CHAPTER:- 2

INT. THE WAR ROOM – 7:00 AM

A dim golden hue filtered through the obsidian-tinted glass walls, painting the conference room in shades of dusk despite the early hour. The air was thick — not just with cigar smoke and static, but tension. Heavy. Unspoken.

The long oval table stretched through the center of the war room like a serpent, lined with men and women in suits darker than sin. Silent, nervous chatter buzzed as they prepared to finalize the operation against Robbert Cruise.

But at the head of the room — where power was meant to sit — the throne stood empty.

Gold. Elevated. Untouched.

It was less a chair and more a statement: this world has only one king.

Then—

The door creaked open.

Silence fell like glass shattering. Every head turned.

And he walked in.

ORION CARLON.

Black silk suit. Collar sharp. No tie — just enough rebellion to make him dangerous. His tall frame glided across the floor like a shadow made flesh, each step deliberate, quiet, lethal. His presence soaked the room in tension, the temperature dropping and spiking all at once.

The women dared to breathe — barely.

The men dared to blink — carefully.

He didn’t glance at anyone. Didn’t need to.

Orion moved straight to the throne and sat down with the weight of an empire. The gold against his dark suit made him look otherworldly — like a devil who had killed heaven and claimed its seat.

Rex stepped forward, bowing slightly, offering a black folder.

“Robbert Cruise — latest intelligence, boss.”

Orion took the file with gloved fingers, flipping it open. His eyes flicked across the contents — cold, unreadable. He shut it.

“Found the girl?” he asked, voice like gravel soaked in honey — beautiful, and dangerous to swallow.

Rex froze. Swallowed.

“N-no, boss. Not yet…”

The air snapped.

Orion’s jaw tightened. His eyes — molten obsidian — flared.

Then he stood. Slow. Controlled.

“You’re all fucking useless.”

His voice exploded through the room, cold rage ripping the calm like a blade across flesh.

“Time is slipping through our fingers, and you're all sitting here, talking. Failing. I said I need a girl. A flame. A weapon. And you bring me nothing but excuses?”

Chairs shifted. Eyes lowered. No one dared speak.

Until—

RIN.

He stood up slowly. Head bowed. One hand fisted over his chest in respect.

“Boss… forgive the interruption,” Rin said, voice low. “But I know someone.”

The tension shifted — sharpened. All eyes turned to him.

Orion narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

Rin stepped forward. Calm. Controlled.

“Her name is Rosen ryan,” he said. “My stepsister.”

Gasps rippled through the room like a wave. Orion raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“She doesn’t know who I am. What I do. What any of this is. She’s pure. Untouched.”

He pulled out a photo and placed it on the table.

It slid across the polished surface and stopped in front of orion

She was light.

A girl in a white dress — mid-laugh, her eyes closed, dancing barefoot in the grass. There was something celestial in her expression — something that didn’t belong in this world of smoke and gunmetal.

“She loves to dance,” Rin continued. “That’s all she’s ever wanted. Tell her it’s a stage. A performance. She’ll say yes.”

Orion didn’t blink.

“And if she finds out the truth?” he asked, voice soft — too soft.

Rin didn’t hesitate.

“Then she dies. Simple. Who cares?”

A long silence.

Then, slowly, something dangerous curled at the edge of Orion’s lips. A smirk — dark, slow, inevitable.

“Bring her to me,” he said. “Tonight.”

Gasps again. This was new. Orion — the man who despised distractions — never requested a woman. Never. Until now.

“Y-yes, boss,” Rin said, bowing lower.

Orion’s eyes lingered on the photo as he whispered,

“Let’s see how an angel survives among demons.”

He waved a hand.

“Meeting’s over. Get out.”

Chairs scraped as people rushed to obey. One by one, they filed out — all except Orion, who stayed seated, alone in the war room, the photo still in front of him.

He stared at it. Minutes passed. Hours blurred.

The room was quiet.

Then — something foreign touched his face.

A smile.

Soft. Curious. Almost... warm.

He caught himself. Face hardened. But not before the thought slid in:

How can someone so innocent exist in a world like mine?

And yet, something deeper, darker answered inside him:

She was made for me to destroy — or protect. I haven’t decided yet.

He picked up the photo one last time, and his voice was a whisper, too low for the gods to hear:

“Tonight… let’s meet, little flame.”

________________CHAPTER.2 ENDS_______________