Compensation (1)

*****

The dimly lit chamber hummed with an air of subdued anticipation.

The faint flicker of holo-screens cast eerie blue glows upon the polished obsidian walls, reflecting off the piercing crimson of Azrael's gaze.

He sat comfortably in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers idly tapping against the cold surface of the table.

Across from him, Valco stood, his posture stiff, a bead of sweat forming at his temple.

The video had ended moments ago, yet the afterimage of its contents lingered in Azrael's mind.

The boy—white-haired, crimson-eyed—had executed his men with an efficiency that was anything but ordinary.

It was neither luck nor raw instinct.

It was skill—refined, precise, lethal.

Azrael exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he turned toward the subordinate standing near the entrance.

"Find out who he is,"

He ordered, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of an unspoken threat.