Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Chapter 51: The Masquerade (6)

The Masquerade

6 

"Two conditions. Non-negotiable. Then... we have a deal."

The memory drifted away like mist after rain. Thunder murmured low on the horizon while he strode toward the gate, Pride’s invisible presence trailing behind him.

It coiled in the corners of his thoughts.

Tell me, Blackwood... have I not exceeded your expectations?

Too early for celebration, he thought, his designer boot landing sharply on the cobblestones. David wasn’t there. Tardiness was hardly a quality he tolerated. Perhaps it was time to hire a chauffeur who grasped the rudiments of competence.

Pride chuckled darkly.

Your vigilance delights me. But soon enough, you shall witness the fruits of our agreement.

He merely smirked. At that moment a sleek black electric sedan glided to a halt. David spilled from the driver’s seat, uniform crumpled, hands scrambling for the rear door.

“My apologies, sir! I encountered unforeseen technical—”

“Save it.”

Machines existed to serve, not fail. First the market crash, now this. He missed the days of classic petrol engines; of course, brandishing one now would provoke the eco­zealots. He wasn’t in the mood for their whiny lectures about the dying polar bears or whatever else they worshipped these days. As if their opinions mattered.

David tried to recover. “The car will handle the ride just fine, even if the forecast predicts a tumultuous night ahead, sir.” 

He didn’t bother with a response. Sliding into the leather seat, he kept his eyes on the dark clouds ahead. Storms were approaching. External and otherwise.

"Where to, sir?” David asked from the front.

He reclined, lids half?lowered. “Home,” he replied, savouring the word. It bore the weight of inevitability. Pride had made promises, and he had never doubted their fulfilment. 

Everything would be his, for he was the rightful heir to the Blackwoods, with prized estates spread across every metropolis on the continent.

The cost was trivial. But the rewards… oh, the rewards. Power was power.

As the car pulled through the gardens, rain began to fall. He glanced back toward City Hall, now shrinking in the mirror. He smirked, thinking about those pawns.

Did those kids really think they had the upper hand? Adorable. If they were going to pretend at espionage, they should have chosen a subtler appearance and a persona less blindingly obvious. Especially that silver-haired girl, who stood out like a flare in a dark room, seemed born of another cosmos.

Did she truly think he hadn’t noticed her? 

They assumed Pride’s proximity to his hapless brother was happenstance, that fortune favoured them.

Children.

Every move had been planned. Pride didn’t improvise. It executed, like a grandmaster positioning pieces for checkmate while their opponent still learned the rules.

Pride had truly thought of everything.

Once past the main gates and the swarm of reporters, he removed his golden mask and poured himself a generous glass of Macallan 18, neat, relishing the burn.

This was power—the kind you could taste, and the kind that separated men like him from servants like David.

Noah shut his eyes briefly, savouring the satisfaction of near success as traffic began to build. Saturday nights in Alchymia were always the same. Legions of nobodies costumed as somebody.

Fingers tapped in rhythm with gentle strings sighing through the cabin. The strategy felt solid. Success felt close. But something didn’t add up.

If Pride was here, speaking to him, how was it manipulating Thomas?

A siren screamed outside. A wall of patrol cars tore past in the opposite lane, lights flashing, headed toward City Hall. The sedan lurched, whiskey sloshed across his knuckles.

"What is the meaning of this?" Noah demanded.

David, rubbing his neck, winced as torrents overwhelmed the wipers. “They do warn against trusting algorithms with rush hour, especially in weather like this.”

“Address me as Senator Blackwood.” Lightning crackled, casting dark lines over Noah’s face. “And do not imagine autopilot acceptable for a man in my position.”

“Of course not, Senator Blackwood." David risked a glance at the mirror, then dropped it. “At least we blame software, not human fallibility. Statistically it remains safer—”

“You’re fired. If you can’t outperform a machine, you’re useless.”

“Do you mean… now? I’d prefer not to leave you in the rain, sir—I mean, Senator.”

Noah’s jaw tensed. “Just drive.”

Rain drummed the roof while his mind returned to the sirens. They were heading toward City Hall. That could only mean one thing.

All games must come to an end, Pride murmured, catching the thought.

Ever the clueless Tommy. So easily manipulated. The legacy had never belonged to both of them; one heir, one name, his.

His smile widened as he watched the rain hammer the glass roof. It was a night not unlike this, a rain-soaked evening a month and a half prior when he believed he had lost everything. Pride had arrived in that bleak hour, an open door into power few dared imagine.

He’d set two conditions. First: reelection. His approval had crumbled, critics shredded his policies, and his fool of a brother had jumped into the race. No city holds room for two tigers.

Only one. And so, the second condition…

His smile slipped free.

“Good night, brother. Dream sweetly.”

Pride stirred in his mind. To Aeon Square. The harvest is ripe for the taking.

Noah leaned forward. “David, Aeon Square.”

The car pushed through traffic. At the square, billboards switched from ads to breaking news. The anchor’s voice rattled beneath the rain.

“Death,” Noah repeated under his breath. The word settled easily. 

Expected. 

Long overdue.

Pride purred, Your brother’s closing scene was… quite striking.

Screens showed a figure in a blood?spattered suit, face blurred by automatic filters. Noah needed no image to know.

So the Whitlock boy takes the fall? And it will never point back to me?

Pride chuckled.

Three elements define murder, Blackwood: motive, opportunity, witness. You possessed none; he possessed all. Human law is flawed, yet it works.

Noah rubbed his silver beard as he listened.

That unfortunate boy is but a tool in this game, tragically unaware of his utter disconnection from the circumstances of your brother’s death.

Noah grinned. Yet curiosity nagged at him. And motive?

Don’t look away. Thomas, ever-eager simpleton, has already shared this footage with the press, unwittingly scripting his own requiem.

The screen changed to reveal grainy footage of Adrian Van Nassau, a man with tousled brown hair and striking golden eyes. His voice flowed out, deep as the tides.

“Thomas Blackwood, your daughter was involved in an unfortunate incident. She's in a catatonic state. Take her home. Remember. Remember this. This is the truth, the only truth that matters."

Is this motive? Athena leveraged her fiancé to silence Thomas and shield her brother’s illegal mind tampering? Brilliant! 

Noah’s eyes shone with fresh respect for the web of deceit that Pride had crafted.

His paranoia served us better than he ever could. That hidden camera in his tie pin… a stroke of genius.

The Van Nassau family’s involvement means… Noah began, but Pride cut him off.

Their ivory tower sways. The scales of balance have tipped, and chaos will unfurl like a night rose.

Outside his window, pedestrians froze, transfixed by cascading headlines. Above, The Eye’s frenetic dance came to an abrupt halt, as if time itself paused.

The invisible smoke slithered across his skin. Can you sense the melody? The symphony of empires falling apart?

So this is your plan? To challenge House Van Nassau? Noah shot back mentally at Pride, fighting the cold grip of fear around his throat. House Van Nassau—those who claimed divine power.

What would it cost him? Fear and exhilaration tangled within him. Toppling House Van Nassau would be an unparalleled achievement, a legacy unclaimed by any Blackwood before. He wasn’t just a step above his brother; he was meant to claim the title of the best.

A sudden frigid brush grazed his nape. He glanced outside; nothing.

“What was that?” he muttered.

The car broke free from congestion onto the freeway. David glanced back. “Forgive me, Senator? Did you speak?”

Ignore it, Pride answered smoothly. My companion returns; a parallel contest, irrelevant to you.

Your companion?

Pride’s voice fractured, two tones speaking as one.

Not relevant to your role. Focus. We have an agreement to finalise.

I accept.

Noah answered before doubt could form, heart pounding with elation. Pride was a rare, exquisite ally, and together, they would see the very heavens bend and break.

A wise decision, Blackwood, Pride’s words curled like a smoky whisper. And as for the driver, rid us of that inconvenience when you’re home.

Understood, My Lord.

Noah leaned back. Pride’s essence pouring through him, filling each fiber with ancient darkness. A wave of euphoria surged through him, a feeling of becoming something… greater. He hadn’t been chosen by chance. 

He had been inevitable.

Inside that tide of shadow he felt it, a pulse of power, intoxicating and absolute.

Invincible.