The Extra Wants Control

Constantine, clad in his trademark black cloak, melted into the shadows of Stonegate's labyrinthine streets. He followed the wounded assassin, their movements swift and silent. The assassin, his face still masked by the remnants of his cloak, clutched his throbbing jaw, a testament to Viktor's earlier intervention.

Their chase led them through deserted alleys and bustling marketplaces, the cacophony of the city a strange counterpoint to the silent predator and prey dance they performed. Finally, the assassin reached a dilapidated building on the city's outskirts. He slipped through a hidden doorway, disappearing into the gloom.

Constantine, taking a deep breath, activated his own cloaking device and followed. Inside, the air hung thick with dust and the stench of mildew. Cobwebs draped precariously from the crumbling ceiling, casting grotesque shapes in the dim moonlight filtering through a boarded-up window.

The assassin limped towards a rickety staircase, his footsteps echoing ominously in the silence. Constantine reached the top of the stairs just in time to see him enter a small, cluttered room. Moonlight streamed through a single, dusty window, revealing the figure of the assassin kneeling before a holographic screen.

On the screen, a woman with sharp features and piercing blue eyes materialized. Her voice, clipped and efficient, filled the room. "Report, Agent Seven."

The assassin, wincing in pain, rasped, "It's done. The target… the daughter of Kensington… she's gone."

The woman on the screen nodded curtly. "Good. Wait for daybreak for further instructions."

The image flickered and died, leaving the room bathed in an unsettling silence. Constantine, hidden in the shadows, watched as the assassin, his cloak falling away for a brief moment, revealed a single, stark tattoo on his arm – the number 007, a mark that identified him as an agent of Gorgon.

A smile played on Constantine's lips. This changed things. He wasted no time, sending a coded message to Ray, relaying the information about the assassin's affiliation.

Within minutes, a reply arrived. Ray's voice, laced with a hint of amusement, echoed in Constantine's mind. "So this was Keller's idea. I can vaguely tell what she's planning. She's catalyzing the war to break earlier, forcing Stonegate to show its power. She's also trying to draw out Null and Babel's backers.

Hoh, that woman is smart."

A satisfied chuckle escaped Ray's lips. "Things will get interesting at daybreak. Okay, Keller, let's play."

********************

Dawn broke over Stonegate, painting the sky in hues of rose and gold. But the beauty of daybreak couldn't dispel the dark cloud of fear and suspicion that lingered over Babel. The echoes of the previous night's chaos still reverberated through the halls.

Inside the opulent chambers, Amber, dressed in a simple yet elegant white dress, held court in the communications room. A flurry of magical signals buzzed in the air - calls and letters flooding in from enraged nobles. Amber, her face a mask of strained politeness, spoke into a magical communicator.

"Yes, Lord Blackwood, we understand your concerns about your daughter's safety. A thorough investigation is underway, and rest assured, we at Babel will spare no effort to find the perpetrator." She said, her eyes hardening slightly.

" My daughter has been traumatized." Said a parent.

Aren't these children students at the Academy. They're training to be soldiers and you say they are traumatized by a little blood?

" Do you..."

She cut herself off, forcing a smile as another communication lit up. Internally, she scoffed. These pampered children, trained for war from a young age, were supposedly traumatized by a single, albeit staged, death? Absurd.

The next call was from a frantic Baron Rutherford. "Where is my son, Thomas?! You people promised safety! This is an outrage!"

"Calm yourself, Baron," Eric, his voice smooth but firm, took over. "We are currently conducting a full inventory of all students. We will locate young Thomas and ensure his well-being."

Another call. Then another. Each call a variation on the same theme – accusations of negligence, threats of lawsuits, and demands for explanations. Amber and Eric, along with a team of harried employees, worked tirelessly, fielding concerns and promises of swift action.

Suddenly, a new communication blinked on the console – a personal call from Lord Kensington, the father of the "deceased" child. Amber's smile vanished, replaced by a steely glint in her eyes. She answered the call with a cold courtesy.

"Lord Kensington, this is Amber from Babel."

"You monsters!" Lord Kensington's voice crackled with fury. "This isn't an accident! This is a deliberate act of malice by you and the corrupt City Lord! This 'accident' was no accident! It was a deliberate murder orchestrated by you at Babel and the corrupt City Lord! You didn't even have the courtesy of sending me her body.

My daughter's blood will be repaid, and Stonegate will burn!" The man was so angry that repeated some sentences.

Amber remained unfazed. "Such accusations are serious, Lord Kensington. Perhaps you would like to…"

"Blood will be repaid in blood!" he roared repeating himself, cutting her off. "Stonegate will pay dearly for this!"

He slammed the device shut, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. Amber exchanged a 'grim' look with Eric. A declaration of war, albeit a rather melodramatic one, delivered over a magical communicator. This was a new low.

Outside Babel, rumors spread like wildfire. Whispers of an assassination attempt at Babel, a young viscount's daughter slain within its supposedly secure walls, morphed with each telling. By mid-morning, the entire human continent was abuzz with the news.

Ray, seated in his dimly lit chamber, watched the news reports unfold with a sardonic smile. He knew Gorgon had a hand in the speed of dissemination. They wanted chaos, fear, and above all, public awareness of Babel.

But they had unknowingly played right into his hands. News travels fast, especially bad news. By noon, Babel, once an unknown entity shrouded in secrecy, was on everyone's lips. From the opulent palaces of noble houses to the bustling marketplaces where commoners laboured, the name "Babel" echoed.

Mission accomplished, Ray thought, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. Phase one – plant the seed of intrigue and generate buzz – was complete. Now, it was time for the next step. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of anticipation sparking within him.

***************

A holographic display flickered to life within Gorgon's dimly lit war room, casting an ethereal glow on the figures gathered around the central table. At its head sat Madam Keller, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, her face an unreadable mask. Agent 009, a gaunt man clad in black leather, stood before her, a tablet clutched in his hand.

"Madam Keller," he began, his voice devoid of inflection, "Viscount Kensington already prepared his troupes and is headed towards Stonegate. He'll arrive at dusk."

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Keller's eyes. "Good. The first domino has fallen."

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the other agents present. Each one, clad in Gorgon's signature black attire, stood at rigid attention, their faces betraying no emotion.

"Now," Keller continued, her voice sharper, "do we have an idea how many people are eying this war?"

"The region's nobles only," Agent 009 responded, consulting his tablet. "Some have split up into three factions: one supporting Stonegate, another backing Kensington, and the last remaining neutral."

Keller snorted. "Predictable. The ones supporting the players seek benefit. While the hypocritical neutrals are waiting to see which side wins so they can swoop in like vultures."

"That's not all," Agent 009 added. "Apparently smaller nobles are taking this as a chance to fight amongst themselves, hoping to expand their influence. And there's been a surge in inquiries regarding Babel. People are curious."

A slow smile crept across Keller's lips. "How amusing, isn't it, 009? How things change overnight just because of a well-placed assassination."

"Indeed, Madam," he agreed. "Kensington has also requested a report on Stonegate's strength and forces."

"Of course he has," Keller said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "The man's all bluster and no strategy. Take the request. We'll continue with our plan – infiltrate Stonegate, find traces of Null, get a lay of their strength, sell it all to Kensington, and keep a watchful eye on Babel. We want to know who's backing them."

She paused, her eyes hardening. "While we're at it, we might as well offer Kensington some 'assistance' in destroying Stonegate. A little nudge in the right direction, wouldn't you say?"

A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the room. The agents of Gorgon relished the prospect of chaos, and this war served their purposes perfectly.

"Excellent," Keller declared, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Prepare a detailed report for Kensington after investigating Stonegate. Highlight Stonegate's weaknesses, exaggerate their numbers. That way Kensington we'll feel the need to hire us and we'll 'cut down the numbers' for him to fight

We'll earn money for doing nothing. Let's fuel the fire and watch it consume them all."

As Agent 009 scurried away to fulfill her orders, Keller leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. The flames of war had been ignited, and Gorgon stood ready to fan them, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Stonegate, blissfully unaware of the viper in its midst, was about to face a storm of its own making, orchestrated by the masterminds of Gorgon.