Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 45

Ezura's streets whispered with mounting tension, rumors of Azrael's unease mingling with news of the mysterious figure challenging his power. Each encounter Eren orchestrated, each shadow cast by his growing influence, sent a tremor through the city's underworld. To the common folk, he was becoming a symbol—vague, uncatchable, a figure of rebellion against a tyrant. But to Azrael's loyalists, he was a threat that could not be ignored.

Inside the safe house, Eren's allies gathered, their anticipation mingled with fear as they prepared for Azrael's counterattack.

"We've disrupted his flow," Alaric began, spreading out a map marked with recent skirmishes. "Our scouts report increased patrols in the east sector, a few ambushes here and there. Azrael's not sitting back anymore. He's hunting."

Eren studied the map, his fingers tracing paths through the city like veins. "Let him search. We have one advantage he can't match."

Renna looked up. "Which is?"

Eren's gaze sharpened. "We know his patterns. His network is extensive but rigid. He controls through fear and brute force, but fear can only control those who feel it."

---

As they discussed their next move, a soft knock sounded at the door. Renna went to answer, her hand on her dagger just in case, and opened the door to find a figure swathed in a dark cloak, eyes alert but wary.

It was Lorcan, a mid-level enforcer under one of Azrael's more powerful lieutenants. They'd crossed paths once before, and the man's demeanor then had been cautiously respectful—a trait Eren knew he could work with.

Lorcan stepped inside, his gaze flicking nervously from Eren to Renna and back. "I'm risking my life by being here," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Azrael's lieutenants... they're beginning to wonder if they'll be next."

Eren nodded slowly, assessing the man. "And what is it you want?"

Lorcan hesitated, the weight of his decision hanging visibly on his shoulders. "Protection. If Azrael senses even a hint of betrayal, he'll come after me. But I'm not the only one looking for a way out. Azrael's become... unpredictable. If you offer a real alternative, you'll have more of his people flocking to your side."

Eren's eyes narrowed, considering the implications. "So you're suggesting a... migration of sorts. Turn the fear he instilled in them into loyalty to us."

Lorcan nodded. "Not loyalty, exactly. Let's say... an alliance of self-preservation."

A smile tugged at the corners of Eren's mouth. "That I can work with."

---

Eren dispatched Renna to reach out to more of Azrael's lieutenants, crafting delicate alliances based on calculated promises. Each meeting was tense, conducted in shadowed alleys or disguised as ordinary transactions. But the goal was clear: create an atmosphere of doubt, a net that would slowly strangle Azrael's control over his people.

In one such meeting, Renna faced a former ally of Azrael named Maris. She was sharp-eyed, a woman with scars marking her loyalty battles over the years. As they spoke, her gaze drilled into Renna's, wary but intrigued.

"What guarantee do I have that you're not setting me up?" Maris challenged, crossing her arms. "I trust Azrael about as far as I can throw him, but I've survived this long by knowing when to choose sides."

Renna leaned forward, her voice low and steady. "Azrael's days of holding onto power are numbered. He's losing ground, one skirmish at a time. Join us, and you'll be free of his paranoia. Stand by him, and it's only a matter of time before he turns on you."

Maris's lips twisted into a wry smile. "You speak like this war is already won. But... I'll consider it."

That was all Renna needed for now. Each conversation added another drop to the storm Eren was building, a carefully orchestrated chaos that would eventually drown Azrael.

---

True to form, Azrael's response was swift and brutal. A series of raids struck some of Eren's hidden caches across the city, his men sweeping through the streets like hounds, sniffing out any trace of resistance. The city felt Azrael's wrath—those caught harboring Eren's allies were publicly punished, beaten, and worse.

Eren's allies, sensing the tide turning, braced for the worst. Alaric approached Eren late one night, his face etched with tension. "The safe houses are being compromised faster than we anticipated. If we don't adapt, we'll have nowhere left to hide."

Eren's expression was unreadable. "Then we stop hiding. We're going to make Ezura's underworld too risky for him to control. He relies on fear, but if he's surrounded by threats, he'll be forced to retreat."

Alaric stared at him, taken aback by the audacity. "You're saying we put pressure on his people—draw him out?"

Eren nodded. "Azrael's greatest weapon is control. If we strip him of that, his power will unravel. It's time we force his hand."

---

They set their sights on one of Azrael's prized territories, a fortress of influence he had guarded for years. Its loss would be a personal blow, a humiliation Azrael couldn't ignore.

Under cover of night, Eren's crew moved swiftly, infiltrating the fortress and dismantling it from within. Alaric and Renna led small units to disable sentries, while Eren's magic snuffed out every light, cloaking their attack in impenetrable darkness.

Inside, they moved like shadows, dispatching guards silently, with deadly precision. Eren's magic laced through the halls, dimming senses and heightening fear. When they reached the heart of the fortress, Eren left a message scrawled in Azrael's own blood-red ink—a signature to mark the fortress as his, a final taunt that he was coming for Azrael himself.

---

The next morning, word of the attack spread like wildfire. Azrael's fortress had been taken, his lieutenants humiliated, his own reputation shaken. But as the city buzzed with the news, a letter arrived for Eren—a simple note sealed with a familiar emblem.

Azrael's challenge was unmistakable: "Face me if you dare."

Eren's eyes darkened as he read the words, his resolve hardening into steel. "Prepare everyone," he told his allies. "The final move is ours to make."