Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 27

Eren returned to the tower, slipping through the corridors as silently as the morning mist. His destination was Azrael's private study, a place steeped in secrecy and danger, where whispers carried weight, and silence held more menace than words.

As he reached the door, he paused, taking in a breath. Azrael's summons always carried an edge of unpredictability, and today felt no different. Steeling himself, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Azrael was seated at his desk, his figure partially obscured by the dim light filtering through the narrow windows. His presence filled the room with a suffocating stillness, as if the very air bent under his will.

"Eren," Azrael's voice was quiet, yet it cut through the silence like a blade. "Sit."

Eren complied, his gaze unwavering as he lowered himself into the chair opposite. He placed the scroll from Rulak on the desk, its paper still sealed, untouched.

Azrael's eyes flicked to the scroll, his expression inscrutable. "Did Rulak have anything else to say?"

Eren hesitated only a moment before responding. "He tried to... test me. Questions, hints. Nothing more."

Azrael gave a faint, knowing smile. "Rulak always did enjoy meddling. A weakness of his." He unrolled the scroll and read it briefly, his face a mask of calm. "But it's a valuable trait in certain... environments."

Eren stayed silent, watching Azrael, trying to read the undercurrents of the man's mood. Azrael's gaze was still on the scroll, but there was a weight in his expression that hinted at something else, something he hadn't shared yet.

Finally, Azrael looked up, his eyes sharp and discerning. "You've been loyal to me, Eren. More loyal than most. And because of that, I have a task for you—one that requires absolute discretion and precision."

Eren leaned forward, his attention sharpening. "I'll do whatever is needed."

Azrael's gaze narrowed, the calculating look deepening. "This mission isn't just a test of loyalty, Eren. It's a measure of your resolve, your ability to sever ties and act without hesitation."

The weight of Azrael's words settled over him like a heavy cloak. "Who is the target?"

Azrael paused, choosing his words carefully. "The Council of Elders has been... problematic. They cling to their ideals, their notions of control over what should be mine. You'll find a way to silence them, but it must look like an accident, a tragedy they brought upon themselves."

Eren felt a chill, a thrill of darkness in the request. "Consider it done."

Azrael leaned back, satisfaction glimmering faintly in his eyes. "I know you won't disappoint me. Remember, your actions here will not only determine your future within this tower but also your place within the hierarchy of power itself."

Eren nodded, standing, his mind already calculating, plotting. Azrael's smile was almost paternal, a twisted mockery of affection as he dismissed Eren with a wave of his hand.

As Eren walked out, his steps were steady, but inside, he felt the weight of what lay ahead. The Council of Elders wasn't just a single opponent; they were powerful, entrenched, and ruthless in their own right. But this was what Azrael demanded, and failure was not an option.

--

Eren waited until darkness settled over the city, a cloak of shadows he wore like armor. He moved through the streets with purpose, his destination a secluded section of the Council's stronghold, where few dared venture after dark.

The halls were quiet as he slipped inside, the only sound the faint shuffle of distant guards. He'd mapped out his route, memorized every step, every shadow. The Council was cautious, but even they couldn't predict a strike from within.

He reached the chamber where the Elders held their secret meetings, pressing himself against the wall as he listened for any signs of movement. A soft murmur drifted through the doors, the low, conspiratorial tones of those who believed themselves untouchable.

Eren waited, his body tense, every nerve poised to strike.

And then, as the door opened and one of the Elders stepped out, he moved. Silent as a ghost, he slid up behind them, his dagger flashing in the darkness. The Elder didn't have time to cry out before Eren's blade silenced him.

He slipped into the chamber, a shadow among shadows, and the remaining Elders barely had time to register his presence before he struck again, his movements swift, precise, merciless.

When the last body fell, Eren stood amidst the silence, the weight of his actions settling over him. This was what Azrael demanded—ruthlessness, efficiency, a willingness to cross any line.

But as he looked down at the bodies, he felt a flicker of something deep within—a shadow of the man he once was, a man who would have flinched at this sight, who would have hesitated.

Eren crushed the thought, turning away from the carnage, his resolve hardening once more. There was no room for doubt, no space for regret. He had chosen this path, and he would follow it to the end, whatever the cost.

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