The gala was a lie wrapped in gold. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like fat spiders, casting fake light on fake smiles. Men in tuxedos drank champagne and talked about "saving the world." Women in diamonds whispered about who was sleeping with who. The room smelled of perfume, sweat, and ambition. Elias Voss stood in the center, tall, handsome, cold. His black suit fit like a second skin, his smile perfect, his eyes empty.
He hated these events. Not because they were boring — everything was boring — but because they were so obvious. Everyone here was pretending. Everyone here was a hypocrite. They gave millions to "charity" while their companies poisoned rivers, exploited children, and bribed politicians. They cried about "love" while cheating on their spouses. They preached "morality" while selling their souls for power.
Elias could see it now. His power let him see their auras, their lies, their rot. A politician with a green aura stained black with corruption. A CEO with red rage hidden behind a white smile. A philanthropist with gray guilt, her "good deeds" just a cover for tax evasion and human trafficking.
He sipped his drink, watched, waited.
Lira stood beside him, invisible to everyone else. Her white dress fluttered slightly, her dark eyes scanning the room. "Pick one," she whispered. "Test your power on someone real. Someone who matters."
Elias's eyes landed on her.
Victoria Hale.
The "angel of charity." 38 years old, beautiful, blonde, the face of hope for orphans and the poor. She stood across the room, surrounded by admirers, laughing, touching arms, playing the part. Her aura was bright white, almost glowing, like a saint. But Elias saw the truth. Deep inside, black veins pulsed — greed, cruelty, lies.
He had known about her for years. Her "foundation" was a front. She laundered money for cartels, sold children to the rich, and kept 90% of the "donations" for herself. She was the perfect target. Not just a traitor, but a monster pretending to be good.
Elias walked toward her, parting the crowd like a shark through water. People smiled, nodded, called him "the visionary." He ignored them.
Victoria saw him coming. Her smile widened, fake, perfect. "Mr. Voss! What an honor."
"Ms. Hale," he said, voice smooth. "Your work is inspiring."
She blushed, touched his arm. "Thank you. We do what we can."
Lira whispered in his ear. "Take her."
Elias smiled. "Walk with me."
She did.
They stepped onto the balcony, away from the crowd, the city lights sprawling below like a sea of lies. The air was cool, the night heavy.
"You're not what you seem," Elias said.
Her smile flickered. "What do you mean?"
"Your aura," he said. "White on the outside. Black on the inside. Greed. Cruelty. The children you 'save' — you sell them. The money you 'raise' — you steal it. The hope you sell — it's poison."
Her face went pale. "You're insane."
"No," Elias said. "I'm awake."
He reached out, not to touch her, but to focus. He could feel her soul, her will, her fear. He grabbed, hard.
Victoria gasped. Her body jerked. Her aura cracked, the white shell breaking, the black veins spreading like ink in water. She fell to her knees, gasping, eyes wide with terror.
"What… what are you doing?" she whispered.
"Taking what's mine," Elias said. "Your memories. Your lies. Your soul."
He pulled harder. Memories flooded into him, not his own, but hers. Brutal, dirty, shameless.
**Flashback: Victoria's Truth**
*Ten years ago, a dirty warehouse on the edge of the city. Victoria, younger, harder, counting stacks of cash. A truck pulls up. Men drag out children — dirty, scared, 5 to 12 years old. She doesn't flinch. "How many?" she asks. "Twenty," the man says. "Good. The rich ones want fresh ones." She inspects them like cattle, pokes a boy's arm. "This one has marks. Discount." The boy cries. She slaps him. "Shut up. You're lucky."*
*Later, at a gala, same smile, same dress. She gives a speech: "These children are our future. We must save them." The crowd applauds. Cameras flash. She cries fake tears. That night, she wires the money to her offshore account. $5 million. "For the children," she toasts to herself.*
*Two years ago, a private jet. A Saudi prince, fat, sweating. "I want a girl. 10 years old. Virgin." Victoria smiles. "Of course. Special delivery." The girl is drugged, tied, in the cargo hold. Victoria kisses the prince's cheek. "You're so generous." He gives her a diamond necklace. She sells it for $2 million.*
*Last month, an orphanage she "funds." The director begs for money. "The kids need food." Victoria laughs. "Feed them less. Makes them look sadder. Better photos." She takes photos of starving kids for her website, raises $10 million, keeps $9 million.*
**End Flashback**
Elias saw it all. Felt it all. Not with emotion, but with cold clarity. Humans were dirty. Shameless. Cruel. They wore white robes over black hearts. They preached love while selling children. They cried for the poor while counting blood money.
Victoria screamed, clawing at her chest. "Stop! Please!"
Elias didn't stop. He pulled more, fed on her soul, made her relive every lie, every betrayal, every child she sold.
Then he pushed.
He forced her to confess. Not to him. To everyone.
Victoria stood, unsteady, eyes wild. She stumbled back into the gala, climbed onto a table, grabbed a microphone.
"Listen!" she screamed. "I'm a monster! I sell children! I steal from orphans! I fuck princes for diamonds while kids starve!"
The room froze. Gasps. Shocked faces. Phones out, recording.
Victoria collapsed, foaming at the mouth, aura shattered, body convulsing. She died on the table, in front of 500 people, her white lie exposed.
Chaos. Screams. Security rushing in.
Elias stood in the shadows, untouched, smiling.
Lira appeared beside him. "Perfect."
***
But the power had a cost.
As Victoria died, something broke inside Elias. Not his heart — he had no heart left. But his memories.
A flash. White walls. Sterile light. A child's voice.
**Flashback: The Smile Project — Elias's Past**
*He was 8 years old. Elias Voss, not yet the billionaire, just a boy sold by his parents to "make him perfect." The room was white, no windows, no color. Scientists in masks, voices cold.*
*"Subject 12. Emotional suppression test."*
*They strapped him to a chair. Wires in his temples. Drugs in his veins. Pain came first — electric shocks, burns on his arms, needles in his fingers. He cried. He screamed.*
*"Smile," the scientist said. "Smile or it gets worse."*
*Elias smiled through the pain. Fake. Perfect. They nodded. "Good. Phase two."*
*Phase two was betrayal. They brought in other children. Subject 7 — the girl. 7 years old, dark hair, wide eyes. She looked at him, trusted him.*
*"Choose," the scientist said. "Her or you. Kill her, or we reset you."*
*Reset meant death. Or worse. Elias knew. He had seen Subject 11 reset — brain wiped, body twitching, soul gone.*
*The girl cried. "Please. Don't."*
*Elias smiled. Took the knife. Stabbed her in the throat. Blood sprayed. She gurgled, died.*
*The scientists clapped. "Perfect. You feel nothing now."*
*His parents watched through the glass. His mother smiled. "Our son is special." His father nodded. "He'll rule the world." They had sold him for $10 million. For "the greater good."*
*That night, they erased his tears, his guilt, his pain. They implanted the chip. They made him smile forever.*
**End Flashback**
Elias blinked. The gala noise returned. He felt the hum in his temple — the old SoulLink chip, still there, buried deep.
Lira noticed. "The contract is waking your past."
"Good," Elias said. "I need to remember why I hate them all."
***
The next day, the news exploded.
"Charity Queen Confesses to Child Trafficking, Dies on Stage!"
Victoria Hale was dead. Her foundation raided. Cartels exposed. Politicians scrambling. The elites panicked.
Elias watched from his office, screens full of headlines. His phone rang. A number he hadn't seen in years.
His mother.
He answered.
"Elias," she said, voice sweet, fake. "We saw the news. Brilliant. Just like we taught you."
Elias saw her aura through the SoulLink feed — green ambition, black cruelty. Same as always.
"Mother," he said. "What do you want?"
"Money," she said, shameless. "The project needs funding. The Smile Project 2.0. You're perfect for it."
Elias smiled. "No."
Her voice hardened. "You owe us. We made you."
"You sold me," he said. "For power. For money. You watched me kill a girl. And you smiled."
Silence. Then laughter. "You were weak. We made you strong. Come home. Join us."
Elias hung up. He felt nothing. But he knew.
They were next.
***
That night, Elias went hunting.
He tracked a politician — Senator Grant, Victoria's partner in crime. Aura black as night. Grant was at a private club, with "friends." Young girls, bought, drugged.
Elias walked in, invisible in the shadows. He watched Grant laugh, grope, pay. Dirty. Shameless. Cruel.
He reached out, pulled.
Grant convulsed, confessed to his "friends." "I sell kids! I take bribes! I rape!"
He died on the floor, aura gone.
Elias left, untouched.
The game was changing.
The elites were falling.
And Elias was just warming up.
Lira appeared. "The second stage calls."
Elias nodded. The contract burned.
Power. Control. Revenge.
The past was fuel.
The future was his.