Chapter 28: The Devil has arrived
Unknown POV
Obsidian didn't sit.
He stood at the center of the circular chamber, hands clasped behind his back, spine straight, chin level, eyes fixed forward. The floor beneath his boots was black glass veined with faint red light, like blood frozen under ice.
Every step taken here left no sound. The room swallowed noise the way predators swallowed prey.
Above him, the ceiling curved high and dark, layered with concentric screens that displayed nothing but the organization's sigil—an abstract mark of authority older than most governments. It rotated slowly, endlessly, reminding everyone present that power did not need to move quickly to be absolute.
The air was heavy.
Not with danger.
With judgment.
Across from him, Scarlet leaned against the long obsidian table, one hip resting casually on its edge. Her posture suggested ease. Her expression suggested boredom.
But Obsidian knew her too well. The rhythm of her breathing was off by a fraction. She only pretended to be careless when she was calculating ten steps ahead—and anticipating blood.
Three figures sat beyond the table, half-hidden in the shadows.
The Higher Council.
They did not shift. Did not fidget. Their presence was less physical than conceptual—authority given shape. They never rushed. They never reacted first. They observed. Measured. Decided.
Obsidian broke the silence.
"The operation is complete," he said calmly.
"The target was marked. The secondary objective was fulfilled."
One of the figures shifted slightly. The shadows rippled, as if disturbed by a stone dropped into deep water.
"Define fulfilled," a voice said.
Male. Old. Filtered through layers of distortion that stripped away tone, age, identity.
Obsidian did not hesitate. "Evan responded exactly as projected."
Scarlet smiled faintly. "More than projected."
Another voice cut in, sharp and female. "We didn't ask for your commentary, Scarlet."
Scarlet straightened, pushing off the table. The smile stayed, but it hardened. "Of course. Then I'll let Obsidian speak."
Obsidian continued without missing a beat.
"When the bio-tracker activated, Evan altered his behavior immediately. He abandoned established protocol. He exposed patterns we hadn't seen before. He moved emotionally instead of tactically."
A pause followed.
"And?" the first voice asked.
"And he became dangerous."
That earned a reaction.
Not visible—but Obsidian felt it. The pressure in the room shifted subtly, like a predator leaning forward in interest.
"Explain," the second voice said.
"The mark performed as designed," Obsidian said. "It weakened the girl. Suppressed physical output. Induced pain feedback under stress. More importantly—it allowed us to monitor Evan through proximity and behavioral correlation."
Scarlet nodded. "The tracker isn't alive. It doesn't think. It doesn't react. It's a bio-computer virus. Passive. Silent. Clean."
"And yet," the female voice said coolly, "our sensors detected anomalies."
Obsidian inclined his head. "Yes."
The screens above them flickered to life.
Data streamed down in thin, vertical columns. Heat maps. Movement vectors. Reaction spikes. Evan's silhouette appeared again and again—blurring through underground corridors, slipping through black market zones, breaching medical districts that didn't officially exist.
"He went off-grid," the first voice observed.
"Yes," Obsidian replied. "To secure a suppressant."
Scarlet tapped the table once. "Which he succeeded in doing. Alone."
"That was not authorized," the third voice said quietly.
"No," Obsidian agreed. "It was not."
Silence stretched.
The council did not punish mistakes immediately. They dissected them first.
"Why wasn't he intercepted?" the female voice asked.
Obsidian met the darkness head-on.
"Because interception would have required deploying assets that could not survive contact."
That landed.
Scarlet glanced sideways at him. "You're being generous. Half our underground observers lost track of him in the first thirty seconds."
A sharp inhale came from the shadows.
"You're saying," the first voice said slowly,
"that an operative under restriction moved freely through restricted zones."
"Yes."
"And avoided detection."
"Yes."
"And secured illegal medical technology."
"Yes."
Another pause.
"Under emotional stress."
Obsidian did not soften it. "Yes."
The room fell silent again.
Scarlet broke it gently. "Which was the point of the test."
The third voice shifted. "The test was to observe degradation."
Scarlet shook her head. "No. The test was to see what happens when the leash tightens."
Obsidian watched the shadows carefully.
"The leash," Scarlet continued, "didn't slow him. It forced him to choose."
"And what did he choose?" the female voice asked.
Scarlet's smile faded. "He chose her."
The words hung in the air like a verdict.
Obsidian added, "Every time."
The council said nothing.
On the screens, the footage changed.
Mia.
Pale. Weak. Unsteady. The mark glowed faintly beneath her skin in thermal view, spreading thin lines like circuitry across her wrist and creeping up her arm.
"The tracker is stable," Obsidian said. "No signs of rejection. No mutation."
"And her condition?" the first voice asked.
"Weak but alive," Scarlet replied. "Which keeps Evan compliant."
"Compliant?" the female voice echoed.
Obsidian corrected her. "Focused."
That drew attention.
"Explain the difference," the third voice said.
"When Evan believes there is a cure," Obsidian said evenly, "he is controlled. When he believes there is only loss—"
Scarlet finished softly, "—he stops caring who burns."
Silence again.
The council disliked unpredictability.
They hated devotion.
"Which brings us to the next phase," the first voice said. "Assassin X."
Scarlet's eyes flicked upward. "You're deploying him now?"
"Yes."
Obsidian did not react outwardly. Inside, something tightened.
"That's premature," Scarlet said. "Evan hasn't been fully pushed yet."
"That is precisely why," the female voice replied. "Assassin X does not test limits. He erases them."
The screens shifted again.
A new silhouette appeared.
Tall. Lean. Wrapped in black adaptive armor. No insignia. No recorded identity. No verified history.
A ghost.
"Our strongest free asset," the third voice said. "Unrestricted. Unmonitored."
Scarlet crossed her arms. "And completely uncontrollable."
"That is acceptable," the first voice replied.
"This encounter is not about control."
Obsidian's jaw tightened. "Then what is it about?"
The shadows leaned forward.
"Confirmation."
Scarlet glanced between them. "Confirmation of what?"
"Whether Evan breaks," the female voice said calmly.
Obsidian's voice hardened. "And if he doesn't?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"Then Assassin X will."
Scarlet laughed once, sharp and humorless. "You're throwing a blade into a storm and expecting it to land clean."
The first voice didn't rise to the bait. "Assassin X has killed S-rank targets."
Obsidian met the darkness. "So has Evan."
A pause.
"That is precisely the concern," the third voice said.
The room felt colder.
Scarlet exhaled slowly. "You're not testing Evan anymore. You're provoking him."
"Yes," the female voice agreed. "We want to see what happens when he is no longer the strongest presence in the room."
Obsidian spoke carefully now. "Assassin X is not part of this organization."
Silence sharpened.
"He was a purchase," Obsidian continued.
"We hired him because no one else could touch the target."
Scarlet nodded. "We contracted him."
"One job," Obsidian said. "One payment."
"No follow-up clause," Scarlet added. "No leash."
The council listened.
"And because we believed a single transaction wouldn't create attachment," Obsidian finished.
A pause.
"That assumption," Scarlet said quietly, "was wrong."
The third voice spoke. "Assassin X does not belong to us."
"No," Obsidian agreed. "He does not."
"But he is moving," the first voice said. "Toward the signal."
The screens zoomed in.
Mia's location pulsed red.
Underground.
Close.
Too close.
Scarlet whispered, "He's going to cross paths with Evan."
"Yes," the female voice said. "That is the point."
Obsidian took one step forward.
"You're underestimating Evan," he said quietly.
"We accounted for his known limits," the third voice replied.
Scarlet's voice dropped. "You never account for what you don't know."
The lights dimmed.
An alert chimed once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
Red indicators flared across every screen.
"Contact detected," the system announced.
Obsidian's head snapped up.
"Already?" Scarlet muttered.
The silhouette of Assassin X appeared—moving fast, tearing through underground corridors, bodies dropping behind him like discarded clothing.
"No hesitation," the first voice observed.
"Good."
Another alert.
Energy spike.
Massive.
Unclassified.
Scarlet's breath caught. "That's not on our charts."
The feed cut.
Static.
Then—
Footsteps echoed through the chamber's audio system.
Slow.
Measured.
Heavy with intent.
Someone was approaching the council chamber itself.
Security alarms screamed.
Scarlet straightened. "That's not Assassin X."
The lights flickered.
A presence pressed against the room like a blade against skin.
The doors at the far end groaned.
Metal bent.
Something hit it once.
Hard.
The chamber fell silent.
Then—
The doors exploded inward.
Smoke.
Shattered alloy.
And a figure stepped through the haze.
Black-clad.
Unmasked.
Still.
No insignia.
No restraint.
Just violence waiting to move.
Giving off the pressure of an ancient apex predator.
Obsidian felt it in his bones.
Assassin X had arrived.
And somewhere deep inside, a terrible certainty began to form—
—but the council didn't know it yet.
The moment ended before anyone spoke.
Before anyone realized—
—that the devil had already arrived.