As Lucien navigated the labyrinthine streets of Zenthia, he moved with the silent precision of a ghost, deftly weaving through the throngs of late-night revellers and weary travellers. The city's nocturnal symphony enveloped him—the murmur of conversations blending seamlessly with the occasional clatter of passing carriages and the distant melodies of street musicians.
Shrouded by the cloak of night, Lucien skillfully maneuvered through the shadows, his every step calculated to avoid detection. The bustling streets provided ample cover for his clandestine journey, offering an array of alcoves and darkened corners to obscure his movements. With each stride, he drew closer to his ultimate destination, his determination unwavering despite the obstacles that lay ahead.
The imposing silhouette of the Agar mansion loomed larger with each passing block, its grandeur a stark contrast to the dimly lit streets that surrounded it. Lucien's heart quickened with anticipation as he approached, the weight of his mission pressing heavily upon him.
Amidst the shadows, he noted the absence of guards—a peculiar sight that hinted at an opportune moment. "No guards... Perhaps they're on a break," he mused to himself, seizing the chance to dart towards the imposing doors and slip inside.
Once within the familiar confines of the mansion, Lucien couldn't shake off the unsettling aura that seemed to permeate its halls. Nevertheless, he steeled himself against the rising unease, his focus fixed solely on the task at hand. "Stay focused," he reminded himself silently, pushing aside any lingering doubts or apprehensions.
With determined strides, Lucien moved through the dimly lit corridors, the echo of his footsteps a solemn reminder of the urgency of his mission. As he ascended the grand staircase leading to his father's chambers, a plan began to form in his mind. "Hide in Father's room... Surprise attack," he mentally rehearsed, his thoughts crystallising into a strategy born of necessity and desperation.
With each passing moment, Lucien's resolve hardened, his determination unyielding in the face of adversity. He knew the risks inherent in his plan, but he also understood that this was his best—and perhaps only—chance to confront his father and reclaim control of his destiny.
With a final silent affirmation, Lucien pressed onward, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The stage was set, and he was ready to seize the moment that would determine the course of his fate.
"Ah, Lucien. It's been far too long,"
As Lucien entered the dimly lit chamber, his eyes fell upon a figure standing tall and commanding, exuding an aura of power and malevolence. The man before him possessed an imposing presence, his midnight-black hair framing a face marked by devilish red eyes that seemed to pierce through the shadows. A dark cape draped from his shoulders to the floor, billowing behind him like a sinister shroud.
Despite the eerie stillness of the room, Lucien couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine as he beheld the man's stoic facial features, etched with an unmistakable air of evil. Each line and contour seemed to convey a sense of menace, sending a shiver of apprehension coursing through Lucien's veins.
The man's presence seemed to fill the chamber, suffusing the air with an oppressive weight that made it difficult for Lucien to draw breath. With every step closer, he could feel the intensity of the man's gaze bore into him, as if stripping away the layers of his soul to expose his deepest fears and vulnerabilities.
"What are you doing here?" Lucien's voice quivered with surprise, his expression betraying a mix of confusion and apprehension.
"Well, isn't our new head quite full of himself," the man retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I, too, am a member of this household, remember?"
Lucien's brows furrowed as he struggled to comprehend the man's unexpected presence. "How did you—" he began, only to be swiftly interrupted.
"Find out?" the man finished his question, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "As my son, we're linked by blood. The day you obtained Starvol was the day my blood curled, well further to be more precise."
Lucien's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind reeling with the implications of his father's revelation. "For that long..." he trailed off, his voice barely a whisper.
Cassius's gaze bore into Lucien with a chilling intensity, his words laden with a sense of ominous certainty. "No, far longer," he responded cryptically, his tone sending a shiver down Lucien's spine. "Since the day I met your mother, I foresaw your destiny with Starvol, just as I have mine."
"I don't understand," Lucien admitted, his voice tinged with frustration and confusion.
Cassius's smirk widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his devilish red eyes. "You've inherited my eyes, yet you've yet to tap into their true potential," he remarked cryptically.
Lucien's brow furrowed in bewilderment. "Your eyes? I inherited Bullseye from Mother! I never inherited anything from you, not even Hemokinesis," he countered, his tone laced with frustration.
"Hmph," Cassius scoffed dismissively, waving off Lucien's protests. "Bullseye is the quirk I was born with. Hemokinesis was obtained through scientific means, but that's beside the point," he explained, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Bullseye would truly be a pathetic quirk if all it could do was see from afar," Cassius continued, his tone growing more ominous. "How could a member of the Agar family inherit such a quirk? Its true abilities—"
Before Cassius could finish his sentence, Lucien's patience snapped, his frustration boiling over. "Starvol!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the chamber.
In an instant, bright lights erupted from Lucien's hand, coalescing into the magnificent form of Starvol, its radiant energy illuminating the room with its awe-inspiring brilliance.
"Grandfather told me of your plans, what you're planning to do," Lucien asserted, his voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air. With practiced precision, he conjured a bow of shimmering energy, its ethereal form pointed squarely at Cassius.
Cassius's response was laced with a chilling nonchalance, his smirk unwavering in the face of Lucien's defiance. "Oh, please," he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. "The only reason he knows is because I allowed it. Otherwise, you wouldn't have inherited Starvol," he explained, his words carrying the weight of manipulation.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Cassius continued, his voice oozing with arrogance. "I needed Starvol sooner for my plans. Taking it from him, an experienced vet, would have been a cumbersome task. But you, on the other hand," he sneered, "you shouldn't pose much of a challenge."
As the tension between them reached its zenith, the air crackled with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the steady hum of Starvol's energy, poised to strike at Lucien's command.