The air in Brightshade hung heavy with the scent of dust and decay, the once-proud city still bearing the scars of neglect. The Vengeful One walked with her usual commanding grace, her black cloak trailing behind her and her onyx horns gleaming faintly in the sunlight. At her side, her unneeded but dutiful security detail trailed closely—Lian, sharp and disciplined in her Marine regalia, and Sergeant Dusterr, newly promoted, his armor still carrying the sheen of someone eager to prove himself.
As they moved through the crumbling streets, occasional shouts of recognition rang out from the Marines scattered about their duties. Some straightened immediately, saluting with precision, while others offered a respectful but more casual wave. The Vengeful One responded with a faint nod, her crimson eyes flicking toward them, acknowledging their loyalty without a word.
"They adore you, my Lady," Lian remarked quietly, her tone carrying a faint hint of pride.
"As they should," The Vengeful One replied smoothly, her voice calm but laced with a quiet authority. "They understand the value of what I've brought them. That is why they thrive, unlike… these."
She gestured faintly toward the townsfolk visible through the gaps between the buildings. Most stood at a distance, their gaunt faces marked with equal parts fear and disdain. Their hollow gazes followed her movements, but none dared approach. Whispers carried through the air, their voices too low to catch the words but heavy enough with meaning to feel the weight of their disapproval.
Dusterr, walking a half-step behind, tightened his jaw, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his blade. "My Lady, their disrespect is unacceptable. Should I—"
"No," she interrupted, her lips curving into a faint, almost amused smirk. "Let them simmer in their contempt for now. It's the last refuge of those who cling to their weakness. It will make breaking them all the more satisfying when they finally realize resistance is pointless."
Lian glanced sideways at her queen, her brow furrowing slightly. "Break them, my Lady? Do you not think they might come to respect you without… harsher measures?"
The Vengeful One tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes glinting as she met Lian's gaze. "Respect without fear is a fleeting thing, Lian. Let them disdain me now. In time, they'll either see my strength and rise alongside it, or they'll crumble under it. Either way, Brightshade will become something worthy of its name."
They continued down the cracked cobblestone street, the weight of her presence heavy in the air. As they passed a group of Marines repairing a collapsed wall, the soldiers caught a glimpse of her and straightened, their salutes sharp and reverent.
"It's her," one of them whispered. "She's actually walking through this mess. Can you believe it?"
"Of course I can," another replied, their tone hushed but filled with admiration. "She's the reason we're still standing."
The Vengeful One heard them, of course, though she gave no outward acknowledgment. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as her sharp ears picked up another sound—a faint commotion coming from an alley just ahead. Her pace slowed, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly.
Lian noticed the shift immediately, her hand moving to her blade. "My Lady?"
"A disturbance," she said simply, her tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of menace. "Wait here. Both of you."
Dusterr hesitated, glancing toward the alley. "With all due respect, my Lady, it would be unwise to—"
She silenced him with a single glance, her crimson eyes flashing. "I said, wait here. I won't repeat myself."
Dusterr fell silent, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Yes, my Lady."
The Vengeful One stepped toward the alley, her boots clicking softly against the cobblestones. The shadows seemed to deepen as she moved further in, the light of the main street fading behind her. The muffled sound of voices grew clearer—a mix of anger and desperation.
Her lips curved into a small, cold smile. Let's see what this is.
As she disappeared into the alley, Lian and Dusterr exchanged uneasy glances but held their positions as ordered, the weight of her command pressing down on them as surely as her presence. The shadows of the alley clung tightly to its walls, the faint light of the setting sun barely reaching the narrow space where two figures stood locked in a tense exchange. One, a wiry man with jittery movements, clutched a small pouch tightly against his chest. His ragged clothing and sunken cheeks told the story of desperation. The other, a bulkier figure in a worn leather coat, loomed over him, his voice low and sharp.
"You're late," the dealer growled, his hand resting on the hilt of a crude blade strapped to his side. "Again. I don't care what excuses you've got. You don't pay, you don't leave."
The buyer stammered, clutching the pouch tighter. "I—I just need a little more time! I swear, I'll have the gold by next week. Please, just—"
"Next week? You're already a month overdue, you worthless piece of—"
The dealer's tirade was cut short by the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the cobblestones. Both men froze, their heads snapping toward the mouth of the alley as a figure emerged from the shadows, her presence suffocating and inescapable.
The Vengeful One stepped into view, her crimson eyes glowing faintly as they swept over the scene. Her lips curved into a wicked smirk, the kind that sent shivers down spines and froze blood in veins.
"My, my," she drawled, her voice smooth and laced with menace. "What do we have here? A little unsanctioned commerce in my city? How quaint."
The dealer's eyes widened in recognition, his face paling as he took an instinctive step back. The buyer wasn't far behind, his trembling hands dropping the pouch as he stumbled over his words. "L-Lady! I mean, Your Majesty, I—this isn't—"
"Quiet," she said, her voice cold and sharp enough to cut through steel. Both men flinched as if struck, their breaths coming in shallow gasps.
The dealer's survival instincts kicked in first. Without a word, he spun on his heel and bolted toward the opposite end of the alley. The buyer, panicking, dropped to his knees in an attempt to grovel but thought better of it and scrambled to flee as well.
"How rude," she murmured, her smirk widening as she raised a hand. From the shadows around her, dark tendrils erupted, writhing like serpents before lashing out with terrifying speed. The dealer barely made it a few steps before one of the tentacles coiled around his torso, lifting him off the ground with ease. The buyer didn't fare much better, a second tendril snagging him by the ankle and dragging him back, kicking and screaming, toward her.
She took a deliberate step forward, her boots clicking ominously against the stone. The tendrils tightened around their struggling forms as she approached, her crimson eyes alight with cruel amusement.
"Leaving already?" she asked, her tone mockingly sweet. "But we were just getting acquainted."
The dealer thrashed violently, his voice trembling with fear. "P-please, my Lady! I didn't know—it was just business! I swear, I didn't mean—"
"Business?" she interrupted, her smirk fading into a cold, unreadable expression. "This is how you conduct business in my city? By preying on the desperate? By undermining the order I've worked so hard to establish?"
Her voice dropped, low and dangerous, as she leaned closer to the man struggling in her grasp. "Do you think me blind? Or merely indifferent?"
The buyer whimpered, tears streaming down his face as he pleaded. "I—I didn't have a choice! Please, I didn't mean any harm!"
"Didn't mean any harm," she repeated, her tone icy as she tilted her head. "Funny how harm seems to follow those who claim innocence."
The tendrils tightened further, eliciting strangled cries from both men. She turned her gaze back to the dealer, her crimson eyes narrowing as her smirk returned, colder and sharper than before.
"You know, I might have let this slide if you'd simply groveled properly. But no… you ran. That's the thing about fear—it makes fools of even the most seasoned scoundrels."
She straightened, her dark aura pulsating faintly as the shadows around her grew deeper, swallowing the light entirely. "Tell me, gentlemen… how do you think this ends?"
The dealer's mouth opened and closed, no words escaping as he stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. The buyer sobbed openly, his body trembling as the tendrils held him firmly in place.
She sighed, almost theatrically, as if their silence disappointed her. "No answers? A shame. I was hoping for something creative."
Her gaze flicked between them, calculating. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the tendrils shifted, suspending them both higher in the air. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, laced with malice.
"Let me make something clear. This is my city. Every brick, every shadow, every life—it belongs to me. You don't operate here without my permission. Ever."
Her smirk returned, more wicked than ever, as she added, "Now, let's discuss what happens to those who forget that."
The alley grew colder, darker, as The Vengeful One's shadowy miasma enveloped the buyer, twisting and writhing like living smoke. He screamed, his voice raw and panicked, the sound echoing off the crumbling walls. His eyes widened, pupils dilated with terror, as the miasma seeped into his mind, weaving cruel and vivid illusions that only he could see.
He clawed at the air, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "No! No, please! Stop it!" he shrieked, his body convulsing as the horrifying visions unfolded before him.
The illusions showed him scenes of unimaginable torment. First, a brutish enforcer dragging him into the shadows, his limbs snapping one by one as his pleas went ignored. Then, a cruel tribunal of faceless figures mocking him as they stripped him of dignity and life. Finally, the most harrowing of all—a gang of marauders descending on his family, their laughter drowning out the screams of his loved ones. Each scene felt real, the pain and fear tearing through him like serrated knives.
"Please! Stop! Make it stop!" he wailed, tears streaming down his face as he thrashed against the tendrils holding him aloft.
The Vengeful One watched impassively, her crimson eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. Her miasma churned around her, dark tendrils pulsing with an unnatural rhythm as the buyer's screams grew more desperate.
"What you see now," she said, her voice smooth and detached, "is not my doing, but the natural order of this world. These are the consequences you would face if anyone else had caught you. Thieves, bandits, even the desperate would tear you apart without a second thought. I merely remind you of what you already know."
His screams continued, his body convulsing as the visions reached their crescendo. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the miasma dissipated, leaving him trembling and gasping for air. His body sagged in the tendrils' grip, his face pale and drenched with sweat.
She let him hang there for a moment longer, her gaze cold and unyielding. "Let this be a lesson. The next time I see you engaging in something so… beneath even the gutter rats of my city, I won't show you what might happen. I'll show you what I will do."
With a dismissive wave, the tendrils released him, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling over his own limbs as he fled the alley without a backward glance. His ragged sobs echoed faintly as he disappeared into the distance.
The Vengeful One watched him go, her expression unreadable until the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Pathetic," she muttered under her breath before turning her attention to the dealer still suspended in her grasp.
The man's face was a mask of terror, his breath hitching as her crimson eyes locked onto his. She dropped him abruptly, and he hit the ground with a heavy thud, groaning in pain. Before he could scramble away, she crouched down to meet his gaze, her armor creaking softly as she leaned in close.
Her smile widened, cruel and sharp, her fangs glinting faintly in the dim light. "Now, let's talk business, shall we?" she purred, her voice dripping with malice.
The dealer's lips quivered, his eyes darting wildly as if searching for an escape, but her presence held him rooted to the spot. Her aura was suffocating, her shadows curling around her like predators waiting to strike.
"Y-you don't understand—" he began, but she silenced him with a raised hand.
"Oh, I understand perfectly," she said, her tone calm but with an edge that cut deep. "You think this alley, this city, operates under your rules. You think you can exploit desperation and fear without consequence. Let me make something abundantly clear. This city is mine. Every coin, every deal, every breath taken here—mine. If you wish to continue your little enterprise, you'll do so under my conditions."
He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "And… if I refuse?"
Her smile widened further, her crimson eyes narrowing as her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Then your screams will make his sound like lullabies. Choose carefully."
The dealer stared at her, his face pale and slick with sweat, before nodding frantically. "I—I'll do whatever you say. Just… please."
She rose to her full height, her shadows dissipating slightly as she loomed over him. "Smart choice. Now, get up. We have much to discuss."
The man scrambled to his feet, trembling but compliant, as her dark smile lingered, promising that whatever came next would be anything but merciful. The dealer stumbled back slightly as he scrambled to steady himself, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The oppressive weight of The Vengeful One's presence lingered in the air, and her crimson eyes bore into him, sharp and unyielding. His lips quivered as he tried to gather himself, but it was clear that fear still had its claws in him.
"Start talking," she said smoothly, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable edge. She folded her arms across her armored chest, her cloak shifting slightly with the motion. "Who are you, really? And don't waste my time with lies."
The man hesitated, his gaze darting toward the exit of the alley before flicking back to her. He knew better than to attempt an escape. Swallowing hard, he straightened just enough to maintain some semblance of dignity.
"My name's Kethan," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "But… most people in this part of the city know me as 'Shade.' I run… or, well, ran, an organization. A network, really. We call ourselves 'Hades.'"
The alley remained cloaked in shadow, the oppressive atmosphere lingering as The Vengeful One stood towering over the dealer, her crimson eyes boring into him with an intensity that made his knees weak. Despite the tremor in his voice, he managed to croak out, "My name's… Kethan."
She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint, amused smile. "Kethan, is it? Fitting enough for a man crawling through the dirt of my city. Tell me, Kethan, what is it you do? Besides scurrying from shadow to shadow like a rat?"
Kethan swallowed hard, his voice faltering but gaining strength as he spoke. "I… I run an underground organization. We call it 'Hades.' Before you came, it was my dream to rule the underworld here—to control the flow of everything beneath the surface. Trade, contraband, secrets. It all passed through me."
Her smile widened, a glint of intrigue flashing in her eyes. "Hades, is it? Ambitious. Tell me, Kethan, how far did this dream take you before I arrived?"
His gaze darted nervously to the ground before meeting hers again, hesitant but defiant. "Far enough to matter, but not far enough to rule. I was working my way up, gaining control. Then you came, and everything changed. People feared you more than they feared me—or anyone else. It crushed everything I was building."
A faint hum resonated in her mind as Great Sage chimed in, its calm voice slipping seamlessly into her thoughts.
"An underground organization such as Hades could be invaluable, my Lady. Secretly sponsoring a crime syndicate would allow you to control illegal trade, gather intelligence, and eliminate opposition without direct involvement. Additionally, it provides a useful scapegoat for any controversial actions."
She smirked, her expression shifting from amused to downright pleased. "Now, we're getting somewhere," she said aloud, her tone sending a visible shiver through Kethan.
Kethan blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing. "Y-you're not going to shut me down? Arrest me?"
Her laugh was low and dark, echoing softly in the narrow alley. "Why would I waste something with so much potential? You, Kethan, are far more useful as a tool than as a corpse. Let me tell you how this will work."
She stepped closer, her aura growing heavier as her shadows coiled faintly around her boots. "You'll continue to run Hades, but under my rule. You'll use your opposition to fuel my role as queen fighting the 'criminal underground.' Every rival you dispose of is one less problem for me, and it allows you to grow faster, stronger. In return, I ensure you thrive, and we both get what we want."
Kethan stared at her, his shock plain on his face. "You're… serious? You'd let me keep Hades, as long as I serve you?"
Her smirk deepened as she reached into the pouch at her side, pulling out a glittering stack of gold coins. She let the coins jingle faintly in her hand, catching the dim light and reflecting it in his wide eyes. "Serious enough to invest. This should suffice for a family of three to live lavishly for two years without lifting a finger. Consider it a sign of good faith."
His eyes widened further as she extended her hand, the coins glinting temptingly. "You're giving me this?"
"No, Kethan," she said, her voice dripping with mock patience. "I'm entrusting you with this. Understand the difference. This is your seed money. Use it wisely, or it will be the last thing you hold before your untimely end."
She dropped the coins into his trembling hands, the weight of them grounding him in the reality of her offer. Before he could respond, she reached into her cloak and retrieved a small seal, intricately designed with her emblem—a coiled serpent encircling a crimson flame. She placed it in his hand alongside the gold.
"This is your key to me. If you ever need an audience, present this to my guards, and they'll let you through. But understand this, Kethan. I do not tolerate failure, and I do not entertain incompetence. You will rise, or you will fall. There is no middle ground."
Kethan clutched the seal and coins, his breathing uneven as her words sank in. He nodded fervently, his previous terror replaced by a glimmer of ambition. "Yes, my Lady. I'll build Hades into something worthy of your rule. I swear it."
Her smirk returned, colder and sharper than ever. "Good. Start by creating a banner of your own. If you're to operate under my domain, I'll need to know which of your people deserve pardons when the time comes."
He blinked, her words carrying an edge that made his throat tighten. "Pardons?"
She leaned in slightly, her voice a dangerous whisper. "For when your rivals are disposed of, of course. You'll find it easier to expand without dead weight dragging you down. Make no mistake, Kethan—this isn't mercy. It's practicality."
Straightening, she turned, her cloak swirling around her as she began to walk away. "Now go, Kethan. You have work to do. And remember… I'm always watching."
Kethan stood frozen for a moment before bowing deeply, his voice trembling with newfound determination. "Thank you, my Lady. You won't regret this."
She didn't turn back, her crimson eyes glinting as she disappeared into the shadows, her mind already turning to how she would use her newest pawn to tighten her grip on Brightshade and beyond. The Goddess's will was becoming reality as the narrow alley behind her faded into the shadows, and The Vengeful One stepped back into the broken light of Brightshade's streets. Her crimson eyes, still glowing faintly from the encounter, scanned the area with a cool detachment. She adjusted the clasp of her cloak and strode toward her waiting guards, her footsteps sharp and deliberate.
Lian and Sergeant Dusterr stood at attention, though the unease on their faces was plain. Lian's brow furrowed as she glanced at her queen, her eyes darting to the alley behind her before settling cautiously on her face.
"My Lady," Lian began, her tone careful but tinged with curiosity, "is everything all right? We heard… something. Screams. Was there a threat?"
The Vengeful One gave her a faint smile, though the cold gleam in her eyes remained. "Nothing worth your concern, Grand Commandant. A minor disturbance. I handled it."
Dusterr, shifting slightly in his armor, dared to press further. "If it's something the guard needs to address, we could—"
"It's not," she interrupted smoothly, her voice calm but with an edge that brooked no argument. "As I said, it's handled."
The two exchanged a brief glance, clearly uneasy but unwilling to challenge her further. Lian's shoulders relaxed slightly as she nodded. "Of course, my Lady. If there's anything you need from us…"
"I need you both focused on the task at hand," The Vengeful One said, her tone softening slightly as she gestured toward the streets ahead. "We're surveying this city, not chasing shadows. Keep your eyes sharp and your minds on what matters. Brightshade's potential hinges on more than a single alley."
Her words carried a finality that left no room for further questions. Lian straightened, her expression resolute as she replied, "Understood, my Lady."
Dusterr nodded quickly, his earlier curiosity replaced with dutiful silence. "Yes, my Lady."
Without another word, she continued walking, her cloak billowing slightly with the breeze. The two guards fell into step behind her, their presence more symbolic than necessary as her aura alone seemed to part the sparse crowds in their path.
Though her attention was fixed on the crumbling streets and ruined buildings ahead, her mind lingered briefly on the encounter. Kethan. Hades. She could almost hear the pieces of her plans falling into place, each move setting the stage for something greater.
As they passed a group of Marines clearing debris from a collapsed shop, she cast a glance toward Lian, her tone suddenly conversational. "Tell me, Grand Commandant, how do you think the people will react to our efforts here? Will they embrace change, or will they cling to their broken ways?"
Lian hesitated for a moment, her thoughts clearly turning over the question carefully. "I think, my Lady, that many will resist at first. Fear of the unknown makes people desperate to hold onto what they have, even if it's nothing. But… I also believe they'll come around. They always do when they see the results of your vision."
The Vengeful One allowed a small, approving smile. "Good. And if they don't?"
"Then we show them, my Lady," Lian said, her voice steady with resolve. "We lead by example. We prove that your way is the only way forward."
Dusterr nodded in agreement, his voice quieter but equally firm. "They'll see, my Lady. They always do."
Her smile widened slightly, the sharpness returning to her eyes as she looked ahead. "Indeed, they will. Let's ensure there's no room for doubt."
And with that, they continued their march through the city, the weight of her authority pressing down on every broken stone and wary gaze they passed.