The city of Xylanthia stretched beneath the plane like a living circuit of lights, its skyscrapers glinting gold in the late afternoon sun, and shadows pooling between narrow alleys that carried whispers of the old world. Unlike Castria, where wealth and influence were clearly divided among nobles, the poor, and the average class, Xylanthia thrived on subtle power—money flowed invisibly, influence was exchanged in cryptic nods, and the highest ranks were invisible to all but those who knew where to look.
Aldric watched the city from the plane's window, brown eyes calculating and alert. Every high-rise, every shadowed rooftop, every glass façade could conceal a predator, an informant, or a surveillance device. Fox had spoken with precision on the phone, but that voice carried weight, authority, and discretion—everything Aldric had come to expect from someone capable of manipulating continents from the shadows.
By the time the plane landed, Aldric had already mentally mapped the city. Fox's instructions had been vague but deliberate: a private vehicle would meet him at the terminal, and he was to follow without question. The streets were orderly, the traffic flowing as if choreographed, yet Aldric could feel the invisible grid beneath it—the hidden connections, the watchers, the subtle signals that spoke of power quietly held.
The sedan waited at the curb, black, sleek, and unmarked. Its driver gave a subtle nod as Aldric approached. Sliding into the back seat, Aldric's gaze swept the street outside. Cameras—real and virtual—were everywhere, but so far, nothing flickered unnaturally.
"Mr. Benedict?" a smooth voice called from the front seat. "Welcome to Xylanthia."
Aldric turned slightly and saw the man in the driver's seat, hands on the wheel, but the voice carried authority that transcended the seat. "Fox," Aldric said simply.
The car merged into the city streets, gliding past the towering office buildings, narrow alleyways, and sprawling commercial districts. Fox's tone was calm, deliberate, but it carried the weight of hidden danger.
"I assume you've briefed yourself on my son's situation?" Fox asked.
"Yes," Aldric replied. "I understand he hasn't committed any recent crimes, but he is being targeted as part of someone else's influence. That influence may be beyond what the law allows us to counteract."
Fox's lips curved faintly, the first trace of a smile. "Correct. And that someone… may be interested in your work, Mr. Benedict. I've heard of you, of course. Your exploits in Castria—especially your handling of that courtroom with Rowan Hale—have reached here."
Aldric allowed himself a subtle smirk. "I only do what I must."
Fox nodded, eyes forward, unwavering. "Good. That is precisely why I sought you. My son's predicament is not a matter of the local law—it is a matter of influence, power, and strategy. Someone is using legal manipulation, financial leverage, and personal threat simultaneously. You will need to navigate every one of these to protect him."
Aldric leaned back, letting the gravity of the words settle. "I'll need everything you can provide—background, potential threats, names, financial data. Anything that gives me insight."
Fox's gaze met his in the rearview mirror. "Of course. But remember this—time is as important as intellect. You have four days, Mr. Benedict. Any mistake, hesitation, or underestimation will be costly. And be aware—the man behind this knows the law, the networks, and the shadows of Xylanthia better than any outsider. You are not merely facing criminals… you are facing strategy itself."
Fox's vehicle slowed, and they arrived at a private compound hidden behind mirrored glass and steel fencing. The property had the appearance of corporate headquarters, but the interior was intimate and heavily monitored. Security personnel at each checkpoint barely glanced at Aldric—Fox's influence was absolute here.
Inside, a young man of perhaps twenty, with sharp features and nervous eyes, awaited. "Aldric Benedict?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," Aldric replied, extending a hand. "You must be Fox's son."
He hesitated, but then shook it firmly. "I am. Thank you for coming. I… I didn't know what to do. They say I've done things… I haven't. And they—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "They say if I fail, it will come for everyone I love."
Aldric studied him carefully. "Names, timelines, anything you know that seems off. Every detail matters, no matter how small."
The young man nodded. "I… I can tell you what happened over the last three months. Financial audits, travel restrictions, contacts I didn't recognize… and then I was summoned to a 'review.' That's when they accused me. It was—well, it was a show. A trial, but not a real one. I had no counsel, nothing… and threats everywhere. Even the smallest movement could trigger retaliation."
Aldric's brow furrowed. He had encountered corrupt law before, but this was layered—legal, financial, and psychological pressure applied simultaneously. He noted every subtlety: the timings, the inconsistencies, the names the young man avoided mentioning, and the areas where he hesitated.
"Good," Aldric said quietly. "We'll untangle this. But remember—don't trust anyone outside this room unless you know their allegiance. Even those who seem harmless could be instruments of manipulation."
Later, Aldric and Fox convened in a private room, the walls lined with screens showing anonymized data from financial networks, travel logs, and communications intercepts. The young man was settled into a secure area nearby, monitored but free to speak with Aldric when necessary.
Fox pointed to a network map of Xylanthia. "The man behind this operates like a ghost. Every trace is misdirection. Anyone tracing a path will hit dead ends. You are the first outsider to get a direct lead. That is why you are here."
Aldric leaned forward, absorbing the information. "So Cain was a foot soldier. And all signs indicate he was working under someone higher. That means the network is multi-layered, and the final decision-maker is manipulating every tier."
"Exactly," Fox replied. "And the next moves are delicate. The network uses legal threats, financial coercion, and influence over local authorities. You cannot act rashly."
Aldric nodded. His mind began mapping the next steps—cross-referencing past cases, potential financial loopholes, weak points in the network, and observing the human elements: fear, trust, and hesitation. Every psychological nuance could be used.
Fox's eyes were sharp. "You have four days before the pressures intensify. After that… the network moves faster than most can respond."
Aldric allowed a moment of silence to absorb the gravity. Then, with measured confidence, he said, "Then we move deliberately. I will start by auditing the financial records, analyzing every link, every contact, and every anomaly. Then, I will determine how the law can be leveraged… not just to protect your son, but to expose who is pulling the strings."
Fox gave a rare, approving smile. "That is why I called you. Precision and intellect. Do not fail."
Aldric tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Failure isn't an option."
Outside the compound, Aldric could see the faint outlines of unmarked vehicles parked across the street. Observers? Possibly. But he also knew that nothing in Xylanthia was as simple as it seemed. A single shadow could belong to someone with eyes on multiple levels of influence.
Inside, he began examining logs, receipts, communications, and timelines. Every anomaly he found he cross-referenced with the small hints the young man had given him. And almost immediately, he saw the first thread connecting this predicament to Cain's network—and by extension, the mastermind operating across Castria, Xylanthia, and potentially other continents.
It was subtle: a series of offshore accounts linked through a series of shell corporations, small transfers at odd intervals, and a pattern in legal filings that didn't add up to anyone observing casually. Aldric's mind worked faster than the screens could refresh. Every connection, every hint, was a piece of the puzzle—and it pointed toward a man who had operated in the shadows for decades.
And Aldric understood something crucial: this was more than a legal problem. It was a web of corruption, influence, and carefully controlled chaos. One wrong move, and the young man's life, and potentially many others, would be at risk.
He glanced at the clock. Four days. Plenty of time—if he moved with the precision of the mind he had cultivated over years.
Aldric's brown eyes darkened with focus. "Let's see who you really are," he muttered to himself.
The game had begun. And in Xylanthia, the shadows were long, the stakes higher, and every move calculated.