The night in Evercrest hung heavy with a double layer of tension.
To the common citizens, the anxiety was domestic. The prediction for tomorrow's Silent Night had been confirmed: The Dream Catcher. It was a small risk anomaly, relatively harmless to adults, but potentially lethal to children whose minds were still porous to the dream realm.
Across the city, in small apartments and grand estates alike, parents were forcing their groggy children to stay awake through the night. The logic was grim but necessary: keep them exhausted now so they would sleep through the safe daylight hours of tomorrow, ensuring they could stay awake through the dangerous night to come. The city hummed with the sound of crying toddlers and exhausted parents playing games to ward off sleep.
But for those who knew the truth of the underworld, the real tension lay in the Red Light District, specifically around the Hao Pavilion.
Inside the 7th Precinct briefing room, the atmosphere was kinetic. Chief Thorne Black stood before a packed room of tactical officers and patrolmen.
"Alright people," Black said, his voice projecting authority. "Tonight should be the night we free the people of Evercrest. The Hao Pavilion has a small territory, but that doesn't mean we can just raid them like a common gang den." He gestured to Wolfe.
Wolfe stepped forward, looking tired but focused. "The people of the Hao Pavilion are not our enemy," he stated firmly. "Waitresses, small stall owners, hostesses, courtesans, even the beggars in that district—all of them are under the Pavilion's protection. But right now, they are hostages. We are operating under the confirmed intelligence that the 'Mysterious Man' who attacked Chief Black and Officer Erwin is controlling the Pavilion from the shadows."
"As you can see," Captain Céline added, stepping in, "these people had no choice but to submit to him. Our objective is simple: secure the perimeter, and help the people of the Hao Pavilion evacuate the territory once the Mysterious Man makes his move. We are there to save them, not arrest them."
BANG.
The briefing room door flew open. A breathless communications officer stood there. "Chief! Captain! Gryphon Air Support just radioed in. They have a visual on a BOLO matching the Mysterious Man! He was sighted moving at high speed across the rooftops, from the Eastern Dockworks toward the Hao Pavilion!"
Black's eyes narrowed. "You heard him! Let's move! Go, go, go!"
The room erupted into controlled chaos as officers grabbed their helmets and weapons.
Erwin fell into step beside Black as they headed for the motor pool. "I thought the Gryphon riders never woke up at night," Erwin remarked, playing the observant rookie.
Black smirked as he checked his sidearm. "I got a guy who can make them awake. Favors are a powerful currency, son."
"Sir," Céline called out over the noise of revving engines. "What about the battle mages from Duke Orion? Are they supporting the breach?"
Black stopped at the door of the armored rune-car. "We don't know when they move, or if they move. Those mages answer only to themselves, and they move whenever they damn well please. Expect them to not show up. We do this ourselves."
"Yes, sir," Céline said, suppressing a grimace.
"It's one hell of a way to open my first night shift," Erwin muttered, adjusting his tactical vest.
"Hey," Black said, slapping the side of the heavy vehicle. "You're the one who wanted this."
Céline stood by the garage bay doors as the convoy roared to life. "I'll be your eyes from Command," she yelled over the engines. "Stay safe!"
Erwin and Black climbed into the back of the lead armored transport. As the heavy door slammed shut, sealing them in with the red tactical lights, Erwin looked out the reinforced viewport at the passing city lights.
"I smell blood about to come," he whispered.
Black looked at him, his expression unreadable in the crimson gloom. "Let's hope it's not ours."
…
The Hao Pavilion was alive with the hedonistic pulse of the night. Wealthy merchants clinked glasses with the sons of low-ranking nobles, their laughter mixing with the sweet melodies of the musicians and the alluring songs of the courtesans. It was a perfect, insulated bubble of pleasure.
BOOM.
The massive front doors were blasted off their hinges, flying into the main hall and shattering a grand banquet table. The music died instantly. The dancing stopped mid-twirl. A suffocating, terrified silence descended as a figure stepped through the ruin.
It was the Veiled Man.
His aura was a physical weight, pressing down on every chest in the room. Guests gasped for air, choking on the sheer density of his presence.
Misela and Amanzio rushed down the grand staircase, their faces pale. "Master!" they cried out, throwing themselves to the floor and bowing their heads to the ground.
"Just because I am injured," Sebas roared, his voice magnified by Qi, "you dare to plot against me?!"
The customers looked around in confusion and mounting horror. 'Plot? Injured?'
Sebas scanned the room from behind his veil. He saw the terrified faces of the elite—merchants, nobles, even a few high-ranking healers. His gaze stopped on a familiar face: a fat, sweating healer cowering near the bar. It was the same man who had healed Elisa, the girl Sebas had saved months ago. An acquaintance of Erwin. 'Perfect.'
Sebas walked toward him, the crowd parting like the Red Sea. "Call your accomplices here," he demanded, staring down at the trembling man.
"I... I..." the healer stammered, tears streaming down his face.
Misela, still on the floor, looked up with tear-filled eyes, playing her part to perfection. "I don't know what you mean, Master! Please!"
Sebas didn't hesitate. In a blur of motion, he plunged his hand toward the healer's throat. With a sickening wet tear, he ripped the man's larynx out. The healer dropped dead instantly, choking on his own blood.
"I don't want you to test my patience," Sebas said coldly, dropping the piece of flesh.
Screams of pure terror erupted across the floor.
"I'll call them!" Misela shrieked, scrambling to her feet. She ran to the rotary phone on the front desk, her hands shaking violently as she dialed the emergency Watcher line. "Please! Send Chief Black to the Hao Pavilion! We are under hostage! He's killing—"
Sebas could hear the dispatcher on the other end trying to keep her on the line. He picked up a heavy porcelain plate from a nearby table and hurled it with terrifying precision. It smashed into the phone, shattering it into shrapnel.
"That's enough," he said.
He walked over to the corpse of the healer and sat on it as if it were a throne. "How about some refreshments?" he asked the frozen room. "Or maybe some music to lighten the mood?"
When no one moved, Sebas kicked a heavy oak table. It flew upward with the force of a cannonball, smashing through the reinforced ceiling of the Pavilion and creating a skylight to the dark night above. Debris rained down.
"PLAY!" he commanded.
The musicians, shaking so hard they could barely hold their instruments, began to play a disjointed, terrified tune. But nothing could bring back the mood. The party was over.
…
Inside the armored transport, the radio crackled with the frantic report. "Suspect has taken the entire building hostage! He just killed a civilian! He says he will start killing more guests for every minute Chief Black doesn't appear!"
Black's face hardened. "I'll go there now."
"Wait, Chief!" Erwin shouted, grabbing his arm. "We need to stick to the plan! We can't let him dictate the terms!"
"For me, I don't have a choice," Black said, checking his scroll case. "It's my life or the people of the Kingdom. It's either me or them. We have no other choice." He looked Erwin in the eye. "We need to create the illusion he's got me under his thumb. I assume you can make the rest of the plan work, son?"
Erwin looked at him, genuinely shocked. "I'm a rookie, sir."
Black turned to the squad of hardened SWAT officers in the truck. "Guys. His words are my words from now on. You follow his lead."
The raid team nodded in unison. "Yes, sir."
Black kicked the door open before the truck even fully stopped. "Go!" He sprinted toward the Hao Pavilion, his scrolls and guns ready on his back, a lone hero running into the fire.
Erwin watched him go, feeling a pang of guilt mixed with respect. He keyed his radio. "Alright," he commanded, his voice shifting instantly into that of a field commander. "We need to secure the perimeter. Tighten the area. Secure the stragglers around the block. I don't want a single civilian added to the casualty list. Move!"
…
A lone figure walked down the center of the street, silhouetted by the moonlight and the distant flashing lights of the police perimeter. Chief Thorne Black walked toward the open maw of the Hao Pavilion.
The streets were eerily empty. Stalls were abandoned mid-sale, steam still rising from pots. But as Black passed a small noodle stand, he paused. There was one lone customer still sitting there, calmly eating a bowl of noodles.
It was a man in a sharp suit with mismatched eyes. Gellert.
"You need to go home, son," Black said, pausing his march. "It's dangerous tonight."
Gellert didn't look up from his broth. "I'll be back home after I'm done with this," he said, his voice calm and accented.
Black sighed, shaking his head at the civilian's foolish bravery. He continued walking toward the Pavilion, keying his crystal transponder. "One man refuses to leave the area, Sector 4 noodle stall. Arrest him to safety when you're ready. Don't take no for an answer."
Seconds later, Black stepped through the shattered entrance of the Hao Pavilion.
The scene was a tableau of terror. He saw the corpse of the healer, throat torn out. Sitting atop the body like a bored king was the Mysterious Man, veiled and radiating malice. Surrounding him were the terrified hostages—nobles, merchants, staff—and on the floor, Misela and Amanzio were prostrate, trembling in fear.
Black holstered his weapon, holding his hands out to show he wasn't attacking. "You got me," he announced, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "Release the people."
Sebas tilted his head. "After making me wait for so long?" He gestured vaguely to the crowd. "How about one more person to kill? Just to balance the scales. You pick."
The crowd gasped, a collective sound of pure despair. Hundreds of eyes turned to Black, resting their entire existence on his shoulders.
Black didn't hesitate. He didn't look at the crowd. He looked straight at the veil. "Me."
Sebas paused. "You?"
"I choose me," Black stated firmly. "So let them go."
Sebas sat silent for a long moment, the tension stretching until it was painful. Then, he let out a disappointed sigh. "It's no fun... playing with a martyr." He waved his hand dismissively. "Fine. Everyone get out."
Misela immediately scrambled to her feet, her fear seemingly giving way to adrenaline. "Girls! Get the guests! Move! Now!"
She ushered the courtesans and the paralyzed guests toward the door. The dam broke, and the hostages flooded out, rushing past Black into the cool night air. Black stood like a rock in the stream, helping the elderly and the stumbling, ensuring every single person left the building.
Outside, rows of Watcher rune-cars and ambulances screeched to a halt, receiving the traumatized survivors. The hostages were safe.
Inside, the hall was now empty, save for two men.
Sebas stood up from his grisly throne. "Where do you want to be killed?" he asked. "In the open? So the people can see their hero fall?"
Black turned his back to Sebas, watching the last of the civilians reach the safety of the police line. He took a deep breath. "Can't I have one last request?"
Sebas paused. "What is it?"
Black turned back, a sad, weary smile on his face. "Drink tea with me."
…
Outside the perimeter, Erwin watched as the last ambulance pulled away.
"Erwin," a patrol officer reported, jogging up to him. "The man at the noodle stall... he's nowhere to be seen. The arrest team found an empty bowl and some coin, nothing else."
Erwin didn't blink. "Then he already left. Now, we move with the second revised plan. All units, hold the perimeter. Do not advance."
"Yes, sir," the officer said, running off.
"Squad," a voice crackled in Erwin's earpiece. "On our way to the position."
Sergeant Lomare walked up to Erwin, watching the ambulance lights fade. "How did you know?" he asked quietly. "How did you know he would demand Chief Black's life?"
Erwin kept his face neutral, adopting the persona of the brilliant detective. "Because I saw that man take his first loss to Chief Black in the sewers. A man with that kind of power... his ego is his compass. He wants to prove a point. Men like that are always predictable."
Lomare nodded slowly, buying it. "I'll move the patrol around the main streets as you said. Lock it down tight."
"Thank you, Sergeant," Erwin said.
He began to move. One by one, the pieces of his revised plan clicked into motion. He arrived at a tall commercial building adjacent to the Hao Pavilion. He climbed the fire escape, reaching the roof where a SWAT sniper team was setting up.
Even from this high vantage point, they were still lower than the towering, 30-story Hao Pavilion.
A female SWAT marksman lay prone, looking through her scope. "We need a higher vantage point," she whispered. "We won't be able to see him if he goes up to the top floor. We're losing the angle."
"He will not go to the top," Erwin stated confidently.
She looked up at him. "How can you be so sure?"
'Because that's me,' Erwin thought.
"Because," Erwin said aloud, "he won't let Chief Black stall for time by climbing thirty flights of stairs. He's arrogant, not patient."
Sure enough, through the large glass windows of the Pavilion, movement stopped.
"Contact," the spotter whispered. "15th floor. The lounge. They're stopping."
Through the scope, they could see two figures sitting down at a low table.
…
The 15th floor of the Hao Pavilion was silent, save for the soft clink of cups. Sebas poured a cup of tea for Chief Black, then one for himself. They sat across from each other at a low table, the night wind blowing through the broken window.
"Why not kill me now?" Black asked, picking up his cup with a steady hand.
"I want to make sure," Sebas said, his voice calm. "Are you the one who ordered the Watchers to raid the gang warehouses? The one who stripped them of their riches and weapons several nights ago?"
Black knew it had been Erwin's idea, a strategic masterstroke. But looking at the veiled man, he nodded. "Yes. That was me."
Sebas swirled his tea. "Then I just need to kill you, then."
Black sighed, a quiet exhalation of relief in his mind. 'Good. He believes I'm the threat. Erwin is safe.'
They drank in silence for a moment. As Black sipped, his eyes kept drifting to the veil covering the man's face.
"Was that necessary?" Sebas asked, amused. "You are about to die, and you still want to see my face?"
Black lowered his cup. "I mean... curiosity killed the cat." He offered a small, grim smile. "But should the cat be worried if he is already guaranteed to be killed?"
They drank in silence for another minute. The tension was thick, almost intimate.
"Just show me," Black said, cracking a dry joke. "I'll take it to my grave. Hahahaha."
Sebas paused. He set his cup down with a soft clink. "Very well."
He reached up and slowly peeled back the veil.
Black braced himself, but even he was not prepared. The face revealed was a ruin. It was the visage of the [V] card—skin that looked like it had been boiled and burned away, a map of raw, twisted scar tissue and agony. It was a face that had known fire intimately.
"Disturbing, isn't it?" Sebas whispered.
Black stared, his expression softening from wariness to pity. "No," he said gently. "It shows you survived."
Sebas let out a scoff, a harsh, bitter sound. "Hah. Survivors... martyrs..." He looked out the window.
"Why do these things?" Black asked. "With your power... you could do more good with your arms than with your hate."
"Who do you think sneers and mocks when their eyes meet my skin?" Sebas hissed, his voice rising. "Who do you think Fate turns its blind eye to? And lastly... who do you think is responsible for this?" He gestured to his ruined face.
Black frowned. "Who?"
Sebas laughed, a sound devoid of humor. "Don't bother. A dog of the Kingdom trying to bite its master? It will never happen."
Black stiffened. "Are you saying... the Kingdom had something to do with it?"
"The Royals," Sebas spat the word like a curse.
Black was shocked. "What?"
Sebas stood up, his plan to sow discord between the Watchers and the Throne reaching its climax. "They made me like this!" he shouted, his voice cracking with feigned, raw emotion. "They experimented on me! Tortured me like I was less than a puddle of mud! They took my life... but they also gave me this!"
He held up his scarred hands, flames licking at his fingertips.
"Who?!" Black demanded, standing up. "Who did this?!"
Sebas acted as if he had said too much, as if the rage had overtaken him. He took a step back.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
In that exact second, four runic sniper rounds, timed to perfection by Erwin's squad, converged on him from four different rooftops.
Sebas didn't dodge. He stood his ground, shifting his weight just enough so the headshot became a shoulder shot, and the heart shot became a lung shot. Four impacts slammed into him, blood spraying onto the expensive carpet. He staggered, falling back against the wall.
"NO!" Black shouted, reaching out. He wanted answers, not a dead witness.
SCREEECH!
Suddenly, a massive shape blurred through the broken window. A Gryphon, its rider clad in black, burst into the room. The rider didn't attack Sebas; he grabbed Chief Black by his tactical vest.
"What—Wait! Who?!" Black yelled as he was yanked off his feet.
The Gryphon banked hard, pulling Black out of the window and swooping down toward the main street. The rescue plan was in motion.
Black landed roughly on the pavement, surrounded immediately by medics and SWAT officers. Sergeant Lomare was shouting commands. Erwin rushed over, feigning breathlessness.
"Chief! Are you alright?"
Black pushed the medics away, staring up at the 15th floor. "I'm... I'm okay. Thank you." He looked at the broken window, his mind racing with the revelation. 'The Royals? I was too late, I didn't get the name.'
ROAAAAAR!
A sound like the earth splitting open erupted from the Hao Pavilion. The 15th floor exploded outward in a shockwave of fire and force.
The building shook. Debris rained down. And from the smoke and flames, a creature emerged. It wasn't a man anymore.
It was a Dragonoid.
Sebas, fully unleashing his Draconic form combined with the firebending mastery, stood revealed. He was massive, covered in white scales, with great leathery wings that spanned the width of the street. Fire dripped from his maw.
"Holy fuck," Sergeant Lomare whispered, stepping back. "Did he just summon a fucking dragon?"
Black stared up at the beast, locked onto its vertical, golden slit-pupils. The same eyes of the man who just had tea with him.
"No," Black whispered, a chill running down his spine. "He is the dragon."
The dragon roared, a sound of pure, unbridled power that shook the glass in every window for ten blocks.
**A/N**
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**A/N**