Elsewhere, far from Haven City, night settled cold and sharp over a sprawling estate hidden behind iron gates and sculpted hedges. The mansion was an exercise in excess. Marble columns, gold trim, and chandeliers that glittered like trophies rather than décor.
Brother Kaine arrived dressed in tailored evening wear, his movements precise and restrained. At his side walked Luther, massive even in a suit, silent as a shadow. Neither spoke as they passed through the mansion's winding corridors, the layout intentionally disorienting, designed to make visitors feel small and watched. They stopped before a pair of carved doors. Kaine stepped inside alone.
The room beyond was circular and lit low, with a heavy round table at its center and six chairs evenly spaced around it. Three were already occupied. Kaine took his seat without ceremony, hands folded in front of him. Luther remained outside. This meeting was not for him.
To Kaine's right sat Boss Tango, legs crossed comfortably, gloved fingers tapping against the table. He wore an immaculate suit, his smile thin and indulgent. Tango was the oldest among them, one of the original architects of the Decay Group. His reputation for cruelty was not exaggerated. Poison seeped from his skin as easily as sweat, and he treated suffering as both art and recreation.
Next to Tango sat Orion. He was broad-shouldered, silent, and unmoving, his suit reinforced to accommodate the heat his body could generate when his flesh turned molten. Orion oversaw distribution. Drugs, weapons, people. Everything flowed through him. He rarely spoke unless necessary, and when he did, it was with brutal efficiency.
To Kaine's left sat the Red Rabbit.
She looked out of place and entirely at home all at once. Her dress was elegant, her purple hair cascading over one shoulder, and her smile bright and almost friendly. She waved lightly when Kaine glanced her way. Behind that cheer sat the mind responsible for Decay's most horrific experiments. She lacked powers of her own, but her intellect more than compensated. She was always searching for volunteers. Willing or otherwise.
The fourth seat across the table remained empty. One of the Five was absent. Whether by assignment or punishment, none of them asked. The tension in the room was immediate and familiar.
Kaine could feel his pulse ticking louder than the silence. His emotions churned just beneath the surface, carefully leashed. Tango's gaze lingered on him with open curiosity. Red Rabbit hummed softly to herself. Orion stared straight ahead, as if waiting for orders.
None of them liked each other.
Tango delighted in pushing boundaries. Red Rabbit pushed people. Orion pushed results. Kaine pushed himself to keep control. Their personalities clashed constantly, and alliances shifted depending on convenience. If any one of them stood alone, the others would gladly carve them apart.
Yet none of them moved. Because above all of it stood Decay.
Fear and loyalty were indistinguishable when it came to their boss. Decay had built the organization piece by piece, and he did not tolerate weakness. Failure was erased. Disobedience was corrected permanently.
Kaine thought of Solomon. The thought passed through him like a blade.
"Is this about that business in Haven City?" Tango finally asked, voice smooth.
Kaine didn't answer yet. His eyes fixed on the empty chair across from him.
"Yes," he said at last. "And about a hero who doesn't know when to stay small."
Red Rabbit's smile widened.
That, at least, got everyone's attention.
The atmosphere in the room changed the instant the doors opened again. No one announced him. No one needed to.
Decay entered without haste, his presence pressing down on the space like a physical weight. The lower half of his face was hidden behind a plague doctor-style mask. What little skin was visible above it was deeply lined, far more weathered than a man in his late fifties should have been. He wore an immaculate white suit, sharply tailored, the kind of garment that suggested wealth so extreme it no longer needed to be flaunted.
He was tall, broad, and solid, a husky, muscular frame that moved with unsettling ease. Decay walked past each enforcer in turn, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He did not acknowledge them. Not with a glance. Not with a word. Boss Tango's smile faded. Red Rabbit stopped humming. Even Orion shifted, just slightly.
When Decay reached the head of the table, he turned and sat. Then he spoke.
The mask distorted his voice, giving it a nasal, mechanical edge, but the authority behind it was unmistakable. "Good evening," he said, calmly, as if addressing colleagues rather than subordinates who feared him.
His gaze moved to the empty chair. "Mirai will be absent," Decay continued. "She is handling our cleaner problem."
No one commented.
Decay folded his hands on the table. "Things were going very well," he said. "Exceptionally well." His tone was conversational, almost reflective. "And yet, over the last few months, it appears that those I have trusted most have begun to falter."
His eyes slid to Orion. "A lost Chemaklis shipment. Our most profitable product."
Orion said nothing.
Decay's gaze shifted to Red Rabbit. "A failed experiment. One that resulted in the destruction of our second-largest laboratory."
Red Rabbit's smile remained, though her eyes tightened.
Decay leaned back slightly and glanced at Tango. "And then there's you." A pause. "Frankly, your entire… vibe."
For a brief moment, something like dry humor flickered through the room. It vanished as quickly as it came. Finally, Decay turned his attention to Kaine. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"Solomon," Decay said. The name hung in the air like a verdict. Kaine felt it settle into his chest.
Decay shook his head slowly, the motion deliberate, almost disappointed. "Solomon," he said again, this time with open contempt. "A veteran asset. A coordinated cell. Reduced to nothing by rookies." His fingers tightened against the edge of the table. "Captured. Exposed. Embarrassing."
His voice rose as he continued, the distortion of the mask warping it into something sharper. "An entire group collapsing under pressure is already unacceptable." His hand slammed down against the table with a thunderous crack. "But the Cleaner's failure?" The word failure dripped with venom. "That was incompetence on a scale I do not forgive."
For a moment, it looked like he might explode. The tension in his frame coiled tight, the air in the room feeling charged. Then Decay exhaled and straightened, forcing the rage back behind the mask. His gaze snapped to Kaine.
"I placed considerable faith in you," Decay said. "I elevated you to the Five. Gave you the title of Chief of Staff, and so far, the staff you've assembled has been… disappointing."
"I will not tolerate another failure," Decay continued. "Not from you. Not from any of my commanders." His voice dropped, cold and final. "The next mistake will not result in demotion. Heads will not simply roll." He flexed his hand slowly. "They will disintegrate in my palm."
Decay stood.
He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back over his shoulder at Kaine. "I've reviewed Emerald Atlas," he said. "The hero responsible for Solomon. The one involved in the Cleaner incident." A beat. "He's still provisional."
"His probation ends in approximately half a month," Decay said. "Ensure he is disposed of before then." His eyes lingered. "Failure to do so will be accepted as your resignation."
The implication was clear as Decay exited without another word.
The enforcers rose and filed out one by one. Boss Tango lingered last, leaning toward Kaine with a crooked grin. "Looks like you're in deep shit, my friend," he murmured, savoring it.
Then he left Kaine alone with the silence. Killing Emerald Atlas isn't just a personal matter anymore; it's a matter of life and death.