The ground was unnatural. The Earth beneath them was not Earth at all—it was a grave disguised in silence.
No soil, no grass, just hardened, dead terrain stretched like a graveyard built by machines coated in metallic ash and gravel that felt too lifeless to belong to Earth. The area was encircled by wires laced with needle-like barbs, charged with high-voltage current, humming like a caged storm. Even the air smelled sharp, metallic—like blood waiting to spill.
Nine men stood in the centre. Each one was drenched in sweat, their wrists tied tightly behind their backs, and both legs bound to iron hooks drilled deep into the ground. The chains weren't decorative. They were sunk into the metal beneath their feet, and no amount of pulling, kicking, or twisting could dislodge them. No matter how they twisted or kicked, the metal hooks below held them with the grip of death—unyielding, unmoving, and merciless. A long silence hung over the space.
At one end of the field stood the Lady in the Black Dress, heels sunk into the dirt like she had sprouted from the very darkness around her. She didn't move. Her arms rested at her sides, but her eyes—sharpened into slits by a smile she could no longer hide—sparkled with the kind of joy only chaos could bring.
The nine men weren't alone. Across from them, in the shadows, came a low, rumbling growl.
The sound wasn't human.
From Lady in black dress side emerged nine wolves, each one massive, rippling with lean muscle. Their fur was a chilling blend of white and black, like ash and bone. Their teeth glinted. Chains clinked as Donovan's men held the beasts back, struggling to restrain the hunger in them. The wolves didn't bark. They growled. Growled like they knew what was about to happen.
And then—Donovan entered. He walked with Kai and Logan at either side, all three dressed in suits, each step slow and deliberate like kings entering a coliseum.
Three chairs had been placed to the left, overlooking the scene like a throne balcony. They sat down together, the weight of judgment falling like fog over the field.
One of the chained men broke first. He stuttered, raised his voice, and tried to be heard.
"Donovan, please—we didn't know she was yours! She kept saying Nova instead of Donovan. If she had just said your full name—just once—we wouldn't have dared to look at her even! Please believe me!"
Another shouted quickly, desperation thick in his throat. "When we realised she wasn't the one we hired, we should have let her go. We know that. We know! Please forgive—"
"You should have stuck to the plan," Donovan interrupted, voice calm but sharp as a rusted blade. "You saw she wasn't the one you ordered, and you didn't stop. Instead… you chose to feast on her fear.. You wanted to V—"
A third man dared to interject.
"We didn't touch her—"
"You did with your eyes, in your mind," Kai growled.
Logan scoffed and muttered, "You all enjoyed it…"
Donovan's jaw tensed. His eyes burned like a furnace behind shattered glass.
"I saw your faces," he said, standing. "When Roland tore her shirt, your eyes devoured her like wolves in silk suits. And when she brought her hands together—pleading, begging—you stood there. Like devils, watching your prey surrender."
He walked forward now, step by step as if every pace were measured in judgement. His voice deepened, slow and deliberate like a blade being drawn from its sheath.
"You want games?" he asked. "Fine. Let's play. For every lie you speak, the wolves move one step closer."
He snapped his fingers. The men holding the wolves stepped forward—one step closer. The growling grew louder.
"Every time your answer is incorrect," Donovan said coldly, "they get a step closer. And they haven't eaten in two days."
All nine men collapsed to their knees like broken kings on a battlefield they had never prepared for.
"Donovan, please!" one of them sobbed. "I'm sorry—we were high on drugs! If you want, I'll fall to her feet. I'll hold her legs and beg for forgiveness! I swear, I'll never look at another woman again! I'll marry the first girl my parents pick—I swear! Just give us one chance!"
The fourth man broke, voice trembling. "I'll give you everything I own. Properties. Assets. Land. I'll pledge my allegiance to the Magnum Empire. Just please—please stop this. I'll do anything."
These were the same men who had laughed when Liora flinched at their shadows. Donovan was close enough now to see the whites of their eyes, their lips trembling with guilt disguised as regret.
The same ones who had smirked when her voice cracked in fear.
The same ones who had backed her into a corner—ten against one—to watch her unravel like a spectacle for their egos. Now, they were begging. Crying. Pledging loyalty to the woman they once cornered like prey.
"She felt the same," Donovan said, voice low. "When ten of you closed in when her breath caught in her throat and her chest heaved with panic—she felt the same." He stared straight into the first man's face. "You laughed."
Donovan's voice darkened—raw, guttural. His veins stood like steel cables under his skin.
"You want to hold her legs now?" he hissed. "I should pluck your eyes out for even looking at her. I should smash your teeth in for laughing when she cried. I should cut your tongues out for calling her names, for mocking her, for violating her dignity. I should break your legs which moved towards her."
He turned his back on them and took a shaky breath—then he laughed. It wasn't joy. It wasn't madness. It was grief twisted into rage. Because he had seen every second of that video.
The fear in Liora's eyes. Her trembling lips. The way her voice broke when she begged them to stop. That pain… it had eaten him alive. And now, he wanted nothing more than to rip the world apart for her. But she… she had asked him not to. She wanted them to repent.
Donovan exhaled, fingers trembling, and looked over his shoulder at the nine men who once played gods. His eyes shone now, it was wet but not weak. "I should burn this place to the ground with you in it," he said softly.
He raised a single finger. "Let's begin the game."
The nine men remained kneeling, bound, broken, andsoaked in cold sweat under the darkening sky. Their breaths were uneven, their backs damp with fear. Every heartbeat sounded louder than the growling wolves pulling against their chains.
Then came her voice, the Lady in black dress. She lookedcool, Composed and sadistically curious.
The Lady in the Black Dress leaned into the microphone, her lips barely grazing it as she spoke, voice amplified across the metallic yard.
"Explain the concept of quantum superposition and describe how it relates to Schrödinger's cat thought experiment."
The words cut through the air like a scalpel.The men stared at one another, blinking, confused—like children thrown into a battlefield of ideas they had never been taught to fight in. The question wasn't just unfamiliarbutit was alien.
One of them muttered under his breath, "What the hell kind of question is that?"
Donovan, who had been pacing beside Kai and Logan, stopped. His black shoes stilled on the steel floor with a subtle click.
He turned when a slow smirk curved across his face, cruel and deliberate.
"Oh? Not to your liking?" he asked, eyes gleaming. "That's strange. I thought you enjoyed the questions. Didn't you ask her questions about your life when she didn't even know who the hell you were? His jaw tightened. "And the final three questions? About her body, … her limits?...and she must prove every beauty mark she has on her body? "
The wolves snarled as if they understood the shift.
Tears formed in the corners of their eyes—not from pain, but from complete and utter helplessness. None of them was prepared for the humiliation of this calibre.
The second question echoed: "What are the primary components of Uranus's atmosphere, and how do its characteristics compare to those of the other gas giants in our solar system?"
One man stammered, "G-gas… gas composition…"
The Lady in the Black Dress's eyes lit with wicked delight. Her smile was soft, but her voice was sharp. "You are not wrong. But we don't do partial answers here."
Another step forward by wolves. The wolves' claws scraped against the metal floor. The sound alone was enough to make one of the men faint, his body collapsing like a marionette with cut strings. Another began to shake violently, mumbling incoherent apologies to no one in particular. A third man let out a strangled sob as a dark patch bloomed beneath him, shame soaking into the ground that showed no sympathy.
And still… the questions continued.
"What is Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle?"
"Name the philosopher who said, "Hell is other people."
"Define entropy in the context of thermo dynamics."
None of them knew the answer. They had memorised market shares, people weakness to use to their advantage, offshore tax laws, bribery routes, and how to turn women into accessories for power—but now, they were stripped of all status. Their minds were blank. Their knees pained against the ground. Their pride shattered with every unanswered question.
Most of them collapsed to the ground in fear. And the Lady in the black dress laughed to her heart's content. "Take the wolves back to their place." She ordered, and another set of nine people emerged from the shadow. "Take them and make to labour work. And give food only once they are finished with work."
Donovan rose from his seat with a silence that felt heavier than a slammed door. His eyes shifted to Logan first, then Kai. The look alone could've turned fire into frost.
"We are going to have a talk tomorrow," he said, tone quiet… but nothing about it was calm. "And Kai TAKE CARE of Liora at the party!"
Kai instatnly nodded.
Both Kai and Logan, neither dared to meet his gaze. Their expressions didn't change, but internally, panic shuffled like a deck of bad cards. A confrontation with Donovan wasn't a conversation—it was a reckoning. One that left bones metaphorically, and sometimes literally, rearranged. The only sanctuary they could think of was Aunt Evelyn—the only person who might still have enough emotional leverage to help them from the abyss. Or is it Liora....?
Their spiraling thoughts were cut off by Donovan's voice—sharp, sudden.
"I'm going to Twilight Zone," he said, already halfway to the gate. "To meet Raynor."