The corridors were thick with smoke and dust, the air heavy with the aftermath of my little orchestration. I leaned against a scorched wall, watching Krain's temper flare and Carrow's alliances twist, savoring the subtle chaos I'd engineered.
Soft scrape… distant drip…
From the shadows, a familiar presence lingered Elliot. He moved without sound, eyes scanning, silent but sharp. I felt it before I saw it: the weight of judgment, the reminder that someone had seen the man I'd been and the one I was becoming.
"Enjoying this too much," he said, voice quiet but piercing, cutting through the hum of ruined machinery.
I raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at my lips. "Maybe I'm just better at it than the rest of them," I replied. Voice low, casual, but underneath, a thrill danced through me.
Clatter… soft rumble…
He didn't move closer, didn't need to. His presence alone was enough to twist the corridors tighter, to make the air taste sharper. I could see the warning in his eyes: not a threat, but a mirror. A mirror reflecting every corner of ambition and cruelty I'd cultivated.
Rattle… faint hiss…
I allowed a laugh, dry, low. "Ah, a concerned shadow. How original," I muttered. "Relax, I'm not handing out participation trophies." The words were a shield, sarcasm my armor.
Pop… faint groan…
Elliot's gaze never wavered, tracking every twitch of muscle, every shift in posture, every subtle gesture I used to nudge the lieutenants toward each other. And I realized, with a flicker of unease I quickly shoved aside, that he could see the patterns I thought hidden.
Click… soft metal scrape…
"You're not even human anymore," he said, almost a whisper. Not accusation, not question. Just fact.
I straightened, letting the smoke curl around me, letting the corridors echo my calm. "Then maybe human isn't good enough," I said, letting the words carry my defiance and amusement.
Drip… distant clatter…
He didn't respond. He simply melted back into the shadows, leaving me with the knowledge that my manipulations were no longer private. And yet, a small spark of satisfaction flared I was effective. Too effective, perhaps.
I watched Krain and Carrow, the chaos still perfect, still unfolding. A smirk tugged at my lips. "I hear you, Elliot," I murmured, voice soft, sardonic. "But the game isn't over yet."