"Two conditions. Non-negotiable. Then... we have a deal."

Thunder grumbled in the distance as the guard pulled the grand doors aside for him. He paused at the marble staircase and tasted the air before rain.

Pride's invisible presence coiled in the corners of his thoughts. Tell me, Blackwood... have I not exceeded your expectations?

Too early for celebration, he thought, his designer boot landing sharply on the cobblestones. David wasn't there. Tardiness had never been one of the qualities he paid for. Perhaps it was time to hire a chauffeur who understood competence.

Pride chuckled. Delightful. You shall see the fruits soon enough.

At that moment a sleek black electric sedan glided to a halt. David lurched from the driver's seat, uniform rumpled, hands already searching for the rear door.

"My apologies, sir. I encountered unforeseen technical—"

"Save it."

Machines existed to serve, not fail. First the market crash, now this. He missed the days of petrol engines, yet driving one now would provoke the eco-zealot. He wasn't in the mood for their whiny lectures about the dying polar bears or whatever else they worshipped these days. As if their opinions mattered.

"The car will handle the ride," David said, scrambling. "The forecast warns of a rough night, but systems are stable."

Blackwood slid into the leather and let the door seal the city's noise outside. Clouds massed ahead. Storms were coming, outside and otherwise.

"Destination, sir?" David asked from the front.

"Home," he said, and tasted the inevitability. Pride had made promises, and promises were to be kept.

Everything would be his, for he was the rightful heir to the Blackwoods, with prized estates spread across every metropolis on the continent.

The cost was trivial. But the rewards… oh, the rewards. Power was power.

As the car pulled through the gardens, rain began to fall. He watched City Hall shrink in the mirror and thought of the children who fancied themselves players. If they were going to pretend at espionage, they should have chosen a subtler appearance and a persona less blindingly obvious.

One in particular, the silver-haired girl, had moved through the crowd like a flare, as if gravity forgot her. He had seen her the moment she set foot on the steps. They assumed Pride's proximity to his hapless brother was happenstance, that fortune favoured them.

Children.

Every move had been planned. Pride executed like a grandmaster positioning pieces for checkmate while their opponent still learned the rules.

Pride had truly thought of everything.

Once past the main gates and the swarm of reporters, he removed his golden mask and poured himself a generous glass of Macallan 18, neat, relishing the burn.

This was power—the kind you could taste, and the kind that separated men like him from servants like David.

Noah shut his eyes briefly, savouring the satisfaction of near success as traffic began to build. Saturday nights in Alchymia were always the same. Legions of nobodies costumed as somebody.

Gentle strings sighed through the cabin, and his fingers matched the rhythm against the armrest. Strategy felt sound and success edged closer with every turn of the wheels, although the question returned.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

If Pride spoke to him here, what fingers worked Thomas like a marionette?

Sirens knifed the thought. A wall of patrol cars tore past in the opposite lane, lights strobing blue across the cabin glass. His sedan lurched, whiskey sloshed across his knuckles.

"What is the meaning of this?" Noah demanded.

David, rubbing his neck, winced as torrents overwhelmed the wipers. " They do say algorithms are unreliable at rush hour, sir, particularly in weather like this."

"Address me as Senator Blackwood." Lightning crackled, casting dark lines over Noah's face. "And do not imagine autopilot acceptable for a man in my position."

"Of course, Senator Blackwood." David risked one more look back. "Statistically it remains safer than manual—"

"You're fired. If you cannot outperform a machine, you are unnecessary."

"Now? I would rather not leave you in the rain, sir—I mean—Senator."

"Just drive," Noah rumbled.

The patrol cars vanished into the storm, direction unmistakable.

City Hall.

All games must come to an end, Pride murmured, catching the thought.

Noah grinned.

Ever the clueless Tommy, so gullible, so easily manipulated. The legacy had never belonged to both of them.

One heir, one name, his. Noah Blackwood.

He watched the rain hammer the glass roof. It was a night not unlike this, a rain-soaked evening a month and a half prior when he believed he had lost everything. Pride had arrived in that bleak hour, an open door into power few dared imagine.

He'd set two conditions. First: reelection. His approval had crumbled, critics shredded his policies, and his fool of a brother had jumped into the race. And so, the second condition…

"Good night, brother. Dream sweetly."

Pride stirred in his mind. To Aeon Square. The harvest is ripe for the taking.

Noah leaned forward. "David, Aeon Square."

The car pushed through traffic. At the square, billboards switched from ads to breaking news. The anchor's voice rattled beneath the rain.

"Death," Noah repeated under his breath. The word settled easily.

Long overdue.

Pride purred, Your brother's closing scene was… quite striking.

Screens showed a figure in a blood‑spattered suit, face blurred by automatic filters. Noah needed no image to know.

So the Whitlock boy takes the fall? And it will never point back to me?

Pride chuckled.

Three elements define murder, Blackwood: motive, opportunity, witness. You possessed none; he possessed all. Human law is flawed, yet it works.

Noah rubbed his silver beard as he listened.

That unfortunate boy is but a tool in this game, tragically unaware of his utter disconnection from the circumstances of your brother's death.

And motive? Noah asked.

Watch. Thomas, ever-eager simpleton, has already pushed this to the press. He has written his own requiem.

The screen changed to reveal grainy footage of Adrian Van Nassau, a man with tousled brown hair and striking golden eyes.

His deep voice flowed out. "Thomas Blackwood, your daughter was involved in an unfortunate incident. She's in a catatonic state. Take her home. Remember. Remember this. This is the truth, the only truth that matters."

Is this motive? Athena using her fiancé to muzzle Thomas and to shield her brother's illegal mind-tampering. Brilliant!

Noah's eyes shone with fresh respect for the web of deceit that Pride had crafted.

His paranoia served us better than he ever could. That hidden camera in his tie pin was a minor masterpiece .

The Van Nassau family's involvement means…

Their ivory tower sways, Pride answered. Chaos will unfurl like a night rose.

On the pavements the crowd froze, faces lit by fresh banners of news. Overhead, the Eye faltered and hung, as if time paused to listen.

Feel the melody? Pride's voice spilled across Noah's skin. Empires cracking open.

You would move against House Van Nassau? Exhilaration warred with fear. House Van Nassau—those who claimed divine power.

What would it cost him? Toppling House Van Nassau would be an unparalleled achievement, a legacy unclaimed by any Blackwood before. He wasn't just a step above his brother; he was meant to claim the title of the best.

A sudden frigid brush grazed his nape. He glanced outside, but nothing seemed amiss. "What was that?"

The car cleared the choke of traffic. David checked the mirror. "Forgive me, Senator? Did you speak?"

Ignore it, Pride answered smoothly. My companion returns; a parallel contest, irrelevant to you.

Your companion?

Pride's voice wavered, two notes sharing one throat. Not your concern. Focus. We have an agreement to finalise.

I accept. Noah answered, heart pounding with elation. Pride was a rare, exquisite ally, and together, they would see the very heavens bend and break.

A wise decision, Blackwood. Pride's words smoked and curled. And as for the driver, rid us of that inconvenience when you're home.

Understood, My Lord.

Noah leaned back and gripped the armrests as Pride's essence poured through him, filling each fibre with ancient darkness. A wave of euphoria surged, an awakening, a feeling of becoming something greater.

He hadn't been chosen by chance. He had been inevitable.

Inside that tide of shadow he felt it: power, both intoxicating and absolute.

Invincible.

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