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  retched his tired arms above his head and looked ahead. He felt exhausted. It had been 20 years since he had escaped with the Little Boss, ever since Kingpin's men had stormed Principe Mansion and massacred everyone. He always felt the gnawing grip of survivuilt, a weight he carried with him every day. His job was to protect the Little Boss, and he had dohat, but at what cost? The images of that night haunted him, repying like a relentless nightmare.

  The old butler could still hear the screams, the guhe sound of flesh meetial. The smell of blood and smoke filled his nostrils, as vivid now as it was then. He remembered clutg the infao his chest, running through secret passageways, his heart pounding with fear aermination. Nigel had sworn an oath to the Principe family, an oath of loyalty and prote. That night, he had failed everyone except the Little Boss.

  "Survivuilt," they called it. Nigel khe term well, but uanding it did nothing to alleviate the pain. He had watched Nero grow, transf from a helpless baby into a formidable young man. Nero, with his pierg gaze and unwavering resolve, reminded Nigel daily of the lives lost, the promises broken. He saw glimpses of Nero's father in him – the same iy, the same unyielding spirit. It was both a fort and a torment.

  Sitting in the dim light of his study, Nigel rubbed his temples, trying to ease the tension that had settled there. His mind wao the ret events, the incredible revetions about Nero's newfound powers, the Family System, and the bizarre yet exhirating enter with Nyx, now a se car with a vibrant personality. These developments were almost too much for the old butler to prehend, yet they brought a spark of hope, a sense of purpose.

  He thought about the rings, the roles they had distributed among Nero's friends. Eae represented a piece of the puzzle, a part of the pn to recim their legaigel was now the Cloud Guardian, a role that suited his shadowy past and his vast work of tacts. He had already begun reag out to his old es, weaving a web of information and influehat would support Nero's ambitions.

  Nigel sighed, his gaze drifting to the photograph on his desk. It was of the Principe family, taken just a few days before the massacre. They all looked so happy, so unaware of the doom that was about to befall them. He traced a finger over their faces, lingering on Nero's father. "I promise you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I will see your son recim what is rightfully his. I will help him avenge our family. I will not fail him as I failed you."

  A kno the door pulled Nigel from his reverie. He quickly posed himself, wiping away a tear. "e in," he called, his voice steady once more.

  A young maered, looking at Nigel's old face with a mixture of reverend . This young man was Marco, a poor soul Nigel had saved years ago from the clutches of a street gang. Loyal to him, Marco had bee one of Nigel's most trusted operatives. Anthony wasn't the only kid he saved over the years. He had pced Anthony near Nero because both were of the same age, and sedly, he saw fire in Anthony, a fire he knew would burn together with Nero's. Looking at the ring on his finger, Nigel chuckled softly; fire seemed apt now that he thought about their newfound abilities.

  "Marco," Nigel greeted, his voice warm despite the wearihat lingered. "What is the result?"

  "They are on their way to meet you," Marco replied promptly, his tone respectful yet tinged with excitement. "I made tact with the old guard, just as you instructed. They were skeptical at first, but when they heard your hey agreed to a meeting. They still remember the old days, and they trust you."

  Nigel nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. "Good work, Marco. Thank you."

  Marco hesitated for a moment, studying Nigel's face. "Are you alright, sir? You look...tired."

  A wry smile tugged at Nigel's lips. "I am tired, Marco. It's been a long journey, and there's still much to do. But seeing you and the others stepping up gives me hope. We have a ake things right."

  Marco's eyes shoh determination. "We will make things right, sir. For the Principe family, and for everyone who believes in what they stood for."

  Nigel reached out and csped Marco's shoulder. "Your loyalty means more to me than you know. Together, we'll rebuild what was lost and avehose who were taken from us."

  Just then, another knock echoed through the study. Marco stepped aside, allowing two figures to ehe first was an older man with a stern expression, his hair graying at the temples—a former ally from the days of the Principe family's power. Beside him stood a younger woman, her eyes sharp and assessing, a refle of her father's guarded nature.

  "Nigel," the older maed, his voice gruff but familiar. "It's been a long time."

  "It has, Robert," Nigel replied, approag the figure for a handshake.

  Robert's gaze flicked to Marco, then back to Nigel. "Your message was...ued. But if what you say is true, then you have our support."

  The woman was more skeptical. She was Robert's daughter, having never seen the old Principe family or uood what their ruly stood for. Robert still remembered, his loyalty unwavering even after all these years. He wanted his daughter to i his legad establish a bond with the Principe Family, but she was ceited due to the small successes she had achieved over the years.

  Nigel didn't care. He had long ago learhat some opportunities came for a very small window of time. If you miss it, a lifetime ret couldn't bring it back. He uood Robert's iion, and for the sake of their old friendship and Robert's help, Nigel would assist her, but only if she grasped it.

  Nigel regarded the two newers, his sharp eyes assessing them. Robert stood tall, his presenandie the wearihat lined his face. His daughter, however, exuded an air of defiand skepticism, her arms crossed over her chest as she gnced around the study with an appraising eye.

  "Thank you for ing, Robert," Nigel said, extending a hand. Rrasped it firmly, a hint of a smile pying on his lips.

  "It's good to see you, Nigel," Robert replied, his voice carrying the weight of years gone by. "This is my daughter, Janice. She's been handling some of our operations."

  uro Janice, a polite nod. "Wele, Janice. I appreciate you taking the time to e here."

  Janice's gaze ierg, her expression guarded. "My father speaks highly of you, Mr. Montgomery. But five me if I need more than words to be vinced."

  Nigel's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Skepticism is healthy, Janice. Especially in our line of work. But as speak louder than words, and I io show you the value of this alliance."

  Robert cleared his throat, sensing the tension. "Nigel, we've been out of the game for a while. What exactly are you pnning these days?"

  Nigel leaned ba his chair, sidering his words carefully. "I'm w on rebuilding some old es, strengthening the work. The old guard may have scattered, but the loyalty remains. It's about ying the groundwork, ensuring we have the support we need wheime es."

  Janice's skepticism didn't waver. "And what exactly are you hoping to achieve with this... groundwork?"

  Nigel met her gaze evenly. "Security and stability. For now, it's about ensuring we have allies we trust, people who remember the old ways and are willing to stand by us."

  Robert pced a hand on his daughter's shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "Janice, I know this is a lot to ask. But Nigel has never led us astray before. If he says he has a pn, I believe him."

  Janice's eyes flicked between her father and he flict evident in her expression. She wao believe, but years of hard-earned success had made her wary of grand promises.

  "Alright," she said finally, her voice steady. "I'm willing to listen. But I o see results. I o know that this isn't just a pipe dream."

  Nigel smiled but didn't ahis was a call to repay Robert for all his help over the years. If Janice could ge Robert's decision or ruin his boss's operation, Nigel would remove them from the pn. It wasn't a big loss. Robert too was aware of this, so he pced a hand on Janice's shoulder and said, "This is enough."

  Janice's eyes darted to her father, her expression a mixture of frustration and fusion. She had grown aced to questioning everything, a trait that had served her well in their line of work. But Robert's faith in Nigel was unshakeable, and that alone demanded her respect, if not her agreement.

  "Alright, Father," she relented, her tone softening slightly. "If you trust Mr. Montgomery, I'll trust your judgment."

  Robert nodded, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. "Good. Now, let's discuss more pleasant matters. It's been too long since we've had the ce to catch up properly."

  Nigel's smile widened, genuine warmth filling his eyes. "Indeed, it has. How is your health, Robert? Last we spoke, you mentioned some s."

  Robert chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Old age, Nigel. It's catg up with me, but I'm still here. Still fighting."

  "And fighting well, from what I've heard," Nigel replied, raising an eyebrow. "Your operations in the South have been quite impressive."

  Robert's eyes twinkled with pride. "We've had our successes. It's a different game now, though. The ndscape has ged, and we must ge with it."

  Nigel houghtfully. "Adaptation is key. The world moves on, but the core values, the loyalty and honor, those remain the same."

  Janice, listening ily, couldn't help but feel a growing curiosity. She had heard many stories about the Principe family and their allies, but seeing the resped camaraderie between her father and Nigel was something else entirely. It hi a history rich with shared experiences, battles fought side by side, and a mutual respect that transded time.

  Nigel and Robert caught up for a while, theher and daughter duo left, leaving Nigel alone in the room once again. The old butler sat ba his chair, refleg on the meeting. The boween him and Robert was one fed in the fires of hardship and loyalty, and though much time had passed, the respect remained. Janice's skepticism was uandable, but Nigel khat as would soon speak louder than words.

  The study was quiet, save for the faint tig of an old grandfather clo the er. Nigel's eyes wandered back to the photograph on his desk, the faces of the Principe family smiling up at him. He reached for a small gss of scotch, taking a measured sip to steady his he memories of that night twenty years ago still haunted him, but the purpose he found in guiding Nerht a sense of soce.

  He thought back to the versation with Robert. The old ally had aged, his hair now more silver than bck, but his eyes still held that same spark of determination. Robert's operations in the South had flourished, a testament to his ing and leadership. Nigel respected that. It reminded him of the resilience required to survive and thrive in their world.

  Janice, oher hand, was a different challenge. She had her father's sharp mind but cked the historical text of their shared past. Nigel saw potential in her, a fiery determination that could either bee a valuable asset or a signifit liability. He hoped for the former but repared for the tter. He had learned long ago to prepare for every eventuality.

  Leaning baigel let out a long sigh. The weight of his responsibilities felt heavier with each passing day. Proteg Nero, guiding him, and ensuring the success of their pns was no small task. Yet, despite the exhaustion that tugged at his bones, he found strength in the purpose that drove him. The image of Nero, a symbol of the future and a bea of hope for reg their legacy, fueled his resolve.

  Nigel looked at the ring on his finger. "The Cl represents the attribute of 'limit,'" he mused out loud, his voice barely above a whisper. " it limit my pain, old age, or tiredness?" He seriously pourning the ring thoughtfully. He still had doubts about the supernatural revetioe seeing them with his owhe gleaming purple stone seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly light, a tangible reminder of the new reality he was grappling with.

  The old butler felt a twinge of hope as he sidered the possibilities. The idea of limiting his physical aional burdens, even slightly, was almost too tempting to resist. His mind drifted back to the night of the massacre, the screams, and the relentless horror. Could this ring, this small pieagic, really offer some respite from the memories that haunted him?

  Nigel sighed, shaking his head slightly. It was hard to fully trust in something so fantastical. Even after witnessing Nero's abilities and the transformation of Nyx, there art of him that remained skeptical, rooted in the practical and the real. Years of dealing with the harsh realities of the criminal underworld had left little room for belief iraordinary.

  But this was his life now. This was Nero's life. And as much as he might doubt, Nigel knew he couldn't afford to ighe tools at their disposal.

  He closed his eyes and focused on the ring, trying to feel its power. He envisiohe pain in his body, the stant ache in his joints, the weight of exhaustion that seemed to settle deeper with each passing day. "Limit," he whispered, hoping the ring would respond to his plea. For a moment, nothing happened. Nigel felt a flicker of disappoi, but then, slowly, a warmth spread from the ring, traveling up his arm and radiating through his body.

  It was subtle at first, almost imperceptible. The pain in his joints eased, the ever-present ache dulled to a manageable throb. His mi clearer, the fog of weariness lifting just enough for him to draw a deeper, steadier breath. Nigel opened his eyes, a mixture of awe and relief washing over him. The ring had responded, even if only slightly. It was real. The power was real.

  A tear slipped down his cheek as the weight of the moment hit him. This small relief was a gift, a sign that perhaps they could truly harhese abilities to achieve their goals. He had spent so long carrying the burden of that fateful night, of his failures and losses, but now there was a glimmer of hope. A ake things right.

  Nigel ched his fists, feeling the power course through him. "I accept it, Boss," he murmured, his voice trembling with a mix of gratitude aermination. "I accept the gift you bestowed upon me, and I shall destroy your enemies with this gift."

  The warmth from the Cl tio spread, a steady pulse that seemed to synize with his heartbeat. Nigel's old, weary bones felt a surge of strength, a renewal he hadn't thought possible. Tears welled up in his eyes as he sidered the weight of this moment, the depth of the gift Nero had given him.

  He took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs with a newfound crity. The exhaustion that had weighed him down for so long seemed to lift, repced by a steely resolve. Nigel wiped away his tears, his expression hardening with determination. He had a mission, a purpose, and he would not rest until it was fulfilled.

  "Thank you, Boss," he whispered, looking at the photograph of the Principe family on his desk. "I promise you, I will not squahis gift. I will honor our family's legad proteero with my life."

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