The low growl of the engine faded as the sleek black mana car slid into its place in the underground parking lot.
Tires screeched slightly before the vehicle stopped completely.
A door opened with quiet precision. From within stepped a tall man in a dark tailored suit. His black hair caught the dim light, the strands shifting as he adjusted his collar.
Under the glow, his eyes carried an unsettling glow of crimson, with an intensity that belonged more to a predator than a businessman.
Founder and CEO of Osborn Industries.
He shut the car door with a muted click, one hand already fishing his phone from the inner pocket of his coat.
The device lit his pale features as he pressed it to his ear.
His voice, when it came, was deep, even, carrying the calm authority of a man used to giving orders rather than receiving them.
"Mm. Yes. I saw the numbers."
He said, the faintest edge of impatience in his tone.
"Projections are steady, but they’re too steady. Stagnation kills faster than decline. I want the expansion team in Aserion to be more aggressive. No, not reckless, aggressive."
His shoes echoed sharply across the concrete as he moved toward the elevators.
On the other end, a voice stammered in response, eager to appease.
Rael listened, eyes half-lidded, pressing the elevator call button with a casual flick of his thumb.
"We move forward or we fall behind. If you can’t push the board to see that, then I’ll do it myself. And if they still resist..."
His crimson eyes narrowed faintly, the lights above flickering once, briefly.
"...replace them. One way or another."
The elevator doors slid open with a ding. Rael stepped inside, posture relaxed, voice unchanging as he continued the conversation.
"I’ll be back in the office in ten. Prepare the files for the green energy project. If our competitors think they can outpace us, they’re mistaken. Osborn Industries doesn’t follow trends. We set them."
The doors closed, muting the garage behind him.
Rael leaned back slightly, gaze focused on nothing in particular. His tone softened.
"Yes. I know the risks. That’s why I’m here, to bear them. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I didn’t build this company with blood on my hands. Literal or otherwise."
The call trailed on until the elevator reached the tenth floor. The bell chimed again, and the doors slid open.
Rael’s steps faltered.
The hallway before him was swallowed in shadow. No glow of ceiling lights, no hum of machinery. The entire floor lay silent.
His brow furrowed faintly. The phone was still pressed to his ear.
"....I’ll call you back."
—— "Wait, Mr. Osborn, before you—"
He cut the call without hesitation, sliding the phone back into his coat.
The shift was immediate. His businesslike calm shifted into something cold and sharper. The crimson in his eyes glowed faintly in the dark as he stepped forward.
The silence wasn’t empty. His nose caught it first, a metallic tang that hit the back of his throat.
A faint breath escaped him, not of fear, but recognition.
Clack... Clack... Clack...
The sound of his shoes pressed into the silence as he moved deeper. His steps were unhurried, deliberate.
For most, the growing stench would have been suffocating. For him, it was merely a confirmation.
The corridor turned, and the sight greeted him.
Scattered across the floor, collapsed against walls, sprawled over desks dragged into the hall. Limbs severed cleanly, torsos slashed open.
Blood pooled thickly across the tiles, soaking into carpets, dripping from the walls where crimson spray had painted erratic arcs.
The scene was a slaughterhouse.
Rael stopped at the threshold. His gaze lingered only briefly, then moved on.
His expression didn’t shift, not in horror, not in disgust. His breathing was even.
He walked among the corpses as if among broken furniture. His shoes left shallow prints in the blood but his posture remained composed.
His shoe pressed down on a hand that twitched faintly, cracking the bones beneath his heel as he moved past.
It was only when the hair on the back of his neck prickled that his steps halted. His crimson eyes sharpened, his body pivoting in an instant.
A blade of dark red mana bloomed into existence in his hand, curving into the form of a scythe, its edges humming with lethal energy. With no hesitation, he swung.
The air cracked with the impact as his scythe collided with another weapon, a sword formed of pure darkness.
Sparks of mana burst outward, rattling the glass of nearby offices.
The force sent him skidding backward. His body slammed through the doorway of his office, crashing into a line of desks. Wood splintered, glass shattered.
But before the momentum could throw him further. Rael twisted midair, planting a hand against the floor. He flipped, landed on both feet, and slid to a stop.
The scythe still in his grip, the crimson glow pulsing like a heartbeat. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on N0velFire.ɴet
A figure stood at the ruined entrance. Shrouded in a black hood, their presence exuded the suffocating weight.
The sword in their hand stretched unnaturally, the darkness around it twisting, writhing like a living thing.
Rael’s voice cut into the silence, calm, even.
The figure didn’t answer. Instead, they moved.
One second, they stood at the entrance. The next, they were upon him.
The darkness sword came down in a vicious arc, extending unnaturally mid-swing until it tore into the ceiling itself. The force threatened to cleave him in two.
Rael’s scythe caught the blow, the crimson mana grinding against the darkness.
The impact sent a shockwave ripping through the office, windows shattering outward, papers flying into the air like scattered feathers.
His hair whipped back in the pressure. His eyes glowed faintly red as he stared into the void beneath the hood.
This time, the figure spoke. The voice was unmistakably feminine. It was cold and sharp, dripping with contempt.
"I don’t see a reason to give my name... to a demon."
The word landed like venom.
Rael’s eyes froze for a fraction of a second. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.
"Hahahahaha... Hahah...!"
A laugh broke free, low at first, then louder, more unrestrained. It echoed against the ruined walls, drowning in madness.
The crimson in his eyes darkened, deepened, until they were closer to black.
And then, the laughter shifted.
His voice deepened, warped, no longer entirely his own.
"How did you find out?"
The voice rumbled, unnatural, echoing from somewhere deeper than his throat.
"...I thought I was hiding it so well."