Adonis found himself suspended in a vast darkness, a chilling void that wrapped around him like a suffocating cloak. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Then, from deep within the shadows, a voice echoed, a voice he recognized—the same one that had spoken when he first awoke in this world.
"You're not supposed to be here, Kosuke Haruki... or should I say, Adonis."
His heart pounded in his chest, the dread creeping into his bones. The voice was cold, unfeeling, yet it dripped with malice. From the darkness emerged a creature, something not entirely human. It was made of shadows, yet its presence felt disturbingly real. He could see its jagged, twisted form—its eyes, glowing with hatred, bore into him.
"The original Adonis made a pact... and you've inherited his curse."
Pain erupted in his chest, sharp and unforgiving. It felt as though chains were tightening around his soul, pulling, tearing, dragging him deeper into the abyss. He gasped for air, but none came.
"You think you can escape?" the creature hissed. "You are part of something far greater than you can understand."
The agony intensified, and just as he felt himself slipping into the darkness, Adonis jerked awake, drenched in cold sweat. His heart raced, and his breathing was erratic. For a few moments, he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that it was just a dream. But the pain had been real, too real.
He sat up, rubbing his temples and forcing himself to calm down. The voice... the creature... they were linked to the original Adonis, the man whose body he now inhabited. Whatever deal the original had struck, it was still binding—and now, he had to deal with its terrifying consequences.
Adonis dragged himself to the shower, letting the cold water wash over him, grounding him. The reality of the nightmare clung to him like a second skin, but he had no time to dwell on it. He had a plan to execute, and that required a clear head.
After dressing in a simple, nondescript outfit, he left his apartment and made his way toward The Elysian Gazette building. The streets were bustling with people, their routines a comforting normalcy in contrast to the chaos swirling in his mind. As he walked, he mentally reviewed his plan. The key was to approach the manager with both subtlety and pressure—enough to rattle him without causing panic.
When he arrived at The Elysian Gazette, he flashed his City Council ID at the front desk, and within minutes, he was escorted to the office of the newspaper's manager, a man named Trenton Varnell. Varnell was a thin, sharp-featured man with calculating eyes. His office was sparse, dominated by a large desk cluttered with papers, and a single ticking clock on the wall—a gift from Wolf & Co., no doubt.
"Mr. Adonis," Varnell greeted with a forced smile. "How can I assist the City Council today?"
Adonis smiled back, though there was little warmth behind it. He kept his tone light but purposeful. "I've been reviewing some information about The Elysian Gazette and its, shall we say, other activities."
Varnell's smile faltered ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not sure what you mean."
Adonis chuckled softly, leaning forward. "I think you know exactly what I mean. Your connections with Burban Wolf, the manipulation of public opinion, the missing journalists..." He let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching Varnell's expression shift.
The manager's voice grew quieter. "What exactly are you accusing us of?"
"I'm not accusing," Adonis replied calmly. "I'm just laying out the facts. And here's the thing—you can pretend nothing is wrong, but we both know the City Council would be very interested in hearing about your little operation. Especially if something were to happen to me."
Varnell's eyes widened slightly, the weight of the implied threat sinking in. "You think you can blackmail us?"
Adonis shook his head. "Not blackmail, Mr. Varnell. Leverage. I have comrades in the Council. If anything happens to me, they'll know exactly where to look. But... I'm offering you a way out. A way to make this all work for both of us."
Varnell crossed his arms, his gaze hardening. "And what do you propose?"
Adonis leaned back, his voice steady. "You will help me stage my death. A public uprising, a tragic incident that takes my life while I'm heroically standing against corruption. You'll build the narrative, print the story, and ensure the Council and the public believe it. In return, your operation stays intact, and I disappear. Quietly."
Varnell blinked, the gears in his mind visibly turning. "And what do you get out of this?"
"Freedom," Adonis said simply. "And some funds, of course. Burban Wolf's little financial discrepancies—let's just say I'll help myself to a piece of that pie before I go."
The manager stared at him, weighing his options. He knew that if Adonis's story reached the City Council, it would spell disaster for the newspaper and its intricate web of influence.
After a long pause, Varnell sighed. "Fine. We can arrange that. But you have one month—no more."
"One month is all I need," Adonis said, rising from his seat.
Without another word, he left the building. The air outside was cool, and for the first time in a while, Adonis felt a sense of control. He had manipulated the pieces perfectly, and now the countdown to his escape had begun.
He walked through the streets, surveying the city he would soon leave behind. As he passed by shops and bustling markets, he felt a strange detachment. This place had never truly been his, just another temporary stop in his journey.
Later, he hailed a taxi, instructing the driver to take him to a nearby hotel. For the night, he needed a place to think, to refine the final details of his plan. He couldn't risk returning to his apartment with the Council likely watching his every move.
Once he reached the hotel, he checked in under a false name, and after a long, thoughtful silence, he lay on the bed, his mind spinning. The nightmare still echoed in his thoughts—the voice, the creature. There were other forces at play, ones even the Council didn't know about. And he needed to figure out how to survive them.
By morning, Adonis donned a simple disguise—a change of clothes, a hat pulled low—and left the hotel, taking a circuitous route to throw off anyone who might be watching. When he finally arrived at the City Council building, he felt an odd sense of safety.
For now, the Council was the safest place to be, but soon, not even they would be able to hold him.