Guardians of The Damned-Chapter 55: A Smile

Applause followed. Some eager. Some nervous.

I didn't clap.

This man had trafficked humans like cattle. Burned settlements. Turned children into weapons. And now, he might be chosen by the Tree.

My jaw clenched.

I heard my brother's voice from years ago:

Power built on blood isn't power. It's rot dressed in silk.

I adjusted my cufflink.

It was time.

. . .

"Ladies and gentlemen," Gravendor began, his voice rich and effortless. "It's been centuries since we fled underground. We've lived in fear, cowardice, without dignity. The surface is ours to reclaim, not those creatures'. But this city... it's bound by rules forged by frightened cowards. And so, we've stagnated."

He let the word hang like smoke.

"But tonight changes everything. I didn't invite you here for comfort. I invited you for progress."

Applause rippled. The crowd—nobles, moguls, information brokers—fell into silence as Gravendor stepped forward.

"We've tried invading the surface again and again. Failure after failure. Yet we cling to the past, shackled by the laws of the dead. Fear has made us obedient. Order has made us weak."

He sipped from his glass. "But tonight, I offer you something else. A chance to inherit the future."

Eyes gleamed. Whispers spread.

Gravendor gestured to the towering, gold-trimmed cake in the room's center.

"Inside that cake lies a gift from the Great Tree. A Fruit of Advancement. Uncorrupted. Unclaimed."

Gasps broke out.

"This isn't a myth. It's real. The Tree let it fall—and I, of course, caught it. As any man of vision would."

Some clapped. Others whispered. The weight of what he'd said settled like ash.

"Those who stand with power won't just survive," Gravendor said, raising his glass. "They will shape the world."

Just then, the ballroom's double doors slammed open.

Ginto stood silhouetted against the light, his coat flaring, a sword across his back.

"GRAVENDOR!" he roared, pointing straight at him.

Music cut out. Guards reached for weapons.

"You thought you could leave me for dead? Burn my team? Steal what was mine?"

"Who is that?" someone whispered.

"I came to collect my debt—in blood!"

Gravendor's face stayed composed, but his jaw tightened.

"Remove him."

Guards surged.

Ginto unsheathed his blade, meeting them head-on. Screams echoed as chaos erupted. Some guests ran. Others filmed.

Behind a curtain, I slipped into view. No one noticed the faint hiss trailing me. Smoke curled around my fingers.

I pressed a device to the wall.

Then came the fog.

A sudden rush of thick, white smoke burst from the vents, chandeliers, even the seams in the floor. Screams rang out. Visibility dropped to zero in seconds.

"It's gas! Is it poison?!"

"Protect Gravendor!"

"Where is he?!"

I vanished into the fog, becoming part of it.

"Eve, you're up," I whispered through comms.

"Already moving."

Near the cake, Eve shed her server disguise. She knelt beside the towering confection and pulled out a scanning tool. The chamber inside was clear—one faintly glowing orb.

"Found it," she murmured.

Her hands moved with precision, swapping the real fruit with a flawless replica. She sealed the compartment just as someone stumbled nearby.

A servant bot rounded the corner, sensors flaring. Eve didn't hesitate—she drove a shocker into its neck, disabling it instantly.

"Fruit secured. Extraction route?"

"Back hall. Exit through the wine cellar."

Back in the ballroom, Ginto was surrounded but holding his ground. He played his role well—slashing near guests without harming them, using furniture for cover.

One of Gravendor's lieutenants lunged. Ginto parried and kicked the man into a wine table, sending bottles crashing.

Through the smoke, Gravendor was being escorted by elite guards toward a side door—but he halted.

He pulled a remote from his coat and tapped a button.

A blast of air shot from the ceiling, pushing back the fog. The emergency purge system.

I cursed under my breath. The room began to clear.

Gravendor caught a flicker of movement. Smoke... moving unnaturally. Forming a shape. A man.

"So the rats are here," he muttered.

He raised the remote to his lips. "Interesting guests tonight."

I stared back through the mist.

Time to go.

"Eve, status?"

"Out. Ginto?"

"On it."

Ginto knocked out one last guard and sprinted toward the balcony. He dove through the glass.

Outside, a drop cable swung in the wind. He caught it and zipped into the night.

I dissolved into smoke and reformed by the wine cellar stairs. As Gravendor's reinforcements arrived, I stepped into the hallway.

I inhaled deeply and exhaled a dense cloud. From it, a headless phantom with twin swords emerged.

I raised my arm. The phantom surged forward, slashing through Gravendor's men with blinding speed. In an instant, they dropped with deep wounds.

I chased after Gravendor. The phantom glided silently behind me.

I found him not far ahead, running with two guards—Honors, by the feel of them.

I conjured a sniper from smoke, took aim at Gravendor's head, and fired.

The bullet soared through the air—then froze, inches from its target. One Honor stared at it, eyes wide.

The other turned his gaze on me. Our eyes met. I smiled and vanished.

I reappeared beside the frozen bullet and punched the Honor who spotted me, just as the phantom struck the one who halted the shot.

Both flew backward, crashing into the walls.

I turned to Gravendor. His eyes were calm—like a boat steady in a storm. His expression unreadable.

"Kill yourself, or I'll do it for you," I said.

He studied me, then replied flatly, "Sunny. King of Phantom. Real name, Synnefo. Grew up in Gram. Received the blessing of the Great Tree at seven. Joined the military at thirteen. Fought in the war by fifteen. After five years, you were reassigned to the Phoenix Squad for killing your commander."

"You were supposed to be executed, but your achievements spared you—barely. They forbade you from ever returning to the surface.

"You have a mother. A little sister. Your father's in federal prison for fraud." He looked out the window.

"Cool story. Bit creepy being stalked by a guy, though. So what? It changes nothing. I'm still going to kill you." novelbuddy.cσ๓

"Your data is accessible to Synth's upper ranks. They watch your every move."

"Yeah? So?"

"This isn't freedom, Sunny."

"You want to talk about freedom? Using kids as weapons doesn't qualify."

"Is it wrong to do what's necessary—for this city? For us?" He turned toward me.

"Yes. It is. You hurt innocent children."

"It's for a better future. They'd be proud if they knew what I was working toward. I thought you were smarter than this."

"I'm smart enough not to become you." My hand slipped into my pocket.

The phantom charged.

Gravendor didn't flinch. But suddenly, the windows shattered.

Soldiers in sleek black uniforms descended, masks glowing with Synth's emblem—a silver eye within a triangle, branches curling like wings, thin lines like circuits, a downward blade piercing a small circle, all encircled by a sharp-edged halo of faint light.

A soldier spoke coldly, "Gravendor. By order of Synth's Central Council, you are to be detained for endangering national stability."

Gravendor smiled. "Took you long enough."