. Congratulations—you're the proud owner of your own prison."
Jest starts to stammer something, but the Fallen One is already dragging him to the edge of the balcony where a hovercraft silently arrives.
The Fallen One (to the drone/hovercraft):
"He's ready for extraction. Island designation: 'Forgotten One.' Make sure he never forgets."
He dusts his hands off like throwing away trash.
Splint's voice returns:
Splint (snorting):
"Harsh. You always had a flair for dramatic exile."
The Fallen One:
"It's not exile. It's containment.
The rest of the list?"
Splint:
"Already being rounded up. I'll keep them frozen 'til you're ready."
The Fallen One:
"Good."
(As he exhales, he Pauses. Looking out over on the neon skyline.)