"What's the situation?" Vice-Director Magpie asked, hurrying into the security centre.

Ultraviolet Tower was in chaos. As if the events happening on Serendipity weren't bad enough, Magpie had just been pulled from a teleconference with Planetary Control and what remained of the Central Governing Council to learn that Ultraviolet Tower itself was apparently under assault, too. While the top brass coordinated their next moves from orbit, it was Magpie's job to protect the home front.

The security centre was a rectangular bunker, lined with control stations manned with anxious operators -- although the mood seemed to calm a bit now that leadership had arrived. Operator Hersch, who'd been directing the room previously, clutched a script to her chest as she stepped forward to give her report.

"Two intruders, we believe," she said seriously. "High-level Aether-users. They've breached the building through the maintenance section and we believe they've entered Sector X9. Harlequin Squad was deployed to respond."

"And?" Magpie ran a hand back through his silver hair, leaning into a security station, his Cogitant-blue eyes flicking between the surveillance screens.

"One survivor," Hersch replied gravely. "And that's… only by technicality."

"Quite a few surveillance cameras are down," Magpie noted, poking a finger at the blank feeds in front of him. "They must have a countermeasure. Who do we have on the way down?"

Hersch flipped the script in her hands, scrolling through the screen as she read aloud. "Evergreen Squad and Zaffre Squad are on their way down now," she said. "Three other squads on standby. Non-essential personnel were already evacuated from the Tower earlier, but the surrounding levels have now been cleared out entirely. No obstacles to engagement."

Magpie nodded curtly, his gaze still fixed on the line of surveillance feeds before him. They were going out, one by one, replaced by pitch-black absence. His brow furrowed.

"We still have internal monitors," the nearest operator said, pulling up a new window. "Zaffre Squad has arrived on the scene and are now engaging. They --"

His voice trailed off, and his face turned pale. Hersch looked down at him. From the look on her face, it seemed she had already realized, but she asked anyway.

"What is it?"

The operator looked up at her and Magpie. "Zaffre Squad… eliminated. All squad members wiped out."

Magpie stepped forward, snatching up a headset and linking himself into Evergreen Squad's communications. "Vice-Director Magpie speaking," he said quickly. "Do not engage, I repeat do not engage! Stand by and await further orders."

The leader of Evergreen Squad, at least, seemed to be retaining his calm. "Roger."

Magpie flicked the headset up and turned to Hersch. "We have people where Harlequin Squad fell? You said there was a survivor."

Hersch nodded shakily. "Hulk Clover -- it seems he's been infested by some kind of ability. He fired upon the recovery team when they arrived, but they were able to bring him down non-lethally."

"I want a full examination of him," Magpie ordered. "We need to know what we're dealing with."

As Hersch hurried to carry out his orders, Magpie took a step back…

…and a quiet voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't turn around."

The idea would never have even occurred to him. His body's response to the voice was an instinctual thing. His limbs felt tight, locked in place. A cold sheen clung to his skin. Even his saliva seemed reluctant to pass all the way down his throat. Fight or flight were both useless here, his animal brain knew.

The only hope, his body felt, was to play dead… but even that was useless.

So quiet only he could hear it, the voice continued.

"Don't look alarmed. Don't raise your voice. Otherwise, you and everyone else in this room will die. Do you understand? Nod just slightly if you do."

Magpie followed his instructions to the letter. Fractionally, just fractionally, he turned his head down.

"Good. Now… you're going to go into your office. Say you need to speak to the Director or something like that. Understand? I'll still be behind you… but don't you dare try something."

Again, Magpie gave a tiny nod. He had no doubt that the voice was speaking true. The reason for that lay within his own chest.

Magpie's Aether ability, Silver Instinct, generated a phantom heartbeat that thumped beside his own. He could designate a target, and the phantom heart would beat faster or slower depending on the amount of danger it was in at that present moment. It was a useful power for risk assessment, one Magpie had used to climb the ranks to Vice-Director.

Right now?

Silver Instinct was going so fast he couldn't even feel the intervals between heartbeats anymore.

"Hersch, you have the room," Magpie said, throat dry. "I need to liaise with the Director."

And, aware of something still standing right behind him, Magpie slowly turned and walked -- right into the waiting door to his office at the back of the room.

He vanished into the unlit room -- and as the doors slid closed behind him, it almost looked like a mouth snapping shut.

Blood dripped from Niain's hands as he moved quickly down the hallway, his shadow slithering behind him. Clearly, they'd already evacuated most of the building already -- apart from the team of soldiers Niain had massacred a few minutes ago, he hadn't encountered anyone else since entering the building. That was lucky, at least. It meant that security would be focused on key areas right now.

"My lord," Smith bubbled from beneath him. "What do you intend? Is the mission still viable?"

"Hm?" Niain didn't look down at his shadow as he kept walking. "Of course it's still viable, haha, why would you ask that?"

"The Shepherdess' pursuit… that woman is on ground that favours her again…"

Niain shook his head. "That old lady isn't the sort of person who's comfortable with a long protracted battle. Now that she's failed to kill me quickly, she'll retreat and switch tactics. I'm not worried about another frontal assault."

"Do you intend to switch tactics too, then, my lord? Is that the reason you bring that along?"

Indeed, not both of Niain's hands were empty. With his right, he was dragging along the corpse of one of their assailants -- the only one from the team that was still relatively intact, clad in combat armour. Ordinarily, the trail of blood he left behind would have given their position away, but Smith dutifully sipped it up as they went.

"This?" Niain smiled. "This tool will help us out pretty soon. I don't want to spoil it, though, haha."

"What of reinforcements, then? One of Pandershi's bodies is surely in the vicinity, at least -- or shall I call McCoy?"

Niain shook his head. "I don't want to put Zephyr in a position where he can feasibly betray me and get what he wants at the same time. McCoy, though? Hm… she could help, but it's better to keep her away. It's not impossible that I die here, haha. If that's the case, it'd be foolish for me to take my second-in-command down with me."

"Second-in-command…?" Smith seemed perturbed.

They reached a junction and Niain stopped, sighing.

"Ideally," he said. "I'd like to head straight down to the research department and get what I came here for… but that's probably not possible so long as the Shepherdess is still around."

"But I thought you said she would retreat?"

"Just a little bit," Niain corrected. "With her speed, she'll have been able to get basically anywhere in the building by now. If I was a prophet…"

He put a bloody hand to his chin, narrowing his eyes.

"...I'd say she's already commandeered the building's security."

Vice-Director Magpie swallowed. Before him sat the thing that had made him certain of his own death.

It was a young woman with bright blonde hair and gleaming pink eyes, with a friendly smile on her lips. As if the discrepancy between her appearance and the dreadful pressure she exuded wasn't enough… Magpie recognised her. But it couldn't be, could it?

"Roxie Oona?" Magpie breathed. "You're that Special Officer… from back then…"

Seventeen years ago, a mission had taken place on the border between the Supremacy and the Unified Alliance of Planets -- a mission kept secret from the civilian governments of both nations. Forces from the Ultraviolets, the Special Officer's Commission -- hell, even the Ascendant-General himself -- had come together to try and put an end to the Darkstar organization once and for all.

They'd failed, of course. The boy who'd been acting as their leader had been killed, but the rest of the group had escaped. The bizarre image of the Ascendant-General, cradling that small corpse as bugs writhed out of it, haunted Magpie's nightmares even now.

And today a part of that nightmare had crawled out and sat atop his desk, legs crossed.

She hadn't aged a day.

"You remember me, then," Roxie Oona smiled. "That makes things easier."

"What is this?" Magpie breathed. "Are you here to kill me?"

Roxie cocked her head. "Why would I be here to kill you?"

"The Supremacy is attacking Serendipity right now… and you are a Special Officer of the Supremacy. I don't think it's an absurd idea."

"Oh, right," Roxie blinked, as if the attack on Serendipity had slipped her mind entirely. "Right, yeah, that's a bit of a disaster… but it's not why I'm here. You have a pest problem, from what I understand. Downstairs, right?"

Magpie's stare hardened into a glare. "That's where you entered, then? Killed our people and made your way up here? Your ability gave you super-speed on flat surfaces, from what I recall."

"Not me," Roxie shook her head. "I'm here in pursuit of a criminal -- he's the one who killed your men."

Magpie scowled. "What sort of criminal would bring you all the way out here, at a time like this?"

Roxie looked at him seriously.

"His name is Niain," she said. "The king of Darkstar."

Magpie's face dropped. His heart -- with both its racing heartbeats -- nearly dropped into his stomach. It wasn't just Roxie Oona who had crawled forth from his nightmares, then.

The entire damn horror had come out to play.

"Looks like you appreciate the severity of the situation," Roxie said. "Don't worry, though. When it comes to this freak…"

She smiled a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"...I'm the best expert in the galaxy."

Niain wondered if it was a good idea to take the elevator in a situation like this. Probably not. Even if his little fairies had already taken out the surveillance in this part of the building, there was nothing stopping them from just stopping all the elevators mid-flight as a precaution. Then, it'd turn into a whole hassle. Maybe you would have done something different, but that was Niain's thought process.

Of course, that also meant the time had come to use his makeshift helper.

Niain crouched down next to the corpse, letting insect agents flow out of Ahura Mazda and into the unfortunate man's clammy flesh. The cadaver twitched as the insects burrowed deep, steadily integrating themselves with his nervous system. Puppeteering the dead was a cheap trick, and hardly as convincing as what he could do with a live subject, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Once the insects had assumed enough control to get the dead body to its feet, Niain planted a hand on its shoulder and infused it with a wealth of his jet-black Aether. The effects of the infusion didn't much matter -- the important part was that this walking corpse would produce a response to an Aether ping, while the cloaked Niain would not. This way, there was a good chance the Shepherdess would mistake this zombie for Niain himself… at least for a few minutes.

"Excellent thinking, sir!" Smith exclaimed.

"Once she's gotten control of the building's security," Niain said casually. "She'll probably start her hunt with an Aether ping. I don't want her thinking she can't find me, so I'll send this little guy off so she has a trail to follow."

"Begging your pardon, sir… but you want to give her a trail? This isn't just a decoy?"

"If she thinks she can't find me no matter what," Niain explained. "She might just decide to write off the entire building and everything in it. I'm pretty sure her Time Crash is capable of that."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Time Crash -- the Shepherdess' final trump card. An Aether ability with a potentially huge area of effect, capable of temporally shredding through kilometers of space in a few seconds. Niain had never heard of anyone who'd survived it.

"There's stuff in here we need," he nodded to himself. "So that's my worst case scenario. Oh, speaking of Time Crash…"

Once Niain was done talking to Smith, he waved off his new corpse friend, watching proudly as it lumbered down the hallway. Now, with the time that trick would buy him, he could get his hands on an internal layout and…

Nian coughed.

Niain frowned.

Niain wiped his mouth and looked at the black blood in his hand.

Me, he thought. Falling ill?

Not possible.

"What is it, my lord?"

"Haha," Niain wiped his black blood on his cloak. "Looks like I underestimated her. That's so embarrassing, I went out of my way to do the zombie bit and everything. She sure does work fast."

He narrowed his eyes, preparing himself in the seconds still available.

"It's started."

There were two names considered 'urban legends' among the spectrum-titled combat squads of the Ultraviolets: Vantablack and Spectralon.

Of course, Vantablack had actually become real -- twice, even. Once during the tenure of Director Verdelstal, before his impeachment, and then again as the personal black ops team of Jaime Pierrot. Spectralon, on the other hand, was definitely one-hundred percent a myth. No team working for the Ultraviolets had ever used that name.

Which made it all the more miraculous that Ruby Agnus, operative of Spectralon Squad, now stood in command of the security centre. Vice-Director Magpie hovered at her side. He'd introduced her to the staff and explained that she had been brought on-site to consult on the Hazzard situation. Since she was an expert on the criminal that had infiltrated Ultraviolet Tower, she would be leading the hunt for him, too.

Ruby Agnus, better known as the Shepherdess, was cutting quite the striking figure. With a stark-white business suit, a scarlet bandana, and crimson-tinted sunglasses, it did beg the question of how exactly she'd ended up going unnoticed enough to qualify as an 'urban legend' -- but a certain degree of eccentricity was apparently expected. Over the last thousand years, she'd ended up recording quite the wardrobe into her Aether. It was always fun to come up with new disguises.

"Madder Squad, Capri Squad, Jonquil Squad, Marigold Squad, all in position, ma'am," an operator called out, the forces of the Tower now moving according to the Shepherdess' guidance.

"Let's get eyes on him," she said, tilting her sunglasses down just a touch.

Hersch, now manning a console herself, looked up at her. "Surveillance is down all across that part of the building. We can't --"

"The cameras, right?" the Shepherdess cut her off. "That's fine. He uses these little insects that seek out and eat rhizome in circuit boards - that'll take most modern cameras out of commission. You have heat sensors in the floors, show me those. He doesn't have body heat, so look for a spot slightly below room temperature. That'll be him."

Right now, it was almost like the Shepherdess was a prophet. Just as she'd predicted, a dark stain was present in the mass of bright colours that lit up the screen. Niain, in a corridor just outside of an elevator station, not yet knowing he was surrounded.

"Wait for it to take effect…" the Shepherdess raised a finger.

The dark spot brightened, just slightly, just for a moment.

The Shepherdess threw that finger back down. "Go."

As the attack commenced, Magpie leaned in to whisper in the Shepherdess' ear, his eyes flicking around cautiously. "Are you sure this will work?"

She turned to look at him, a thin smile on her lips.

"Overwhelming him with sheer numbers and variety of abilities," she said, summing up their strategy. "Don't worry."

Her smile opened into a bright grin.

"That's the way we kill Niain," she lied.

COMBATANTS REMAINING

100

It was only a second after Niain realized he was under attack that the attack went from subtle to loud.

The wall to his right was smashed inwards -- and a wave of bioluminescent tentacles rushed forth, binding and constricting Niain's body in an instant. The wall to his left was sliced apart -- and a series of nearly-invisible strings lashed out, wrapping around Niain's neck and limbs tightly enough to draw blood. All the while, he could feel that sickly feeling spreading through his chest, like a rat was crawling around between his organs.

He coughed again, and more black blood spilt from his lips.

"My lord!" Smith cried -- but even he had been immobilized, pressed flat against the floor by a single bulky tentacle.

"Haha, don't freak out," Niain said cheerfully. "We tried our best, but it looks like Darkstar lost."

Needless to say, nobody in the vicinity believed his words for a second. Slowly, the team that had immobilized the enemy -- Capri Squad -- came out of hiding, their rifles trained on Niain. Four members, as was standard. All of them clad in combat armour, too. Uniforms… so impersonal. The willingness to be wacky was something Niain usually enjoyed about Aether-users.

He scanned them with his black eyes, linking abilities to individuals. The tentacles manifested from portals above the shoulders of the one who seemed to be the commander, while the other ends of the strings were wrapped around the fingers of a subordinate. A third was holding up the back of his free hand, a purple tattoo crackling through the glove. Some kind of ability enhancement? That would make sense, considering how strong the tentacles and strings were.

Which just left the fourth member of the team, who was keeping the greatest distance of all. Not too hard to figure out what they were doing.

"I'm surprised," Niain smiled at them, even as blood dribbled from his lips. "Most poison isn't compatible with me at all -- it's not even a matter of potency. I wonder what the mechanics of your ability are. Won't you tell me?"

They ignored his earnest plea -- the commander instead putting a finger to his ear.

"Subject restrained," he said. "Proceeding with the termination strategy."

Oh? Niain kept smiling to himself, even whistling. He wondered what sort of goose chase the Shepherdess had tricked these poor folk into.

The Shepherdess crossed her arms as she watched the perspective from the team's visor-cams, the sight of Niain firmly restrained pulling her lips into a smirk.

"So long as his arms are restrained…" she said coldly. "...he can't use his abilities."

Niain's pale face stared back out of the monitor, still smiling that stupid smile, as if he were mocking her personally. Probably he was. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out who was directing the troops here.

The Shepherdess leaned into the microphone again. "Good work restraining his shadow -- but be sure not to get close to it. It's faster than you can react to." She narrowed her eyes. "This guy has modified his body extensively -- stolen Gene Tyrant technology. A normal mortal wound won't even make him flinch. Destroying the brain is the safest bet, but the skull is sturdy -- and you need to make sure he isn't able to move anymore before you get anywhere close to him. Cut off his limbs and crush his chest. Understand?"

"Understood, ma'am," the commander's voice came back -- a little shaken from her explanation.

The story she'd given about Gene Tyrant technology was total nonsense, of course -- Niain's peculiarities were the result of modifying himself using his own Aether constructs -- but introducing a whiff of the Tyrants would impress the severity of the situation on these plastic soldiers. Honestly… all these colour names and whatnot were ridiculous. Back in her day, the Zeitan Morhan had been brought together through the strength they'd honed and the resolve they'd fostered -- not by some invisible hand deciding they'd work well together. That was not how warriors were made.

They lived in such a peaceful time, and they still had the gall to tremble before an enemy like this? If they'd lived the Shepherdess' life, then they'd understand what true terror was.

As Capri Squad got to work, the Shepherdess turned off the mic and looked at the operator next to her, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell the other teams to hang back for the time being," she said, her face blank.

After all, once Capri Squad was wiped out, she'd need more pieces to pick up the slack.

Niain understood it.

What was inside his body right now wasn't poison in the traditional sense. It was a simple Aetheral process -- tiny usages of recording, over and over again. They must have laced the air itself with a tiny infusion of Aether, letting it build inside Niain's system over a couple of minutes before activating it.

Going off of his internal Aether ping, the targeting seemed pretty much random. A tiny part of his insides would be recorded -- and that recording simply deleted, never to return again. It didn't matter what kind of body the target had with an ability like this -- it was a pretty hard rule that organisms needed their innards to keep on living. Even Niain, who only really required a couple of his post-human organs to continue functioning, would be severely weakened.

McCoy could probably think of a clever workaround for this -- and, honestly, Niain could too. There just wasn't any time. Niain had to divide his attention between the four Aether-users around him and diligently murder them without showing favouritism.

That was why he whistled.

Niain often liked to portray the image that he controlled his various thralls through telepathy or some other such mental means, but that wasn't actually quite true. Sure, on occasion he would recreate part of his brain inside an insect, allowing it to transmit a part of his will and persona into another person's mind, but that wasn't practical to do every time. Mostly, he used means such as manifested pheromones, preprogrammed key words…

…or certain ranges of sound.

Niain's zombie came around the corner. At the sound of its master's melody, it had immediately turned around to return to him. What a loyal and splendid friend! The team were raising their rifles in its direction, shouting in alarm, but it was already too late.

Niain sharpened his song -- and the staggering cadaver broke into a perfect sprint, destroying itself through its movements as it charged down the hallway. Plasma bolts slammed into its body, tearing chunks of it away -- but it was still good, still good. Niain watched eagerly as it passed the point he needed…

…and then he clicked his tongue.

The zombie exploded, the insects within triggered for self-destruction by Niain's signal. Blood and meat and brains and -- most importantly -- bone flew in every direction, sharpened to shrapnel by the wonderful insects. A cluster of tentacles moved over to shield the team from the hail of humanity, but they had never been Niain's target.

No, his target was the string binding his left arm. The tiniest scrap of skull cleanly severed it, relieving the pressure on the limb.

Niain smiled.

"Ahura Mazda."

Two deaths in two seconds.

For the tentacle-user, Niain presented tentacles of superior numbers and strength. Pitch-black tendrils lunged out of the white singularity, smashing the enemy against the ceiling and reducing him to paste.

For the string-user, Niain elected to demonstrate the virtue of restraint. Rather than sending out a great number of strings, he used only one -- thinner and sharper than anything humans could make, as dark as midnight. With a single swing of his finger, the enemy was sliced in half before he could even blink.

Niain had always enjoyed replicating and improving upon the abilities of others, ever since he was a child. His siblings had certainly experienced that fact firsthand, in those rose-tinted days they'd spent aboard the Shesha. Ahura Mazda was flexible enough to at least mimic the effects of most abilities -- and the look of betrayal in someone's eyes as they fell to something they thought was a part of them just couldn't be beat. It was the ultimate in intellectual conquest and violation.

But still, Niain couldn't lose himself in nostalgia. There was death yet to be dealt.

Angra Mainyu.

It was easy enough to carve himself out of the fading tentacles, and easy enough to lunge down the hallway towards the ability-enhancer. Niain didn't care too much about this guy -- he let Smith slice him up as they came in range, then kicked off his chest to launch himself towards the last remaining squad member on the other end of the hallway.

The poison-user. The one who had impressed Niain, just a little, by reintroducing the concept of nausea which he'd thought long since banished. This young man deserved a fitting reward.

With one hand, Niain tore the helmet away. With the other, he forced his jaw open. Wide eyes of terror stared up into Niain's placid malice.

Ahura Mazda.

A single drop of dark liquid oozed out of the white void, and soaked into the young man's tongue.

"Bon appetit."

Niain let go and threw him down to the ground, already losing interest. If not for the volume of the young soldier's screaming, he might have forgotten he was there entirely. Already moving on, Niain stepped over his body and continued down the hallway, even as the young man's skeleton writhed rebelliously under his skin. Within a few seconds, his body would look more like a bloody tree than anything else. If Niain was a doctor, he would advise euthanasia, but it would already be too late by that point. He was set for a long life.

As the Shepherdess watched vital signs go out, one by one, she sighed and closed her eyes.

REMAINING COMBATANTS

96

"All squads," she said, resting her hands on the shoulders of the operator before her. "Move in."

With each wave of his hand, Niain took a life.

REMAINING COMBATANTS

93

To tell the truth, it had been a good while since he'd been able to truly go wild like this. When had the last time been? During Kadmon's Dawn Contest, definitely, when he'd gone out and acquired those presents for the big man himself. That had earned him decades of comfortably luxuriating in a Supreme's misery and despair, well worth it.

It was true that, next to plotting, waiting was Niain's favourite thing in the world…

…but it did feel good to finally cut loose.

REMAINING COMBATANTS

91

Angra Mainyu.

Niain activated the black void just as he rushed by a blasting soldier, delicately and elegantly scraping her face off of her body. She fell to the ground, screaming, only to be silenced by a stomp that thoroughly finished off her brain. Niain kicked the corpse up a moment later, using it as a shield against the rain of plasma coming down the hallway.

Ahura Mazda.

A sub-machine gun of black carapace dropped out of the white void, ready for Niain's use -- and he let loose a hail of return fire against his attackers. Two enemies with shielding abilities deflected the bullets, sending them clattering to the ground, but that was fine.

After all, those weren't bullets at all.

As the spiders hatched and began their screeching feast, Niain switched out his gun for a katana of pale bone, cutting down a spectral dolphin as it rushed at him. He had to admit, though, that one hurt. Dolphins were his favourite mammals, due to their various forms of recreation.

Oh well.

Smith snatched an arrow out of the air before it could hit Niain's back, and hurled it back at the attacker, impaling him against the wall. As ever, the power of friendship was the truest supremacy in this world.

Moving faster than the eye could see, Niain leapt back into the fray, blade already dancing.

COMBATANTS REMAINING

85

The Shepherdess' voice was calm as she reiterated her earlier guidance, pacing back and forth behind the operator's stations.

"He has two abilities," she said steadily, eyes glancing between monitors as various visor-cams were destroyed or drenched in blood. "The black sphere destroys and the white sphere creates. He likes to make it look like each sphere is fixed to a specific hand, but he can switch them around however he likes. If you fall for it, you'll die."

Stopping, she leaned into the station of another operator, putting a hand on her arm.

"Where's the closest armoury?" she asked the young woman.

The girl's eyes flicked down to the Shepherdess' hand, then back to her face, but she answered all the same. "Um… one floor down, but I don't think it's a matter of lacking weaponry…"

"Head down there and get it unlocked," the Shepherdess replied firmly. "If it comes to it, we'll need everyone in here armed too. Can you do that for me, sweetie?"

The operator turned as red as a peach, but she hurried off to follow instructions all the same. The Shepherdess straightened back up, returning her gaze to the monitors even as Magpie lingered uncomfortably behind her.

"Who is he?" the Vice-Director asked quietly.

"Hm?" the Shepherdess glanced over her shoulder. "I already told you. He's Niain. The king of Darkstar."

"I know that," Magpie said. "But… who is he? That he can do all of this like it's nothing…"

The Shepherdess considered the question for a moment, before responding with one of her own: "Do you believe in absolute good?"

"No," Magpie replied instantly. "The world doesn't allow that. The act of living alone puts you in the grey."

"I do," said the Shepherdess, turning back towards the monitor. "I believe that when someone opposes Niain, whoever they are, they become a force for absolute good in that moment. That's who he is."

As Magpie considered her words, the Shepherdess leaned in closer to the monitor, as if her gaze could pierce through the screen and reach her hated enemy directly.

For the time being, everything was going according to plan.