The night over Nayga was draped in violet haze. Inside a marble-white mansion standing on the eastern cliffs, Liam Shaw walked alone.
The soft thuds of his steps echoed across polished floors. The air was scented with aged cedar and faint smoke from perfumed candles. His personal brand of peace.
He climbed the stairs that curled upward like a serpent around an ancient trunk.
The banister was smooth as silk beneath his palm.
The mansion was mostly dark, darkness that spoke of money, power and paranoia. Portraits of people he didn't recognize lined the walls. Their oil-painted eyes glinted in candlelight like quiet witnesses.
At the top, a hall stretched before him, empty but for the rhythmic ticking of an ornate clock. He turned into the bathing chamber.
A vast room tiled in black stone. The ceiling was brilliantly painted with constellations that shimmered when light touched the water.
Steam rose from the bath already drawn by invisible servants. Liam loosened his tie, peeled off his vest, his shirt and finally stepped under the shower calmly.
Water hit his body like soft rain from the gods. He tilted his head back, exhaling. For a moment, it was peace of warm droplets tracing the scars on his chest.
The sound drowning his thoughts. But it never lasted long.
As he reached for the shampoo bottle, something bothered its way up with a reminder.
A name always which was caging him from moving freely. It was like he was dancing by someone else's strings....
He squeezed the gel between his palms and rubbed it into his hair. His reflection blurred by mist on the glass. "Soul Cinder…." he whispered tasting the word chewing air.
An artifact very sacred to exist in mortal hands. It was not any normal alloy.
It was flame shaped into permanence.
A fragment of Heaven's Greed, The Sovereign Calamity.... one of the Sect Gods ever documented and one of the few that responded.
The Soul Cinder had been used only once before in history to merge all Haztek's Chalout, divine runes that formed the skeleton of creation itself, mentioned briefly in the forbidden 'O Beyou' scripture.
The last time it activated, it is said that almost the whole cosmos burned out in pressure of that much energy.
He rinsed his hair, water ran colored silver down from his arms and muttered,
"If anyone finds it…."
He didn't finish the sentence.
Because the answer was simple,
If he didn't find the Soul Cinder in time, Acurus Tiama would kill him without any hesitation.
The thought made him chuckle, though it sounded hollow. He leaned against the shower wall, water cascading over his shoulders.
He was no stranger to death but the way Acurus Tiama killed was worse than dying.
Your mind inverted, memories peeled like layers of paint until even your pain forgot itself. It was like being cut in piece by piece and keep regenerating instead of dying.
Liam closed his eyes with patience.
He had built a network to protect the artifact. Spies, false vaults and ten decoys across the continent.
Yet lately, strange things kept happening. Doors half-open. Footsteps where none should be. He often felt like someone was spectating him from a distance.
One night, he was sleeping and gaurds were busy guarding the mansion. Unfortunately, nature's call came. When he was heading towards the toilet, he felt paranormal presence.
For once, he thought it is his own hallucination. After a long, he heard something screaming outside loudly. He was busy peeing, but he was still calm.
He went out and checked all windows first. There was a biscuit half eaten, for sure, the bite marks were of a human. He began to feel these paranormal presence and acts for last two days.
He had his suspicions that someone close to him is trying to do these.
A servant recently began to behave too loyal which she wasn't before.
A friend who asked few questions about his life, religion and passion.
Or maybe.… his own shadow?
He laughed softly, shaking his head.
"Deaths don't scare me anymore. What terrifies me is how eagerly the living pretend they are not next in line." he murmured.
The shampoo slid down the drain. He stepped out, grabbed a towel and stood before the wide mirror. Steam parted slowly, revealing his face. Reflecting both intellect and exhaustion.
He whispered to his reflection, "If you're listening, I hope you're patient. You will only get one chance at a time. Hope you stay by me."
Then he smiled faintly. A businessman's smile, dangerous and precise and blew out the candles.
....
A strange mix of modern light and ancient moon. Harriet walked lazily down the rain-slick street keeping hands in his pockets and murmuring a random folk-song.
The streets of Nayga glowed with purple lamps and chrome towers. A beauty that hid decay beneath.
Suddenly, a sound came out of nowhere which bothered him.
From the end of the avenue, the ground split open. Out came a giant Spartan zombie, bronze armor very tarnished, flesh draped over ancient bone.
Its red eyes burned like molten coins. A broken spear hung from its back and the stench of death carried through the night.
Harriet smirked. "Finally, something interesting."
The undead roared, swinging its colossal shield through an abandoned car, sending metal and glass scattering across the road.
The place was empty except for Harriet. Standing in the middle of the road, moonlight touching his hair smoothly.
He raised his voice, ragebaiting, "Hey, helmet-head! You missed me!"
The Spartan turned, enraged, slamming the shield down, cracking the street concrete. The shockwave nearly blew Harriet backward but he grinned wider.
"Yeah, that's the spirit."
Within moments, Imperial Guards arrived.
Silver-armored soldiers moving in coordinated formation.
"Citizen! Step back! We'll handle this!" one shouted.
Harriet shrugged. "Nah. I have enough time to kill it."
Before they could protest, he thrust his hand forward. A circle of blue glyphs forming mid-air. Water spiraled from his palm, condensing into a lance of liquid.
The guards exchanged a look but said nothing. They already know about Magecraft.
The Spartan zombie charged. Soldiers moved like one body. Three darting left, two circling right.
Blades rang against rotted bronze fella. Their teamwork was frighteningly precise, attacks flowing into another like choreography from centuries of war.
Harriet dashed between them, laughing. He flicked his fingers, sending jets of water slicing through the creature's tendons. "Come on, big guy! You hit like a wet loaf!"
The zombie howled and swung its massive shield. Harriet leapt backward, raised both hands and summoned a torrent.
" I have seen an ant with better posture than your stance. Look at you…. even death wasn't even impressed enough to return the policy."
Harriet trash talks while jumping up and preparing next move.
Water swirled into a spiral drill. It collided with the shield in a deafening crash, breaking through its center. Rusted chunks fell to the street like heavy rain.
Seizing the opening, soldiers surged forward. Their imperial blades glew with blue light. They drove their swords deep into the creature's exposed chest, pinning it against the wreckage of a building.
The zombie Spartan gave one last roar, shaking the entire block until a single soldier jumped in and gave a destructive punch creating a large crater in its heart.
The monster went silent.
Harriet exhaled, stretching. "I had a hard workout today."
One soldier saluted him. "Thank you, sir. You fight like a madman."
Harriet grinned. "Nah. I fight like I'm bored."
Harriet looked once more at the glowing skyline. Then walked off into the neon haze.
Harriet walked down the quiet lane.
He reached unto his red coat, pulling out his black top hat, brushing the dust off its rim before placing it neatly on his head. The motion was deliberate — like returning a crown to its rightful place.
"Perfect." he muttered, fixing the angle in a nearby window's reflection. "Back to being the charming gentleman again."
Harriet stuffed his hands back into his pockets, whistling as he walked toward the distant mansion lights.
Then he stopped mid-step, a small spark of memory crossed his mind.
"Ah, right." he said to himself, frowning. "Liam Shaw called for a meeting. Me and Albert both." He sighed, tilting his hat lower against the drizzle. "Hopefully that muscle-head remembers. He always forgets half the important things and remembers everything useless."
He chuckled softly, kicking a pebble into the gutter. The roads were empty except for the low hum of passing airtrams above.
He saw.... He saw.... that Sun is rising....
Harriet straightened his coat and kept walking. "Guess it's time for another long night."