Riven stood in the shadow of his driveway for a moment, letting the cool night air settle. He pulled a silver case from his pocket, his movements deliberate. The moonlight caught the sharp lines of his face and the expensive fabric of his suit as he straightened his cuffs, ensuring every detail was flawless. He wasn't just leaving; he was transitioning into the man the city feared.
Only when he was satisfied with the silence did he reach out. The Lamborghini sensed his proximity, its hidden lights pulsing once in recognition. With a soft click of the sensor, the door glided open. He slid inside, the low seat cradling him as he prepared to leave the sanctuary of the estate.
He shut the door with a smooth, heavy thud.
The engine came alive instantly—a low, aggressive snarl. The dashboard glowed with soft red lines tracing across polished surfaces. He pulled out of the mansion gates, the security beams sliding across the car's frame as he accelerated into the open road.
The streets near his estate were wide and spotless. Palm trees lined the pavement in perfect symmetry. Modern houses with glass walls and quiet fountains passed by in a blur of warm gold light. Further ahead, the city skyline shimmered, a forest of steel reflecting neon signs. Whenever the Lamborghini approached, other cars subtly shifted lanes, giving the predator room to run. Riven drove with one hand on the wheel, relaxed, the engine echoing between the high-rises.
Eventually, the scenery changed.
The roads narrowed. The houses became smaller, packed closer together under soft porch lights. It was quieter here—less a gallery of wealth and more a place where people actually lived.
He parked outside Nyra's house and stepped out. Inside, the tension was already thick.
Nyra stood before Asm, her arms locked across her chest. "You need to minimize your footprint," she said firmly. "The Agency is getting suspicious. You're showing up on surveillance near every scene where people vanish. You're being reckless."
Asm looked annoyed, his eyes hidden behind the cloth wrapped around his face, but he remained silent. Riven stood in the doorway, realizing too late that he hadn't been called for support. He had been called so Asm wouldn't have to endure the lecture alone.
Slowly, Riven tried to step backward toward the exit. Asm didn't even turn his head. He simply reached out a foot and lightly kicked a small gemstone across the floor. It rolled over the tiles with a tiny clicking sound until it tapped against Riven's shoe.
Nyra's eyes followed the gem. Then she looked up.
"...Riven."
Riven stared at Asm in total betrayal. Asm gave him a small, jagged grin from behind his mask. If I'm getting scolded, you are too.
They stood there while Nyra lectured them on recklessness and the fact that the authorities weren't as blind as they hoped. Riven didn't even try to argue. When she finally finished and walked away, Asm gestured for Riven to follow him.
They entered his room. Asm walked to a bookshelf and pressed down on a specific hardcover. A quiet, heavy click echoed beneath them. The floor shifted, and they began to descend.
But this wasn't the usual laboratory.
When the lights flickered on, they were in a much colder space. Concrete walls. Raw metal beams. The air carried a faint, sharp scent of iron. Hooks were secured into reinforced panels, and chains hung neatly against the stone. A long steel table sat in the center, lined with organized tools—blades, restraints, and clamps. A single drain sat in the middle of the floor.
Riven looked around slowly. "You've had this place all along?"
"No," Asm replied, his voice echoing off the concrete. "The Hero said she'd help me with anything I asked for. So I asked for a private facility. She demanded it from the government, and they handed over the keys."
Asm smirked. "They told me if I ever got caught here, I'd go straight to a black-site prison. The official who signed the papers was shaking."
Riven laughed, a dry, dark sound. "I wish I'd seen that."
They walked to a heavy steel door at the end of the room. There was no handle, only a keypad. Asm entered a long, complex code, and the locks disengaged with a mechanical groan.
Inside, a man was chained upright against the wall. His clothes were torn, his body a mess of dark bruises and shallow cuts. One eye was swollen shut, the other barely flickering. His breathing was shallow and uneven.
Riven stepped inside the cell. "...What did you do?"
"I caught him following me," Asm replied calmly.
"Why would anyone follow you?" Riven asked. "You don't leave any clues right."
Asm's expression shifted. "I didn't think I did. But he said someone named Elizabeth told him to."
Riven looked at him sharply. Asm slowly turned, a terrifying grin forming on his face.
"It seems my mother is trying to make a move."
Riven narrowed his eyes. "How are you sure it's her? How do you even remember a name like that?"
Asm didn't hesitate. "It's part of my Skill. Survival. It functions like a perfect record of my life. I remember her face, her voice, and her name with total clarity because the Skill ensures I never lose a detail that matters to my safety."
He looked back at the chained man, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She thinks I'm a tool. Something she can use and discard when the job is done."
The air in the room grew heavy, the pressure rising until it was hard to breathe. Then Asm inhaled, composing himself in an instant. Riven remained still, watching the transformation.
"So," Riven asked quietly. "What are we going to do?"
Asm was silent for a long moment. Then he started laughing—a short, sharp sound that ended as quickly as it began. He looked directly at Riven.
"I think," he said, his voice as sharp as the blades on the table, "it's time I show my mother who the real king of this world is."
The chained man weakly lifted his head, and for the first time, he felt pure terror.