Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Chapter 42: Eye on the Horizon

Eye on the Horizon

Dmitri Romanov stood at the window of his eighty-eighth-floor penthouse, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the cityscape of Alchymia. Afternoon light bounced off the Eye.

The Eye didn’t blink. It never did.

“Ares Van Nassau,” he muttered. “Always watching. Always judging, much like this damn predicament he's forced me to endure."

The "predicament" being his current, less than ideal, sleeping arrangement. A colossal, ever-present eye in the sky, seemingly watching, scrutinising, analysing every move he made – a not-so-subtle reminder from the Alchymian Chief Minister that their time was running out.

"Million-dollar view,” Dmitri said to no one. “Right. Front-row seat to my own incompetence.”

Professor Indigo Crane, the Council's Head of Research, continued to burn daylight dissecting samples from the knight. Blood analysis, genetic sequencing, theory after theory. 

All pointing to one conclusion: the Eye and the purple smoke shared an origin. Interdimensional. Possibly ancient. Definitely unstable.

As such, the Council had gambled heavily on this volatile knight, even fabricating a false reality where he remained unaware of the Eye's existence.

And it must stay this way. 

Should the knight discover the truth and somehow return home, the Council's covert interdimensional research could be jeopardised, and collapsed.

Meanwhile, Dmitri was left to deal with the consequences of his own reckless decision. It had been his plan to destroy the Eye. A miscalculation. It had unleashed something older and stronger than they anticipated.

Another black stain on his leadership. Just as Ares had planned, the ruthless snake had exploited this situation to the fullest. Dmitri was well aware that Ares had been grooming his second eldest son, Adrian Van Nassau, for Dmitri’s position. He could not afford any more mistakes.

Dread filled him as the Eye’s gaze darted towards him. Unable to bear the scrutiny any longer, he turned away from the window. Then he slammed his fist down. The mahogany desk split. His laptop fell, along with a stack of false sighting reports.

“Damn you, Ares.”

The door burst open. Lukas Schmidt stepped in, out of breath, brown hair a mess.

“Sir. We’ve got a situation.”

"Report." 

Lukas crossed to the tea table and grabbed the remote. The holographic screen flared to life. After a few taps, he found the National News broadcast.

“—near Blackwood’s latest residential development,” the anchor was saying. “We go live to our correspondent on the scene.”

The feed cut to a construction site. A bearded man in a stained vest leaned toward the mic, his speech slurred.

“Yeah, mate, thought it was some kinda purple chemical spill at first, right? But then it started swirling, like, whooshing around—like it was alive or something…”

A few more shaky eyewitness accounts followed, then the broadcast cut to a packed press conference.

Thomas Blackwood stood at a podium, flanked by aides, while reporters shouted over each other.

“Sir Blackwood, is it true the smoke was found on your property?”

“Do you deny a link between this and your daughter’s missing friends?”

“What’s your response to the cover-up allegations?”

Blackwood raised a hand. “If there is smoke on my site, I’ll investigate it personally. My daughter’s safety, and the safety of her friends, comes first. This is no time for rumours or politics. This is a time for answers.”

Lukas turned off the screen. Dmitri sat back slowly, his scar pulsing under the skin.

“Has he contacted the Council?”

“Yes, sir. His secretary called. He wants… field support.”

"Well-played, Blackwood," Dmitri chuckled dryly. "A public declaration of a personal investigation. Not a request for help, but an ultimatum. Now we’re on the record.”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What about the polls?”

Lukas checked his phone. “His popularity’s taken a hit. Fringe forums are spinning wild theories. He’s trending above the latest superhero release, but official numbers haven’t updated yet.”

Dmitri’s eyes narrowed. “What about the betting markets? They tend to react faster.”

Lukas was already scrolling. “More volatile. Odds shift every time he speaks. He's a media darling now. Divisive, but magnetic."

Dmitri leaned back, steepling his fingers. “If the smoke creature really is aligned with him, like Adrian suspects, why the sudden eagerness to hunt it down? Why go public? Unless… this is all part of a longer game.”

"Your orders, sir?"

"Pull together a field team. Our best,” Dmitri ordered. “And you’re going with them. Shadow Blackwood. Learn everything.”

His voice lowered. “Let’s hope this isn’t just smoke and mirrors.”

“Yes, sir.” Lukas nodded and left.

Dmitri didn’t move.

He didn’t need to turn. He could feel it behind him.

The Eye. 

Watching.  

Unblinking.  

Always watching.

Even St. Kelvin’s wasn’t immune to high-stakes negotiations. Here, it came in the form of emotional blackmail delivered with hugs.

Eydis, Queen of Shadows, found herself ambushed. The culprits: Cleo and Anthony.

"Oh sweetie!"

They pulled her into a double embrace. Her fingers twitched, fighting the urge to fling them into the stratosphere. Or just muting them. Forever would be ideal. 

They wailed in unison. Goosebumps rose across her arms.

Seriously, did someone announce her reincarnation?

After what felt like several millennia, they let go. Cleo’s voice wobbled. “You’ve ignored our invitations for three years. We’ve missed you so much!" 

Then she slapped her on the backside. Of course she did. Static pulsed through Eydis’s fingers.

‘Deep breaths, Your Majesty. Remember the plan,’ Envy teased.

‘Woof, woof!’ Cerberus agreed.

Anthony, still committed to the act, clapped a heavy hand on her shoulder. “We were worried about you skipping that doctor’s checkup. Glad you’re finally taking care of yourself.”

Eydis sighed, ”Relax, work’s been intense lately. No time for anything else, unfortunately."

If she made it back to her realm in one piece, her first order of business would be to obliterate those "gods" everyone kept worshipping. Perhaps she'd start with The Sacred Order of the Silver-Obsessed and Stoically Serious (a name she totally didn't just make up), then Damien, then the Sa—

Something twisted in her chest.

Eydis blinked, taken aback. Odd.

Anyway, this Plan B was already shaping up to be a disaster. Which was precisely why it was a Plan B to begin with. And she needed to survive a four-hour car ride.

With them. 

In traffic.

‘Oh mon Dieu!’ she groaned silently, channelling Colette.

Why so long, you ask? Traffic, the bane of modern existence. Sure, St. Kelvin’s wasn't exactly on the other side of the globe from the city centre, but as you approached civilization, a five-kilometer stretch could become an odyssey of honking, and slow decay of the soul.

Or so Natalia had informed her.

Cleo and Anthony lived in one of those concrete apartment clusters people called homes. Anthony was a tradie, which translated to “construction worker.” He was involved in the city's never-ending roadwork projects, while Cleo was an accountant who mainly "worked from home," whatever that meant.

Ever since that little "incident" with Tiffany (ah, memories), the Blackwoods had been paying for Eydis's medical checkups, hoping to avoid any legal unpleasantness. But since the girl was a minor, the charges, if any, would be the equivalent of a parking ticket.

So, Cleo and Anthony reluctantly accepted their funding for Eydis's perpetually postponed checkups.

You see, she was simply far too busy to waste her precious weekends in the city, as St. Kelvin’s was a veritable magnet for her Sins. But not anymore. The good news: she had a doctor’s note and a 1.5-day leave from school. The better news: she was going to crash the Alchymia gala herself since Theo had the nerve to play dumb.

“There’s no one better than Dr. Le Bleu,” Anthony said, holding the door open. “Your appointment’s at ten tomorrow. She isn't just any medical doctor."

"But a Gifted doctor!" Cleo clapped her hands together, hopping into the front seat. "The school doctor is nothing compared to her. As much as I despise those Blackwoods, I have to admit they pulled some strings to get you the best of the best, sweetie."

Eydis smirked, glancing at her phone screen, where an open tab revealed the impressive credentials of Dr. Melissa Le Bleu. Renowned, Elite, and ‘gifted’ with healing powers. 

The Queen had handpicked her for this very reason. ‘You’re about to become my accomplice, Doctor,’ she thought.

As their white electric car merged onto the freeway, Cleo shouted suddenly, "Ha! Classic!"

Eydis looked up from her phone, her smile evaporating as Cleo enthusiastically stabbing the dashboard touchscreen.

The speakers immediately exploded with the most cringe-inducing love song one could find... ever... in any realm.

Eydis's internal eye roll was so powerful it nearly tore a hole in the fabric of space, zapping her two daydreaming familiars in her mindscape back to reality, unwilling participants in this auditory torture.

‘If only Sloth were here to teleport us,’ she thought grimly.

Envy hissed, ‘Your Majesty, I'm starting to think Plan B was the optimistic one. Any chance we can rewind and try Plan A again?’ 

‘Arf,’ said Cerberus.

Eydis pressed her fingers to her temples.

This was going to be a long, looooong ride.