The Vellor estate lay quiet at dawn, its torches extinguished, its halls sealed behind polished gates. To the eyes of Midgar's citizens, nothing unusual had occurred. Another night of noble indulgence. Another night of secrets best left unspoken.
But Kael knew better.
From the rooftop across the street, he watched as servants swept ashes from the courtyard with hurried precision, their faces pale, their steps nervous. No wagons left. No crates remained. Selene Varadis had covered her trail, erasing all sign of the ritual.
The second fragment was gone.
Kael's gaze lingered on the viscount as he emerged onto the balcony, his silk robe poorly concealing his trembling hands. He barked orders at the servants, voice cracking. Fear clung to him like a second skin.
Kael tilted his head slightly. Yes. The threads are already fraying.
He had not lost this round. On the contrary—Selene had revealed her reliance on pawns like Vellor. And pawns could be broken.
That evening, Kael convened his legion in the ruined cathedral. Shadows knelt in rows beneath shattered stained glass, their violet eyes flickering like embers in the dark.
Kael stood at the altar, the Eye of Dusk pulsing faintly at his chest.
"Selene Varadis believes herself untouchable," Kael said softly. "She believes she commands from behind her noble mask. But masks are fragile. The viscount trembles. His allies whisper. If we pull at his strings, her network will collapse."
He raised his hand.
"Arise."
From the ground rose five shades—slender, hunched, their forms half-translucent. Spies and whisperers, the kind that could pass unnoticed in taverns, noble halls, or the slums.
"You will bleed rumors into the city," Kael commanded. "You will spread whispers of Vellor's debts, his failing influence, his hidden dealings. You will turn allies into scavengers, and scavengers into wolves."
The spies bowed in silence, melting back into the dark.
Kael's voice deepened. "When the viscount falls, Selene will be forced into the light. And when she steps forward…" His eyes gleamed violet. "…I will claim what she holds."
The whispers began within days.
In the merchant quarter, rumors spread that Vellor's debts to foreign traders had grown beyond repair. In the noble quarter, servants whispered of late-night visitors cloaked in crimson. In the taverns, mercenaries spoke of shipments that vanished under his watch.
By the end of the week, the viscount's name was spoken with suspicion, his allies avoiding his halls.
Kael moved among the common folk in a simple cloak, listening. Every whisper was another thread pulled, another knot loosened. He felt the web tightening—not around him, but around Selene.
Yet he also felt something else.
The Eye pulsed stronger each day, as if feeding on the growing discord. When Kael touched it, shadows surged more eagerly, their whispers clearer, their loyalty sharper.
It was as if the relic itself delighted in the collapse of order.
Kael's lips curved faintly. "Then let us give you more."
But Selene Varadis was not blind.
Kael's spies reported that she had doubled the guard around the Vellor estate, replacing the viscount's men with her own crimson-marked followers. She attended gatherings personally now, her silver hair a beacon of quiet authority.
And more troubling—she had begun moving in the city herself. Cloaked, silent, but never without two shadows at her side. Not the summoned kind, but living agents—loyal, fanatical, skilled.
Kael observed her once from afar, as she slipped into a discreet apothecary in the slums. She moved with no hesitation, no fear, her aura sharp as drawn steel.
Selene Varadis was no passive schemer. She was a predator in her own right.
Kael watched her disappear into the apothecary, then murmured into the night.
"Good. Show me your hand."
Back in his refuge, Kael unfurled a map across the stone table. Black pins marked the Cult's known movements, red pins their suspected shipments. Two pins pulsed faintly—fragments claimed.
But three others remained uncertain. Hidden. Waiting.
He traced a gloved finger across the map, stopping at the noble quarter.
"Selene holds one," he whispered. "She believes herself safe. She forgets that shadows do not need doors or walls."
He pressed his palm to the table. Shadows spread like veins across the map, wrapping around the pins.
His eyes burned violet.
"The next move is mine."
Yet Kael was not the only one watching.
From the spire of a distant clocktower, another figure crouched, cloak fluttering in the night wind. Crimson eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as he observed Kael's movements.
Cid rested his chin in his hand, grinning faintly. "Now that's how you play the game. No noise. No harem of fools. Just shadows and silence."
His smirk widened.
"Maybe I've finally found a rival worth the name."