The heavy door creaked open, allowing a gust of cold air to spill into the dimly lit chamber. Only the flicker of a lone fireplace in the corner broke through the darkness, casting long, twisted shadows on the walls.
"Apologies for being late, ladies and gentlemen."
A man in a sleek, obsidian-black suit strode into the circular room. The crimson gleam in his eyes pierced through the gloom, unnerving even the most composed figures already seated. He took his place at the third seat around a round table carved with ancient markings.
"You're late again, Lord 3," someone muttered, voice clipped and sharp.
Of the nine chairs encircling the table, only six were currently occupied. Each seat bore a number, and each figure wore a mask marked with a corresponding Greek numeral—all but one. Lord 3 was the only one who remained unmasked, his ruby eyes a symbol of his authority and his audacity.
"Important business delayed me," Lord 3 replied. "The boss had back-to-back meetings. I couldn't just walk away."
His presence alone shifted the atmosphere. Tension thickened like smoke.
"Let's start," Lord 3 continued, leaning forward. "First, I want to criticize Lord 5 for failing in his duties."
Of course, the guest occupying seat number 5 also got emotional until he kicked the table.
"You think infiltrating Grimoir City is easy? We've already discussed this! Why are you bringing it up again?"
"Because failure isn't something we brush aside with excuses," Lord 3 snapped. "Second: AMER has officially secured cooperation from multiple Southeast Asian nations."
That made everyone sit straighter.
"So it begins..." Lord 9 murmured.
"Indeed. The green light has been given. It's time to move forward as planned."
A mysterious aura of black smoke suddenly filled the room. A pool of energy came out of one of the people who was none other than him sitting in seat number 1. Compared to others, the mask he wears is different because it has a barong or lion's head motif.
"What's the matter, Lord 1? It seems that you are so interested in hearing this news?" Lord 3 asked, unfazed.
The mist thickened. Then, without warning, Lord 1 rose. No, floated—into the air, hovering above the center of the table.
"Let me go to Grimoir," he said in flat tone.
His words shocked the other guests. They didn't seem happy with that. From his voice, it seems that he is the youngest member among them.
"You can't act arbitrarily just because you're number one!" snapped Lord 6.
But Lord 1 merely expanded his dark energy, filling the room with choking pressure. The flaming mane of his Barong mask fluttered wildly.
"Don't compare me to insects."
"What did you say, bastard?!"
"Relax, gentlemen... We don't need to argue for something unimportant", Lord 3 cut to calm the atmosphere. "You! if you really want to visit Grimoir go ahead, as long as you can enter that city."
"Heh. Don't worry."
No one saw his face, but they could sense the smirk behind the mask. His obsession with Grimoir City was not something new. And this time, his murmur chilled the room more than his powers.
"We'll meet again, Airi."
* * *
The temperature in the apartment was a strange contradiction. Even with the air conditioner turned up, the storm outside still made the room feel colder than it should. Raindrops lashed against the windows, and the occasional rumble of thunder cut through the silence.
Aidera sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop balanced on her knees. It was 2 AM.
"Milady! Why are you still awake?!"
The door slammed open as Clara stormed in, half-pajamaed, half-annoyed.
"Hei! You didn't even knock on the door again."
At the door of this apartment, the girl who is her maid and friend continues to pace back and forth. The goal is still the same, which is to check whether her Madam is asleep or not.
"You're still working? It's 2 in the morning!"
"The matter of the organization has not been completed, nor the documents for the competition for tomorrow", Aidera replied casually.
"But please think about your health..."
This is the picture of life in the world of university if you have received the title as an exemplary student, as well as a member of the faculty council. So many affairs, even simple matters such as sleep, are even underestimated. Moreover, Aidera's character is also perfectionist.
"You don't seem to give up after getting one of your laptops damaged by overworking."
"Relax, that thing have been taken to the repair."
"Yeah, a shady corner-shop in the middle of nowhere."
Aidera chuckled. "They fixed it cheap. Also, electronic service places are the same everywhere, right?"
"Uhh, I don't think so, Milady."
"Anyway, I'm going to sleep soon. Promise."
Clara raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. They lived across from each other in the same apartment complex in West Grimoir. Clara, officially her personal assistant-slash-childhood-friend, had her own room thanks to her employer's generosity.
"Wait," Aidera patted the bed beside her. "Come here a sec. I wanna braid your hair."
"N-now?! Milady, we need to sleep ASAP!"
"Ahh come on, just come here!"
Her heart was still heavy, but what could she do if her own Madam had forced her? She groaned but sat down. As Aidera gently combed her hair with her fingers, the atmosphere shifted.
"Do you remember that guy from yesterday? The one whose wallet we returned?"
"Zeyn? Yeah, what about him?"
Aidera paused. Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling.
"Clay, we've been together for a long time, haven't we?"
"Yes. I used to be just a village kid who had nothing in the city. You took me in and made me your personal maid when we were both 6 years old."
"Hmm..."
"What's the matter?"
Her fingers slowed. "I don't know why, but... that guy. I feel like I've met him in the past."
"What do you mean?" asked Clara.
The more she tried to remember, somehow her mind became more stuck. It felt like a dream, but Aidera wasn't stupid enough to think it was just a coincidence. Several times she thought about Zeyn, several times her head hurt.
Her mind also did not deny that the figure of the little red-eyed that had appeared in his mind, could have been the same young man she had met yesterday. After all, how many humans out there have red pupils like that?
"Sometimes I feel like I'm getting a flashback. A burning mansion, people dying, and a strange cop."
"Flashback? Strange cop?" Clara tried to catch the meaning of her words.
"If it's true that it is a picture of the past, especially when I was a child... You should be there too, right?"
"Umm... should be. Maybe?"
"Well, go find me more information about him then!"
"I... don't understand, what is it for?"
"He could have known what happened that night. Maybe he knows why the mansion is on fire?" said Aidera confidently. "Could it be that he knows something that I do not know?"
A logical-sounding reason had just come out of her mouth. The longer she listened, the more dizzy Clara became.
"Alright, that's it. You need sleep. You're starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist."
"But... Clara..."
"Nope! No more delirious and hallucinating. Your work can be affected later. We better sleep now."
"But..."
"Good night, Milady." Clara chose to leave the room independently.
"Well, she left instead. Huh!" Aidera puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
Who else should she tell if her best friend even thinks she is hallucinating? Again, she didn't want to think that the incident happened by chance. After all, it was not only once that she got a picture of the past. Her head was also dizzy every time that flashback appeared.
* * * *