The air was thick with tension as Rael and Zane made their way back to The Afterlife, the streets of Valoria still quiet in the early evening, though the weight of their recent encounter with the undead hung in the air. Zane cast a glance at Rael, but as usual, the butler's expression was unreadable, his focus unwavering as they approached the familiar building. If anything had rattled him earlier, it didn't show.
The heavy doors of The Afterlife creaked open, and Zane was immediately struck by the contrast in atmosphere. Inside, the warmth and noise of the club wrapped around them, all but drowning out the cold and tension from outside. The soft hum of conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the low thrum of music filled the air, all seemingly oblivious to the growing threat that lay beyond the walls.
Zane's eyes quickly landed on Azrael, leaning casually against the bar, an almost mischievous smile playing on his lips. Across from him, Nezera sat with her arms crossed, glaring at him over the rim of a dark drink. She appeared to be enduring his teasing with an air of long-suffering exasperation. The drink in her hand, some sort of dark wine or spirit, swirled lazily in her glass as if it too had grown tired of the exchange.
"Nezera," Azrael was saying, his voice carrying a melodious lilt of amusement. "You act like you don't enjoy my company. Admit it, I brighten your days."
Nezera rolled her eyes, the sharpness of her gaze barely softening. "The day you brighten anything is the day the sun rises in the west. And besides, your company is more of a headache than anything."
Azrael leaned in, clearly enjoying himself. "A headache? I see it as a challenge. Something to keep you on your toes. You can thank me later."
She took a measured sip from her glass and sighed. "I'll thank you when you leave me in peace."
Rael cleared his throat from the entrance, the formal tone cutting through their banter. "My lord," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "We've returned with news."
Azrael's eyes flicked toward them, his smile widening, though he didn't move from his casual posture. "Ah, Rael. Zane. Good timing as always. I was just helping Nezera appreciate the finer things in life—like patience."
Nezera shot him a look but remained silent, instead swirling the contents of her glass once more.
Rael, his tone steady and professional, began his report. "We encountered several groups of undead within the city's boundaries. Some were relatively non-hostile, though uncertain of their position. I gave them a choice—to introduce themselves to you formally or to leave the city. One faction, however, proved... uncooperative."
Zane nodded in agreement, stepping forward to speak. "Their leader didn't seem like the type to back down. He was confident—arrogant, even. Seemed like he thought he had more power than anyone else in the room."
Azrael's expression shifted subtly, the easy amusement still there but tinged with a sharper glint. "Oh? A leader that confident must be interesting," he mused, his voice light. "And yet, he doesn't know whose land he treads on."
Nezera glanced over at Azrael, raising an eyebrow. "Your city. He's trespassing, Azrael. You're going to have to deal with this eventually."
Azrael tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if Nezera's words had been a gentle breeze brushing past him. He chuckled softly, an airy, carefree sound that held just a hint of mystery. "My city?" he echoed, amusement dripping from his tone. "I think you overestimate how much stock I put in such titles. It's all just borrowed space, in the end. Besides, who am I to lay claim to everything that walks through its streets?"
Nezera didn't seem amused, but Azrael's eyes held a glint of something deeper, something that suggested he was very much aware of the situation—but was not the least bit troubled by it. His demeanor was like that of a cat watching mice scurry about, knowing full well they could be dealt with at a moment's notice, but finding the spectacle amusing enough to let it play out.
Zane, uncertain, looked between them. "So… what happens next?"
Azrael, as if reminded of the topic, straightened slightly, his smile widening again. "Ah, yes. Next. Well, we wait and see what they decide. Those who have sense will come. Those who don't… well, they'll get a different sort of welcome."
Rael inclined his head. "Their leader is dangerous," he said, his tone firm. "Though nothing I can't handle, my lord. But he's certainly more powerful than Zane at present, and his arrogance could lead to greater conflict."
Azrael waved a hand lazily, as if swatting away the concern. "Power comes and goes, Rael. What matters is how they use it—or fail to use it. Let them think they have the upper hand if they must. It changes nothing."
Nezera snorted, setting her glass down with a sharp clink. "You're far too relaxed about this, Azrael. You do realize they're testing your boundaries, right?"
Azrael's grin never faltered. "Boundaries only matter when they're crossed. So far, they're just pressing against the edges. When they push too far, they'll find out what's waiting for them."
Zane frowned, unsure how to read the situation. He could sense that Azrael had everything under control—or at least believed he did—but Rael's earlier warnings still echoed in his mind. There was something dangerous lurking in the streets, something that wouldn't just go away on its own.
"And the non-hostile undead?" Zane asked, trying to shift the conversation back to the others they had encountered. "They didn't seem like they wanted to cause trouble."
Rael's voice was firm. "Regardless of their intentions, they are trespassing. The terms are the same. Either they seek an audience with my lord and request permission to stay, or they leave. Those are the only options."
Azrael chuckled softly. "You're too kind, Rael. Always giving people a choice." He turned his gaze to Zane, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "See? Rael is quite the diplomat when he wants to be."
Rael didn't respond, his expression still unreadable, though Zane could sense the loyalty burning beneath the surface. Everything Rael did, he did for Azrael. There was no room for compromise in that loyalty, no room for error.
Nezera sighed heavily, leaning back against the bar. "Fine. Let them scurry around if that's what you want. But don't come to me when they decide to bite."
Azrael's grin widened, and he leaned closer to her again. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. You've got enough on your plate, dealing with me."
Nezera rolled her eyes but didn't respond, instead taking another measured sip from her drink.
Zane shifted, feeling a strange sense of anticipation. The tension in the city was growing, and though Azrael seemed unbothered by it, Zane couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was about to unfold.
Azrael caught Zane's eye and smiled, his expression softening slightly. "Don't worry, Zane. This is just the start of something interesting. You'll see. Sometimes, all it takes is a little pressure for things to fall into place."
Zane wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he had the distinct feeling that whatever was coming next would change everything.