Zavier nearly gagged the moment the lift doors shut. The place reeked—a nasty mix of rust and the sour stench of uncollected trash from the lobby. It was cramped, too. He was forced so close to Elena that he couldn't escape the scent of rain and vanilla clinging to her hair.
"Sorry, Zav," Elena said, giving the control panel a sheepish look as the lift let out a violent shudder. "She's a bit cranky at night."
Zavier didn't say a word. He just stood there, face pale. It wasn't the fear of the lift snapping; it was the sheer disbelief that anyone actually lived in this rotting iron box. Back in Erebos, any architect responsible for this disaster would've had their head mounted on the palace gates.
The doors scraped open. Elena led him down a dim hallway where the paint peeled off the walls like dead skin. She stopped at a wooden door that looked like it would fall apart if he so much as breathed on it.
"Welcome to my humble abode!" She fumbled with the lock, trying to sound cheerful.
Zavier stepped inside and froze. It wasn't an apartment. It was a shoebox.
Small. Cramped. A single bed tucked in the corner with faded floral sheets. A tiny table piled with books and biscuit crumbs. A kitchenette that barely had room for one person, let alone two. No gold, no servants—just cheap, worn-out things.
"Just drop the box anywhere, Zav. Sorry about the mess, I was running late for work this morning," Elena said, peeling off a torn plastic poncho.
Zavier set the box down, his eyes scanning the room in silence.
"You... live here? Alone? Where are your parents?"
Elena's hands stilled on the electric kettle. She gave him a tired, thin smile.
"Dad died two years ago. Mom's been gone since I was a kid." She let out a dry, hollow laugh. "Now it's just me and a mountain of gambling debt he left behind. That's why Mick was so desperate today. I'm just a walking ATM to those guys."
Zavier felt a sharp burn in his chest. A girl this fragile, carrying that kind of weight in a dump like this? It was insane. He was the most ruthless judge in his own world, but he hated this. It was senseless.
"Take a seat. Careful though, that leg's a bit wobbly."
He sat on a green plastic chair. It was hard and uncomfortable—nothing like his shadow throne. Yet, the room felt... warm. Not the temperature, but Elena herself. Her energy was everywhere.
He spotted a small photo tucked into the mirror—Elena laughing with friends, ice cream in hand. In Erebos, no one laughed like that. Everything there was stiff, cold, and fueled by spite.
"Here. Payment for the manual labor," Elena said, handing him a plastic cup. Steam curled from the black liquid inside.
Zavier caught the scent. Sharp. Chemical. Way too much sugar.
"What is this?"
"Sachet coffee! My favorite brand. Buy-one-get-one deal at the mart downstairs," she said, sliding onto the floor and leaning against her bed. "What, do fancy photographers only drink Starbucks?"
Zavier took a sip. It was a confusing mess of bitter and sweet, but he didn't put it down. Not while Elena was sitting there, looking that genuinely happy over a cheap drink.
"It's fine," he muttered, nursing his pride.
Elena laughed. "Sure it is. Anyway, Zav... about Mick. How did his pants just... fall? And the shoelaces? I swear, it was like a ghost was messing with him."
Zavier met her gaze, his expression flat. "Maybe he's just malnourished. Hard to keep your pants up when you're that pathetic."
"Still! It was weird. But whatever, he deserved it. Thanks for walking me back, Zav. Honestly? I probably would've been a mess in that alley if you weren't there."
Zavier stayed quiet, watching her dry her hair with a small towel. Her heartbeat was steady, rhythmic. So fragile, yet so captivating.
She had no idea who he was. To her, he was just some guy who'd helped her out. And strangely, Zavier liked that. He liked being "human" for once.
But the darker side of him was already whispering. He hated this place for her. He hated that she owed a single cent to scum like Mick.
*'I'm going to fix this,'* he thought, his grip tightening until the plastic cup crinkled. *'And you'll never even know it was me.'*
"Zav? You okay? Is it the coffee?"
He set the cup down. "No. Just thinking... why stay here? You should move."
Elena let out another dry laugh. "With what money? My soul? Every cent goes to the debt, Zav. I'm just happy if I get three meals a day."
Zavier's blood boiled. *Debt.* He wanted to find everyone involved and drag them into the deepest pits of Erebos.
"I have to go," he said, standing up with a grace that made her blink.
"Wait, now? It's pouring!"
"It stopped," he lied. With a flick of his fingers under his coat, the rain outside died instantly.
Elena ran to the window. "What? No way. Are you a wizard or something?"
Zavier gave her a small smirk. "I'm a photographer. I know when the light's coming. See you tomorrow, Elena."
***
The moment the door closed, Zavier's eyes bled into a void. A freezing aura poured from him, shattering the hallway lights. He didn't take the stairs. He stepped into the shadows and reappeared in an alley three blocks away.
Mick and his goons were huddled under a ledge, swearing. Mick was still fumbling with a piece of string, trying to tie his pants up.
"That prick! Tomorrow, I'm bringing a blade!" Mick spat.
"There won't be a tomorrow for you," Zavier's voice echoed, cold as the grave.
Mick spun around, trembling. Zavier stood there, hands in his pockets, but his shadow was stretching across the pavement, growing claws.
"Y-you... what are you doing here?!"
Zavier stepped forward. "You touched something that belongs to me. In my world, there is only one sentence for that."
He opened his palm. Shadows lunged from the walls like starving beasts. Mick didn't even have time to scream. The darkness forced its way into their lungs, ripping their souls out until their bodies were nothing but shriveled husks. Zavier stepped over the ash that used to be Mick.
"Clean it up," he commanded. "Leave nothing."
In seconds, the alley was spotless. No blood. No bodies. Like they'd never existed. Zavier straightened his collar, his face returning to its calm, icy mask.
"Debt's settled, Elena. Now, I just have to make sure you never leave."