Zariya walked through the mist-clad streets of Dahlia city, her mind churning over the news of the Tora Mob’s rise. Damon--of all people--had managed to take control of what was rightfully hers. She’d heard the whispers from one of her colleagues, and now, she was about to face the consequences of her absence. For months, she had remained a shadow, a ghost in the underworld. But finally, she was back, and her first order of business was reasserting her authority, starting with the Tora Mob.

As the Desiertan strode toward Tora's base, a mixture of anger and nostalgia simmered within her. She remembered the Akudama Syndicate--the guild that had once been her pride and her weapon in the cutthroat world of Fiore’s underground. The first of its kind. It had all seemed so promising, the perfect operation built from nothing, only to be shattered by betrayal, power struggles, and internal wars. Losing the Syndicate still weighed heavily on her. No matter how cold or ruthless she had been, it was difficult to forget the people she had bonded with, the kingdom she had built. And now, those same people were following someone else.

A humorless smile crossed her lips as she approached the Tora Mob’s base, a sprawling, opulent building in one of the "nicer" areas of Dahlia. Zariya couldn’t help but feel a pang of disbelief. Damon, the loud-mouthed brute who had once groveled at her feet, had managed to pull this off. It was impressive, but it would also make his downfall all the sweeter.

Two guards stood at the entrance, armed and wary. They eyed their former leader as she approached, clearly ready to strike if needed. But when she stepped into the light, recognition flickered in their eyes. One of them swallowed hard. “Z-Zariya...?” he stammered. The other’s hand twitched toward his weapon, but his companion grabbed his arm, shaking his head. "Let her through," the first one muttered under his breath, his voice shaking. Zariya didn’t say a word as she passed them, her cold, predatory gaze enough to send a shiver down their spines. Fear was a language she spoke fluently, and it was clear they hadn’t forgotten her.

Inside, the base was far more elaborate than Zariya had anticipated. Lavish tapestries hung from the walls, soft carpets lined the floors, and the air was thick with the scent of wealth and power. This wasn’t the crude operation she had imagined. Damon had transformed the Tora Mob into something formidable--something that looked capable of taking the city if given the chance. The vampire couldn’t decide whether to be impressed, proud...or furious.

As she made her way deeper into the base, she began to see familiar faces—former members of Akudama Syndicate who she had somehow remembered. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw their former queen, eyes wide with shock and uncertainty. Zariya kept her expression neutral, even as something twisted in her gut. These were the same people she had led, the same people she had fought alongside. Now they served Damon, and in their eyes, it was clear they didn’t know where they stood with her.

She didn’t give them time to question it.

“I need to speak with your boss,” she said coolly, her voice slicing through the tense silence. A few of them exchanged glances, unsure of what to do, but Zariya wasn’t about to be kept waiting. One of the women, a burly former Syndicate member named Hulga, finally nodded and motioned for her to follow.

Hulga led her through a series of corridors, each one more dramatic and flashy than the last, until finally, she was brought into a grand room where Damon sat, surrounded by his closest followers. He looked different. Sharper, cleaner, more confident. His clothes were expensive and tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back, and he exuded the kind of self-assurance that only came from immense wealth and power.

When Damon saw Zariya, a wide grin spread across his face. He stood up from his seat, his arms outstretched in a mock gesture of welcome. “Zariya! It’s been too long, old friend.” His tone was warm, almost jovial, as if they had parted on the best of terms. “I heard you were back in Dahlia. I didn’t think you’d come visit me so soon.”

Zariya allowed a small, icy smile to touch her lips. She was careful to hide her disgust. “I couldn’t resist. It seems you’ve been busy.”

Damon laughed, the sound grating to her ears. “Busy doesn’t even begin to cover it. You know how it is in this business—you’ve got to seize opportunities when they come knocking.” He gestured around the room. “The Tora Mob has been flourishing. We’ve taken over some of the old Syndicate routes, made new alliances… It’s been good.” Zariya’s eyes flicked over his entourage, dozens of men and women, some of whom had once been under her command. They all looked to Damon now, and that fact alone made her blood boil. But she kept her composure.

“Impressive,” she said, her voice smooth. “You’ve come a long way since the days when you were trying to impress me.”

Damon chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, those were simpler times, weren’t they? But we’ve all got to grow, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Zariya said, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “We do.”

Damon, oblivious to the warning in her tone, leaned forward. “I assume you’re here because you want to talk business, right? Maybe… join forces again? I always admired your mind for strategy, Zariya. We could do great things together.”

Zariya smiled faintly. “Actually, I was hoping we could talk privately.”

Damon hesitated, glancing at his underlings. Zariya could see the flicker of mistrust in his eyes. He was smarter than she had given him credit for.

“I think it’s better if we speak here,” he said, his voice casual but firm. “After all, I like to keep everything transparent with my people.”

Zariya’s smile didn’t falter, but inside, her patience was wearing thin. She had no intention of letting this farce drag on any longer than necessary. As Zariya stood there in the heart of Damon’s lavish base, she played her part cool, taking in the sight of the man she had once mentored, now dressed in the finest silks and surrounded by the wealth he had amassed. He was nothing like the young man she remembered—loud, ambitious, and desperate for her approval. Now, he strutted around like a king in his own little empire.

"Or better yet, let me give you a tour," Damon said, his tone casual, as though they were equals meeting on friendly terms. He was clearly proud of what he’d built, eager to show it off. Zariya’s smile remained, cold and distant, as he motioned for her to follow him. As they walked through the halls, Damon began to boast.

“You see, after the fall of Akudama Syndicate, I had to act fast. We lost a lot of ground, and everyone was scattered. But I pulled them together, reorganized the routes, secured alliances with some powerful figures. Look at what we’ve built now.”

He gestured to the walls, lined with intricate and valuable art. The Vampire's eyes flicked over the pieces, noting the wealth but unimpressed. She knew how quickly riches could be lost in their world. Her mind remained sharp, though, cataloging every detail. The building was a maze of corridors and rooms, each more elaborate than the last. Damon had spared no expense in creating an image of power and influence. They passed through a large manufacturing area, where dozens of workers were busy assembling weapons. The hum of machinery and the clank of metal filled the air. Damon pointed proudly to the assembly lines. “We’ve taken over most of the weapon manufacturing routes you and Erebus left behind. Expanded them, actually. The Scalas, some other smaller factions--they’re buying from us now. Business is booming.”

Zariya nodded, her expression giving nothing away. Inside, she was calculating. Damon’s operation was larger than she had anticipated, but nothing she couldn’t take down--takeover, rather. She listened as he continued to speak, his arrogance growing with each step. “We’ve also streamlined the drug trade,” Damon continued, leading her into another section of the building. There, workers were packaging various substances, ready to be distributed. “Dahlia is hooked. It’s our biggest market by far, and we’ve got the alliances to keep it that way.”

The Desiertan's eyes swept over the operation, her mind working in overdrive.  She let him keep talking, feeding his ego, while she mentally mapped out every detail of the base. The guards, the weapons, the escape routes...she noted them all.

As they moved into what appeared to be the nerve center of the operation, Damon grinned at her, clearly reveling in his success. “Not bad, huh? I’ve even got some new contacts in the northern regions. Vampire covens, big money players. We’re close to taking full control of the city.” Zariya let her eyes drift across the room. It was lavish, full of leather armchairs and large maps of Dahlia with various routes and territories marked. Damon had thought of everything, but he had forgotten one key detail; who had taught him everything he knew. The tour ended in a grand, ornate room where several of Damon’s most trusted underlings stood, watching their exchange with curious eyes. Damon turned to her, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.  

Zariya’s smile widened, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s more than I expected. You’ve done well for yourself, Damon. Very well.” Her tone was smooth, almost complimentary, but there was a razor blade beneath her words. Damon, ever the fool, took her words at face value. He puffed up his chest. “So, you think you’d be interested in working with me again? After all, you’re not running things anymore. But with your skills and my resources, we could dominate the entire region.”

Zariya raised an eyebrow, her voice still calm and measured. “I was really hoping we would discuss that...alone.”

Damon hesitated again, and the vampire could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was more to her visit than pleasantries, but his ego wouldn’t let him acknowledge it. “Nah, I think we’ll stay here,” he said, his voice firm. “Like I said, I tend to be very transparent with my people.” Zariya’s patience was wearing thin, but she kept her composure, leaning into her natural grace and menace. She had tried to play nice, but it was clear that Damon wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. He needed to be reminded of who she was, and what she was capable of.

“Very well,” she said softly. “Let’s talk, then.”

Her eyes glinted with cold fury as she straightened her posture, her voice taking on a harder edge. “You’ve built something impressive here, Damon, I’ll give you that. But you seem to have forgotten who you owe all of this to. I built Akudama Syndicate. I had a vision, a plan. And then, you turned your back on it. You took what was mine and made it your own. So...I want it back.” she sighed. "You work for me, give back everything you've gained from what I've created, and I'll forgive your betrayal. Hell, I'll even let you oversee the operations here."

Damon’s smirk faltered for the first time since she had arrived. "Have you lost your mind?" His eyes narrowed, and Zariya could see the tension rising in his body. “What was yours?” he spat, his tone no longer friendly. “The Syndicate was dead, Zariya. You were gone. I saved what I could and turned it into something better. Don’t come in here and try to act like you still own any of this.”

Zariya’s eyes darkened, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “You think you’re in control, Damon? You think this is yours? I didn't just build Akudama. Have you forgotten? I built you too. I made you who you are. And now, I’m taking it all back.”

Damon’s expression twisted into a sneer. “This isn’t your world anymore, Zariya. You don’t have the power you once did. My people follow me now. You’re a ghost of the past, love. It happens to the best of us.”

The tension in the room thickened as Damon’s underlings began to shift, their hands moving toward their weapons. Damon raised a hand, signaling them to hold off. “Last chance, Zariya,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Walk away, or I’ll make sure you never come back.”

Zariya’s lips curled into a predatory smile, her fangs gleaming in the dim light. “Well, I guess you've made up your mind.” Almost immediately, Zariya lunged forward, her speed igniting a feral thrill within her. She transformed into a blur, a shadow darting across the room, and before Damon could fully process her movement, her fist crashed into his jaw. The impact reverberated through the space, sending him staggering back, a flicker of surprise morphing into simmering anger in his eyes.

“Still as fast as ever, huh?” he grunted, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he wiped it away. “It didn't have to be this way.”

Damon charged, fists swinging with reckless power, muscles straining against the fabric of his fitted shirt. The Phantom, a seasoned combatant, was no stranger to the chaos of a fight. She ducked beneath his first wild swing, feeling the rush of air as it barely missed her. With a swift motion, she countered, her elbow slamming into his ribs with satisfying force. Damon growled, a feral tone creeping into his voice. Grabbing her arm with a grip that felt like iron, Zariya's back against the wall. The cold surface hit her back hard, knocking the breath from her lungs, but Zariya’s was greater than any amount of pain. She kicked off the wall, propelling herself back toward him, her fury a tangible force.

Damon was ready, throwing another fist aimed at her midsection. Zariya twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the strike, adrenaline surging through her veins. She retaliated with a series of rapid punches aimed directly at his face. Though he managed to block most of them, one knuckle found its mark on the bridge of his nose, eliciting a satisfying spray of blood that splattered against the floor. “Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, a defiant glimmer igniting in his eyes as he wiped away the blood, now smeared across his cheek. He was refusing to back down, and Zariya couldn’t help but admire his stubbornness.

They circled each other like wolves, both searching for that critical mistake. Damon lunged again, throwing his weight behind a wild punch aimed at her head. Zariya ducked low, the air shifting dangerously as his fist whistled past her. She surged forward, slipping beneath his defenses, and landed a brutal kick to his knee. Damon stumbled, and Zariya seized the moment, launching a series of rapid-fire strikes that connected with his torso. Each hit landed with a satisfying crunch, her own strength surging as she pressed him back against the wall.

“You were always too proud for your own good, Damon,” she spat, a red droplet of sweat dripping down her skin as the heat of the fight enveloped her. “You thought you could take what was mine and make it yours.” He grunted in defiance, attempting to regain his composure, but the Desiertan wasn’t finished. With a sudden burst of speed, she grasped his head and twisted it while driving her knee squarely into his gut. Damon gasped, the air forcibly expelled from his lungs, and Zariya took the opening to launch him across the room.

He crashed into a table, splintering the wood beneath him, but to her surprise, he was back on his feet almost instantly, fury radiating from him like heat waves. The Daemon charged at her, fists swinging wildly. Zariya met him with fierce determination, their bodies colliding in a tempest of strikes and counterattacks. The fight morphed into a chaotic dance of violence, blood painting the room as each struggled for dominance. Damon’s strength was formidable, each heavy blow a punishing reminder of his power, but Zariya’s tenacity allowed her to absorb hits that would have dropped lesser opponents.

In the midst of battle, they locked in a brutal struggle, each trying to gain the upper hand. Damon’s strength was undeniable, but Zariya’s resilience shone through. With a final, desperate move, she ducked under a wild swing, spinning behind him in one fluid motion and jumping to plant her feet upon his should. With all her might, she seized his head, twisting viciously as a crack echoed through the room, pulling with all her might to tear his head clean off. Blood gushed from the severed neck, painting the walls in a macabre tribute to their battle.

As Damon’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground, Zariya stood over him, chest heaving with exertion, the thrill of victory coursing through her veins, and his head in her grasp. The remaining Tora Mob members stared, wide-eyed and trembling, the air thick with fear. With a victorious smirk, she gracefully swayed to the biggest part of the building, where most of the mob had been working and managing shipment.

“Look at this,” she declared, her voice steady but imbued with undeniable authority. Her voice boomed throughout the facility, prompting heads to snap towards her. “This is what happens to those who think they can steal from me. I built the Akudama Syndicate. I shaped it. And I will do the same again.”

She scanned the trembling underlings, their weapons lowered and uncertainty etched across their faces. “You have a choice. Stand with me, or meet the same fate as your false king. Know that if you stand with me, together, we can reclaim what’s rightfully ours.”