The Master was on his way to meet Veer.
His footsteps echoed down the long, metallic hallway as the dim lights flickered overhead.
He opened the door with a quiet creak, his voice calm but sharp:
"You did well."
In his hand was a ring — silver, steel, and plain to the eye, yet it held authority that could bend any order.
He handed it over.
"Here… is the ring. From now, you're the 9th Commander."
Veer bowed slightly as he took it — but before he could speak, the door burst open.
The Master walked straight in and kicked Veer square in the chest.
Veer crashed to the floor, gasping.
"Are you daydreaming again?"
He coughed, slowly pushing himself back up to his knees.
He knew better than to answer back.
Master was unpredictable — a man impossible to read, one who could smile and strike in the same breath.
If he could be compared to an animal, he'd be a chameleon, always blending into any situation, any role.
"Let's go. It's time."
He stood, brushing off his coat, and led Veer into a dimly lit room where a projector hummed in the background.
A meeting was about to begin.
Master sat in the central chair like a king on a throne, legs crossed, coffee steaming beside him.
The large screen in front of them showed eight black panels — shadowed faces of unseen people.
The meeting began.
As the topic of money came up, Veer froze — he didn't have the report ready.
"Money?" Master said, his tone deceptively calm.
He leaned back, smirking.
"Oh right… I forgot."
The voices on the screen erupted — shouting, accusing, demanding.
Master's eyes narrowed.
"Enough," he said, voice deep and heavy.
"If anyone has a problem, you're welcome to face me in person."
The silence that followed was chilling.
No one dared to reply.
When the call ended, Veer spoke softly,
"Master, how can we bring the money? The deadline's here and they still haven't paid."
Master poured himself coffee, took a sip, and handed the mug to Veer — even though he knew Veer hated coffee.
"Let's go meet the leader of SQUARE."
Veer snorted. "That's a hilarious name."
As they walked toward the exit, Veer's eyes caught a file lying open on the desk.
It was labeled "Special Case: LORDS."
Inside, clipped to the first page, was a photo of Taarush.
A chill ran through him.
Why was that file in Master's possession?
Master pulled on his coat, then grabbed a Batman mask from the shelf and put it on casually.
He always treated life like a joke, even when things got serious.
"Listen, Veer," he said, tone playful but hiding an edge.
"Don't forget this."
"Yes, sir."
"As long as it's fun, I'm in.
If not… I'm out."
Veer blinked. "What the f— … Noted, sir."
As they walked out, Veer muttered under his breath,
This creep Master has finally lost his mind… Oh God, save me.