Amagi stood before the President of Sundara, her posture calm as her presence cut with razor-sharp edges through the silence in the air. The only sound was the soft hum of the ocean outside the yacht's windows. Her mask shone dimly with a soft, pulsing red, like a heartbeat waiting to stop beating.
She stared at him, her voice cutting clean through the quiet.
"I know your cooperation scheme."
The president blinked, startled-he had expected negotiation, or perhaps veiled threats, not this direct assault.
"W-What are you–" he stuttered, a mix of confusion and panic in his tone.
Amagi raised his hand and with the slightest movement of his hand, silenced him, stepping closer. "Creating a fake Neuronium crystal and handing it to Solaria. Since Neuronium does not react with anything, you can easily fool them…
The color drained from his face. Beads of sweat started to form at his temples. He swallowed hard as she kept going, her voice turning razor-sharp.
"…Then you retreat in the middle of war, feigning that the enemy is too strong. Solaria gets destroyed, and you enjoy the spoils with Noxora-a comfortable little 6:4 territory share."
Her lips curved beneath the mask. It was not a smile. It was the barest hint of superiority and certainty.
The president quivered. "H-How do you know about that?" he stammered. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, wetting his beach-style T-shirt, darkening the fabric.
Amagi's eyes burned a deeper red, and she took another step forward, closer to them. "My master already hates this world," she said quietly, "so you do not want to give him a reason to watch it burn even faster.
Her mask pulsed brighter, the red shimmer crawling across its surface like living fury. She leaned forward slightly, and the president instinctively leaned back, fear tightening every muscle in his body.
"If you ever dare to come between me and my master," she whispered, her voice low, steady, deadly, "I will destroy you and your so-called Sundara.
He mustered all the fake courage left in his body. His voice was quivering, yet he tried to speak loud. "Y-You do not know who you are messing with! I will make sure to–"
Amagi burst out laughing. It echoed inside the room, sharp and chilling. Her face was hidden behind the mask, but her amusement spilled into the room like cold water. Then, her laughter stopped abruptly. The tone dropped into ice.
"What are you going to do? Kill me? Send me to jail?" She cocked her head slightly. Her presence alone felt suffocating.
"I do not care if you target me. But if your foolish schemes disturb my master's peaceful life…" Her voice turned dark and cold. "I will destroy your whole family. Your bloodline will end with you."
The president's body shook. His knees began to quiver. His last skein of pride was torn open by gnawing fear. His mouth opened to utter words that seemed to catch in his throat.
Shakily, he inhaled and forced out, "Master this… master that… You talk like a pawn. Looks like someone is controlling you."
He fell back on the floor, still shaking, and raised his hand to her pitifully. His voice emerged in a harsh mixture of desperation and arrogance.
"Come with me. I will keep you like a treasure, not like that master of yours." His gaze slid down her body, full of arrogance. "You can get more from me. I will help you get free from that basta–"
He never finished.
Amagi's hand moved quicker than his eyes could follow. Her fingers wrapped around his throat and lifted him easily off the ground. His feet kicked under him, seeking the earth and not finding it. Her eyes burned brighter, the red hue turning feral. Her mask glowed like a demon unchained.
"Remember where we are," she whispered. Every word cut into him like a knife. "We're in the middle of the ocean. If I tear you apart and then throw you overboard, no one will ever find your body."
His fingers clawed at her wrist, his legs dangling helplessly. His face turned red, then purple. "I-I. so-rry." he gasped. Breath deserted him under her tightening grip. Dots danced in his eyes.
After a long moment, she released him. He fell like a dropped rag, landing hard on the floor. He hacked violently, clutching at his throat, gasping for air. Dark red marks already formed around his neck, shaped exactly like her fingers.
Amagi stepped back. Her voice turned eerily calm once again. "Consider yourself lucky that my master ordered me not to kill anyone. Otherwise, you would be dead already."
With that cold dismissal, she turned away from him as if he did not matter. She slid the door open and walked out quietly. Then she broke into a run, heading toward the yacht's deck, her coat fluttering behind her.
On deck…
The wind was howling around the upper deck. Guards were running about chaotically. One of them yelled, "What? It's a distraction?"
"Quickly move! Save the president!" ordered the commanding officer, his voice tight with urgency.
As they turned, their movement froze. A lone figure was standing on the very top of the yacht, her hair flowing in the wind, her body silhouetted against the blazing sun. The sun crowned her, hiding her face in shadow. She looked ethereal, untouchable, terrifying.
The commander pointed his gun, voice stern. "You there! Hands up! Surrender!"
Dozens of rifles locked on her, a sea of weapons aimed upward.
"I know you are with the person in the car," he shouted. "Surrender now or I will use force!"
In one swift motion, Mattel's sunroof opened beneath her, and she flipped backward, an elegant backflip ending her smoothly inside the vehicle. It was as if the move had been choreographed.
The commander blinked, startled at her sudden disappearance. He steadied his gun and repeated, "Surrender!"
Amagi raised herself halfway from Mattel's interior, her hands resting casually on the roof. Through her mask, she stared at him, cool and composed.
"You know, a big bad wolf once said." Her voice held a hint of amusement. "'Sometimes a heist is not about action. It is about distraction.' Remember what I said.
She slid fully into Mattel's seat.
"Fire!" the commander yelled.
Gunfire erupted. Bullets rained in a metallic storm, clashing against Mattel's surface. Yet the car remained untouched. The bullets ricocheted or flattened harmlessly. The sleek black exterior still glimmered as if freshly polished.
Mattel's tires folded inward, and mechanical panels expanded. Hidden side skirts extended, stabilizing the craft. Two compact spoilers unfurled at the rear with a hiss of engineered precision. The car rose smoothly off the deck, hovering above the soldiers.
The humming of engines was deep, almost threatening. The soldiers continued shooting, yet their weapons meant nothing: their bullets, no more than annoying background noise.
Mattel shot forward. A blast of wind knocked hats off and sent papers flying. The vehicle vanished over the horizon in seconds.
The commander lowered his gun, surprised. The soldiers looked at one another fearfully.
"Check the president!" he barked suddenly, snapping out of shock.
They ran to the president's quarters. By the time the door swung open, they were in for a shock. The president lay on the ground, clutching his bruised throat, gasping for air, trembling from shock and humiliation.
After they supported him to his feet, they asked in panic what happened. The president told them everything with a shaky breath and a voice filled with dread.
Meanwhile…
At that same moment, far from the chaos on the ocean, Kim Taesin stood casually leaning on his bike chopper . His long black coat danced in the wind like a living shadow. A black fanged mask covered his face, cold and emotionless.
He watched from a hill overlooking the city as the president of Noxora held a grand ceremony. Banners bedecked the glittering stage replete with powerful symbols. Lights, cameras, and cheering masses celebrated their so-called triumph. Taesin's eyes didn't shift. Smooth. Serene. Silent power emanated from him, a storm that watched the world before it decided where to strike.