Horror

The atmosphere inside the private suite was thick with tension, even after Sol had vanished into the night. The scarred man lay slumped over the table, his breathing ragged, eyes wide with lingering terror. The guards who had drawn their weapons were still trembling, their bodies betraying the aftereffects of the nightmare illusions that had gripped them. No one spoke for a long moment—no one dared.

The older man at the head of the table exhaled heavily, breaking the suffocating silence. He adjusted his cuffs, his usual composed demeanor strained but not broken. "So," he said, his voice rasping slightly, "I believe we've just witnessed exactly why that boy is feared."

The younger man with the scar clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching as if he still felt phantom pain. "That wasn't fear," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was something else entirely. It was like my mind was being peeled apart."

A murmur of agreement swept through the remaining attendees. Whatever they had expected from Sol, reality had exceeded it in the worst possible way.

One of the more composed figures, a woman with sleek auburn hair and piercing blue eyes, tapped her fingers against the table, her expression calculating rather than shaken. "Elise has invited a storm into the game," she mused, her voice calm but edged with intrigue. "And the worst part? I don't think even she knows where it's going to land."

A grim chuckle came from the other end of the table, a man with silver-rimmed glasses who had remained silent throughout the meeting. "It was amusing, wasn't it? Watching someone with that level of power act like he's merely toying with us. I wonder… was that truly the full extent of his abilities, or was he holding back?"

The idea sent another wave of unease through the group. If Sol had held back, then what would he be like at full power?

The scarred man slammed his fist against the table, trying to ground himself. "I don't care how powerful he is. That level of disrespect… the way he made fools of us in our own domain—there has to be a response. We can't let him get away with that."

"And what exactly do you propose?" the older man asked, his voice neutral but pointed. "Challenging him directly? Hunting him down?"

The scarred man hesitated, but his rage wouldn't let him back down. "Something. Anything. We can't just let him walk away unscathed."

The auburn-haired woman shook her head. "No. We wait. We watch. Elise may think she has control over him, but she doesn't. No one does. That makes him volatile… and volatility can be exploited."

A silence settled over the room as they all processed her words. The fear in their eyes was real, but so was the realization that Sol had changed the playing field. He was no longer just an unknown variable—he was a force, an anomaly that had shattered their expectations in mere moments.

The older man sighed once more before finally pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. "For now, we do nothing. We let Elise deal with her own monster. But if—when—he becomes a problem we can't ignore, then we'll act."

A slow series of nods followed his words, though no one seemed fully at ease with the decision. The echoes of screams still clung to the walls, and the memory of Sol's eerie smirk lingered in the air like a ghostly whisper.

One thing was certain—tonight had changed everything.

Suddenly, a voice echoed from nowhere, smooth yet laced with amusement. "Isn't it a bit rude to call me a monster?"

Every heart in the room lurched. The air grew thick with dread as eyes darted around, searching for a source that wasn't there. The scarred man paled, his earlier bravado crumbling as his fingers twitched toward his concealed weapon. The auburn-haired woman froze mid-motion, her calculating expression breaking for the first time. Even the older man, usually composed, tightened his grip on the table.

The voice held no immediate malice, but its presence alone sent a wave of primal fear through the room. It was unmistakable. Sol was still here. Watching. Listening.

Then, before their eyes, reality seemed to ripple. The air distorted like a heatwave before dissolving to reveal Sol, comfortably seated in one of the high-backed chairs at the table, his legs casually crossed, an amused glint in his starry eyes. 

The effect was instantaneous. Several guards, still traumatized from their earlier encounter, collapsed where they stood, their minds unable to handle another direct confrontation with him. The remaining figures stiffened, their breath hitching, fear coiling tightly in their chests.

Sol leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming lazily against the armrest. "Now, that's a bit dramatic, don't you think? I haven't even done anything yet."

The scarred man, pale and visibly shaken, forced himself to speak, though his voice lacked the arrogance from before. "H-How long… have you been here?"

Sol tilted his head playfully. "Long enough."

The scarred man swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself in reality would shield him from Sol's presence. His mind screamed at him to act, to regain control of the situation, but his body refused to move. He had already been under Sol's influence once—he didn't want to experience that hell again.

The auburn-haired woman was the first to regain composure, though her piercing blue eyes betrayed her unease. "You enjoy making an entrance, don't you?"

Sol smirked, resting his chin on his palm. "Oh, I do love the dramatics. But I also enjoy hearing people discuss me behind my back. Quite insightful, really."

The older man at the head of the table finally spoke, voice steady despite the tension thick in the air. "And what exactly do you want, Sol? You already proved your point."

Sol smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Did I? Because from what I saw, it seemed like I didn't."

Pure dread gripped the hearts of everyone in the room. A shiver ran down the scarred man's spine, his earlier bravado crumbling entirely. The auburn-haired woman stiffened, her sharp mind racing to analyze the implications of his words. Even the older man, ever composed, felt a rare wave of unease creep up his back.

Sol's eyes darkened slightly, his amused demeanor never fully fading but carrying an underlying weight. "Just making sure we're all on the same page. You see, I don't take kindly to being called a monster. It hurts my feelings." He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense, though the glint in his eyes told a different story.

The scarred man, still struggling to suppress his fear, found his voice. "What else would you call someone who twists reality like a nightmare? Who breaks people with a flick of their fingers?"

Sol's grin widened, but this time, there was something chilling about it. "That's a fair point. But let's be real—you all would've done far worse if the roles were reversed. The only difference is that I don't pretend to be something I'm not."

The room fell silent again, the unspoken truth settling between them. They had all played their own ruthless games in the underworld, manipulating and eliminating obstacles as needed. The only difference was that Sol had no need for pretense—his power spoke for itself.

The auburn-haired woman exhaled, regaining control of her nerves. "So, what now? Are you here to make an enemy out of us, or is this just another game to you?"

Sol tapped his fingers against the armrest, considering. "Neither. I just wanted to make sure you all understood something very clearly. Elise might be the one playing this game, but I? I'm not a piece on the board. I'm the one who decides whether the board stays intact or shatters."

The weight of his words pressed down on them, and for the first time that night, true understanding dawned in their eyes. Sol wasn't just a dangerous wildcard—he was the very chaos that could upend everything they had built.

He stood, stretching lazily as if he hadn't just rattled the entire room to its core. "Well, this has been fun. I do hope we don't have any misunderstandings in the future. It would be… unfortunate."

With that, Sol snapped his fingers once more, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone—fading into nothingness as if he had never been there.

The room remained deathly silent, the remaining figures exchanging looks of disbelief and unease. Even the scarred man, who had been the loudest voice of defiance, said nothing.

The older man sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "We were worried about Elise's influence… but now, we have a much bigger problem."

The auburn-haired woman nodded slowly. "Sol isn't a wildcard. He's the storm itself."

---

Across the city, in the dimly lit confines of Elise's private lounge, the air was thick with tension. A glass of amber liquid sat untouched on the table before her, the ice inside slowly melting. She rested her chin on her interlaced fingers, her golden eyes staring blankly at the holographic screen floating before her. A recorded transmission played—grainy security footage of Sol's unexpected reappearance in the private suite. 

She watched as he materialized in the chair, watched as guards collapsed in terror, as hardened criminals were reduced to quivering wrecks, as he toyed with them like a god playing with mortals. Elise had been wary before, but now? Now, she knew just how deep the abyss ran.

A knock at the door broke her thoughts. She closed the feed with a wave of her hand. "Enter."

The door creaked open, and Asha stepped inside, looking unusually tense. "We have a problem."

Elise let out a slow breath. "I assume this is about Sol."

Asha nodded, then hesitated before adding, "He went back inside the meeting after we left. We just got confirmation. He—he was sitting in the chair. He was there the whole time."

Elise's expression didn't shift, but inside, a chill ran down her spine. She had assumed Sol had left the moment they walked out, but for him to remain unseen, to listen, to wait—that meant something more dangerous than power. It meant patience. It meant calculation.

"And?" Elise asked, voice controlled, even.

Asha exhaled sharply. "And he made a statement. One that has them all shaken. There are people already whispering, calling him an unknown variable, a force that no one can predict or control. Some factions are terrified. Some are interested. But everyone agrees on one thing—he's beyond anything we've dealt with before."

Elise ran a hand through her hair, the smallest flicker of frustration flashing across her face. "We brought him into this game to use him as a deterrent, not a goddamn nightmare myth."

Asha hesitated before saying, "Maybe he was never meant to be 'used' in the first place."

For the first time that evening, Elise sighed, leaning back in her chair, feeling the weight of her decision. She had thought she was adding a wildcard to her deck, but now she realized she had unleashed something that didn't belong in the game to begin with.

She picked up the glass from the table, swirling the liquid inside before taking a slow sip. "From now on, no games when it comes to Sol. No manipulation, no power plays. We let him be… and we pray he never turns against us."

Asha nodded in full agreement, still shaken from what she had seen. Even Jupiter, who normally had something to say, had been uncharacteristically quiet after the meeting. No one could ignore what had happened.

Elise set the glass down with a soft clink, eyes narrowing. "But that doesn't mean we stop watching."

Asha hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to speak. Then, with a deep breath, she added cautiously, "Also… we may have found someone who knows about Sol's past."

Elise's entire demeanor shifted in an instant. Her golden eyes widened, and she abruptly sat up, all previous exhaustion wiped away. "Who? Bring them in. Now."

Asha quickly explained, "It's a drifter we picked up after our stop at Galvaris Prime. She was alone and needed protection, so we took her in. But after hearing the rumors about Sol and seeing a picture of him, she recognized him."

Elise's lips curled into something between a smirk and a grin. Finally. Any information about Sol was invaluable, and this could be the key to understanding just what kind of creature they were dealing with.

"Where is she now?" Elise asked, her voice calm but edged with anticipation.

"She's resting in one of our safehouses," Asha answered. "I didn't want to bring her in until I was sure. But she seemed certain."

Elise exhaled, her mind already working through the possibilities. "Then we move now. I want to hear everything she knows."