The streetlights lining the sidewalks illuminated the kingdom's silent streets in a somber spectacle of light that stood in stark contrast to the pitiful screams coming from the depths.
I stood atop the clock tower, adjusting the sleeves of my new black tuxedo.
"The stage is set," I murmured, carefully placing my anti-magic mask over my face.
My body was gradually enveloped by the veil of night that hung over the kingdom, heralding my return to this world as the mysterious Phantom of the Opera.
***
The ashes of my enemies swirled around me in an upward vortex that disintegrated the walls of the room.
The screams of the maimed echoed everywhere: a guttural scream that was stifled the moment it made contact with my fist, causing their bodies to burst into thunderous explosions of smoke.
My instincts kicked in, and I dodged the lethal beam of light that left a faint scar on my face and a deep hole in the wall behind me.
I clenched my teeth, fusing Fire and Yang within me to reach his back at blinding speed, shattering one of his arms, which quickly turned to ash, just like the others.
"Speak up: where is that strange man?" I asked, sinking my claws into his other arm. "I can smell his scent in this base."
The man clenched his teeth to endure the stabbing pain on the left side of his body, his eyes bloodshot.
"We've already told you he's not here!" he shouted furiously. "Can't you see this belongs to the Church?! That bastard ambushed us, too!"
"Tch, you damn good-for-nothings," I said, pulverizing his body into tiny pieces that were lost among the debris scattered across the floor.
My claws ripped through the drawers that man had touched, leaving deep gouges that threatened to bring the whole place crashing down.
Damn it. As soon as I see him, I'll tear him to pieces until my claws are worn down; I'll drink his blood as I rip his head off, and I'll offer it to my master as a token of loyalty. It will be the greatest honor of your life for my master to hang your head on his shelf.
My footsteps halted as I sensed a presence I could never forget. My knees buckled for the first time in a long while, and I fell to the ground.
That scent, that sense of warmth radiating from his rhythmic footsteps… Master?
A man in a black suit and a dark mask on his face walked slowly toward me, plunging my heart into deep remorse with every step.
"M-Master, I…" The words choked in my throat, fearful that the Master would hate me for addressing him after what had happened.
The Master entered the room, examining it carefully, and shook his head in disappointment at the state of the stage; perhaps he thinks I've forgotten his profound teachings.
Master, please, punish me, but that look, that icy stare…
"Ah, it's you, Desislava," he said, sheathing the sword at his waist once more.
"Master, please punish me for having failed you!" I knelt before the Master, hoping to atone for my sins with my life.
The Master crossed his arms and walked slowly toward me, intensifying his icy gaze as he prepared to end my wretched life.
"The ashes of the past have been scattered into the river of time. All that remains is the fire of the present, which charts the path of the chosen ones," he said solemnly.
Ashes… Past… Present. The Master has forgiven us! I knew it: the Master would never abandon us like that!
I threw myself at the Master, unable to hold back any longer.
"Sniff, sniff! MASTERRRRR!"
***
I was about to say something else... Desislava, as always, lacks the patience needed to stick to the script; if it weren't for her tendency to act prematurely, her score would be one of the highest thanks to the special effects generated by her ability.
My gaze drifted toward a source of vitality that was growing stronger and stronger amid the rubble.
BOOOOM!
A mass of rotting flesh began to expand at high speed from that dusty spot, piercing through the rocky ceiling with a distorted screech that caused the supporting structures to collapse.
A huge hole opened up in the center of the city, sending a gigantic crack across the ground and leveling my beloved clock tower and a few nearby houses.
I stood on its shoulder… or whatever it was I was standing on, holding the destructive actress as I surveyed the landscape.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The city's barriers had been activated, containing the damage that threatened to bury everything in the fissures.
"Open your eyes wide, Desislava!" I said, setting the girl down on the rotten, foul-smelling flesh of the aberration. "Today the world will finally meet the enigmatic Phantom of the Opera!"
And, just like in any good play, the soldiers besieged us with perfect timing, bombarding the city center with a dazzling shower of colors.
The attacks were so weak that they evaporated upon contact with my suit; I couldn't say the same for the monster, which combined Water and Yang in "Fountain of Youth" to regenerate its limbs.
"Yin Squad, destroy its soul! Plant Squad, contain the damage within the perimeter! The rest of you, follow me!" ordered the captain, charging forward and leaving trails in his wake.
Those extras are ruining the fight scene.
I took two steps forward, vanishing amid the dizzying barrage of attacks aimed at my neck.
My figure reappeared in the venue's stage machinery tower.
The audience is on the edge of their seats; the main cast has taken the stage to deliver their magnificent performance! Let the curtain rise on the play!
My fingers moved at breakneck speed across the invisible keys that appeared before me.
"Got you!" shouted one of the soldiers, his massive fist just a few centimeters from my face.
I sharpened my senses with the element of lightning, turning the situation around in a fraction of a second; I had shifted my center of gravity 7 degrees to the right, counterattacking with my left leg.
It was a trap to distract me. Dozens of soldiers pounced on me the moment I launched my counterattack.
The first note boomed, freezing the hearts of those present just a few centimeters from my body. Crack, crack… the brittle sound echoed in the depths of the fog that had settled over the kingdom's capital.
"H-hey, look at that," said one of the guards, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.
From within the fog-shrouded field, thousands upon thousands of skeletons raised their weapons with a thunderous battle cry that dispersed the fog, revealing a countless host of beings that left the soldiers speechless: giants the size of buildings that made the ground tremble beneath their feet.
The flapping of the dragons' wings shaped the weather at will, filling the skies with powerful gales.
The captain of the soldiers watched the scene as adrenaline coursed through his sturdy body, holding his hands out in front of him, his trembling fingers betraying his anxiety.
"Don't worry, they're just illusions!" he clarified, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
Morale in the camp soared, as the weight of responsibility dissipated with just a few words. They raised their weapons with renewed determination, but… things don't always go as planned.
Knock, knock!
One of the soldiers tried to touch the corpses—so lifelike they seemed alive—to convince himself it wasn't just a magic trick, only to turn pale when he realized his bare hands weren't passing through the bodies; instead, he felt the cold of the motionless skeleton spreading between his fingers.
"C-Captain, are you sure it's fake?" he asked, taking a few steps back toward his platoon.
The captain calmly extended his arm, showing not a hint of doubt about the accuracy of his perception.
"I already told you it's an illusion!" he said as the palm of his hand passed right through the army without much difficulty.
My attention was focused on the gigantic monster with bulging skin, which Desislava was keeping at bay with hundreds of shock waves that sent chunks of flesh flying into the air, staining the walls of the buildings with a corrosive acid green.
I cracked my knuckles, setting the stage for the second phase of my dazzling debut.
"Tell me, my lady, how much longer do you plan to keep pretending to be possessed?"
Time seemed to have frozen in the midst of the thunderous battle, which had been at a stalemate for some time.
Desislava's fist halted midway, as if a bolt of lightning had violently pierced her mind. After a few more exchanges, the answer would become more than obvious to everyone present watching the battle.
A guttural sound emanated from the aberration before us, which gradually shrank until it reached the size of an adult, bringing us closer to the battle's climax in time with the music.
The final figure had revealed itself in a way that screamed "final boss." A woman with aristocratic features stood tall in the streets: her almond-shaped eyes stared intently at me, revealing faint glimmers of her crimson pupils that seemed to want to devour you with their gaze.
If we had to give her a name, it would be "Madame Crimson," the lady of the vampires, due to the predominant reddish hue of her long, straight hair and her dress dyed the purest red, with a metallic scent emanating from her long nails, as if she could sink them into your neck and sip your life force with her sharp fangs.
"I hope you know how to dance, my lady," I warned her, feeling a tingling in my hands as I played the second note of the musical.
Madame Crimson began to walk slowly toward me, resting on solid pillars of air at her feet.
I signaled to Desislava, who was about to intervene. It would be a shame to ruin such an exceptional, once-in-a-lifetime scene.
I began to mimic her movements, positioning myself a few meters high in the air while the wind carried the steady footsteps of the army of monsters into the distance; they raised their weapons with conviction as they contemplated the inevitable confrontation.
***
I was standing at the edge of the translucent barrier, completely captivated by my Lord's magnificent presentation.
Beside me, hundreds of girls were locked in intense combat to ensure that nothing would interrupt my Lord's debut before the world.
When I look back, I still feel a lump in my throat as I recall how I ruined the elaborate plan my Lord had been preparing for so long. I even went so far as to recruit the girls the cult was holding in the torture chambers, watching their companions disappear one by one to the sound of agonized screams.
We confiscated the funds obtained from their facilities and even infiltrated spies into the other kingdoms, hoping to uncover any clue that might lead us to that man. But what I just heard a few moments ago has made me wonder if all of this was nothing more than a distant dream and if the mysterious man is nothing more than a figment of my imagination.
Standing before me, Eira was holding Desislava by the neck, unable to believe what had just been said.
"Desislava, stop joking! Why would our master forgive us after we committed such a sin?" she shouted, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to maintain a stoic expression.
"It's true! The Master said that's all in the past and that he's forgiven us!" Desislava retorted.
"T-the Master… the Master," she said, quickly putting on her mask, tears rolling down her cheeks as she did her best to maintain eye contact.
I fixed my gaze on Desislava, studying her closely.
Desislava may be clumsy and impulsive, and her behavior during missions may be quite questionable, but Desislava never lies; no, rather, she doesn't know how to lie without looking away… So, my lord…
Debris continued to fall from the sky in an endless succession of sharp thuds that sent clouds of dust billowing everywhere.
"No matter what happens, no one is to intervene!" I ordered, lunging forward to take out anyone who crossed the line.