The Extra Wants Control

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

Ray, still perched on the sofa, a picture of cool composure despite the scene that had just unfolded, leaned forward. "Now," he said, his voice smooth as velvet, "we solidify the agreement."

A dark contract materialized in his hand, the parchment radiating an unsettling energy. Shadows danced around its edges, hinting at the power it held. Viktor felt a primal fear grip him, but the image of his battered sister steeled his resolve.

"Sign," Ray commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Viktor eyed the contract, the darkness within it warring with the flicker of hope that burned in his chest. "What exactly is the price?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Everything," Ray replied, his smile devoid of warmth. "But fear not, Viktor. I have no intention of treating you unfairly. Consider it a partnership, one that will grant you the power you crave."

He gestured towards the contract. "With it, you'll have the ability to bury Blake Manor with your own hands. Or, if your thirst for revenge demands immediate gratification, I can offer you a contingent of soldiers for the task."

Viktor's jaw clenched tight. He met Ray's gaze, a cold fire blazing in his eyes. "No," he growled, the word laced with a dangerous edge. "I'll do it myself. With my own hands."

He reached out, his thumb hovering over the contract. This was his path now, a path paved with vengeance and shrouded in darkness. But in the quiet of the room, only one name echoed in his mind – Stella.

With a deep breath and a resolve hardened by years of suppressed anger, Viktor bit his thumb. A single drop of blood welled up, crimson against his calloused skin. He pressed his bloody thumbprint onto the contract, sealing his fate.

A surge of energy crackled through the room as the darkness within the contract seemed to devour his blood. When it subsided, the contract lay inert, a dark symbol of the pact struck.

"Good," Ray said, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Now, rest assured. You'll be reunited with your sister properly tomorrow. As for your training and further instructions, someone from an organization called Babel will approach you. They will guide you further."

He rose from the sofa, his tall figure dominating the room. With a final nod, Ray and Constantine vanished in a swirl of shadows, leaving Viktor alone with the weight of his decision and the unconscious form of his sister in his arms.

Ray's mind, however, buzzed with the echoes of the scene he had orchestrated. Viktor's desperation, the flicker of vengeance in his eyes – it had all been masterfully manipulated. Ray wasn't driven by some misplaced sense of justice; he was a player on a far grander chessboard, and Viktor was merely his latest pawn.

He recalled the original narrative, the brutal fate that had awaited Stella, one of assault and murder by the count's heir. How even in her death she was accused of trying to murder the heir.

How Viktor was too late to save her making him sign a demonic contract to gain revenge only to be stopped before killing his sister's murderer by the human saint Seraphina who at the time was on a campaign to increase the church's reputation and influence.

Neveah's reason for saving the siblings? No, pity or a hero's complex hadn't driven his intervention. It was pure, cold calculation.

Viktor was a diamond piece– a man of ambition burdened by a past ripe for exploitation. He already possessed a guild, a stepping stone to greater influence. And his lineage, hailing from a Count's family, placed him just a step below the prestigious Clans, who themselves bowed only to the Royal family.

The potential was undeniable. With a well-placed nudge, Ray could elevate Viktor's guild, the Dawn Guild, to new heights. He could even manipulate events to secure the Count's title for Viktor. With such influence in Viktor's grasp, Babel, his own organization, would have a smooth path to expand across the human continent.

With the guild support and support from a count family it would further legitimize Babel's activities and improve it's credibility.

************

The air crackled with a cold tension in the dimly lit chamber. Neveah, his face obscured by shadows, rasped out orders, his voice hoarse with a hint of subtle urgency.

"Constantine," he rasped, his voice catching in his throat, "did you gather enough people for your squad?"

A hulking figure emerged from the darkness, his features hidden beneath a dark hood. "Yes, Master Neveah," he rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly. "They're assembled, though their skills are still raw."

Neveah nodded curtly. "Excellent. We need them operational soon. Our plan hinges on chaos. We'll stir the pot amongst the noble families around Stonegate. Let there be sabotage, assassinations, kidnappings – anything to pit them against each other.

Let them tear themselves apart while we exploit the confusion."

A cruel smile played on his lips, barely visible in the dim light. "And it's time Null emerged from the shadows. Contact our previous 'clients', remind them of our… services. We cater to a discerning clientele – assassinations, robberies, information – whatever they desire. Promote Null, but with discretion. Remember, subtlety is key."

Constantine inclined his head. "Understood, Master. I'll inform Null and coordinate with Mavis to dismantle or absorb any smaller information networks around Babel. We should anticipate retaliation from established organizations, of course. A careful hand is needed."

Neveah let out a sharp bark of laughter, devoid of humor. "Indeed. Always check their background first. If they have deep roots, back off and strike another day. But if they're vulnerable, crush them without mercy."

He turned his attention to a holographic display that flickered with a projected image of Viktor Maddox. "Kael," he addressed the figure hovering in the corner, his form shimmering with an ethereal light, "focus on Viktor's development. Push him to his limits, but don't let him unleash his vengeance prematurely. He needs to be a weapon honed to perfection before we unleash him."

The holographic figure dipped its head in acknowledgment. "As you command, Master Neveah."

A frustrated sigh escaped Mavis, her voice crackling through the holographic communicator. "Master, there's been a complication with the information you asked on the Beastman continent. It seems a duo of 9-star tigerkin women are also investigating the area. My agents…"

Neveah slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing in the chamber. "Tell them to back off! Now! We don't need unnecessary complications, especially with those creatures."

Mavis' voice filled with worry. "Sir, I can't reach them. They've gone dark."

Neveah slumped back in his chair, a look of weary defeat crossing his shadowed face. "Damn it all. They must have been compromised. Focus on the tasks at hand, Mavis. We can't afford a fight with those tigers right now."

He swept a hand across the holographic display, dismissing the images. The chamber plunged back into darkness, leaving only the rasping breaths of Neveah and the faint hum of the holographic technology to fill the tense silence. Even the most cunning manipulator couldn't account for every variable – and the 9-star tigerkin of the Beastman continent were a variable they couldn't afford to ignore.

The tiger queen also has intrest in that village? Does she know?

As Neveah was lost in thought his sorroundings suddenly shifted.

" You've been slacking off" said a woman in an angry tone.

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