Night had fully settled when Ken, still inhabiting Ayato's body, and Ariel finally acknowledged their defeat in the face of Enzo. The masked man watched them with terrifying calm, a cold, unsettling smile playing across his lips.
"You will stay here until morning," he said, his voice icy and deliberate. "And I have a gift for your grandfather… something that should pique his curiosity."
Ken and Ariel nodded silently, fully aware that any impulsive move could cost them their lives. Enzo escorted them into a stark, dimly lit room, secured by chains and heavy locks. The damp walls exuded a cold, musty scent, shadows pooling in the corners like liquid darkness. The air itself seemed suffocating, weighed down by tension. Ken felt his anger simmering beneath the surface, but he knew a single misstep could mean death. Ariel, ever impassive, scanned the room with methodical precision, already calculating every possible maneuver, escape, or counter.
The night dragged on slowly, each minute stretching like a taut wire. Ken could hear every creak of the floorboards, every distant whisper of the wind outside, his mind oscillating between rage and strategy. Thoughts of revenge clawed at him relentlessly—Ariel's betrayal, Ezekiel's presumed death, Ayato's demise. Yet, beneath that storm, a chilling awareness remained: survival came first. Every second could be their last in this claustrophobic trap.
When the morning finally arrived, Enzo kept his word. He slid an envelope across to Ken and Ariel, clearly marked for Bill Montclair. Then, without a word, he vanished into the shadows, leaving a silence that carried both relief and simmering frustration.
On their way back, Ken finally broke the silence:
"Tell me… do you know this so-called cousin of Enzo? The one who set this trap for us?"
Ariel shrugged, the calmness in his eyes unnerving.
"Not really. I don't know much about the Enzo family. But what I do know… this man is dangerous, and he has a plan. A very precise one."
---
Meanwhile, Yuri moved with cold efficiency. In a secluded house outside the city, he cornered John Grigor, a former OIMEN council member.
"John…" Yuri breathed, his voice low and icy. "Do you remember Lyannah Godfrey?"
The old man trembled, sweat forming along his brow.
"Ly…annah… I… I don't know…"
"Don't lie," Yuri hissed, weapon raised. "Every second counts."
The shot rang out, precise, merciless. No hesitation. No tremor.
Yuri stepped back and watched the body slump lifelessly to the floor. A single thought coursed through his mind: methodical vengeance, calculated and measured, yet never without memory. Shadows swallowed him as he melted into the night, a silent predator moving toward the Montclairs, prepared to continue his grim work.
---
Back at the Montclair Manor
Ken and Ariel pushed through the manor doors, still shaken by the tension of the previous night. They handed Bill Montclair the envelope. With trembling hands, Bill tore it open and froze at the contents: a photo showing him entering an unfamiliar house. Beneath it, a chilling note read:
> "Today is Thursday. I wonder if you'll make your usual weekly visit."
Panic instantly overtook Bill's face. His voice cracked, control evaporating into chaos:
"What… what does this mean? Leave me… leave me alone…"
In a violent rage, he swept the desk clean, papers and objects clattering to the floor in a deafening crash. Fear and fury blended, exposing the fragility of the man who ruled the Montclair family.
Outside, Ken spotted Yuri. In Ayato's body, he asked calmly:
"Where have you been?"
"At my uncle's estate in the countryside," Yuri replied, his gaze hard and unwavering.
Ken quickly filled him in on the situation—the revelations, the dangers that now threatened their family, and the unexpected moves of Enzo and his cousin.
---
Eloïse's Investigation
Meanwhile, Eloïse continued her pursuit of the truth, arriving at the ruins of the old Torne family house. Every step brought her closer to a past she had long believed buried. She pried open the gate, wary of every sound, when a massive silhouette materialized from the shadows.
"Stop," the man commanded, half his face obscured by darkness.
"Who… who are you?" Eloïse asked cautiously, her heart pounding.
"Enzo Torne. You seek answers, but first… go to this address. Only then will you have everything you're looking for."
A shiver ran down her spine as she realized that every choice could be fatal. Behind him, hidden in the darkness, Ken sensed it too: the entire scenario was playing out according to the cousin's design. Ezekiel orchestrated every movement, every reaction, like a master chess player, silently guiding each piece on the board.
---
A Glimpse into the Past
As Eloïse lingered by the crumbling walls, she noticed a weathered journal half-buried under debris. The cover, faded and brittle, read "Personal Records – 15 Years Ago." She flipped through the pages with trembling hands.
> "Tragic explosion: the Torne family devastated.
Maria Torne, Ben Torne, and their eldest son, Ezekiel Torne, presumed dead. Cause unknown."
Eloïse's eyes widened. The entries hinted at secrets long buried, pieces of a puzzle hidden from the world. Ezekiel… he was alive. And now, each revelation carried weight, connecting past tragedies to present dangers. Her mind raced with questions: what role did this mysterious Enzo play in all of this? And how far had the family gone to protect—or destroy—themselves?
---
Ken, still in Ayato's body, felt a tension tighten around his chest. Every heartbeat pulsed with a mix of rage, fear, and strategy. The pieces of the Montclair-Torne puzzle were falling into place. They were caught in a game far larger than any of them had anticipated, orchestrated with precision by forces they barely understood.
Enzo's inner voice echoed silently: Everything is going according to plan, cousin. They move exactly as expected. Now… we proceed to the serious matters.
The night stretched on, heavy with secrets, betrayals, and the grim anticipation of a war looming just beyond the horizon.