Lucian stood in the center of the massive, opulent bedroom, his eyes scanning every detail. The room was a blend of gothic elegance and futuristic sophistication. Black marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of violet chandeliers, their light refracted by strands of crystal shaped like droplets of shadow. The walls were lined with intricate carvings and shimmering runes that seemed to hum faintly with energy, as though the room itself were alive. One side of the room featured floor-to-ceiling windows, though instead of showing the outside, they displayed a mesmerizing, magical view of a dark, swirling cosmos. Galaxies twinkled and pulsed, shifting in rhythm with the runes on the walls.
The centerpiece of the room was the enormous bed—a canopy draped with black silk curtains that shimmered like liquid shadows. The bedding was plush, with deep purple and silver tones that exuded luxury. On one side of the room, a lounge area was furnished with sleek black couches and a low glass table, its surface etched with glowing glyphs. On the other, a wardrobe and vanity stood, their surfaces inlaid with swirling violet energy that seemed to respond to Lucian's presence.
Lucian let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, this is… something else. If she wanted to intimidate me with her interior design, it's working."
Amelia stepped forward, setting a neatly folded set of clothes on the bed. "These are for you," she said, her tone clipped. "Wear them when she calls for you. And remember, my lady does not tolerate insolence."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Noted. Anything else? Like, do I bow when she walks in? Call her 'Your Majesty'? Bark like a dog?"
Amelia sighed, her patience clearly wearing thin. "You should be grateful you're here at all, thief."
"Lucian," he corrected, smirking. "We're past the 'thief' stage, Ironmaiden."
Amelia's lips tightened, but she didn't rise to the bait. "You'll remain here until summoned. Do not wander. Do not touch anything. And, most importantly, do not test my lady's patience."
Lucian raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, I'll be a perfect little pet. No leash required."
Amelia gave him a sharp look but didn't respond. She turned on her heel, her boots clicking against the marble floor as she exited the room. The door closed behind her with a soft hiss, leaving Lucian alone in the sprawling space.
He sank onto the plush black couch, leaning back with a heavy sigh. "What the hell is my life right now?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "One moment, I'm in a dungeon, and the next, I'm… this."
He glanced at the folded clothes Amelia had left on the bed—sleek, tailored black slacks and a deep purple shirt that seemed to shimmer faintly. "A pet with a dress code. Fancy."
Lucian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of his situation. Selene. Lady Spectra. The most feared supervillain in existence, and I'm somehow… her project? He let out a bitter laugh. A project, a pet… what's next?
He rubbed his face, his humor faltering as the weight of his reality settled in. I need a plan. If I'm going to survive this, I need to figure out what she wants, why I'm still alive, and how I can use this to my advantage.
As he mulled over his thoughts a different scene was happening at the throne room.
---
After settling Lucian in, Amelia entered the throne room, her expression carefully neutral as she approached Selene, who now stood near a massive holographic display. The screen projected maps, reports, and tactical data, casting faint light across her sharp features. She turned as Amelia approached, her glowing purple eyes narrowing.
"My lady," Amelia began, bowing slightly. "The thief—Lucian—has been settled in your chambers as you requested."
Selene's expression softened slightly at the mention of his name. "Good. And the mission?"
"The Night Order secured the area and neutralized all immediate threats," Amelia replied. "The assets you requested are en route to the Citadel."
Selene nodded, her attention shifting momentarily to the display. But then, her gaze snapped back to Amelia, sharper than before. "Why was he injured?"
Amelia hesitated. "The gang that captured him—"
"Why," Selene interrupted, her tone icy, "was he injured? I gave specific orders for him to be retrieved intact."
Amelia straightened. "My lady, the injuries were sustained before we reached him. The gang had—"
Selene's expression darkened, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Shadows coiled around her feet like living things, slithering up her legs and spreading outward. The runes along the walls flared brighter as her power leaked, filling the air with an oppressive energy.
"They dared," Selene hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "They dared to harm what is mine?"
The shadows writhed, twisting into jagged tendrils that lashed out at the air around her. The holographic display flickered, and cracks appeared in the obsidian floor beneath her feet. Amelia stood frozen, her calm demeanor shaken as she watched the display of raw power.
"My lady," Amelia began cautiously. "Is such a response necessary? The offenders—"
"They are irrelevant," Selene said, her voice suddenly calm. The shadows stilled, retreating back to her form as if called by an unseen command. She turned to face Amelia fully, her expression icy but composed. "What matters is that they pay."
Amelia's brow furrowed slightly. "You want them eliminated?"
"I want them gone," Selene replied, her tone final. "Every last one of them. No loose ends."
Amelia hesitated, then bowed her head. "As you command, my lady."
Selene turned away, her gaze shifting back to the display. "See to it personally, Ironmaiden. And ensure it is done swiftly."
"Yes, my lady," Amelia said, her voice steady once more. She exited the room, her steps measured, though her thoughts swirled with unease. Selene's reaction had been… unusual. Intense. And the way she spoke of Lucian—possessively—was unlike her usual calculated demeanor.