Fenrir chuckled softly. "People rarely do. They see what's in front of them, not what's on the horizon. It's why Perry's plan is working so well."
Rui glanced at him. "What will you do?"
"What we always do," Fenrir replied, his tone dark. "We turn the game in our favor."
Under the cover of night, Fenrir and Rui infiltrated one of Perry's private clubs, a decadent establishment hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse. The air was thick with smoke and the murmur of hushed conversations.
They found Perry in a lavish office, surrounded by opulence. He looked up as they entered, his confident smirk faltering when he saw Fenrir.
"Fenrir," Perry said, forcing a smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Fenrir stepped forward, his presence commanding. "You've been busy, Perry. Spreading lies, inciting rebellion. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
Perry leaned back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. "Lies? I'm merely a businessman, sharing observations with the public."
Fenrir's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Let's not waste time with pretense. You know as well as I do that your actions threaten the stability of this region."
Perry shrugged. "Stability is a matter of perspective. The people deserve to know the truth."
"They deserve better than you," Fenrir said, his voice cold.
Before Perry could respond, Rui stepped forward, her presence unnervingly silent. "You should've stayed in the shadows, Perry," she said, her voice low and dangerous.
By dawn, rumors of Perry's sudden disappearance spread through New Portland. His allies scrambled to fill the void, but without his leadership, their efforts faltered.
Meanwhile, Mary Ann addressed the people in the central square, her speech clear and passionate. She explained the necessity of the tax adjustment and assured the citizens of her commitment to fairness and transparency.
Fenrir watched from the sidelines, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. Rui stood beside him, her cloak concealing her features.
"You were right," Rui said softly. "Take out the head, and the body falls apart."
Fenrir smiled faintly. "It's a lesson Perry should have remembered."
The rebellion was quelled for now, but Fenrir knew it was only a matter of time before new threats emerged. Still, he relished the challenge. After all, power was not just about holding the throne—it was about ensuring no one else could take it.
Things were supposed to calm down after what happened, but like a newlit flame emerging from beneath the ashes, the rebellion came back.
The rebellion surged back with renewed fervor. The disappearance of Rainder Perry, rather than quelling dissent, had become a rallying cry. His loyalists painted him as a martyr, a victim of Mary Ann's so-called "just" governance. Fueled by whispers of conspiracy and fanned by discontent, the rebellion managed to stir even the commoners into unrest with outrageous claims of injustice and oppression.
______
Liam Panders was a young man born into poverty. Homeless and desperate, he survived on the fringes of society, scavenging and stealing to get by. One fateful evening, hunger and frustration pushed him to take a bold risk.
He had overheard rumors of an underground establishment where wealth flowed freely—one of the secret dens rumored to be controlled by Rainder Perry's people. If he could sneak in and steal something valuable, it might mean a meal for days, or even a new beginning.
Under the cover of night, Liam slipped through an unlocked window into the sprawling cellar of a dilapidated building. The air reeked of stale alcohol and sweat, and muffled voices echoed down a long corridor.
Driven by desperation, he crept toward the sound, hoping the distraction of the gathering would allow him to plunder unnoticed.
What he stumbled upon, however, was not a rowdy celebration of debauchery but a clandestine meeting of men and women. They sat in a semicircle around a dimly lit table, their faces partially obscured by the flickering light of an oil lamp.
Liam crouched behind a stack of crates, his heart pounding as he realized the gravity of his mistake.
The men and women spoke in hushed tones at first, recounting their recent successes in rallying the masses against Mary Ann and Fenrir. But as the wine flowed, their restraint loosened, and their words grew bolder.
"Rainder was always a pompous fool," one man said, raising his glass. "He thought he was untouchable, but we were already planning to get rid of him. All Mary Ann did was speed things up for us."
A woman laughed, her voice sharp. "And she gave us the perfect excuse to stir the pot. His 'disappearance'—oh, how tragic! The commoners eat it up. They'll believe anything if it's wrapped in a good enough sob story."
"But the best part," another chimed in, "was tweaking the taxes in the third district. That was genius."
Liam's ears perked up. Taxes? He leaned closer, careful not to make a sound.
"It was supposed to be a 0.2% increase," the woman continued. "Enough to keep services running without causing too much fuss. But why settle for that when we can make a tidy profit? We pushed it up to 1% and pocketed the difference."
"All that money, hidden right under their noses," the man from before said with a grin. "If only the fools knew they're funding their own rebellion."
Liam's blood ran cold. These people weren't fighting for justice or freedom—they were using the rebellion as a front to line their own pockets. He wanted to hear more, but before he could process the gravity of the situation, a sudden creak beneath his foot betrayed his position.
The voices silenced instantly. Chairs scraped against the floor as the group stood, scanning the room. Liam tried to slip away, but a burly man grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out from behind the crates.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" the woman sneered. "A little rat."
Liam struggled, but the man holding him tightened his grip, forcing him to his knees before the group.
"Who are you?" the leader demanded. "Who sent you?"
"N-no one!" Liam stammered. "I swear, I'm just a nobody. I was only trying to find something to eat!"
"Do you take us for fools?" the leader growled. "You've been listening in. What did you hear?"
Liam hesitated, unsure whether to confess or lie. His silence earned him a sharp blow to the head, and the world spun as he fell to the ground.
When Liam regained consciousness, he found himself bound to a pole in a damp, windowless room. The rebellion leaders stood before him, their expressions ranging from amused to menacing.
"You've got two choices, kid," the leader said, crouching to meet Liam's eye. "Option one: you join us. Help us spread the word, stir the people, and work for the cause. There's good money in it—more than you've ever seen in your miserable life."
Liam swallowed hard, his mind racing. "And... option two?"
The leader's grin was as cold as death. "You disappear. Permanently."
Liam's heart sank. He knew what they meant. If he refused, they wouldn't hesitate to silence him forever. His mind flashed to the faces of the commoners outside, people who believed in this rebellion, oblivious to the greed and corruption at its core. He wanted to expose the truth, but how? Bound and at their mercy, he had no leverage.
"Well?" the woman asked, tapping her foot impatiently. "What'll it be, boy?"
Liam licked his dry lips, stalling for time. "If I... if I help you, what exactly do you want me to do?"
The leader chuckled. "Smart lad. We'll start you small—spreading rumors, passing messages, things like that. Earn your keep, and you'll be rewarded handsomely."
"But cross us," the woman added with a dark smile, "and you won't get a second chance."
Liam nodded slowly, forcing himself to appear resigned. "I'll do it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The group exchanged satisfied glances. "Good choice," the leader said, cutting Liam's bindings. "Welcome to the rebellion."
As Liam rubbed his sore wrists, his mind churned with plans. He didn't want to help these people—not really. But if he played along, maybe he could gather more information, find a way to expose them, and bring their schemes to light.
For now, he would survive. But deep down, Liam vowed to himself that he would not let these traitors destroy the fragile peace that Mary Ann and Fenrir had built.
Rui moved through the cobbled streets of New Portland's third district, her newly human skin concealed beneath a dark cloak. The district buzzed with life, though a faint tension hung in the air. Merchants haggled in crowded markets, children played in narrow alleys, and groups of commoners gathered to grumble about the recent tax hike.
Rui's sharp senses picked up snippets of conversation as she walked.
"Can you believe it? They promised better times, and here we are, paying double taxes!"
"Mary Ann's no different than the last lot—sweet words, but only greed behind them."
Rui's lips thinned. The accusations against Mary Ann stung her pride, even though she herself had struggled to reconcile her loyalty to Fenrir with the changes around her.
The heart of the third district revealed the source of the unrest. A crude sign outside a local tax office declared the new rate in bold letters: 2%. Rui's sharp mind recalled the council's discussions—Mary Ann had approved only a minor increase of 0.2%.
"Something isn't right," Rui muttered, stepping closer to observe the crowd. Angry townsfolk surrounded the building, their voices a cacophony of outrage.
"They're bleeding us dry!" one man yelled.
"We can barely feed our families, and now this?" another woman added.
Rui clenched her fists. Her first instinct was to step forward, to confront the gathered people and correct the falsehoods. But as she approached, a hush fell over the crowd, and their eyes turned toward her.
"Who are you?" one man demanded. His gaze narrowed as he took in her cloaked figure. "Another one of Mary Ann's lackeys?"
Rui resisted the urge to bristle. Instead, she raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I'm here to tell you the truth. This increase in taxes wasn't authorized by Lady Mary Ann—someone else is manipulating the system for their gain."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, but it was laced with skepticism.
"Oh, so it's a conspiracy now?" a woman scoffed. "Why should we believe you?"
"You're just trying to cover for her!" another shouted.