“We’ll leave, we’re sorry,” one of the girls stammered as they all scrambled to get up, panic in their every motion.

“I changed my mind.” Hound’s twisted smile widened, his eyes glinting with something far darker than amusement. “It would be such a shame to leave these bottles unfinished. Stay! Why don’t we play a drinking game?”

Argent stood her ground, unmoving, still blocking Lucas in like a predator toying with its prey. Lucas’s wide eyes darted between Hound and the empty bottles scattered around them. His hands trembled, his facade of composure cracking. He swallowed hard, barely steadying his voice as he inquired, “It would be a shame indeed. What do you have in mind?”

A low chuckle escaped Hound’s lips, his tone playful yet menacing. “A simple game really. Truth, dare, or drink half a bottle in one sitting.”

Lucas’s shaking worsened. He tried to mask it but failed. “A fair game,” he bargained weakly.

Hound reclined in his seat, his posture deceptively relaxed. With a softened voice, he said, “Of course. I’ll let you start us off.”

Lucas hesitated, but he complied, his voice trembling. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Hound replied without hesitation.

“Are you here to kill me?” Lucas’s question came out sharper than he intended, a desperate attempt to regain control.

Hound smiled faintly, wiping his dagger clean on the shirt of the corpse beside him. “I’m not a rookie in my craft, Lucas. I know better than to publicly execute an influential figure of Rivermirror. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be gone, and no one would know who did it.”

Lucas blinked, his panic rising. “Then why are you—”

“That’s not how this game works, Lucas.” Hound’s interruption was calm, his tone laced with condescension. “Truth or dare?”

Lucas hesitated before muttering, “Truth.”

Hound leaned forward, his silver eyes locking onto Lucas. “There is a man. A man close to Emily and happens to be a friend of yours. What is his address?”

Lucas shook his head, his voice regaining some steadiness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hound’s smile widened as he dragged a full bottle of 45% alcohol across the table toward Lucas. “Fine. I’ll ask Emily myself.”

Soldiers paced back and forth at the military base, their movements hurried. The air was thick with tension, the security tighter than usual. Watch parties lined the perimeter, their eyes scanning for any sign of danger.

“Triple the security,” Commander Erlin ordered sharply, his voice cutting through the uneasy silence.

“Are we sure this isn’t a hoax?” Bleak, a veteran in the art of runic applications, questioned, his brows furrowed.

“I trust my informant,” Erlin replied as they hurried toward the steel vault entrance—a complex system only the brightest minds could operate.

The base buzzed with anxiety, soldiers rushing into formation, the weight of anticipation pressing down on them. The night stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity.

“You did what?!” Emily’s voice rose, arriving at the Dawson mansion, fatigue from her studies and exams doing little to mask her anger. “I told you it was fine!”

“What if something happened to you?” Daryl’s voice bit back, sharp and resolute. “He is a danger that needs to be taken care of.”

His wife, Mrs. Dawson, and their daughter Mavis watched the heated exchange in stunned silence, their confusion growing with every word.

“Why are you trying to protect him?” Daryl demanded.

“I’m not trying to protect him! I’m scared of losing you!” Emily’s voice softened, her anger melting into despair. “I was only with him for a brief moment, but I know enough to know you should just let it go.”

“I— I guess if this is what this is about, you have nothing to worry about. I am protected.”

“And I wasn’t?” Emily shot back, her voice breaking. “Was I not protected when I was kidnapped from the comfort of my bedroom? Were there not guards on duty? Protective runes? Expensive runes made for the sole purpose of protection?” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling.

Mrs. Dawson and Mavis exchanged worried glances, their shock deepening at the mention of kidnapping.

“Did they get him yet?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet. They’re still waiting,” Daryl admitted.

“We’re fucked.”

As the game progressed  at the bar, the requests got darker, “I dare you to pluck one of your eyes out,” Hound’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a death sentence.

The room was silent. The girls, as well as Lucas’s friends, sat motionless, their pale faces frozen in horror. Vomit stained their clothes, the stench of alcohol and fear hanging heavy in the air. Half the bottles littering the table were empty.

Hound sat completely sober, his expression cold and detached. The only signs of his participation in the game were the deep cuts on his arms, his charred lips, and three broken fingers from the times he had chosen a dare.

Lucas, now barely coherent, reached for the almost empty bottle. His limbs jerked uncontrollably, his eyes rolled back, and his breathing was slow and irregular. He gagged, occasionally vomiting on himself. His skin had taken on a bluish hue, his lips foaming as his body fought to stay alive.

Before his hand could reach the bottle, Hound’s dagger flew, piercing Lucas’s eye with brutal precision. Lucas didn’t react. He didn’t even flinch—his body too far gone to register the pain.

Hound leaned back, calmly bringing the gas mask to his face. He took a deep inhale, his silver eyes glowing before fading back to a dark brown. “That’s all I need,” he muttered, his gaze shifting to Argent. “As long as someone follows the script, that is.”

He tossed the gas mask toward Lucas, who fumbled to catch it. After some struggle, Lucas managed to put it on and took a deep inhale.

“Enough ether to keep you from dying of alcohol poisoning. Sadly, not enough to heal you. You’re rich, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out. The price for your sins was your sanity and your friends. Next time—well… let’s hope there isn’t a next time.”

Hound stood, leaving the dagger on the table as a chilling reminder.

Argent’s voice broke the silence as they exited the bar. “I’ve never seen you genuinely happy and smile as much as you did tonight.” Her tone was laced with worry.

“What can I say?” Hound replied, his tone cold and detached. “I’m in it for the love of the game. The money? Just a reasonable excuse.”

Her chest tightened, but she pressed on. “Why was that necessary? You don’t see the full picture, but you act out on what you see in fragments of the future without question?”

Hound smirked, his tone playful yet dark. “Yup. A future that benefits me. Monkey see, monkey do.”