The Extra Wants Control

"Dawn Guild master Viktor Maddox," the man said, his voice smooth and controlled, "my name is Ray Alistair, and I have a proposition for you."

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Viktor settled back into the plush sofa, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. His fiery outburst felt like a distant memory, replaced by a suffocating sense of powerlessness in the face of his unwanted visitor's abilities. Ray, still cloaked in an aura of mystery, continued to sip his tea, the clinking of the delicate cup against the saucer the only sound breaking the tense silence.

"You haven't answered my question," Viktor finally rasped, his voice gruff but laced with a flicker of curiosity. "What would you want with a mere silver-rank guild master like me?"

Ray's eyes, previously closed in what could be mistaken for serenity, snapped open. They glinted with a cold, calculating light that sent shivers down Viktor's spine. "Mere? My dear Viktor," he drawled, his voice smooth as polished marble, "you underestimate yourself. You possess ambition, a thirst for power, and quite a past... These are qualities I find… useful."

Viktor bristled, the insult a sharp prick to his pride. He was no mere pawn to be manipulated. "And what do you know of my past?" he challenged, his voice hardening.

A sly smile played on Ray's lips. "Oh, Viktor," he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy, " I know plentiful. The Viktor Maddox, the guild master who rose from humble beginnings. And the Viktor Blake, the ostracized son, cast out by a noble family… a family that holds a certain dear sister of yours captive."

Viktor's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his blade, anger flaring in his brown eyes. His sister, Stella, a constant ache in his heart. He had dedicated himself to the Dawn Guild, hoping one day to amass enough power and influence to rescue her from the clutches of their cruel half-brother, Count Blake.

But reaching the Seventh Rank, the threshold for true power, seemed an impossible dream.

"Explain yourself," he managed to force out.

Ray seemed to relish the flicker of defiance in Viktor's eyes. "Power," he announced, his voice resonating with a dark conviction. "The power you lack to achieve your goals. The power to save your sister from the your half-brother, the future Count Blake, before it's too late."

Viktor's heart pounded in his chest. Stella, his beloved sister, a pawn in the twisted game of a cruel noble family? Rage, a simmering ember for years, flared into an inferno. "My sister… what do you mean?"

"Let's just say," Ray drawled, his eyes glinting with an unsettling knowledge, "rumors abound regarding Count Blake's… preferences. With your sister reaching the cusp of womanhood, how long do you think he'll resist the forbidden fruit?"

"..." Viktor remained silent he knew about the Blake's heir's hedonistic activities and how he had no line that he can't cross men women he tasted all. As for his sister...

"I can offer you an opportunity. A chance to get back your sister, to finally claim the revenge that has eluded you for so long. You should be aware of it by now. You are weak if you dared go against the Blake's you'd be crushed. You can't even break through to 7th rank."

Ray leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. "That's where I come in, Viktor. I can offer you the power you need, the resources to elevate yourself, to rise above your current limitations. But it comes with a price, of course."

Viktor felt a surge of apprehension. "What kind of price?" he asked warily.

The question hung heavy in the air, a challenge dangling before Viktor. "What kind of price?" he rasped, the desperation in his voice raw and exposed.

Ray, however, remained unfawning. A mischievous glint flickered in his blue eyes. "Acceptance first, Viktor," he said, his voice smooth as polished marble. "The specifics of the price can be discussed later."

Uncertainty clouded Viktor's face. This stranger, shrouded in mystery and power, offered a path to vengeance, a chance to rescue his sister, but the ambiguity of the price sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't a man to make rash decisions, yet the desperation gnawing at his insides threatened to overpower his caution.

Seeing the internal battle raging within Viktor, Ray raised his hand in a sharp gesture. "To the Blake's dungeons," he commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.

The black-haired figure beside him, Constantine, inclined his head in silent acknowledgment. With a twist of the air, a sensation of displacement washed over Viktor. When his vision cleared, he found himself no longer in the dimly lit office, but in a starkly different setting – a dank, stone dungeon.

A wave of nausea washed over him as the stench of mildew and despair assaulted his senses. His eyes strained to adjust to the gloom, finally landing on a horrifying sight. A young woman, chained to the wall, lay huddled in a corner. Her clothes were tattered, and her body bore the marks of violence. But even in that state, her beauty shone through.

"Stella!" Viktor roared, a primal surge of anger and protectiveness coursing through him.

The young woman didn't respond. Whether from exhaustion or some other reason, she lay motionless, oblivious to his presence.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching ripped through the oppressive silence. A man, with short brown hair and eyes that mirrored his arrogant smirk, entered the cell. Lust flickered in his gaze as he approached the unconscious Stella.

"Stella, my dear," he cooed, his voice dripping with a false veneer of kindness. He knelt before her, his hand reaching out to caress her chin.

As his touch grazed her skin, Stella jolted awake with a gasp. Fear and confusion clouded her eyes as she looked at the man looming over her.

"Please… let me go," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I'm not sure what I did, but I'm sorry."

The man chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "Have you considered my proposal, Stella?" he purred, his hand lingering on her cheek. "With just one night with me, you could save your brother, Viktor."

Viktor watched from the unseen confines of his forced observation, a silent witness to the disgusting scene unfolding before him. Rage bubbled in his chest, threatening to consume him. "You monster!" he screamed, his voice echoing in his own head. But it was a hollow cry, unheard by the people in the cell.

Ray, seemingly unaffected by the display, leaned back on the strange platform from which they observed, his expression unreadable. "Do you accept now, Viktor?" he asked, his voice devoid of warmth, laced with a hint of impatience.

Shame and desperation warred within Viktor. He had seen the depravity in the man's eyes, the violation he intended to inflict upon his sister. He couldn't just stand by and watch.

With a choked sob, Viktor fell to his knees. "Yes," he choked out, the taste of ash in his mouth. "I'll do whatever you want, just save my sister. Stella! Stella!" he cried out again, his voice raw with anguish. At the same time the man in the cell chuckled as he said and left locking the cell" Think about it Stella, don't keep me waiting for long or else..."

Ray's lips curved into a cold smile. "Excellent decision," he said, his voice dripping with a chilling satisfaction. He turned to the silent figure beside him. "Constantine."

At the single word, Constantine snapped his fingers. A surge of energy crackled in the air, and in a blink, Stella materialized beside Viktor, collapsing into his arms. She was unconscious, tears staining her cheeks. A single, faint murmur escaped her lips, "Brother…"

The dungeon scene dissolved around them, replaced once more by the familiar surroundings of Viktor's office within the Dawn Guild. Stella, still unconscious, lay limp in his arms as Viktor held her close, tears of relief and sorrow streaming down his face.

A heavy silence descended upon the room. The weight of the decision Viktor had just made hung thick in the air. He had pledged himself to Ray, a stranger with an unknown agenda, in exchange for the safety of his sister. He was now hugging his sister.

The silence in the office was thick with the weight of Viktor's decision. Stella lay unconscious in his arms, a frail counterpoint to the storm raging within him. He had traded his freedom for her safety, bound his loyalty to a mysterious stranger with a darkness that sent shivers down his spine.

"So, what now?" Viktor rasped, his voice hoarse with a mixture of relief and dread.

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