The city of Midgar thrived on routine. Merchants opened stalls at dawn, children carried baskets through cobbled streets, nobles rode past in carriages too ornate for the mud-slick roads. Routine was safety. Routine was control.
Which was why Kael chose the market square.
He stood unseen in the rafters of a half-collapsed bell tower, the morning sun barely cresting the horizon. His cloak melted into the shadows, violet eyes fixed on the stage below.
Dozens of merchants set up their stalls. The square filled with chatter, haggling, and the clatter of wagons. But Kael was not watching them. He was watching the corner where three cloaked men moved too deliberately, their eyes darting, their steps too even.
Selene's agents, he thought. Spreading the smear further.
He whispered.
"Arise."
From the base of the tower, two shadows slipped free, their forms indistinct and thin as smoke. They drifted toward the square, unseen among the bustle.
Kael's eyes narrowed. Let us end this rumor at its root.
The cloaked men reached a busy stall. The first leaned close to the merchant, whispering. The second pressed a coin into his hand. The third gestured toward a mother leading her child through the square.
Kael's spies listened, their whispers carrying back to him.
"…the Monarch hunts children now…""…his shadows took one just last week, down by the river…""…spread the word—he is no savior, he is doom."
Kael's lips curved faintly. And so you sow. Now watch as I harvest.
With a thought, the shadows surged.
The three men stiffened as tendrils of violet flame erupted beneath their feet, coiling around their ankles. The crowd gasped, panic rippling through the square as the men were yanked into the air, suspended by living darkness.
"Look!" someone cried. "It's him—the Monarch!"
The whispers spread like fire.
Kael rose in the tower, his cloak stirring as he let his presence bleed into the Veil. His voice rolled across the square, calm, commanding, amplified by the shadows themselves.
"These men," he declared, "spread lies in the name of the Cult. They would have you fear what stands against them."
The crowd hushed. All eyes turned upward, searching, though none could see him clearly.
Kael's tone sharpened. "You will know me not by their whispers… but by theirs."
He gestured.
The shadows dragged the three cloaked men down. Their disguises dissolved, revealing crimson tattoos burned into their flesh—the mark of the Cult. Gasps rippled. The merchants stumbled back in fear.
Kael's voice fell softer, but no less cutting.
"The Monarch does not devour children. He devours corruption."
The shadows constricted. The three agents screamed once before dissolving into ash, their cries swallowed by silence.
And then the shadows receded, leaving only Kael's final whisper hanging in the air.
"Spread truth. Not lies."
The square erupted.
Some merchants fled. Others shouted, pointing at the ash that smoldered on the cobblestones. Mothers clutched children tighter. But the whispers had changed.
"…they were cultists…""…the Monarch revealed them…""…he saved us…"
Kael smiled faintly from the tower. A single public strike had undone Selene's smear, turning her own agents into his proof.
Perception was a blade sharper than steel.
In the Vellor estate, Selene Varadis struck her palm against the table. The wood splintered under the force. Her crimson guards stood silent, heads bowed.
"He used my own men," she said coldly, "to build his legend. In front of the city."
Her silver hair gleamed in the lamplight as she paced. "Every whisper I planted, he burns to ash. Every move I make, he turns back on me."
She exhaled slowly, forcing her fury into a blade's edge.
"Then we stop playing in shadows. If the people wish for spectacle, I will give them blood."
That night, Kael returned to his ruined cathedral. The Eye of Dusk pulsed furiously against his chest, faster than before, its rhythm nearly frantic.
He sat at the altar, fingers brushing its surface through his cloak. The whispers in the Veil were louder, sharper, almost eager.
"Conflict feeds the throne. The more the world trembles, the stronger you become."
Kael leaned back, eyes closed. His lips curved faintly.
"So be it."
From a distant rooftop, crimson eyes glimmered as Cid crouched, chin resting on his hand.
"Now that was stylish," he murmured. "A public reveal, shadows swallowing liars, and a whole square holding its breath."
He chuckled softly. "He's not just playing at it. He is it."
Cid's smirk widened.
"Good. Then I'll just have to raise the stakes."