Renzo surveyed the compound through the glass window in the boss’s office. Crisp, filtered air filled his nostrils. The scent of Drakmar meat lingered in the room. The second puppet sat in the boss’ chair beside him.

  Renzo’s gaze tracked the mud one making his way through the inner compound, preparing to reveal what Renzo already knew.

  It had taken twenty years to prepare the failed puppet. Another year to dispose of it. It took a conspiracy with the government to clean up the mess. The results were tolerable.

  The mud one knocked on the office door. He waited for permission to enter. Renzo moved to stand beside the second puppet, adopting a stance that balanced power with subservience - appropriate for an underboss.

  He longed to celebrate his minor victory in peace, but the second puppet beckoned the mud one inside.

  The second puppet listened to the report, leaning back in the cushioned leather chair that Renzo had picked out with a smile. A comfort he had never known.

  The mud one recounted the scene of the failed puppet attacking the dusk house with the dweller.

  Renzo paid little attention - the third puppet had seen it all.

  He sighed inwardly. The second puppet sighed aloud.

  Kai was dead, but his body had vanished - a bad sign. The devious child’s hostility still lingered, aimed at his heart like an arrow. The web of danger remained taut.

  A partial success. Dakas’ ritual failed as predicted. The fool. Renzo would soon have a replacement for his third puppet.

  If he had trusted his Gift back then…If he hadn’t been so greedy…

  But what-ifs were useless. There was only now. Only forward.

  He had come this far - and he would go as far as it took to save them all.

  The mud one finished reporting what Renzo already knew and shifted to something more urgent.

  “I thought you’d want to know, boss,” the mud one said. “On my way back, I saw a man outside the compound. He looked like government. And he weren’t Marked. He was at least a Darkbound - or maybe a Saint.”

  The second puppet narrowed his eyes as Renzo focused on the conversation.

  “And why do you say that?” the puppet asked.

  “I dunno, I felt it - the pressure, the power radiating off the man. Like nothing I’ve felt before.”

  The puppet nodded. “Where is he now?”

  The mud one shrugged. “I don’t know. He was walking along the perimeter walls when I saw him. Didn’t seem in a hurry to come inside.”

  Not good.

  A government agent. Scouting their defences. Was this all a plan to take down both mobs at once? The chaos that would cause… But it wasn’t impossible. Renzo clenched his jaw behind the gas mask covering his face.

  “Good job on the report,” the puppet said as he gestured for the man to leave through the metal door.

  As the mud one neared the door, it burst open. A crushing weight pressed down on Renzo’s shoulders. He would have stumbled if the puppet outside hadn’t been watching.

  The mud one’s mouth gaped open, and he shivered. Losing his footing as he struggled to stay upright.

  A tall, middle-aged man in a grey suit and black trench coat stepped into the office. “Don’t mind me,” he said, moving aside to let the mud one pass. The lieutenant hesitated, as if he’d be any help against this monster.

  The second puppet nodded for the mud one to leave. He didn’t linger.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Light fixtures rattled. The safe underneath the boss’s desk groaned. The knife in Renzo’s sheath wobbled as if trying to leap free.

  The government Saint’s gaze swept across the office. “I trust you know why I’m here,” he said.

  Renzo masked the pulsing in his chest with a calm exterior. The second puppet nodded. “I imagine you’re—”

  “That’s enough of that,” the Saint instructed.

  “What do you—” The second puppet stopped speaking as the Saint’s glowing gaze locked onto Renzo. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he said.

  Renzo longed to take a deep breath, but the sound of his gas mask would betray his nervousness. He closed one eye, keeping the other on the Saint before him. Through the closed eye, he saw a bloody altar, a black book, and viscous black claws growing on a hand - his hand now.

  He opened his eye again. His heart rate slowed, though he remained alert.

  “Are we ready for the next step?” Renzo asked.

  “Almost,” the Saint replied. “We have the former lieutenants in custody. We’ll release them into your care after the takeover.”

  Renzo nodded. Expected news. Nothing that required a Saint’s personal visit.

  “I’m here to set terms,” the Saint said as he scratched the stubble on his jaw.

  Terms. A polite word for orders.

  The second puppet rose from the leather chair and stepped aside. Renzo sat in the boss’s seat for the first time. The Saint’s overwhelming pressure crushed his momentary comfort.

  “What would you have me do?” Renzo asked.

  The Saint smiled. Never a good sign. “With your upcoming growth in territory, the government expects a growth in your contributions.” The weight on Renzo’s shoulders grew heavier.

  The Saint’s chilling smile widened. “More taxes.”

  Predictable.

  “How much?” Renzo asked.

  The Saint stepped closer to the desk. The metal safe underneath wobbled in protest. Renzo’s knife quivered in its sheath. He struggled to find a way to steady it without offending the Saint.

  “Double,” the Saint said.

  Renzo bit back a curse. “Double?” he asked.

  “We’ve helped you double your territory, haven’t we? It’s a fair price for our hard work.” Renzo’s knife flew from its sheath and arced toward the saint. He braced himself to drop and beg forgiveness.

  But the saint smiled. The flat of the blade kissed his cheek and moved to shave his stubble.

  A fair price.

  A few blocks away, the fourth puppet scoffed. The government was the only one profiting from this deal. Compliance was the only choice. War was suicide. For now.

  “A fair price,” Renzo echoed.

  “Glad we’re on the same page.”

  This tax would make him look weak. Risky for the boss of a new regime. The Saint took a few steps toward the door and halted.

  “Keep your new abomination away from the dwellers. We don’t want to create a panic now, do we?”

  How could they know?

  Renzo fought the urge to close his eye and nodded instead.

  A deal with the government was a deal with the devil. But Renzo had already made a costly deal with a god. Another wouldn’t trouble his soul.

  The Saint left.

  Renzo waited for the objects in the office to settle. He rose and moved to his private quarters. The second puppet returned to its position in the leather chair.

  Everything remained where he left it - a good sign. He locked the door behind him and moved to sit in a wooden chair. His gaze fell on the ring on his right hand.

  The infinity symbol glowed. Dakas didn’t understand its worth. Neither did the old man who had sold it to him.

  But Renzo knew.

  A decade of researching the gods hadn’t been wasted. The power of a fundamental god lingered in the ring on his finger. Space god.

  A white glow covered the ring, and Renzo’s perception expanded.

  Closing his eyes, he saw the bloody altar and the black claws gripping the black book. His vision rippled.

  A middle-aged woman left the Darkshard mines and forgot her day’s work. The scene faded.

  The government Saint moved away from the compound, then stopped. He turned toward Renzo’s fifth puppet and smiled.

  Renzo opened his eyes and took the deep breath he’d been longing for. The sound of his gas mask’s filters echoed through the lonely room. He glanced at the ring once more.

  He had what he needed. He’d play the government’s lapdog for now - but he wouldn’t take orders forever.

  The second puppet rose from the leather chair and moved toward the compound’s main hall. Renzo left his wooden chair.

  He soon stood beside the puppet as it gave a speech to the pawns.

  “Today is an important day.”

  The hubbub in the crowd fell silent. “The Carvers have looked down on us for too long. Today, that ends.”

  Intense gazes locked on the puppet. “Their boss is dead. Their lieutenant’s taken care of.” Open mouths and gasps spread amongst the pawns.

  The puppet continued, “This is our opportunity - for everyone to make twice the money, get twice the women, and wield twice the power.” Cheers and nods ripped through the crowd.

  “We march into Carver territory tonight. Rough up anyone who won’t play ball, and give them a choice: join us - or die.”

  The puppet’s gaze swept the hall. “Keep it clean - don’t let the Darklands claim a single soul. The Dusk house is the first target. The rest will fall in line.” Cheers rose again, filling the hall.

  Renzo couldn’t lose. He had sold his soul to save humanity - who else could be more worthy to lead them?

  The puppet spoke once more, his frail old body carrying a regal air. “This was only possible because of my underboss, Renzo.”

  The puppet offered the gathered goons a fatherly smile. “He’s the future of the Serpent Mob, and from tonight onward, he is the new boss.” Open mouths, shocked faces. A moment of stunned silence - then the cheers erupted.

  The second puppet gestured to the end of the hall. “Now go. Your lieutenants will lead you. Report back to Renzo when you’re done.”

  The lieutenants fanned out among the pawns, giving orders and leading the assault. Renzo smiled beneath his mask. The second puppet smiled too.

  It was time - his move, his mob, his moment.

  What do you think Renzo's Gift is?

  Follow, Favorite, Rating, and Review.