The scent of cheap incense and aged leather clung to the office air. Every object had been placed meticulously, as if each angle had been designed to make visitors uncomfortable. A massive portrait of the Community loomed on the wall, but the eyes that truly ruled the room were Dimitri's.
They carried a heavy, oppressive air—one he projected effortlessly. As the new director of the Protectors, his influence echoed through every corridor of the academy, where future servants of the Thirteen Community were trained. With a wicked smile, Dimitri watched as a woman entered his office uninvited, her figure mostly concealed beneath a scarf, though her resolve shone through.
"So, you're Darian's daughter, aren't you? I expected... more presence," Dimitri said, his smile the kind that disarmed with words rather than weapons.
He stood up and slowly circled her like a predator sizing up his prey. His eyes scanned every inch of the girl as she stood still, fists clenched.
"Blonde, light eyes—but not green like the report I have on Aisha..." he continued, stopping right in front of her.
With a swift motion, she removed the scarf and faced him directly. This is for you, Varek... and for everything we never said before this turned into war.
"I didn't come without a plan," she said, voice steady. "I'll take full responsibility for Varek's actions."
Dimitri let out a laugh—amused, but laced with contempt.
"Do you even realize how serious that is?" he replied, leaning closer. "Varek disobeyed the Community. I could order his arrest right now. You've broken the law and come here to face the consequences... for him? How brave."
Ishana didn't flinch. Her gaze remained locked with Dimitri's.
"We never broke the laws—not to become murderers," she said, her voice revealing her disdain for his twisted ideals.
Dimitri smirked, his expression turning cold.
"Naive. I have eyes and ears all over the city," he said calmly, stepping closer. "It's a shame you have to sacrifice yourself in his place."
At that moment, noise from the hallway interrupted them. The office door burst open, and Varek strode in with firm steps.
"Varek!" Ishana gasped.
"Ishana, what the hell are you doing here?" Varek growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the door, never breaking eye contact with Dimitri. " You're leaving now. You have no idea what you're talking about.
Dimitri watched them, amused, resting against his desk.
"Ishana, was it?" he said mockingly, stopping Varek with just a glance. "Still playing the hero, Varek?"
Varek halted at the doorway, jaw clenched.
"This isn't a joke, Dimitri. If there are punishments or consequences, I'll take them. She has nothing to do with it."
"Oh, Varek, always so noble," Dimitri replied with a poisonous smile. "Remember that... for old times' sake. And good luck Ishana."
Flashback: The Dry Tower
Dimitri had always possessed a disturbing obsession with beauty. To him, beautiful things had a time limit—and it was his duty to preserve them before they vanished. In a twisted attempt to pacify him, his father gave him a secluded tower, known only as "The Dry Tower."
Not even his older brother, Skiller, had access to it. But one day, Skiller and Varek decided to investigate. Using a pin and a hair clip, Skiller managed to unlock the padlock sealing the entrance.
Inside, they found a large chest emitting unsettling noises. Determined, Skiller undid the thick chains and opened it. A strange being emerged with awkward movements and eyes as black as the abyss.
"Watch out, Varek!" Skiller shouted, as the creature lunged at them.
With a broom, they managed to subdue it—but not before Skiller was severely wounded. When Varek finally approached the unmoving figure, he removed the cloth from its face.
What the cloth revealed was a girl—or what remained of one. Her lips were stitched with copper wire, and her skin was cracking like forgotten porcelain.
"You idiots! You ruined the only perfect thing I ever created..." Dimitri hissed. "Now all that's left is trash. I'll have to start again."
He knelt beside the corpse and injected a dark liquid into the girl's body, whispering:
"I need a new toy."
When a weakened Skiller tried to intervene, Dimitri immobilized him.
"You got Skiller in trouble with my father. So I have the right to claim something I'm interested in," he murmured, casting a twisted smile at Varek.
Back to the Present
Aisha couldn't shake the unease that Dimitri's name brought her. Fragments of her mother's memories and Skiller's cryptic words haunted her.
Determined, she followed Varek into a massive building, without him noticing it, to know the truth, even if Dimitri was inside.
I use the elevator and in the halls, she spotted Ishana, who looked as lost as she felt.
"Ishana," she whispered, recognizing her instantly.
Ishana turned, wary at first, but then smiled in relief.
"Aisha..." she breathed, her eyes glimmering. "I thought I'd never see you alive again."
Before they could speak further, Dimitri's voice rang through the corridor.
"How touching. The insolent daughter of the Community, Aisha," he said sarcastically as he approached.
Varek tensed the moment he saw her.
"We have unfinished business, Dimitri," Aisha said, pulling back her hood.
Dimitri stared at her, curiosity and delight flickering across his face.
"Pretty eyes... beautiful face..." he muttered, theatrically touching her chin. "But in the end, everyone bleeds the same when they cry for their dead."
"She is priceless," Varek interrupted, stepping between them.
Dimitri raised his hands in mock peace, his wicked smile unwavering.
"I want to try something—my favorite game. You know it: Live or Die. The rules are simple. Face your fears and survive. If not... well, I promise your suffering won't be brief."
Varek clenched his fists.
"She's not going alone. I'm here."
Dimitri laughed, savoring the tension.
"Perfect. I hope you both live long enough to curse my name... over and over again. If not, well—this will be your end."
He pressed the button, causing the floor to open up, swallowing Varek and Aisha instantly.
As he walked away, his echoing laughter filled the hallway, marking the beginning of a new deadly game.