The Masquerade

6

----------------------------------------

"Two conditions. Non-negotiable. Then... we have a deal."

The memory drifted away like mist after rain. Thunder murmured low on the horizon as he made his way to the gate, while Pride’s essence encircled him in the unseen, threading into his thoughts with a voice rich and ancient.

'Tell me, Blackwood... have I not exceeded your expectations?'

‘Premature to revel just yet,’ he thought, his designer boot landing sharply on the cobblestones. David’s absence was noted—tardiness was hardly a quality he tolerated. Perhaps it was time to seek out a chauffeur who grasped the concept of competence.

Pride chuckled softly, an echo of ages past. ‘Your caution serves you well. But soon enough, you shall witness the fruits of our agreement.’

He smirked but chose silence. Just then, his sleek black electric car glided to a stop before him. David tumbled out, his normally pristine uniform showing signs of haste as he scrambled to open the rear door. “My deepest apologies, sir! I encountered unforeseen technical difficulties.”

“Spare me your excuses,” he brushed off the apology. Technology was meant to serve him, not betray him. The cryptocrash had nearly drained his wealth, and now even these automated vehicles dared to fail him. He missed the days of classic petrol engines—antiques now, though flaunting one would only enrage the tree-huggers.

He wasn’t in the mood for their whiny lectures about the dying polar bears or whatever else they worshipped these days. As if their opinions mattered.

“The car will handle the ride just fine, even if the forecast predicts a tumultuous night ahead, sir,” David said, flashing a grin that felt as forced as his words.

He didn’t bother with a response. Sliding into the leather seat, he kept his eyes on the dark, swirling clouds ahead. Storms were approaching—both on the horizon and within his own life.

"Where to, sir?” The chauffeur inquired, glancing up at him through the rearview mirror.

He reclined, his half-lidded gaze fixed on the invisible horizon. “Home,” he replied, savouring the word. It bore the weight of inevitability. Pride had made promises, and he had never doubted their fulfilment. Everything would be his—the rightful heir to the Blackwoods, with prized estates stretching across every major city on the continents.

The cost? Trivial. But the rewards… oh, the rewards. Power was power.

As the car glided through the lush garden, the first raindrops tapped against the windows. He glanced back at City Hall receding in the distance, a smile playing at his lips as he thought of those pawns.

Did those kids really think they had the upper hand? How charming. If they wished to play spies, perhaps they should consider a more subtle appearance and a persona less blindingly obvious. The image of that silver-haired girl drifted into his thoughts—she stood out brilliantly in a room of pretentious elites, as though she belonged to another world. A mythical creature amongst mortals. A fairy tale.

Did she truly think he hadn’t noticed her? Did they genuinely believe they’d stumbled upon Pride’s appearance around his laughably inept brother? Pride had orchestrated every move, every seeming coincidence, like a grandmaster positioning pieces for checkmate while their opponent still learned the rules.

Pride had truly thought of everything.

Once past the main gates and the swarm of reporters, he removed his golden mask and poured himself a generous glass of Macallan 18, neat, relishing the slow burn of the amber liquid warming him from within.

This was power—the kind you could taste, and the kind that separated men like him from servants like David.

Noah shut his eyes briefly, savouring the satisfaction of near success as traffic began to build. Saturday nights in Alchymia were always the same—hordes of nobodies indulging in their laughably routine nightlife, each pretending to be something more than ordinary.

The senator’s fingers drummed in time with the classical symphony, echoing off the glass as the car crawled through traffic. His icy blue gaze gave away nothing, though his heart pulsed erratically. Success felt certain. But… how could Pride orchestrate its moves on Thomas when it was here with him?

Suddenly, the piercing shriek of a police siren sliced through the air, followed by a fleet of patrol cars barreling past in the wrong lane, urgently racing toward City Hall. Noah’s whisky sloshed over the rim of his crystal tumbler as the car braked hard.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Senator demanded.

David rubbed the back of his neck as rain pelted the windshield in sheets, the wipers struggling to keep pace. “Well, sir, they do say one shouldn’t trust an algorithm to navigate rush hour… in the rain.”

“Address me as Senator Blackwood,” Noah snapped, his voice frosty. Lightning crackled, casting dark lines over his face. “And I sincerely hope you didn’t think autopilot was sufficient for someone of my stature.”

“Of course not, Senator Blackwood." David's eyes darted to the rearview mirror, meeting Noah's glacial stare for a fraction of a second before dropping away. "At least this time we can attribute the chaos to something less fallible than human error." He forced a weak laugh. "Besides, statistically speaking—"

Enough. “You're fired," Noah snapped. "If you can't outperform a computer, what use are you?"

“Do you mean... i-immediately?" David's voice cracked. "I'd hate to leave you stranded in this downpour, sir—I mean—Senator."

Noah's jaw clenched. "This is utterly absurd—just drive!"

As David stammered his response, a delicious realisation dawned on Noah. Those sirens, that destination—

‘All games must come to an end,’ Pride, hearing his thought, whispered in his mind.

‘Ever the clueless Tommy,’ he mused, recalling his brother’s arrogance. ‘So easily manipulated. The Blackwood legacy was always meant for me—its rightful heir. Sharing it with you? That was never part of the plan.’

His smile deepened as rain hammered the glass roof. It was a night not unlike this—a rain-soaked evening a month and a half prior when he believed he had lost everything. Then Pride had arrived—an ancient blight, the essence of all sin—and chosen him to carry its power.

He had considered the offer under two conditions. First, Pride would ensure his reelection. His reputation was crumbling, his policies shredded by critics, and, worst of all, his idiot brother had entered the race. There was no room here for two tigers.

Only one. And so, the second condition…

“Goodnight, brother,” he murmured with a wicked smile. “Dream sweetly.”

Pride’s influence wrapped around his thoughts. ‘To Aeon Square. The harvest is ripe for the taking.’

Noah's blue eyes gleamed as he leaned forward. "Aeon Square," he barked at David. The car inched through the crowded streets, finally stopping beneath the towering billboards where an urgent news anchor was reporting on Thomas’s…

“Death,” Noah sighed, the word a bittersweet echo of a victory he had long imagined, finally come to fruition.

Pride chuckled darkly, ‘Your brother’s closing scene was… quite striking.’

The screen illuminated with images of reporters swarming around a large man in a blood-stained suit, being escorted away by police, his face obscured by a digital distortion.

‘So the Whitlock boy takes the fall?’ Noah asked. ‘And it won’t lead back to me?’

‘Three elements define a murder, Blackwood: motive, witness, and opportunity. Mortal laws—flawed, yet so delightfully useful,’ Pride intoned. ‘That unfortunate boy is but a tool in this game, tragically unaware of his utter disconnection from the circumstances of your brother’s death.’

Noah allowed himself a soft, satisfied chuckle. Yet curiosity nagged at him. 'What of the motives?'

Pride’s laughter coursed through his thoughts, dark and fluid. ‘Don’t look away. Thomas, ever-eager simpleton, has already shared this footage with the press, unwittingly scripting his own requiem.’

The screen changed to reveal grainy footage of Adrian Van Nassau, a man with tousled brown hair and striking golden eyes. His voice flowed out, deep as the tides of the sea.

> “Thomas Blackwood, your daughter was involved in an unfortunate incident. She's in a catatonic state. Take her home. Remember. Remember this. This is the truth, the only truth that matters."

‘Is this where the motive lies? Athena leveraged her fiancé to silence Thomas and keep her brother’s illegal mind tampering under wraps? Brilliant!' Noah considered, his eyes shining with fresh respect for the web of deceit that Pride had crafted.

‘Thomas’s paranoia served us well,’ Pride remarked. ‘That hidden camera in his tie pin… a stroke of genius.’

‘The Van Nassau family’s involvement means…’ Noah began, but Pride cut him off.

‘Their ivory tower sways,’ Pride murmured. ‘The scales of balance have tipped, and chaos—oh, sweet chaos—will unfurl like a night rose.’

Noah’s eyes flickered to the rain-smeared window, where people stood frozen in disbelief, their mouths agape despite the storm. Above, The Eye’s frenetic dance came to an abrupt halt, as if time itself paused in reverence.

The invisible smoke slithered across his skin like ice water. ‘Can you sense the melody? The symphony of empires falling apart?’

‘So this is your grand plan? To challenge House Van Nassau?’ Noah shot back mentally at Pride, fighting the cold grip of fear around his throat. House Van Nassau—those who claimed divine power.

What would it cost him?

In the depths of his fear, exhilaration surged, stirring something inside him. Toppling House Van Nassau would be an unparalleled achievement—a legacy unclaimed by any Blackwood before. He wasn’t just a step above his brother; he was meant to claim the title of the best.

Out of nowhere, a frigid wind coiled through the car, sharp as a ghostly whisper, its icy fingers lingering down Noah’s spine despite the tightly shut windows. “What was that?” he pondered aloud.

As the car finally broke free from the CBD’s congestion and surged onto the freeway, David turned to Noah. “Forgive me, Senator, but what were you saying?”

‘Disregard it,’ Pride interject. ‘My… companion has returned from a rather intriguing game with a trio.’

‘Your… companion?’ Noah’s eyes widened.

Pride’s voice split into two contrasting tones, ‘Not something you need to worry about. Now, let’s talk about our agreement…’

‘I accept,’ Noah replied without a second thought, his heart thundering with elation. Pride was a rare, exquisite ally, and together, they would see the very heavens bend and break.

‘A prudent decision, Blackwood,’ Pride’s words curled like a smoky whisper. ‘And as for the driver, rid us of that inconvenience when you’re home.’

‘Understood, My Lord,’ Noah murmured, feeling Pride’s essence pour into him like liquid fire, filling every fibre with dark, ancient energy.

A wave of euphoria surged through Noah—a feeling of becoming something… greater. Pride, a force capable of annihilation, had come up with this impossible scheme to make him its conduit.

Noah Blackwood was the chosen one.

This feeling… it was indescribable. Enveloped in Pride’s hold, he felt it: a pulse of intoxicating power that left him feeling absolutely…

Invincible.