The moon hung high over Moravuno, casting long shadows over the quiet streets. Scorpio moved through the city like a whisper on the wind, his every step calculated, his every move deliberate. His mind, however, was anything but calm. The weight of his discovery—the betrayal of Alren Vos—hung heavy in the air, but the task at hand was far from over. The hunt had begun.
He reached the outskirts of the city where the urban sprawl gave way to the looming silhouette of Perol, the heart of the Ashen Pact Syndicate's operations. It was here that the true conspirators had woven their webs of deceit, pulling the strings of the Moravuno government and orchestrating their plans from the shadows. Scorpio's mission was clear: dismantle the syndicate, strike at its core, and leave no trace of its influence behind.
The city was eerily quiet tonight, the usual hum of activity absent. Scorpio's senses were heightened, and every flicker of movement, every sound, was registered in his mind. There was something unsettling about this silence—it felt like a warning, a prelude to something much larger.
As he approached Perol's outer gates, Scorpio's thoughts flashed to the conversations he had with the Big Four. They had all agreed that this was not just about stopping Maverick or even dealing with Alren Vos. This was about a much greater war, one that could change the very fate for Moravuno. And Scorpio had no intention of failing.
But he wasn't alone in the shadows.
He had sensed it moments before, a subtle disturbance in the air, as though something—or someone—was trailing him. Scorpio's body tensed, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. He stopped, his back straightening as he scanned the darkened rooftops surrounding him. There, perched like a predator in the night, was the faint outline of a figure. The presence was cold, calculating—an adversary.
Before he could react, the figure moved, disappearing into the darkness.
Not tonight, Scorpio thought.
He took a deep breath, his Awakening Eyes glowing faintly as they scanned the surroundings, piecing together the layout of the city in an instant. His target was near, he could feel it. But who was this unknown watcher? And why had they been following him?
Scorpio wasn't about to give up his trail so easily. He moved faster now, his speed unmatched, as he followed the faint trail of disturbance in the air. His target wasn't trying to hide—they wanted him to chase, to play the game. It was a dangerous move, but Scorpio was no stranger to danger.
In the distance, the silhouette of Perol loomed larger, the heart of the syndicate closer than ever. He had to push forward. He had no time to waste on a shadow in the night. But still, the feeling gnawed at him—a sensation that there was more at stake here than just a simple hunt.
The chase led him through the crisscross of dark alleyways and narrow streets, past abandoned structures and hidden passageways. Scorpio was relentless, his pursuit unwavering. He was determined to get to the root of this conspiracy, to find the source of the rot that had infected his world.
And then, without warning, he stopped.
A soft rustle of fabric. A breath on the wind.
The figure appeared once again, this time standing at the edge of a rooftop overlooking the street below. Scorpio's eyes locked onto the figure, his heart beating faster. This wasn't a random observer. This person knew exactly what they were doing, and they had been toying with him for a reason.
The figure stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, their face hidden beneath a hood, their presence like an enigma. Scorpio's hand instinctively reached for his blade, but the figure raised a gloved hand, a gesture that stopped him in his tracks.
"I see you've come a long way, Scorpio," the figure's voice was smooth, almost mocking, but there was an edge to it that sent a chill down Scorpio's spine.
The name... Scorpio's mind raced. He had not expected this.
"Who are you?" Scorpio demanded, his voice cold and sharp.
The figure stepped out from the shadows, revealing more of their silhouette, tall and lean. The moonlight caught their features briefly—enough for Scorpio to see the piercing eyes locked onto his.
The figure smiled, but it wasn't a smile that offered comfort. It was a smile of understanding, of knowledge.
"I'm just someone who's been watching... waiting," the figure replied. "And you, Scorpio, are far too important to be left alone in the dark."
A moment of silence passed before Scorpio responded, his voice full of resolve.
"Stay out of my way," he warned.
The figure chuckled darkly, the sound of it echoing through the empty streets. "I don't think you understand. I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to guide you."
Scorpio's eyes narrowed, suspicion rising like a tide. "Guide me? Who are you really working for?"
The figure tilted their head, the smile never faltering. "That's the question, isn't it?"
"Enough of this," Scorpio muttered under his breath, his voice laced with annoyance. His hand twitched, fingers brushing against the hilt of his blade.
The figure cocked their head slightly, their voice smooth, calm, and dripping with amusement. "You can't hide the anger, Scorpio. It's written all over you."
"Shut the hell up," Scorpio growled, his temper rising. "You've been following me long enough. I'm not some damn animal for you to toy with."
"You're right," the figure said, their voice colder now, the mockery gone. "I'm not toying with you. I'm here to stop you."
Scorpio's hand went to his blade, his eyes narrowing. "Stop me? Are you really that fucking stupid?"
The figure didn't respond immediately. Instead, they raised their hands, not in surrender, but in challenge. "You think you're the only one capable of making moves in this city, Scorpio? I know what you're after. But you don't even realize what you're up against. You'll never make it inside Perol—at least, not alive."
"You talk a lot of shit for someone hiding in the dark," Scorpio sneered. He could feel the adrenaline surging through him now. This was no longer a game of cat and mouse. This was war. His war.
Without warning, the figure lunged at him, fast and deadly. Scorpio reacted instinctively, drawing his blade in a flash. The two clashed in the middle of the street, the sound of metal scraping against metal ringing in the night air.
The figure was skilled, no doubt about it. They moved with precision, each strike calculated, each move designed to push Scorpio off-balance. But Scorpio wasn't about to let anyone get the better of him—not tonight.
Their blades met again, sparks flying. Scorpio twisted his blade, parrying the figure's strike with a brutal force that sent them stumbling back. He didn't give them a chance to recover. He was on them in an instant, his fist connecting with their chest, sending them sprawling to the ground.
"Not so tough now, huh?" Scorpio spat, stepping forward to finish it. But the figure wasn't done. They were faster than he'd expected, rolling backward and springing to their feet with a swift kick that hit Scorpio square in the chest. He staggered back, cursing under his breath.
"You're good," the figure said, a hint of respect in their voice, but it was quickly overshadowed by something colder, darker. "But not good enough."
Scorpio clenched his jaw, his eyes blazing with fury. He charged again, his blade cutting through the air, aiming for the figure's throat. But they were ready, blocking the strike with a force that almost made Scorpio lose his footing. The figure pushed him back, their foot sweeping out to knock his legs out from under him.
Before Scorpio could react, the figure was on him again, their movements so fluid, so quick, it was like they were reading his every move. He gritted his teeth, his instincts telling him to back off, but his pride wouldn't let him.
"This is pointless," Scorpio growled, finally stepping back, panting, his body starting to feel the strain of the fight. "Who the hell are you? Why the hell are you trying to kill me?"
The figure hesitated for a moment, then lowered their weapon slightly, as though they were considering something. For the first time in their fight, they seemed… unsure.
"You don't get it, do you?" the figure said, their voice softening slightly. "You're just a pawn in a much bigger game."
Scorpio didn't let up. "I don't give a damn about your games. If you're not going to give me answers, then I'll just have to take them from you."
But before Scorpio could make a move, the figure finally spoke, their voice barely above a whisper.
"Fine. You want answers?" They took off their hood.
And that was when Scorpio froze. His breath caught in his throat.
The person standing before him—was someone he knew.
It was the last person he expected to see, someone he thought he'd left behind long ago.
"Surprised?" the figure said with a sly grin. "Did you really think you knew everything, Scorpio?"
"Gregg?" Scorpio breathed, his voice thick with disbelief.
The man that was revealed before was no other than Gregg Hannes-the son of Monarch Lucan, The Second Prince of Moravuno.
Gregg stood there, his face illuminated by the cold moonlight, his eyes gleaming with something darker than Scorpio had ever seen in him. The last time Scorpio had seen him, they were on the same side—back when they had worked together as part of the elite Moravuno Intelligence Unit, before everything went to hell.
Gregg chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "It's been a long time, Scorpio. But I guess that's how it always goes, right? We all get left behind, one way or another. Guess I'm the one who got smarter."
Scorpio's mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. "What the hell is this, Gregg? Why are you working with them? With the syndicate?"
Gregg stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "Because I realized something. I realized that the only way to survive this war is to stop fighting for people like you. You always follow orders, always play by the rules, always thinking you're on the side of the 'good guys.' But that's a fucking lie, Scorpio. There's no side to this war. There's just power. And right now, I'm on the side that's going to win."
"Bullshit," Scorpio spat, his hands clenched around his blade. "You've lost your mind, Gregg. The syndicate? They're just using you."
Gregg smiled coldly, his eyes flashing. "You still don't get it, do you? It was never about loyalty. It was about what's real. And now, Scorpio, I'm real."
In a blur, Gregg lunged at him again, faster than Scorpio had ever seen him move. This wasn't the man he once knew—this was something else entirely.
Scorpio barely managed to block the strike, his blade clashing against Gregg's. But Gregg was relentless, pushing him back, their fight a chaotic whirlwind of steel and fury.
"You're a goddamn traitor, Gregg!" Scorpio roared, but the words only seemed to fuel the man further.
"I'm surviving," Gregg shot back, his voice dripping with venom. "And in this world, survival is all that matters."
The two clashed again, their weapons a blur in the night, and in that moment, Scorpio realized something: This fight wasn't just about survival anymore. It was personal.