Within a spacious office featuring a large dark wooden desk, built-in bookshelves, brown leather chairs, excellent lighting, expansive windows, and a neutral color sche that exuded both professionalism and wealth,
Faction President Nacht sat behind his desk dealing with routine faction work and docunts when urgent knocks rang through his door. He grunted slightly as he raised his head from the paperwork. "Co in."
A woman in a dark suit and matching pants hurried in with obvious concern etched across her face.
"What is it?" he asked, imdiately noticing his subordinate’s troubled expression.
"Sir, I just got word that Dorian Graves is back in the city," she said, her voice carrying alot of worry.
Nacht’s face went so grim that fury was clearly visible in his face. "Who gave you that information?" he demanded, dropping his pen and abandoning his work entirely.
"A friend in USOV, she told he ca to see Director Grey and left shortly after," his subordinate replied quickly.
"This friend of yours didn’t ntion what he ca in for?" Nacht pressed, trying not to jump to conclusions just yet.
The woman shook her head, making it clear she had no additional details about the purpose of Dorian’s visit.
Nacht then dismissed her with a wave. "Carry on with your work." She nodded and left imdiately, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Nacht slamd his fist against the desk.
His discontent with this news was obvious, but he was certain of one thing—there was absolutely no way he was letting that psychopath back into his city.
...
The scene shifted back to the aftermath of the battle in downtown Detroit, where a golden blob of energy rose from the beheaded monster and flowed directly into Liam. Several translucent screens appeared before him as he walked back toward the other Visors.
[Nega-fusion Soul Absorption Complete]
[You have Leveled up]
[You have Leveled up]
[You have Leveled up]
[ 14 stat points available]
[ 1 Skill upgrade token]
Ayan Dan was still looking at Liam with undisguised awe when her focus was suddenly shattered by Gabby’s desperate scream from near their vehicles: "Boss! We’re losing him!"
Ayan imdiately turned toward the urgent call and sprinted toward her subordinates, with the others following close behind. Gabby had tears streaming down his face as he held Jeremy in his massive arms, the wounded man wheezing in pain and struggling for each breath.
Ayan dropped to her knees beside them. "Hey, don’t you dare die on , Jer—we’ll patch up a wound like this in no ti," she said with forced optimism, but even as she spoke, she could see it was already too late.
Jeremy’s body was growing cold, and soon his eyes stopped moving entirely as he let out his final breath. The others imdiately realized what had happened, and so turned away in grief and frustration.
"No, man! Co on!" Gabby yelled in anguish, while Ayan gently closed Jeremy’s eyelids with her palm, with the pain of doing so, evident on her face.
She stood slowly from her crouched position and patted Gabby on the back before walking toward Liam, who had been watching the tragic scene unfold. "Thank you for stepping in when you did," she said quietly.
Liam’s response was equally soft. "I’m sorry about him," he said, nodding toward her grieving team as he recognized they had just lost one of their own. She simply nodded in acknowledgnt and turned back toward her team to handle the aftermath.
Liam and Brian began walking back toward the USOV agents who had arrived earlier, and the mbers of Team C approached Liam with continuing amazent at what they had initially witnessed.
Sarah stepped forward, and said with this uncharacteristic sincerity. "USOV’s lucky to have you," —a clean, clear complint with no teasing or jokes, just genuine appreciation that sohow hit differently coming from her.
Elaine looked at Liam and nodded approvingly, clearly in agreent with Sarah’s assessnt. However, it was ti to return since their job here was finished, and the cleanup crew would handle whatever remained.
...
The sleek Maybach sedan carrying Dorian Graves pulled up to a grand luxurious hotel with an elegant white facade and warm golden lighting that made the entire building glow. The illuminated "HR" logo glead prominently at the top of the structure, marking it as one of Detroit’s most exclusive establishnts.
Dorian stepped out of the vehicle with this grace and walked through the hotel’s grand columned entrance into the opulent main lobby.
He approached the marble reception desk and asked simply, "Where is he?"
The receptionist imdiately understood whom he was referring to, the guest who had apparently rented out every available space in the entire hotel for his stay. "He’s by the poolside, sir," she replied courteously.
Dorian turned without another word and made his way toward the pool area, where he found exactly what he’d expected. There, lounging on an expensive poolside chair and sipping wine, was a young man with pale skin and dark hair, wearing dark sunglasses. He was shirtless with only shorts on, while two n in expensive suits stood behind him, watching their surroundings silently.
"Boss, Dorian is here," one of the guards said after leaning down to inform his employer.
Edmund imdiately sat up with obvious excitent lighting up his features, as Dorian approached and sat of one of the loungers close to him, "Hello, Dorian! Have you told the director about the faction building?" he asked eagerly, clearly expecting good news.
"Yeah, about that—you might need to get dressed and co with to see Grey himself," Dorian said with that familiar half-smile and casual shrug that sohow managed to be both charming and threatening.
Edmund’s excitent dimd slightly. "Okay, but I thought you said you’d handle everything yourself."
Dorian scoffed, "Isn’t it obvious? They still hate ," he said, then stood and turned to leave. He paused mid-step and tilted his head back toward Edmund with a more serious expression. "Oh, and by the way, rember that you’re going as the faction president and sole leader of the faction. I’ll need you to get your shit together for this eting, understood?"
Edmund nodded quickly, absorbing what Dorian was telling him as he watched the pale man walk away.
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