An attempt to usurp the throne of the Supreme King leaves the inner circle of the Amit family curious. Without any other leads to follow, Talen reluctantly winds up before the very man who raised him, with long gray hair in a mullet, dark brown skin and a short beard that surrounded most of his mouth. His father, Eros, chuckled with closed eyes.

"So, after ten years, my oldest son comes to visit me out of the blue. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Two nights ago, three Syndicate assassins attempted to usurp the Crown but ultimately failed. And just last night we were attacked by a whole platoon of Syndicate assassins too. One individual who goes by the alias 'Angel' was ordering them from the shadows, but for that to occur, there must exist a being powerful enough to whip multiple Fate-users into submission. Mom suspected you. Do you know anything or are you just as boring as ever?" Talen asked.

His father raised one hand and scratched his beard while contemplating. Though it was indecipherable from this distance, Talen was sure comical mutters were slipping out of his old man's wrinkled lips.

Rolling his eyes, Tal vented a sigh. "What a pain..."

Eros pointed finger-guns at him and grinned widely. “Nope!"

"Thought as much. Anyway, that's all I was curious about. See you never.”

Talen opened the door to the car behind him and slipped into the driver's seat. Soon after, the vehicle rode down the road and vanished into the rising sun of the morning day. Watching from afar, his hands still concealed, Eros's smile faded from his face.

"Now then..."

The older man turned around, spotting the winged shadows of multiple angel-like creatures emerge from behind the tombs surrounding him. Skin shaded entirely golden, one Angel dared to speak while his comrades appeared behind him.

"Eros Amit of the Unconquerable technique, you are designated for destruction and are to be eliminated under the orders of the Angel. I am the Archangel Metatron and your obliteration is my satisfaction!"

"Well, it's certainly been a while since anyone's dared to try and fight me. I can't say I haven't missed the thrill of battling, though. Ah, what to do, what to do..." Eros looked up, breathing into the sky.

"Is your hesitance a sign of submission?" the Archangel asked.

Eros snickered. "No—“ Cracking his knuckles into his palm, he menacingly smirked. "I'm starting to get excited. Heh.”

Metatron manifested a golden spear, turning it around and aiming the end at his foe. A golden beam emitted from the weapon, momentarily soaring through the air at breakneck speeds before Eros reacted. He darted ahead, dodging the blast and punching his foe in no time flat.

Thrown following the attack, Metatron regained his composure upon flipping into mid-air; four golden wings flapping on his back.

‘Kismet Abolishment.’

After touching the tips of his thumbs and index fingers together, Eros watched his angelic opponent fall to the ground without his golden wings.

‘What is this stagnation? Why do I feel so… drained?’ The archangel looked at his palm, a worried expression staining his gorgeous face.

Imbued with Metatron’s stolen aura, Eros kneed the archangel in the chin, watching him fly back onto the pavement. While he allowed the creature to begrudgingly recover from his attack, the other angels started ambushing from behind.

Swaying away from a sword slash aimed at his back, Eros turned around, continuously weaving more blades coming his way. While his blue-purple pupils mostly focused on the weapons’ sharpness, he occasionally shifted his gaze to notice the attacker’s appearance.

‘They all have the same golden skin but four white eyes layered atop each other. That main one had long glowing hair but this one has blond spikes. If I remember my religion correctly, that one should’ve been Metatron and this one should be Michael.’

Once the sword nicked his cheek, Eros’s palm shot ahead. Michael’s eyes widened, spotting the imminent shape of the hand move before it stabbed into his chest. A shockwave emanated from the impact, and the swordsman Angel’s breath hitched, stumbling back while glaring at his enemy as he came dashing forward.

Tightening his hold over both swords, Michael rapidly slashed, hoping his chaotic attacks would pierce his desired rival. Eros’s hands extended, halting the blades’ breakneck trajectory by grasping them in his palms. With just one clutch, both swords were rendered useless, for fragments of the angelic blades scattered about the ground in front of Amit’s feet.

A puzzled expression staining his face, Michael retracted from the shadow Eros cast over the pitiful Angel. He only had the chance to look up once before Amit kicked the archangel straight across the face.

‘I should refrain from killing at least two. One to interrogate and another to confirm what they say. That being said, I should end this. Quickly.’

More archangels came out of the woodwork, each clad in their differing designs. One feminine Angel wielding a golden staff dug the end of her weapon into the ground, to which Eros instantly jumped back. Unfortunately, he’d stumbled into the bulkier arms of another Angel waiting behind him. Imprisoned in a headlock, Eros groaned. Just then, the final archangel landed before him, this time with demonic horns while still resembling a heavenly body.

Just when they thought they had him cornered, Eros warped from the bulky Angel’s hold. Reappearing behind Raphael, he swept at his feet and punched him in the back, forming a crater beneath his build. The horned archangel kicked at his face, watching Amit gradually dodge; hands pocketed.

‘This one’ll do.’

Catching the Angel’s fist, Eros backhanded him, blood entering the open air above them. Yearning to use that same hand to strike his foe again in the gut, Amit’s eyes widened after noticing his missing hand. Moving his grip from the horned creature’s fist to his shoulder, Eros turned around, spotting the staff-wielding feminine archangel he’d initially dodged.

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‘She’s fast. Must be Gabriel.’

Gabriel pointed their staff ahead. “Halt, monster! Spill the secrets behind your power or suffer the consequences from God Himself!” she cried.

Eros turned toward her, sheepishly scratching his nape. “Uh, sorry but I can’t do that. You seem like a pretty lady though. Maybe if you go out with me, I’ll tell you my secret,” he winked.

“Such insolence will not be tolerated! I shall bring you to Him myself!”

“Wrong answer.”

Before she got the chance to summon her invisible speed, her pupils shrunk, leaving her surprised and stationery. Despite him still standing in front of her, a sharp pain plagued her center. She checked her bust—nothing was irregular. Gabriel looked back at him, spotting his raised hand and the Fate aura surrounding it.

“Innermost Annihilation.”

Gabriel’s body folded in on itself, limbs crumpling and leaking blood that poured onto the concrete. By the time he had finished using his technique, the archangel’s body was nothing more than a bloody ball of twisted bones and flesh leaking onto the hardened floor.

Eros dramatically sighed, hands on his hips. “How disappointing. I thought I’d be able to see something intriguing but unfortunately, your weakness overwhelmed any potential you might’ve had. I guess that’s why you died so easily. It makes me want to wallow. That being said, I’m not stupid. I wanted a challenge but whoever’s watching… wanted a report, right?”

He upturned his head, spotting the hovering drone overlooking the fight. The mastermind behind the tech’s lenses smirked, chuckling in disbelief at the sight of Amit catching the device from mid-air. Landing back against the ground, the drone in hand, Eros examined the technology’s circular shape.

“Curious…”

Five minutes later.

Talen pulled into his childhood home’s driveway, closing the door behind him and tapping a button on his car keys to allow the rooftop to peel over the convertible. Allowing the mechanical whirring to occur in the background, the black-haired lawyer wandered over the grass and opened the door to his family’s home.

“I’m home!” Tal entered and rubbed his nape with closed eyes.

“Welcome home, son.”

That intonation—! Hadn’t he just escaped such taunting smoothness? Upon peeking into the kitchen, it was apparent his troubles had followed him, for his father sat behind the dining room table; sipping from a coffee mug. Lowering the cup from his lips, Eros grinned.

“No worries, I come bearing gifts. So, why don’t you call your mother down? It’s been a while since I’d seen her gorgeous—“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.” A familiar feminine voice enunciated.

Talen’s eyes widened. Moving away from the right-hand doorframe and peeking into the kitchen, he revealed the familiar shape of his mother behind him. The father quickly stood up, pushing back the seat behind him with wide eyes.

“Valentina—“ Eros stepped around the table, closing in on her dimly-lit figure. “—you look beautiful.”

His face some inches away from hers, she raised her hand and slapped him right across the face. Talen stifled a chuckle with his hand while both Ava and Archer peeking from the living room watched with widened eyes.

“Ah… guess I deserve that,” he uttered.

“YOU GUESS?! Ten years. Ten GODDAMN years, I’ve been without you! Leaving in the middle of the night without saying goodbye, abandoning your wife and kids for the sake of some self-righteous protection you undoubtedly still believe in! We’re long past ‘I guess’ at this point, you selfish dickhead!” Valentina turned away from him, arms crossed and eyes brimming with tears. “After all we’ve been through, did you think I could forget about us so easily?”

Eros attempted to step forward. “Val, I—“

“Why have you come here?“ Talen asked, turning his father around with his hand on his shoulder. “State your business… then go.”

The man dejectedly sighed, shoving one hand into his pocket as his son removed his grip.

Eros pointed to the disabled drone on the dining room table. “After you left, I was attacked by a group of five archangels. When I finally dispersed them, I found this drone hovering over me. It probably watched the whole battle just to evaluate my abilities. I noticed it after I finished dealing with them and I only managed to use two of my abilities so, there’s that upside, I guess.”

“Noted.” Tal glanced at the drone, shortly returning to his father’s gaze. “Did you find anything else?” he asked.

“I’m not as much of a technical person as you are so I can’t say. That being said, I remember these drones being used during covert ops when you were with the Syndicate. It’s obvious that whoever’s attempting to usurp the Crown is indeed part of that group, but what of the official head?” Eros suggested.

“Anthony, huh?” asked Talen, scratching his chin.

Eros nodded. “That’s the one with the ulterior demon, right? Whatever happened to that kid anyway?”

…

May 13th, 2022.

In Barronia’s financial district, under the veil of evening’s setting sun, Talen walked in through the penthouse’s front door. Thinking him to be a patron, the two guards by the entrance nodded; the valet allowed him in with a greeting.

“Welcome back, sir.”

After some more walking, he noticed the receptionist was busy talking to another patron. Seeing his opportunity with the opening elevator door on the far left from her desk, he slipped inside after a suited man exited. The doors quickly shut after he pushed the button ingrained with the number eleven.

Pressing his thumb against a big red button produced what awaited Talen when he reached the eleventh floor: armed riflemen. Each guard fitted with a laser sight trained on every corner of Amit’s unarmed person.

Revealing his hands from his pants pockets, the lawyer sighed. “I just wanna talk with Anthony Whitlock. Nothing more, nothing less.” he clarified.

“We have orders to shoot on sight. Why should we believe you?” One of the guards asked.

“Seriously?”.

The guards looked at one another, reluctantly lowering their guns and clearing a path to the door at the end of the hall. Pushing it open revealed a cozy interior, fit for someone of equal stature. The wide window caught his eye, allowing him to peer beyond the glass’s border to spot the heavenly kingdom. Stabbed into the middle were many seats, a casual coffee table slam pack in the center separating the couches, chairs, and curved table.

“Hello, old friend.”

Talen turned to face the source of that voice. Upon recognizing that familiar face, he formed a soft smile; eye muscles relaxing simultaneously. Stepping down the stairs leading to his quarters above revealed the light-haired man.

The so-called ‘Head’ of the Syndicate of Dictation: Anthony Whitlock.

“What a pleasant surprise.”