Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler

"The stance of continuing cooperation," Sergio replied flatly.

Terrence blinked. "Wait—did it stop?"

"Quit yapping and put your clothes on," Sergio snapped, flicking the fan shut.

"Oh, uh—right." Terrence hurried to follow him out, still buttoning his shirt.

Not long after they left, Raymond appeared near the hotel entrance. He caught sight of the two men heading down the street together and sighed quietly. The police had already questioned him earlier; he'd explained that while Vaughn had a temper, he wouldn't have killed Axel over a petty rivalry. More likely, Vaughn had gone to confront him—nothing more.

By now, resentment would be brewing between the two men. Seeing Sergio and Terrence taking action without him, Raymond felt a flicker of unease.

"So that's how it is," he murmured, watching their backs disappear into the night. Then his expression hardened. "Fine. Maybe it's time I find better teammates anyway."

.......

Outside the Shiverstone police station, a few hours later, Axel stepped into the cold night air surrounded by uniformed officers. Walter stood waiting by the steps, his expression solemn.

"Axel, thank you for your cooperation," Walter said.

Axel gave a polite nod. "Just doing my duty."

He lifted his gaze—the moon hung bright and sharp above the frosted rooftops.

Several vehicles idled by the curb, headlights cutting through the mist. From one of them, Vince and Rosaline emerged, bundled in heavy coats.

"You little brat," Rosaline said with mock annoyance, marching straight up to him. She flicked him hard on the forehead. "You sure know how to stir up trouble."

Vince chuckled from behind her, not bothering to stop her.

Axel rubbed his forehead with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, Captain. Sorry, Rosaline. Looks like I dragged you into another mess."

The truth was, things had gone smoother than he'd dared hope. He'd fully expected the Brighthelm family to interfere somehow—but they hadn't. Clearly, the Captain and the Whisper Syndicate had been working behind the scenes.

"We didn't do much," Vince said. "If you're going to thank someone, thank Mr. Charles."

Axel turned and spotted a man standing just behind them. He wore a thick army-green cotton jacket and a gentle smile that didn't quite match the sharpness in his eyes.

"And this is…?"

"Charles," Vince introduced. "Another member of the Obsidian team."

Axel's expression shifted subtly as he heard the man's rank. A Level 5 Awakener—someone who had completed a full Profound Awakening. And yet, he wasn't the captain.

"Mr. Charles was supposed to retire this year," Vince added, "but he's decided to stay with us for a while longer."

Axel noticed the slight hesitation in Vince's tone and chose not to press further.

"Let's head back to Everton," Rosaline said. "There's something we need to go over."

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Vince nodded—but before Axel could follow, he noticed two familiar figures by the roadside: Sergio and Terrence, waiting under a streetlight.

"Go talk to your friends first," Vince said, glancing their way. "We'll wait."

The Starcrest and Blackthorn families were both among the Five Great Houses of Krythos—families that rarely mingled with outsiders.

Sergio offered a brief nod as Axel approached. "Axel, congratulations. About our cooperation—how about we keep it going?"

His tone was clipped, businesslike. Axel understood instantly. He nodded. "Of course."

He'd assumed that after what happened, the noble families would distance themselves. That they'd cut ties rather than risk offending the Brighthelms. But this—this was the best possible outcome.

Terrence grinned. "Don't forget our rematch next time, yeah?"

Then the two of them climbed into their car and drove off into the night.

Even if they still wanted to work with Axel, they had reputations to protect. Being too friendly would've looked like a deliberate slap in the Brighthelms' face.

Just as Axel turned to rejoin Vince and Rosaline, he spotted a familiar figure squatting by the curb, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Hey, old man," Axel called with a grin. "Didn't expect to see you here."

The man looked up through the haze of smoke—tired eyes, frayed coat, same irreverent smirk.

"Well, I'll be damned," Skye said. "Long time no see, kid."

They weren't blood brothers, but Axel and Sergio were closer than most of the strangers who drifted through their lives. They'd bled and laughed together in Dune; Sergio had been one of the few people Axel trusted without thinking twice. Seeing Skye in Shiverstone still jolted him.

"Promoted, huh? Doesn't look like an easy job," Skye said as he handed Axel a cold beer.

Axel learned in a few casual words that Skye had been moved to the Law Enforcement Bureau in Shiverstone as a deputy director.

"Congratulations, Skye," Axel said, sincere.

Skye shrugged, rubbing his reddened cheek with the back of his hand, gulping the beer. "Promotion makes life complicated," he said. "If I hadn't gotten that bump, I couldn't have stood in front of Vernon tonight."

Axel looked at him, a quick stab of gratitude and confusion. "You were the one who stopped him?"

Skye's grin faded to something like melancholy. "I was where I could be. The world's more complicated up there than we thought."

They sat there on the curb like two old drunks, the city's cold pressing around them. For a moment neither spoke. Then Skye asked softly, "You sure Vaughn had to die?"

Axel didn't flinch. "If he hadn't, I would have." He stood up.

Skye watched his back, the smile in his eyes folding into worry. "Brother," he said quietly, "there are a lot of forks ahead. Don't pick the wrong one."

Axel nodded once. "Understood, Skye."

Skye finished the beer in a single swallow, pushed away from the curb, and melted into the night. "I believe you," he called over his shoulder.

Axel watched him go for a long second, then squared his shoulders and walked toward the waiting Obsidian team. Skye's words lingered like smoke.

.....

In the car behind them, Vernon sat with his eyes closed, the headache of grief still raw. Fletcher, doing his best to look steady, sat opposite, hands folded.

"Fletcher," Vernon muttered finally, voice ragged. "You don't believe me, but he's hiding something. Axel killed my son to keep it hidden."

Fletcher offered the kind of comfort he had. "We'll handle this properly."

Vernon's fingers curled on the seat. "No. I'll find out myself. I will avenge my son."

They rolled through the frozen roads, the city's lights streaking past. Fletcher kept trying to soothe him, but Vernon only grew darker.

Then the driver, a figure Fletcher had assumed was a faceless employee, muttered from the wheel. "There's something off about this. Mr. Vernon should get to the bottom of it."

Fletcher frowned. The man was too talkative. Vernon's eyes brightened, like a cornered animal who'd found a new scent of blood. "You think so too?"

"I do," the driver said, voice oddly casual.

Vernon's hands tightened on the back of the seat as if the driver were the one person he could confide in. "He planned it. He begged for mercy to set the scene—then killed my boy."

Fletcher opened his mouth to snap at the driver, but Vernon was already buoyed by the confirmation. He laughed then, a brittle, manic sound. "Exactly. He'll pay."

As they drew closer to the cabin, the driver—who had been a respectable man in Fletcher's first impression—shifted in the seat. In the space of a heartbeat he altered: the voice, the cadence, the shape in the mirror. Fletcher's heart dropped as the driver's reflection became something else—curves where there had been flat planes, an alluring silhouette replacing the sober face.

"Kill him," the woman in the mirror whispered, and the words were not the driver's anymore. They slithered into Fletcher's mind: Kill him. Make him feel Vaughn's pain. Make him pay with his life.

The woman's silvery laughter mingled with Vernon's ragged gasps and guttural roars — the two sounds weaving together like some twisted medieval hymn, vibrating with madness and grief. Fletcher's vision swam.

He gagged, slammed the car door open, and stumbled out, covering his mouth and nose.