Adonis awoke to the chaotic echoes of gunshots and the roar of shouting protesters reverberating throughout the city. The morning air, thick with the scent of smoke, filled his small apartment. He could feel the weight of what was to come pressing against his chest, but he shoved it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. Today would be the day his plans set the entire city on fire.
He moved mechanically, his mind sharp and calculating. He grabbed his revolver and the explosives he had carefully prepared over the last five days. He hadn't slept well; he didn't need to. Adrenaline hummed through his veins, keeping him alert, keeping him on edge. The city of Lumina had already begun to unravel, and now it was time to push it over the edge.
Stepping out into the streets, he was greeted by the sight of angry mobs swelling in numbers, surging toward the city center. Protesters, some armed with makeshift weapons, others with firearms, moved like a tide ready to crash upon the city's heart. Above them, hastily scrawled posters and banners whipped in the wind. The people shouted in unison, their voices a torrent of anger and desperation, calling for the fall of the Council, for justice, for vengeance.
Adonis blended into the chaos, ducking into alleys when necessary, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. His face, dirt-streaked and hardened, was just another in the sea of discontent. He kept his head low as he approached the City Council building, where the real battle would begin.
The Council had already mobilized. Soldiers and enforcers were stationed at the entrances, their stances rigid, weapons drawn. Adonis played his part seamlessly, acting as one of the investigators still loyal to the cause. He joined a group of low-ranking colleagues, offering clipped words of assistance and orders to create the illusion of cooperation. His movements were deliberate but fluid, his chains of fate subtly guiding him through the maze of chaos, ensuring no stray bullet found him, no sword came too close.
At the heart of the city, near the Fountain of Nox, the crowd swelled to thousands. The air was thick with the smell of burning wood and gunpowder. The fire of rebellion had already begun to spread, buildings smoldering and collapsing under the weight of destruction. The protesters had begun their assault—what had started as a shouting match quickly descended into fists, and from fists to the echoing crack of gunfire.
Adonis, his senses heightened by his manipulation of fate, slipped through the lines of conflict like a shadow. Bullets and blades missed him by fractions of an inch, his invisible chains pulling and tugging on the strands of destiny to ensure his safety. Around him, the city descended into madness. The Council enforcers fought valiantly, but the protesters—now armed and driven by rage—had turned the streets into a battlefield.
Through it all, Adonis kept his eyes on the fountain. His objective was clear: retrieve the Heart of Nox, a relic of immense power. His memories, both his own and those of the previous Adonis, guided him toward it.
The Heart was hidden within the very structure of the fountain, encased in stone and magic. It had been tossed into the water centuries ago as part of a now-forgotten ritual. Only someone with knowledge of the relic's true nature could retrieve it. Adonis had that knowledge, and today, in the chaos and confusion, no one would notice him as he claimed it.
He reached the fountain just as the violence reached its peak. The protesters were in full revolt, and the Council was struggling to maintain order. Amidst the deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams, Adonis knelt by the water's edge, making a show of tossing a coin into the fountain—a simple act, part of the city's long-standing tradition. His hand, however, dipped deeper than anyone else's, fingers brushing the cold stone beneath the surface.
There. He felt the pulse of energy, the unmistakable thrum of power that radiated from the Heart of Nox.
With a subtle pull of fate, he snapped the chains that bound the Heart to the fountain, allowing it to slip free into his grasp. He closed his hand around the relic, feeling its weight and the cold, pulsating energy seeping into his skin. For a brief moment, time seemed to slow, the chaotic storm of violence around him dulling into a muted hum. In his hand, he held the key to his escape—and perhaps much more.
But he couldn't linger.
Adonis stood, slipping the Heart into his coat pocket, and turned his attention to the scene unfolding around him. Buildings were ablaze, collapsing under the force of the rioting crowd. Enforcers screamed as they were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the protesters. Somewhere in the distance, the core members of the Council were undoubtedly coordinating their response, unaware that the chaos was playing right into Adonis's hands.
He took a deep breath, feeling the rush of power coursing through him. Then, with a subtle tug on the chains of fate, he manipulated the threads around him. He needed a distraction, something to ensure his disappearance went unnoticed.
His eyes settled on a nearby building, its structure weakened by the fire licking at its foundation. He focused, reaching out with his mind to the threads that connected the building to the chaos around it. With a slight shift, he pulled the chains, nudging fate in just the right direction.
The building groaned, the stone and timber cracking under the weight of the flames. It swayed dangerously, the supports beginning to give way. A split second later, it collapsed with a deafening crash, sending a plume of dust and debris into the air. Several enforcers and protesters alike were caught in the collapse, their cries lost amidst the roar of destruction.
Adonis moved quickly, manipulating the chains around him to ensure he was buried just enough to fake his death, but unharmed. The rubble settled over him, dust and stone pressing against his body as he forced himself to remain still, holding his breath. Above, he could hear the muffled voices of his colleagues shouting, calling out for survivors.
The core members of the City Council—Theoros, Mistress Valeria, Varen of Flesh, and Eris of Chains—would see this as a convenient end. To them, Adonis had perished, buried in the rubble alongside his fellow enforcers. They wouldn't question it, not in the midst of the chaos. They had bigger problems to deal with.
When the coast was clear, Adonis slowly extricated himself from the debris, moving with the precision of a predator stalking its prey. He wrapped a cloth around his face, concealing his identity as he slipped through the wreckage. The protesters and enforcers alike were too focused on the raging battle to notice one more figure vanishing into the smoke.
He moved quickly, making his way to the designated meeting point. Felix, his trusted accomplice, waited for him just outside the city, by the road that led to the train station. Felix had no idea what had transpired in the heart of Lumina, but Adonis didn't care. As far as Felix knew, he was simply helping his employer escape a bad situation.
As Adonis approached, Felix looked up, concern flickering in his eyes.
"You look like you've been through hell," Felix remarked, eyeing Adonis's dirt-covered clothes and the blood staining his hands.
"Something like that," Adonis replied, his voice low. "Let's get out of here."
Felix nodded, and together they disappeared into the night, leaving behind a city engulfed in flames and chaos.