Being a villain wasn’t easy. It was a constant game of survival, one where Draco teetered between hunter and prey. Some days, he prowled the shadows with confidence, while on others, he felt like he was the one being stalked. It all depended on the day and on Victor’s mood. Draco’s perspective had shifted since joining The Phantoms. Heroes preached justice and peace, but their ideals seemed like hollow lies to him now. All he saw was spite, corruption, and the brutal reality that only ruthlessness could truly change the world.

  Violence was the key to get things done, whether it be simple tasks or world shattering changes. Victor had promised him justice for his first team, and Draco had taken the bait. The promise of revenge and power had been too tempting to resist. Victor had delivered on that promise, in a way, by enhancing the dragon remnant marking etched into Draco’s right arm.

  “Pain is the key to power,” Victor had said, his voice calm yet laced with something darker.

  Draco had believed him, at least, at first. But when Victor began tattooing the mark, repeatedly, with a searing liquid that burned like molten fire, doubt had crept in. The pain was unbearable. Strapped to the cold steel table, Draco had thrashed and screamed as the pain wracked his body, clawing at his sanity. Eventually, the torment became too much, and darkness overtook him.

  When he awoke, everything felt different. His entire body buzzed with an unfamiliar, electric energy, as though power itself now coursed through his veins. His vision sharpened, and when he caught his reflection, his eyes stared back at him; one glowing blue, the other burning red.

  Victor had stood over him, a faint, triumphant smile on his lips. “You’ve been reborn,” he said, his tone as smooth as silk.

  Draco had stared at his dragon-marked arm, now vivid and alive with a strange sense of energy. His body was stronger, faster, and more attuned to the remnants of his power than ever before. But in the back of his mind, a quiet question lingered: Had he truly been reborn, or had he been remade into something else entirely?

  “Come on Zahra, kick his ass!” Sora shouted, shaking Draco from his thoughts to see Zahra trying to pin Fallacy down but his electricity kept her at bay. Draco should cheer for Fallacy, but he wasn’t very interested in the fight. He knew who would win because they’d done this plenty of times. Zahra had yet to beat Fallacy. The neon blue lightning shot around bouncing from the walls barely missing Zahra. She just chucked her ax at him but he glitched away before reappearing with a deranged smile.

  She huffed. “Alright I give, it's not like we really need practice.” She looked to where Draco and Sora sat. “Draco can take my spot.”

  “Excuse me?” Draco said, not thrilled to be thrown in the ring. Sure, he still needed practice harnessing his power, but he didn’t like Fallacy all that much although Victor could be much worse. Sora shoved his shoulder.

  “Come on, get in there.” She said, trying to offer an encouraging smile, but he knew she just liked watching people get hurt. Specifically, him and he reluctantly stood and walked to stand before Fallacy. Electric blue eyes stared at him and Fallacy glitched before stabilizing again. Draco didn’t understand what Fallacy was, but it seemed he could only spend so much time out in the real world before returning to his host, Nautilus.

  “We can work on your remnant marking, Victor thinks it should be ready?” Fallacy said but he didn’t exactly know what he was talking about. Draco knew it was something that Victor perched about saying it was a new advancement he made, and Draco had been an experiment in a way. He had to prove to Victor he could handle the power if he could figure out how to unlock it.

  A sharp, reverberating bang echoed through the base, loud enough to make Draco flinch. He still wasn’t used to Victor’s dramatic, rough entrances. The sound bounced off the cold metal walls, filling the air with heavy tension. The atmosphere shifted, thickening like a storm about to break. It was the unmistakable signal that Victor had returned from the Full Moon Festival. But something was off as he heard Victor's snarls.

  Draco glanced around. Fallacy leaned lazily against the wall, his expression utterly unbothered, while Zahra rubbed her temples and sighed, the weariness in her posture betraying her frustration.

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  “I’ll go check on him,” Zahra muttered, straightening and walking off toward Victor’s chambers without waiting for a response. Draco barely had a chance to process the tension when Fallacy’s sharp voice snapped him back to the present.

  “Let's get this over with.”

  Draco whipped out his crossbow firing and this time Fallacy didn’t use his lighting and simply dodged the projectile. His eyes flicked down to his right arm, the dragon remnant marking etched into his flesh. He clenched his fist, focusing on the searing emotions that fueled its power.

  The memories of when he used to be in The Elemental Forces flashed through his mind. Back then, he’d had a decent life, an ordinary one filled with fellowship and purpose. He wasn’t powerful, but he had a team, a family. Harper and Nicholas had been his closest friends, their laughter and loyalty grounding him even when he doubted himself. And Kashi... Kashi had been the leader who always seemed to have the answers.

  Until he didn’t.

  Draco’s heart twisted, the old pain rising like a tidal wave. He hadn’t been strong enough to protect them. Harper and Nicholas were dead because of his uselessness, and Kashi, well, what kind of leader let his team die? Bitterness churned in his gut. Kashi’s face swam to the forefront of his mind, and the shame and fury collided in a storm of self-loathing. Kashi would fall by Draco’s hand.

  He felt it, the way the remnant marking began to pulse, glowing faintly at first, then brightening into a vivid, otherworldly purple. The sensation spread through his arm like fire, crackling with dormant energy finally waking.

  Draco exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Fallacy watched him as he eyed the mark with interest.

  “About time.” He spoke.

  Draco planted his feet firmly, gritting his teeth as he focused on the energy coursing through him. His breathing slowed, each inhale dragging the power further to the surface. The dragon remnant wasn’t just a mark, it was alive, a fragment of something ancient and untamed. His eyes flickered to Fallacy who waited for his move. Draco threw his hand out the energy snapping all over taking the shape of a lung dragon and Fallacy braced against the power. Unfortunately, Draco couldn’t hold it for long as it faltered, growing weak before it disappeared.

  “Interesting.” Fallacy said, lowering his arms and staring at Draco’s remnant marking.

  “It's currently not that useful but in time it’ll be worth it.” Draco said, hoping to get stronger. He would prove his worth to the team. Sora stayed silent before huffing and leaving the room.

  “Draco.” Victor’s voice snarled in his head causing him to flinch. “Come to my lab now.”

  Fallacy seemed to notice before giving him an apologetic look. “Good luck with him.” Draco watched him glitch out of the room before slowly making his way down the dimly lit halls. He stood in front of the obsidian black doors and gave a soft knock trying to be cautious of any loud noises that might set Victor off. The doors opened and a grey shadow yanked him in. It seemed Victor was in a terrible mood. Zahra stood on his right side, her face unreadable.

  Victor lounged in his chair, seemingly slight, almost delicate. His frame, lean and narrow, suggested a fragility that was utterly deceptive. His demonic features, subtly etched into his sharp, angular face, hinted at a hidden strength, but it was the sheer presence that filled the room, a palpable weight that pressed down on Draco. His eyes, usually a deep, purple, now held a faint, crimson undertone, and the tips of his fingers, resting lightly on the chair's armrest, were subtly elongated, ending in points as sharp as obsidian.

  The barely visible horns, pushing against the temples of his head, were a final, chilling confirmation of the power he held, a power that belied his deceptively frail appearance. His tail flicked casually. It was as if the air itself crackled with Victor’s barely contained power, a silent promise of devastating force. The contrast between Victor’s seemingly fragile form and the raw, untamed energy he exuded was both unsettling and terrifying.

  “Good, I have an important job for you,” Victor said calmly and motioned for him to sit.

  Draco hesitated, his eyes flicking to the chair. He knew what it represented, how easily it could become a trap, how effortlessly it could shift from a place of conversation to one of punishment. His throat tightened, but he told himself there was no reason for Victor to be angry with him. At least, none that he could think of. Forcing himself to move, he sat stiffly, his back straight and his hands gripping the edge of the armrests.

  If Victor noticed his unease, he gave no indication. His violet eyes remained locked on Draco, calculating, cold.

  “Now then, your task is simple: find out whose side Enigma is on and what he was doing in my lab.” Victor said in a stained voice, his claws sinking deep in the desk. Draco could try but Enigma was rarely seen.

  “I’ll do my best,” Draco managed, his voice steady enough to mask his doubt.

  Victor’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, the air in the room thick with tension. Then he leaned back slightly, his claws withdrawing from the desk as though satisfied with the damage they had already done. “Good,” he said with a faint smirk, his fangs just visible. “Because failure is not an option.” Draco felt like prey once more.