Morning arrived over Virelux with deceptive serenity. Sunlight spilled across the harbor in molten ribbons, catching the jagged skyline and transforming cold glass towers into glowing monuments. From above, the city appeared almost gentle, as though the night's indulgences and dangers had evaporated with the darkness. Yet beneath that golden calm, the pulse of ambition, crime, politics, and quiet desperation never truly slept. Virelux simply wore daylight like a mask.
In the wealthy district, where fortunes were built faster than reputations could follow, the Solstice Meridian Tower pierced the sky as the city's second tallest structure, surpassed only by Queen Marrowayne's Queendom Statebuilding. Solstice Meridian Tower represented private power rather than royal authority — commerce, influence, and the subtle gravity of money shaping outcomes unseen.
At its summit stretched a full-floor penthouse that belonged to a man who embodied that unseen influence perfectly.
Aurex Bellmont.
Publicly, he was a darling of the creative world — actor, writer, director, fashion mogul, and cultural tastemaker. Privately, among only the highest echelons of the criminal underworld, he was known by another title entirely: the hidden director of the Velarium Consortium, a syndicate whose reach extended quietly across borders, markets, and governments.
The secret endured through careful design. Aurex never attended illicit meetings physically; instead, he relied on illusionary projections, intermediaries bound by magically enforced contracts, and layered shell corporations that blurred financial trails beyond recognition. Even within his own organization, information moved in fragments so no subordinate saw the full picture. Fame itself became camouflage. Few suspected a celebrated celebrity already living under constant scrutiny would also command a criminal empire.
Visibility protected him.
Mystery preserved him.
Aurex woke slowly beneath layers of silk-thread quilts enchanted to maintain perfect comfort. His bedroom resembled something between luxury suite and private sanctuary: automated glass walls adjusting opacity, soft water features whispering along marble channels, curated art pieces shifting subtly through rune-projected rotations, and a cityscape view so expansive it bordered on surreal.
He stretched, muscles defined but relaxed, emerald hair slightly disheveled from sleep. Blue eyes opened sharp despite lingering drowsiness. He yawned, scratched idly at his neck, then sat up with the casual grace of someone accustomed to both cameras and command.
Charisma came naturally to him.
So did calculated cruelty when necessary.
A soft knock preceded Lyessa's entrance. She moved with practiced elegance, wearing a tailored maid uniform that balanced modest professionalism with unmistakable aesthetic intent. Bronze skin glowed warmly under filtered sunlight, and her hazel eyes carried an attentive intelligence that made her far more than decorative staff.
On her tray rested two expertly rolled blunts alongside an ornate lighter etched with discreet Velarium insignia.
"Good morning, sir," she said gently.
Aurex smiled faintly. "Already improving."
"Velvet Static and Crownfall Bloom, as you prefer."
Signature strains. Flagship products. Status symbols in certain circles.
"And breakfast?"
"Prepared fresh."
His stomach answered before he could.
Lighting one blunt, Aurex inhaled deeply. Aromatic smoke filled the air with notes of citrus resin, damp earth, and faint sweetness. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl upward like a thought forming into strategy.
Breakfast unfolded in a dining room designed less for meals and more for impression. Polished marble floors reflected sunlight, rune-lit chandeliers adjusted brightness automatically, and panoramic windows framed Virelux like a living painting. The table held an almost ceremonial spread: honey-drizzled waffles, folded eggs, crisp bacon, herb sausages, roasted potatoes, fresh fruit towers, pastries dusted lightly with sugar, cheeses aged to perfection, yogurt parfaits, and strong coffee steaming steadily.
A lacrima television murmured background news — market stability, political tension between neighboring territories, cultural showcases, and weather forecasts promising clear skies.
Then the rotary wall lacrima phone chimed.
Lyessa answered gracefully, listened briefly, then turned toward Aurex.
"Sir, Varrick Silvain requests an audience."
Aurex's eyebrow lifted slightly. Syndicate leaders rarely visited personally without pressing cause.
Curiosity sharpened.
"Send him up."
Preparation required minimal effort. Tailored charcoal suit, open collar, understated jewelry. A public persona layered carefully over a private strategist.
When Varrick entered, tension clung to him visibly. Normally composed, he now looked strained, jaw tight, eyes shadowed with sleepless calculation.
Aurex welcomed him with relaxed warmth, offering a Crownfall Bloom blunt.
"Helps conversation flow," Aurex said casually.
Varrick accepted, inhaling more from habit than enjoyment.
"My cultivation fields burned," he began bluntly. "Years of terpene research gone. Investors nervous. Revenue collapsing. Without those formulas recovered, my operation stalls completely."
Aurex listened politely, though his expression betrayed little urgency.
"You're hunting a dark half-elf, you say," Aurex observed.
"I suspect he'll try to circulate my lost formulas on the black market here," Varrick stated. "I need ears in places my people don't reach."
Aurex leaned back slightly.
"I heard another rumor first," he said. "Colorada'Sierra royalty experiencing… family complications."
Varrick exhaled smoke sharply.
"I see, your still chasing gossip, as always."
"Gossip predicts markets," Aurex replied smoothly.
After a pause, Varrick confirmed cautiously. "Yes, the Princess was missing but the details are unclear. Some say political maneuver, others accident. Smoke obscured everything." Varrick recounted everything that was orchestrated that night.
Aurex nodded thoughtfully, then shifted tone subtly darker.
"As for your half-elf… unknown variables irritate me. They disrupt planning. Thornveil's recent complacency has already introduced instability. I prefer to eliminate uncertainties early."
Varrick watched him carefully.
"So you'll help?"
"I'll listen," Aurex corrected. "Listening costs less than ignorance."
Relief flickered briefly across Varrick's face.
Before closing, Aurex added calmly, "While operating in my city, keep your men disciplined. I dislike unnecessary violence on my turf."
Varrick nodded, understanding the veiled warning.
"And naturally," Aurex continued, voice light but eyes sharp, "my assistance carries significant cost."
Teeth clenched briefly, Varrick agreed. This man hunt was already draining resources.
They shook hands.
Sealing their agreement.
After Varrick departed, Lyessa returned quietly.
"Sir, additional information from Jasparion regarding last night at Neon Reverie."
She relayed suspicions about a woman resembling the missing princess and mentioned a capable half-elf companion involved in a disturbance.
Aurex remained outwardly calm, though internally calculations accelerated.
If the princess truly lingered in Virelux, assisting Varrick could secure leverage with Thornveil.
Protecting or locating royalty could earn influence with Colorada'Sierra.
Two debts.
One opportunity.
A faint smile formed.
"Unknown variables," he murmured softly, "are best handled before they become problems."
He resumed his daily routine, though his thoughts lingered on emerging possibilities.
Across the city, luxury gave way to modest practicality at the Harborlight Meridian Hotel, where Arthur continued attempting to wake Rowen.
Persistent shaking produced only muffled resistance.
"Mission first," Arthur insisted.
"Five more minutes," Rowen muttered without opening his eyes.
Arthur stared in disbelief.
Eventually he left alone, muttering about military promotion standards.
Unbeknownst to him, surveillance had already begun.
Queen Marrowayne's covert intelligence unit — the Obsidian Veil Task Force — observed discreetly from nearby vantage points. Their commander, Captain Bastien Kaelor, watched through an enchanted viewing lens, expression unreadable.
"Progress locating the princess?" he asked quietly.
"Still nothing, sir," one operative replied.
"City's enormous," another added. "Plenty of places to disappear."
Bastien nodded thoughtfully.
"Maintain observation. Report anything unusual."
Their orders remained clear:
Track the knights.
Continue with locating the princess, while avoiding any unnecessary exposure.
Arthur walked Virelux streets thoughtfully, sunlight reflecting from glass towers and rune signage. Compared to Colorada'Sierra's traditional architecture, Virelux felt alive in a faster, brighter, more dangerous way.
Beautiful.
Unpredictable.
Above him, unseen forces maneuvered:
Syndicates calculating influence and royal agents watching shadows, while knights searching for answers.
And somewhere within that sprawling city, Oscar and Stephanie unknowingly stood at the center of converging interests.
Morning sunlight made everything appear peaceful.
Yet beneath that calm glow, ambition gathered like smoke waiting for wind.
And when that wind came, Virelux would not remain quiet for long.