"They had left a trail of terror behind them, and now they were headed for the Mayor's mansion to end him once and for all. The movement was overwhelming—so powerful that other criminal organizations, unable to resist, chose to align with them, securing a place for themselves in the new era that loomed ahead." Reggie continued.
---
The massive van rolled forward, its engine rumbling like a beast anticipating its next kill. It came to a slow halt before a towering black iron gate. Beyond it lay a sprawling courtyard, leading up to the grand white mansion that loomed in the darkness.
Behind the van, hundreds of men stood in formation, each armed and ready. The night was silent, save for the sound of shifting boots and the distant echoes of the city's ruin.
Stefan slowly raised the megaphone to his mouth. "Come out, Mr. Mayor. Let's not make this harder than it needs to be. Opening fire in here would be... disadvantageous for both of us. After all, this is our future home."
His voice echoed through the massive courtyard, slamming against the mansion's walls before fading into silence.
Then, a presence emerged. A silhouette, darker than the shadows themselves. The soft, deliberate tap of his heels against the floor cut through the stillness. The air grew thick with tension as countless eyes squinted, struggling to make out his figure.
He moved slowly, one step at a time, his presence swallowing the space around him. Then, with a final step, he broke free from the darkness.
But it wasn't the Mayor.
A young man stepped forward, his pristine white hair almost glowing under the dim courtyard lights. Silver eyes, cold and unreadable, locked onto the gathered army. He wore an outdated black suit, tailored to perfection, his sharp jawline accentuating an aura of quiet menace. He couldn't have been older than his mid-20s, yet something in his gaze burned with a darkness far more devious than whatever the Salvatore Brothers had in mind.
The army moved in unison—guns raised, safeties off, the simultaneous cocking of triggers slicing through the silence. Yet, the man remained unfazed.
Damon and Stefan exchanged a glance, their brows furrowing.
"Hey… you're not the Mayor," Stefan muttered, eyes narrowing.
The man's lips curled slightly.
"You're right," he said, his voice steady, unwavering. "My name is Belmont… Clad Belmont."
---
"No way… Belmont?!" Milo blurted out.
Reggie shot him a glare. "Could you let me finish?"
"Oh… sorry." Milo shrank back.
---
"Well, Belmont!… You're not the one we're looking for. Whoever you are, I suggest you run, because on my command, these men will open fire on you," Damon warned.
Belmont smirked. "Are you sure about that, Damon Salvatore?"
Damon's eyes widened at the mention of his name.
"What if I told you that every single one of you is standing on a bomb? And if any of you move an inch… it will go off," Belmont said, his voice steady, unwavering.
A wave of distress rippled through the army. Murmurs spread. Hands holding guns trembled. Even Damon and Stefan hesitated, an unfamiliar chill creeping over them.
"You're bluffing," Damon said, but there was a crack in his voice.
Belmont took a slow step forward. "I'm a Belmont. We never bluff. In fact, with a single snap of my fingers… the bombs will detonate."
Their fear tightened around their chests like a vice, each breath growing heavier.
Belmont raised his hand, thumb pressing against his middle finger, poised to snap.
"Let's strike a bargain!" Stefan blurted, desperation clawing at his voice.
Belmont's silver eyes gleamed coldly. "I don't bargain with thieves."
Snap!
In the same instant, a massive explosion erupted from the heart of the army, engulfing them in a blinding orange inferno. The glow illuminated Belmont's sharp features, reflecting in his cold silver eyes.
The signal had been sent.
Helicopters thundered into the sky from the mansion's rooftop. Military vans roared through the courtyard, bursting through the gates and surging into the city.
At the center of it all, the mastermind stood still, watching his plan unfold, Gotham's reckoning had begun.
---
"Belmont was the one who saved us—every single damn one of us that day. No one even knew who the hell he was until then. He just showed up—funnier still, at the Mayor's house. And since that day, he's been Gotham's number one ally," Reggie said, slowly leaning back against his chair.
"And that day marked the end of The Age of Anarchy in Gotham one man single handedly shifted Gotham into another era The Belmont Regime."
****
The Belmont Mansion
Belmont lounged in his chair, fingers idly tracing the armrest, a faint smile playing on his lips. His silver eyes gleamed, lost in the echoes of the past.
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"What's so amusing, Master?" Alfred asked, his usual composure tinged with curiosity.
Belmont blinked, returning to the present.
He slowly straightened his back, the smile still playing on his lips. "I was just reflecting on the past," he said, his voice smooth. "How I crawled my way up, and in the end, used The Salvatore Brothers to secure the title of Gotham's number one ally."
Alfred chuckled softly. "It was all about timing, Master."
"Exactly," he replied, leaning back slightly in his chair. "I could've stepped in months before, but waiting until Gotham was on the edge—that was impeccable. And if it wasn't for you, I never would've learned of their plans."
A slight chuckle escaped Alfred's lips, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
"You know," he began, his tone more contemplative now, "I never really asked you this, but what made you betray The Salvatore Brothers? They were on the verge of overtaking the city, and with you by their side, you could've had it all. So why turn your back on them and help me instead?"
"When the Crimson Pact first began under the leadership of The Salvatore Brothers, they were stable. They knew what they were doing. But as time went on, and they grew more powerful, they lost sight of their original goal. Instead of securing Gotham's future, they began chasing an unrealistic dream, dragging the city back into the dark ages of slavery and corruption."
Alfred paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"Luckily, at that same time, I came across a man who shared a similar ideology—but he wanted to ascend Gotham, to make it better. All at the cost of his name being number one." Alfred's eyes narrowed, his voice steady. "I knew that if you continued with your plan, the Salvatore Brothers would have easily swallowed you whole. So, I made a choice."
"I helpedyou, Belmont. I helped you defeat them because even I knew that despite my cunning and intellect, I couldn't single-handedly slay two devils. So, I handed over the sword to you. I gave you the power, and I told you to do it."
"In the end, Master, it's always about being on the winning side," Alfred said, his voice grave, the weight of his words hanging in the air.