A commotion rose through the emptied-out dance floor from the Red Circle's many servers. They were standing in the sidelines, in the shadows, waiting for Bruce Vane's speech to end, but now, everyone had disappeared.
Casimir took the steps up to the performance stage, getting back to the mic. Spotlights tracked his movements.
When he looked down, he saw not the faces of the villains he had served throughout the years, but his precious staff, all those he had taken from the streets, from brothels, from dens of addiction, from pits of debt, and given them training and purpose.
They looked up at him for answers, for to them, he was their guiding light in a criminal underworld where darkness snuffed out even the smallest flickers of hope.
