The city awoke in unease. Whispers carried news of foreign bankers and magnates rallying against Victor Draemont. Their coffers were deep, their reach extended far beyond the city, and they were determined to halt his growing empire.
But as their plots brewed abroad, the government of the city itself realized with dawning horror that Draemont's empire had grown too vast, too fast. Entire banks bowed to him, corporations vanished into his grip, and even rival politicians relied on his wealth to survive.
In desperation, officials convened in secret chambers. "If Draemont continues unchecked," one minister said, voice trembling, "Lucius will own not just the streets, but the very foundations of the state."
Another minister slammed his fist on the table. "Then we will regulate him. New laws, new controls, tighter oversight. We will cut his wings before they darken the entire sky."
They did not realize that Adrian Crowe and Silvio Marcellus were already waiting in the shadows of that very chamber, silent predators listening to the desperate squawks of prey.
Adrian's smile was cold as he later reported to Lucius. "They believe laws will save them. They do not understand the law has been mine for years. Every statute, every court, every judge dances when I whisper."
Silvio unfolded maps of the city's bureaucracy. Red marks dotted every office, every ministry, every hidden alley of influence. "Their officials are riddled with my agents. They will raise their pens, but those pens already write for us."
Victor's lips curved in faint amusement. "So they bring laws to battle gold. Then let them drown in their own words."
Lucius's crimson eyes gleamed as he sat upon his throne. "Let them believe they are strong. The greatest cruelty is not in killing your enemy. It is in allowing them to think they can fight you before crushing them utterly."
The following week, the government announced sweeping reforms. A new banking authority, oversight committees, strict audits meant to weaken Draemont's reach. The press hailed it as a return of order. Citizens dared to hope balance was restored.
Adrian walked into the first hearing as if it were his personal theater. Ministers blustered, auditors barked, but Adrian spoke with precision. Each law they invoked, he twisted back upon them, finding loopholes they themselves had forgotten existed.
Silvio ensured evidence appeared where it needed to, papers signed by long-dead officials suddenly resurfacing, contracts bearing invisible claws that none could escape. Every time a minister thought they had cornered Draemont, the ground fell out beneath them.
At the end of the trial, the judges bowed their heads in silence. Adrian's voice cut like a blade. "You thought you wrote the law. But the Devil writes history, and history will say you failed."
The ministers left the chamber pale, their reforms gutted, their reputations shattered. Outside, the people who had once hoped for salvation now whispered in terror. The government had not clipped Draemont's wings. They had revealed themselves as powerless.
Meanwhile, Victor Draemont deepened his grip on the financial arteries of the city. Corporations who thought to resist found their loans denied, their investors gone, their workers fleeing to companies loyal to Lucius.
Silvio orchestrated smear campaigns in the press, ensuring every minister who dared oppose them was painted as corrupt. Adrian followed with lawsuits that left them drowning in legal ruin.
Darius, watching the spectacle, laughed darkly. "They fight with words and drown in them. Perhaps I should sharpen my blades for when they beg us for silence."
Cain Mortalis said nothing, but when one official attempted to rally soldiers to defend the government's independence, Cain visited him personally. The man was found in his office, his head severed, his blood staining the very decree he had written.
Ravenna slipped through the night, silencing informants who tried to pass intelligence to foreign powers. Each scream she drew was a symphony, her gift to Lucius.
The foreign magnates who watched from afar realized with horror that the government was no ally. It was a puppet already dancing in Lucius's palm.
Victor stood at the heart of his empire, his voice low as he reported to Lucius. "Their banks, their ministers, their laws. All of it now belongs to you. Their power has become your power."
Lucius rose from his throne, the firelight glinting in his eyes. "Then let the world hear it. Gold bends to me. Law bends to me. And those who think themselves untouchable will soon kneel in the ashes of their empires."
The council bowed, but in the distance the storm of foreign resistance grew louder. The first embers of a corporate war far beyond the city's borders began to ignite, and soon Victor's shadows would stretch into foreign lands.
Lucius's smile was cruel. "Let them come. When they arrive, they will not find a council. They will find a Devil."
And with those words, the government's illusion of power crumbled, while Victor's empire grew ever more monstrous, a shadow of gold wrapping itself around every throat in the city.