The city woke up angry.
Not screaming, not panicking—but alert in the way predators became alert when something unfamiliar entered their territory.
By 8:06 a.m., Victor Hale's name was trending.
Not at the top. Not yet. But climbing. Steadily. Relentlessly.
Adrian watched it happen from a borrowed workspace inside the same anonymous building he'd slept in overnight. A folding chair. A borrowed blanket. Coffee that tasted like regret.
He felt oddly detached.
Like he was watching weather roll in.
"System," he murmured. "Status."
The interface shimmered into existence, sharper than before.
[Authority Points: 27]
[Rank: Emerging Threat]
Adrian blinked. "That's new."
[Escalation has altered external perception.]
"So I'm officially dangerous now."
[Yes.]
Adrian exhaled slowly.
On the screen, articles multiplied.
Anonymous Leak Raises Questions About Arbitration Practices at Major Law Firm
Former Hale & Partners Associates Speak Out
Legal Experts Divided on Allegations—But Patterns Raise Eyebrows
No accusations.
No convictions.
Just exposure.
Victor Hale's greatest weakness.
Victor watched the same headlines from his office, jacket discarded, tie loosened. His assistant stood rigid across the desk, tablet clutched in both hands.
"Containment?" Victor asked.
The assistant swallowed. "Difficult. The material is structured. Cross-referenced. Journalists aren't dismissing it."
"Then redirect," Victor snapped. "Attack the source."
"We don't have a confirmed identity."
Victor slammed his hand against the desk.
"Then fabricate one."
Silence followed.
The assistant hesitated. "Sir… there are internal concerns."
Victor looked up sharply.
"About what?"
"About you."
The words landed harder than Victor expected.
He straightened slowly. "Clarify."
"There are partners asking questions. Quietly. About risk exposure."
Victor stared at the assistant, then laughed.
Short. Cold.
"They're afraid," he said. "Good. Fear keeps people loyal."
But even as he said it, he felt something slipping.
Control didn't vanish all at once.
It eroded.
Adrian received the message at 10:14 a.m.
A journalist. Verified. Careful wording.
I'd like to speak. Off the record. Your discretion will be respected.
Adrian stared at the screen.
"System," he said. "Advice?"
[Engagement increases Authority.]
[Exposure increases counterpressure.]
"So it's a trade."
[All Authority is.]
Adrian leaned back and closed his eyes briefly.
The man he used to be would have declined. Stayed hidden. Preserved plausible deniability.
That man was already gone.
He typed a reply.
One condition. No identity disclosure. Ever.
The response came almost instantly.
Agreed.
The interview happened in fragments.
Not voice.
Not video.
Text.
Questions designed to probe intent without revealing it.
Why now?
What outcome are you seeking?
Do you believe Hale & Partners acted illegally?
Adrian answered carefully.
I believe power protects itself until it's forced into the light.
I'm not seeking justice. I'm seeking consequence.
Legality is a shield. Not a measure of harm.
There was a long pause before the final reply.
You understand this ends any chance of anonymity.
Adrian stared at the words.
Then typed.
I understand it ends neutrality.
Victor's mistake happened at noon.
A press statement.
Carefully worded. Legally sound. Cold.
Hale & Partners categorically denies any wrongdoing. Anonymous allegations are often driven by disgruntled individuals seeking relevance. We trust the appropriate authorities to resolve this matter.
Victor read it twice and approved it.
It was flawless.
And it was wrong.
Adrian watched the backlash roll in.
Legal analysts dissected the tone. Social media seized on the phrase disgruntled individuals. Former associates responded—not angrily, but pointedly.
Funny how many of us were "disgruntled" right after questioning settlements.
The narrative shifted.
Not from Is this true?
To Why are there so many of them?
Adrian felt it then.
A pressure behind his eyes. A tightening in the air.
The interface flared violently.
[Authority surge detected.]
[New Ability Available.]
A new panel unfolded.
[Skill: Narrative Displacement (Active)]
[Effect: You may redirect public focus from one target to another by exposing comparative leverage.]
[Cost: Authority Points]
Adrian's breath caught.
"That's… dangerous."
[Yes.]
"So I can ruin someone else to protect myself."
[Or ruin someone to accelerate collapse.]
Adrian stared at the screen.
Victor Hale had tried to control the story.
The system had given Adrian the ability to rewrite it.
Victor felt it before he saw it.
His phone began vibrating nonstop. Messages piling up faster than he could read them.
A senior partner.
A regulator.
A client asking uncomfortable questions.
Then the call he'd been dreading.
"Victor," the voice said quietly. "We need to talk about succession."
Victor's blood ran cold.
"Succession?" he repeated.
"There's concern," the voice continued. "Public concern. If this escalates—"
"It already has," Victor snapped.
Silence.
Then: "Which is why we're preparing."
The line went dead.
Victor stood very still.
Succession.
They were already imagining the firm without him.
Adrian stood by the window, watching the city react to a story he had set in motion.
He felt no triumph.
Just inevitability.
"System," he asked quietly, "what happens if I use Narrative Displacement on Victor?"
[Outcome: Accelerated collapse.]
"And if I don't?"
[Victor will attempt to redirect blame toward you.]
Adrian closed his eyes.
The city didn't care who was right.
Only who remained standing.
He opened his eyes and smiled faintly.
"Then let's see who blinks first."
The interface pulsed.
Waiting.