Aran sat in his hideout, the cold dawn light barely piercing through the small window. The fog from the docks had followed him, and the city outside seemed to be wrapped in an eerie silence. The Puppeteer's plan was in motion, but Aran's mind was already working through how he could derail it before it gained momentum. Every detail from the meeting last night echoed in his mind: the council members, the talk of chaos, the mysterious figure issuing commands.
He knew time was running out. The Puppeteer's coup would begin at dawn, and if he didn't act now, the city would be thrown into chaos, making it nearly impossible to regain control. Aran needed to spread doubt—quickly—and the best way to do that was to strike at the heart of the Puppeteer's influence.
He pulled out a small, folded map from his pocket. He had marked the locations where the Puppeteer's lieutenants operated, including the council members he had seen the previous night. Aran knew these council members were vulnerable. They were the weak links, caught between loyalty to the Puppeteer and fear for their own lives. If he could get to them before the Puppeteer's forces mobilized, he might be able to turn them—or at least paralyze them with fear and indecision.
The first target was a councilman named Darian—a wealthy merchant who had risen to power through the Puppeteer's influence. According to Loryn's information, Darian was the most conflicted of the council members. His wealth and status came from his connections to the Puppeteer, but he had always been uneasy about the darker side of the organization's operations.
Aran moved swiftly through the city streets, keeping to the shadows as the city began to wake. The councilman's estate was in the richer part of the city, nestled behind high walls and guarded by mercenaries who doubled as household staff. As he approached, Aran used the fog to his advantage, scaling the side wall unnoticed. He slipped over the top and into the estate's lush gardens.
Moving silently, he crept toward the house, his senses on high alert. Darian would be in his study at this hour, going over the day's paperwork before heading to the Council chambers. Aran had watched the man's routines for days, knowing he would be vulnerable now, alone and unguarded.
He reached the window of the study and peered inside. Sure enough, Darian was seated at his desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and ledgers, his brow furrowed with worry. Aran could see the tension in the man's posture—Darian knew something was coming, even if he didn't understand the full scope of it.
Aran slipped inside, his movements so silent that Darian didn't even look up until Aran was standing right behind him.
"Councilman Darian," Aran said in a low, calm voice.
Darian froze, his quill dropping from his hand. His eyes widened in shock as he spun around, only to find Aran standing there, his face shrouded in the shadows of his hood.
"Who—who are you?" Darian stammered, his voice trembling.
"Someone who knows you're in deep with the wrong people," Aran replied, stepping closer. "And someone who can help you get out."
Darian's face paled. "I—I don't know what you're talking about."
Aran leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Puppeteer's plan is in motion. You've been a part of it for far too long, but there's still time to turn things around. You can save yourself, Darian, but only if you act now."
Darian's hands shook as he backed away from the desk, his eyes darting toward the door as though he was considering running. "I can't... they'll kill me if I betray them. You don't understand."
"I understand more than you think," Aran said coldly. "You've sold your loyalty to the Puppeteer, but you still have a choice. When the chaos begins, the Puppeteer will abandon you the moment you become a liability. You won't survive the fallout, Darian. But if you help me, I can protect you."
Darian swallowed hard, his face slick with sweat. "Protect me? How?"
Aran's eyes locked onto Darian's, his gaze unwavering. "By ensuring the Puppeteer falls before you do. I need information. Who are the key players? Where are the other council members?"
Darian hesitated, fear and desperation warring on his face. Aran could see the man's internal struggle. He was caught between his fear of the Puppeteer and his fear of being caught in the crossfire.
Finally, Darian slumped into his chair, defeated. "The others… they're not like me. They believe in the Puppeteer's vision. I only went along with it because I had no choice."
"And now you do," Aran said sharply. "Tell me what you know, or this city will burn, and you'll burn with it."
Darian took a deep breath, nodding shakily. "The other council members… they're meeting this morning. They've been summoned to a private estate outside the city. The Puppeteer's lieutenant is going to brief them on the next stage of the plan."
Aran's eyes narrowed. "Where is this estate?"
"It's on the outskirts of the city, near the old ruins," Darian replied. "They use it for meetings when they need to stay off the radar. It's heavily guarded."
Aran nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. This was the break he needed. If he could intercept the meeting, he could sow discord among the council members, making them doubt their loyalty to the Puppeteer. He didn't need them all to turn—just enough to fracture the group.
"Good," Aran said, turning toward the window. "Stay here. Don't leave, and don't contact anyone. If the Puppeteer suspects you're wavering, you won't live to see tomorrow."
Darian nodded, his face a mask of fear and uncertainty. Aran slipped out the window, disappearing into the fog once more.
---
As the morning sun began to rise, Aran made his way to the outskirts of the city. The estate Darian had mentioned was tucked away near the old ruins, a secluded area that had once been home to ancient, forgotten families. Now, it served as the perfect meeting place for secretive dealings.
Aran scouted the area, noting the positions of the guards stationed around the perimeter. They were professionals, just like the ones at the warehouse, but Aran had faced worse. He needed to get inside and find a way to turn the council members against each other before the Puppeteer's plan could move forward.
Slipping through the shadows, Aran approached the estate, his mind focused on the task ahead. The seeds of doubt had already been planted with Darian, but now it was time to make them grow.
As he reached the outer wall, Aran smiled grimly to himself. The game was far from over, and he still had plenty of moves left to make.