I was walking along the second floor of the enormous mansion I found myself in. Well, "mansion" didn't quite cut it... it looked more like a small shopping mall disguised as a residence.
A single glance was enough to notice decorations that could easily cost as much as a middle-class home. Even the tuxedo-style uniform I had been assigned must have been worth six months of an average salary.
On this floor alone, there were about seventy people. Most sat at round tables draped in golden tablecloths, while a few stood chatting animatedly with glasses of champagne in hand.
From a distance, it was nearly impossible to make out any single conversation. The constant hum of voices, mixed with the live music coming from the main hall, created a veil of background noise.
The glasses of champagne on the tray I held in my left hand were disappearing quickly. Only one of the twelve remained when a soft yet firm voice called out to me.
"Excuse me, waiter... may I take the last glass?" said the man who had appeared beside me.
He was an older gentleman. His silver hair and the wrinkles on his face betrayed his age, though his robust build and height around 1.80 meters commanded respect.
"Of course, sir," I replied instantly, offering the tray so he could take the glass.
"Thank you," he said with a small smile as he took it.
Just as I turned to go fetch more champagne, his voice called out again.
"Excuse me."
"Yes? Do you need anything else, sir?" I asked, a bit surprised.
"Is this your first time working an event like this?"
"Yes, sir. It's my first," I answered with a slight smile.
"I figured. You seem a little tense. And seeing how young you are, I guessed that might be the reason."
"You got me, sir," I replied with a hint of resignation.
"Ha! Don't worry, son. The night won't last forever. And I'll tell you right now, you're doing a fine job," he said, winking.
"Thank you, sir," I replied politely and walked away.
An experienced eye can spot my nerves with ease… I thought. I still have a lot to improve. I wish that was the real reason I felt on the edge but it wasn't.
Even though it was true that this was my first time at an event like this, the real cause of my tension was something else entirely.
As I subtly maneuvered around the tables and guests on my way to the kitchen, I heard the front door open. My body froze instantly. The music, the voices... everything faded away.
The only sound my ears picked up was the heavy creak of that door, which had remained shut all night. It wasn't the entrance the rest of the guests had used—those came in through the many other doors of the building. That one only opened when the truly important people arrived.
Almost unconsciously, I walked over to the second-floor balcony railing. From there, I could clearly see the main hall. For a moment, my job stopped mattering. My eyes were fixed on the figures walking through the now fully opened grand doors.
Even from more than five meters up, I recognized their faces immediately. After all, they were the event's organizers.
Five people. At the back of the group walked two middle-aged men. Both stood around 1.90 meters tall. One had fair skin and a solid, well-trained physique. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, contrasting with the thick beard that brushed the bottom of his neck.
The second was paler and slimmer, with a more ectomorphic build, though his body still showed signs of strength. His blonde hair was neatly combed to the right, and he had no facial hair at all.
To their right walked a woman, a bit shorter around 1.80 meters with skin as pale as snow. Her long black hair was tied with a red ribbon into a ponytail that reached her lower back.
All three wore dark sunglasses that hid their eyes and impeccably tailored business suits. They walked in a line behind two others.
The fourth was a young man, clearly the youngest of the group. He had fair skin, light brown hair slicked back, a clean-shaven face, and striking emerald green eyes that radiated confidence. His long strides and casual walk, with his hands in his pockets, gave off an almost tangible arrogance.
The last, walking a few steps ahead of him, was the oldest-looking of the group. His skin, while still light, had a slightly darker tone. His light brown hair, streaked with white, was combed to the left. His beard was neatly trimmed. Like the younger one, his eyes were emerald green—undeniable proof of their blood relation.
But unlike the younger man, there was no arrogance in his gaze—only a determination as vast as the sky. His firm steps echoed through the entire hall.
When they reached the center of the grand room, they stopped. No one dared speak. Everyone, like me, watched them in silence.
The emotions in the air varied; admiration, respect... and fear.
As for me, what I felt most was resignation.
For the first time that night, my shoulders relaxed. My spine, previously stiff as a board, curved slightly. I placed both hands on the railing, inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and exhaled. Then I looked up.
Through the glass dome that crowned the building, the night sky unfolded in all its splendor—a blanket of stars surrounding a waxing crescent moon.
For a moment, I was hypnotized.
I closed my eyes again, this time unconsciously. I began to relive every decision and step that had brought me here. But none of it mattered anymore. Nothing could change what was about to happen.
The tension in my body was the last echo of a fading hope that maybe, just maybe, nothing would happen. But that hope had already been crushed. All that was left was to accept that I would have to fight for my life, and for those I care about.
As I kept staring at the sky, a deep, commanding voice broke the silence.
From the center of the hall, the leader spoke:
"It is a pleasure to have you all here. I hope you're enjoying the evening. As you know, each of you has been invited with a purpose to witness the announcement the Morgan family wishes to make to every one."
"Given the importance of the matter, I Joshep Morgan, current head of the family, will reveal it personally."
The moment he finished, the floor just in front of him began to open. Slowly, a small platform rose, carrying an object hidden beneath a black cloth.
All eyes turned toward it, filled with curiosity and anticipation, unaware of what lay underneath.
All... except for a few.
I was one of them.
I knew exactly what was under that damn cloth. I knew what would happen the moment it was revealed.
I took one last deep breath, still looking at the sky. I had always believed in the existence of a god, though I had never been religious. Begging or praying to such a being always seemed pointless to me. I doubted a force that transcends time and space could share or even understand human morality.
What must happen, will happen regardless of what I or anyone else may wish.
So why fight, if everything is already written?
Because I'm mortal.
I am just a mortal, and deep inside, there's a part of me that refuses to accept a prewritten fate. A part that still believes I can choose. And that's why, today, tomorrow, and always, I'll fight to my last breath for the things I dream of.
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By the end of the night, of the 220 people present, only 7 witnessed the sunrise.