Moonlight sliced through the arched window, carving a cold, pale path up the grand staircase. At its base, the man hesitated. His breath hung in the air—a fleeting cloud in the manor’s oppressive silence.
?The white marble steps loomed ahead, gleaming like bone. They seemed to pull him downward, a silent warning against his ascent.
?He pushed forward.
?At the top, darkness swallowed the corridor. He moved like a phantom, placing his boots with practiced precision to silence the stone beneath. Soon, voices drifted from a room down the hall—muffled, indistinct, floating like ghosts in the stagnant air.
?“How is it… going?”
?He crept closer, pressing his ear against the ornate mahogany door.
?“…It should be…” The cadence was youthful, smooth.
?Then, a deeper voice cut in—aged, laced with heavy authority. “How is this month’s payment? Are they ready?”
?“There are some shortcomings, but they’re being resolved. Many are volunteering.”
?Payments? Volunteers? The words sent a shiver down the spy’s spine. I need more.
?He crouched, pressing one eye to the cold brass of the keyhole.
?The room was dim. An old man with sharp, sullen features sat at a table, stark white hair glowing in the gloom. He wore a black yukata and sipped tea with terrifying calm. Across from him stood a younger man, back turned, hands clasped rigidly. His hair was ice-blue, shimmering faintly even in the low light.
?“You should return to Ursus. There’s no longer any need for you to stay here. I want this handled without any problems.”
?Ursus. The name struck the spy’s mind like a thunderclap. That’s the lead. I have to report this.
?“Don’t be like that, Grandfather,” the young man replied, his tone almost playful. “I’ve arranged everything. I’m sure we can remain for a few more months. Besides, I’m not finished here—not yet.”
?“A few more months, then.” The old man grunted, staring into his cup.
?Suddenly, his gaze snapped up.
?Straight at the keyhole.
?“…Hm?”
?The spy’s breath hitched. Time froze. It felt physical—a sharp, invisible needle piercing through the door, finding his eye. He scrambled back, heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
?He saw me.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
?Panic seized him. From within, a third voice rose—soft, hesitant.
?“Can you?”
?“Y-yes…”
?The reply made his skin crawl. Another person? He hadn’t seen anyone else. Run. Now.
?Abandoning stealth, he bolted down the corridor. But before he could reach the stairs, a shadow detached itself from the ceiling.
?A figure dropped, blocking his path.
?Desperate, the spy hurled himself at the nearest window.
?“Shit!”
?CRASH.
?The world dissolved into a blur of shattering glass and freezing air. Gravity took him. The fall was long, and he hit the snow-covered ground with a sickening crunch that rattled his teeth.
?“Damn… it hurts.”
?Snow had softened the landing, but fire exploded in his limbs. He struggled to his feet, ignoring the screaming pain. Above, on the balcony, a silhouette vaulted over the railing.
?“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
?He rolled forward an instant before steel hissed through the air, stabbing into the snow where his head had been.
?Monster.
?He vaulted a stone wall, landing hard, forcing his legs to pump. He sprinted through the deep drifts, lungs burning, daring not to look back.
?Silence returned. Only his own ragged breathing filled the night.
?It looks safe. He didn’t follow me.
?He slowed, hands on knees, gasping. Then, he felt it before he heard it. A shift in the air.
?What? How—
?Steel whispered behind him.
?He threw himself forward, but the phantom was faster. A brutal kick caught him in the spine, sending him crashing into a snow-laden tree.
?“Khff—koff…”
?Blood sprayed from his mouth, staining the pristine white snow crimson. His vision blurred.
?When he finally lifted his gaze, death stood before him.
?A man with pale hair held a long, white katana loosely at his side. But his hand… his hand, wrapped around the hilt, was trembling. A fine, constant vibration. The man staggered forward, eyes heavy with hollow exhaustion.
?So, this is the end…
?The world softened at the edges. The last thing he saw was the white katana rising against the cold moon.
?Lucien stood silently over the corpse. His hand still trembled around the blade.
?Crunch. Crunch.
?Footsteps approached from behind.
?“Is it done?”
?It was Cassian. That gentle smile was plastered on his face, as always, but it stopped dead at his eyes. Cold. Observant.
?“…Yes.”
?“They’re truly stubborn, sending people like this.” Cassian’s gaze drifted to Lucien’s shaking hand. “That tremor… it isn’t a good sign. The sword rejects you. It yearns for a new master.”
?Lucien’s eyes narrowed. His grip tightened on the hilt, knuckles white, but he said nothing.
?On their way back toward the manor, a silhouette emerged from the shadows.
?“Yo! Seems I missed the party.”
?Zaek strolled toward them, hands in his pockets, waving casually. A familiar, lazy smirk played on his lips.
?Cassian’s smile flickered for a fraction of a second. Lucien’s eyes widened in genuine alarm.
?It didn’t take long for Cassian to recover—his mask snapping back into place. “Just a big rat we had to deal with.”
?“A ‘rat,’ huh? Must’ve been a loud one.” Zaek’s eyes drifted past them to the body in the distance, then back. “You two seem to be hunting a lot of rats lately.”
?“What can we do? Someone keeps letting them loose.”
?“And I’m sure that someone has their reasons,” Zaek replied. His smirk didn't fade, but it sharpened into something knowing.
?“Who knows? People usually have their… unique tastes.”
?“Is that so?” Zaek’s gaze flicked pointedly to Lucien’s trembling hand. “Was this rat too big for you? Or did you injure yourself during the chase?”
?Lucien quickly hid the hand behind his back, gaze fixed on the ground. “I—I just hit it against something. It’s nothing serious.”
?Zaek studied him for a long moment, eyes narrowing like a cat’s.
?“Get well soon, then.” He let out a loud, exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms. “I’m heading back to my room. Good luck with your… rat hunt.”
?As his figure faded into the darkness, Cassian watched him go.
?He muttered under his breath, distinct in the cold air.
?“As if he isn’t the biggest rat of them all.”
Which one had a more impressive prologue?
