The city had not slept since Lucius's visit to the government offices. His presence lingered like smoke in every hallway, a reminder that the Devil now walked openly among them. Officials spoke in whispers, trembling at the memory of his crimson gaze. Yet while fear chained them to silence, others in the dark began to stir.
From the depths of the city, word spread of resistance. Cloaked men and women who despised Lucius's rise gathered in hidden places, whispering of fire, of blades, of rebellion. They believed the Devil's grip was not yet absolute, and that tonight they could break it.
At the estate, Lucius stood at his balcony, watching the moon hang heavy over his city. His voice was calm, carrying only for his council to hear. "They move," he said softly. "The rats scurry, convinced they are unseen. Let them come."
The council gathered in the chamber. Darius Veylan leaned against the pillar, axes at his side. "Then tonight I sharpen their screams," he growled. "Let me hunt them in the streets."
Silvio Marcellus shook his head. "Not yet. If we strike too quickly, they scatter and return stronger. Better to let them reveal their nest."
Victor Draemont adjusted his cufflinks, his eyes sharp. "Their backers have already transferred funds. I have bled two accounts dry. By morning, they will have nothing left but desperation."
Adrian Crowe smirked over his papers. "Desperation is easy to bend in court. When they move, I will have the law strangle them in chains they cannot see."
Ravenna's grin widened as she toyed with her blades. "I do not care how they fall. I only want them to scream long enough for me to savor it."
Selene bowed low before Lucius. Her voice was steady, though her eyes betrayed her fear of failure. "Master, give me the names. I will drag them here myself, torn and broken, until they confess."
Lucius's crimson gaze swept the room. His voice was soft, but each word struck like iron. "Tonight they believe the city belongs to them. Tonight they strike at my shadows. But the shadows have always been mine."
The first strike came at midnight. A warehouse tied to Lucius's empire erupted in flames, the sky painted orange with fire. Sirens cut the silence, and panic spread like poison through the streets.
"Master," Silvio said quickly, "they are moving on three fronts. The docks, the merchant district, and the south quarter. It is a coordinated attack."
Darius slammed his fist against the table, rage in his eyes. "Then let me loose. I will tear through them until the streets run red."
But Lucius only smiled, the faintest curl of his lips. "Not yet. Let them burn what they believe is mine. They think they cut my flesh. In truth, they only sharpen my knives."
In the cathedral at the edge of the city, the conspirators cheered as flames rose. "He bleeds," one of them cried. "The Devil bleeds tonight!"
Yet their triumph was cut short when the air shifted. The doors creaked open, though no wind stirred. From the shadows, laughter rang, cold and sharp. Ravenna stepped into the hall, blades glinting under the moonlight.
One conspirator froze. "No… it cannot be—" His words ended in a scream as Ravenna's dagger slid across his throat.
Back at the estate, Lucius closed his eyes, as though hearing the distant cries carried by the night. "The first chord has been struck," he whispered. "Now the music begins."
The conspirators tried to flee, but the exits were already sealed. Ravenna's laughter filled the cathedral as one by one, bodies fell to the floor. Yet in the chaos, a few escaped, running deeper into the city.
When word of the attack reached the estate, Cain Mortalis rose silently, lifting his axe. His silence spoke more than words ever could. Lucius's eyes gleamed as he turned to his council.
"Let them run," he said. "Let them believe they live another night. Tomorrow, they will realize the truth. You cannot run from the Devil."