Inspector Laevatein's Office, The Night Following the Press Release
Laevatein sat slumped in her chair, the picture of weary frustration. She leaned back, but there was no sign of relaxation in her posture; the muscles of her forehead were tightly knotted in a permanent scowl.
The press release had been issued that morning, and the Eye Tower Tragedy was now officially classified as a coup d'état followed by Aslan's suicide. The case was closed, filed away under a lie.
She knew the inconsistencies were glaring: the erased CCTV footage, the mysterious guest named 'Daniel' from Santino, and the physical impossibility of Baron Frey dying in the ballroom while Aslan ended his life on the helipad. Her mind raced, replaying her interrogation of Erebos like a broken record.
"Good morning, Inspector Laevatein. I am Erebos, representing the house of Santino." A professional smile had graced his lips, but his eyes had remained as cold and sharp as a winter's night.
Laevatein had gestured to the seat across from her, her gaze frozen, refusing to be intimidated. "Sit down, Mr. Erebos. We have several questions regarding a banquet at the Eye Tower that never actually took place."
Erebos had sat with effortless elegance, offering a fleeting glance at the Lieutenant standing by the desk with a data tablet. He radiated an aura of total unconcern, as if neither the police nor their evidence could touch him.
"Of course, Inspector. Mr. Santino deeply regrets the tragedy that befell Baron Frey and former General Aslan. We are prepared to cooperate fully to clear Santino's name from this unfortunate incident," Erebos had said, his tone ringing with a sincerity that was, in itself, a masterpiece of deception.
"Cooperate?" Laevatein had sneered, her voice cutting. "Our team found a banquet invitation at the reception desk referring to Mr. Santino. Explain how your master attended an event where dozens were slaughtered, and why you failed to report it."
Erebos had offered a thin smile before producing a thick envelope from the inner pocket of his suit. He placed it on the desk; it was a duplicate invitation. An alibi, meticulously crafted by Ren.
"We confirm the invitation was received. However, Mr. Santino was unwell and refused to be represented by anyone. Therefore, neither Mr. Santino nor any proxy was present at the Eye Tower that day."
Laevatein had snatched the invitation, scrutinizing the seal and the grain of the paper. Beside her, the Lieutenant confirmed its authenticity against their forensic data. Laevatein had to fight to keep the fury from showing in her tensed jaw.
"Fine," Laevatein hissed. She pulled out a data tablet and slid it toward Erebos. "Even if Mr. Santino wasn't there, our team found an entry in the guest book: 'Daniel from Santino'."
Erebos's face had registered a look of mild, convincing confusion. He took the tablet, studied the name for a moment, and then shook his head slowly.
"Inspector, I have already stated that my master refused to be represented. Furthermore, we have no member by that name. I can provide our entire payroll registry for your inspection," he had said, his tone shifting to one of mild defensiveness.
Laevatein stared at him, searching for a crack. "Our team also discovered that CCTV footage within a two-kilometer radius was professionally wiped. What if Santino carried out this massive erasure to cover his tracks?"
Erebos had let out a soft, polite laugh that bordered on condescending. "Inspector, Mr. Santino runs a logistics network, not a hacking ring. We sell transport and delivery services, not technological warfare. If I recall correctly, wasn't it the Baron's family who specialized in tech? Something called Aegis..." He tilted his head. "We are happy to provide you with the data of every digital vendor Santino has ever worked with to prove we have no connection to such perversions of technology."
Erebos had parried every blow perfectly: the 'original' invitation to prove his absence, the dismissal of the fictitious 'Daniel,' and the redirection of the hacking suspicion back toward the victims themselves.
"We know Mr. Santino and Baron Frey were associates, and that Mr. Santino's business has seen significant growth. I cannot be certain, Inspector, but if all this was fabricated to frame Santino using invalid evidence like this fake name, then it is a grave smear against his reputation."
He had successfully flipped the narrative, casting Santino as the victim of a conspiracy.
Laevatein had tapped the table sharply. "Very well, Mr. Erebos. I will expect that list of digital vendors. You are free to go, for now."
Erebos stood, his professional smile returning, wider this time. "Of course, Inspector. Thank you for your time. We are always happy to help."
As the memory faded, Inspector Laevatein slammed her fist onto her desk, a stark contrast to her usual composed image. "He's lying!"
The crash and her shout shattered the silence of the night.
"The Santino representative looks suspicious, but his alibi is airtight. He severed every link between Santino, the crime scene, and the data breach," she muttered to herself, pacing the room.
She slumped back into her chair. "Santino as the injured party? Character assassination? Give me a break. Santino is a bottom-feeding mafia boss who lives on bribes. He must have done something with that blood money!"
She knew the case was being closed not for a lack of evidence, but for a surplus of cash. Money flowing upward, polluting every step of justice. Inspector Laevatein was forced to accept this tactical defeat, shackled by the very system she loathed. The official investigation was dead, leaving her with nothing but a deep, burning frustration.
Santino Cluster, Night
On the other side of the city, behind the gates of the luxurious Santino estate, the power play ended not with money or politics, but with an old, jagged loyalty.
Erebos was on his knees. The silence between them was heavy with the weight of a regret that had taken root eighteen years ago.
"Young Master Ren," he repeated, his voice raspy and choked with suppressed pain. "I have come to beg for your forgiveness."
Ren did not move. His faint smile had vanished, replaced by a cold, evaluative stare. He had never given his name to Santino or his men. This confirmation merely solidified the suspicions he had held since arriving at the mafia's doorstep.
"I was a Knight of the Marble Kingdom, Young Master. When you were only a year old, I was sent personally by King Henry—your father—in secret to the Orchard district. My mission was to protect you and Lady Luna, for he had to leave Orchard to claim the vacant throne." He no longer cared for his proud posture; he was a failed knight before his prince.
Erebos looked up slightly, his sharp eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He began to speak, his story flowing like a series of agonizing failures.
"When the arrest of Lady Luna occurred, when you were five, I was there. I swear to you, I fought. But the team sent that day were the Queen's own—their numbers and preparation far exceeded my own. I failed to protect you both. It was a shameful, wretched failure."
Erebos bowed his head low, guilt thick in his voice. "That arrest marked my incompetence. Because of it, I cast aside my title and retreated. I became a commoner, spending five years scavenging the streets of the Marble Kingdom, desperate for any trace of you."
"But the search was hollow," he continued, his voice breaking. "By the time I found the orphanage where you had been exiled, it was too late. Santino had already sold you. Once again... I had lost you."
Silence hung in the air. Ren stood motionless, letting every word of the confession carve the truth of the past into his mind.
Erebos raised his head again, his eyes now burning with a quiet vengeance. "After the fall of the Marble Kingdom, I heard Santino was looking for bodyguards. I applied and was chosen. My initial goal was to become his closest confidant so I could kill him—to avenge your suffering."
"And then," Erebos took a ragged breath, his gaze fixing on Ren's composed figure. "Four months ago, Santino brought you home. At first, I wasn't certain. The 'Young Master Ren' I remembered had silver hair and crimson eyes. But the curve of your face, your extraordinary bearing... and then, one night, I saw you remove those lenses. When those red retinas appeared, I knew. You truly are Young Master Ren."
Erebos pressed his forehead to the floor, a gesture of total submission. "I have failed you time and time again. I beg for your mercy. If I must pay with my life, I am ready."
Ren let the confession sink into the silence of the room. After a pause that felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. His voice was low, stripped of all emotion.
"Erebos. I remember that name, vaguely, from my mother," Ren whispered. "So, Henry did provide a guard like that, after all?"
He took several steps forward, stopping directly in front of the kneeling man.
"Before I left for the Eye Tower, I called for you. I laid out my plan, including the worst-case scenario: a summons from the police. In that moment, I was testing you." Ren leaned in slightly. "That is why I told you to create the duplicate invitation. Why I trained you to answer the questions the police would throw at you. Our chances of success were fifty-fifty, at best."
Ren took a breath, his gaze cold and definitive.
"You did not betray me. And you executed the plan perfectly."
It wasn't an emotional pardon, but a professional validation that meant the world to a failed knight. It was a new bond, sealed not by blood, but by tested loyalty.
"Erebos,"
Ren's right hand, the one not bound by the sling, was steady and cold as he drew his black blade from its harness. The blade, which swallowed the light rather than reflecting it, seemed poised to strike Erebos down where he knelt.