The room they entered was dimly lit, the flickering bulb overhead casting erratic shadows across the cracked walls. It wasn’t a grand pce for a revetion—just a forgotten storage space in the back alleys of the city—but the weight of what Uncle Floris was about to say made it feel like a chamber of secrets.

  Satsujin Sha leaned against a dusty shelf, his sharp eyes fixed on Floris. The reunion’s warmth had waned, repced by the ever-present wariness that lived in his blood. Floris paced the room like a man who carried the world’s burdens on his shoulders, his polished shoes scraping against the grimy floor.

  “You’ve always been a thinker,” Floris began, his voice low but commanding. “But have you ever thought about the threads that connect us all? The invisible web of choices, emotions, and consequences that bind us in ways we can’t comprehend?”

  Satsujin raised an eyebrow, his patience already thinning. “If this is philosophy hour, Uncle, I don’t have the time.”

  Floris stopped pacing and turned, his eyes locking onto Satsujin’s with an intensity that made the younger man’s heart skip. “This isn’t philosophy, boy. It’s truth. And it’s time you learned yours.”

  Satsujin crossed his arms, his posture casual but his mind alert. “Then stop dancing around it and spit it out.”

  Floris let out a humorless chuckle. “You’ve changed, Satsujin. More direct. Less patient. Good. You’ll need that edge where you’re going.”

  “And where’s that?” Satsujin asked, his tone as sharp as the knives he carried.

  Floris stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Into a game. But not just any game—a game of love.”

  The words hung in the air, heavy and absurd. Satsujin blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “A game of love?” he repeated, his voice ced with disbelief.

  Floris nodded, his expression deadly serious. “Yes. And before you scoff, understand this: it’s not the kind of love you’re thinking of. It’s not about romance or passion. It’s about control, power, and the kind of emotions that make people do unspeakable things.”

  Satsujin’s mind raced, piecing together fragments of information that didn’t quite fit. “What does this have to do with me? Or Aira?”

  Floris’s smirk returned, but it was colder now, almost cruel. “Everything.”

  He walked to a dusty table in the corner and pulled out a stack of faded documents, ying them down with deliberate care. The papers were covered in intricate diagrams, handwritten notes, and photographs that made Satsujin’s stomach tighten.

  “Do you know what separates the strong from the weak, Satsujin?” Floris asked, his voice almost conversational as he flipped through the papers.

  Satsujin didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the documents.

  “It’s not strength,” Floris continued. “It’s not intelligence or ambition. It’s the ability to manipute the one thing everyone has in common: emotions. Love, hate, fear—they’re all just tools, boy. And you, whether you realize it or not, have been pying this game for a long time.”

  Satsujin’s gaze snapped to Floris. “What are you talking about?”

  Floris tapped a photograph on the table. It showed Satsujin and Aira, taken from a distance, their faces frozen in a moment of connection that now felt far more sinister.

  “You think you’ve been protecting her, don’t you?” Floris said, his tone mocking. “Keeping her close, shielding her from the darkness you’ve embraced. But what you’ve really been doing is setting the stage for this game. Aira isn’t just a bystander in your story, Satsujin. She’s a pyer. And so are you.”

  Satsujin felt a cold knot form in his stomach. “And what’s your role in all this?”

  Floris’s smirk deepened. “I’m the one who sets the rules.”

  He leaned back against the table, his posture rexed but his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “The game isn’t just about you and Aira. It’s about what you represent: two sides of the same coin. Love and destruction. Creation and chaos. Together, you’re a force that can change everything. But only if you survive what’s coming.”

  Satsujin’s jaw tightened. “What’s coming?”

  Floris gestured to the documents. “The first move has already been made. By bringing Aira into your world, you’ve set the game in motion. And now, others are watching. Waiting. They’ll come for her, Satsujin. Not because of who she is, but because of what she means to you.”

  The knot in Satsujin’s stomach twisted tighter. “And what am I supposed to do? Protect her? Py your game?”

  Floris’s smile faded, repced by a grim seriousness. “You’ll do what you’ve always done: survive. But this time, you won’t be able to do it alone. Aira is more than just a pawn in this game, Satsujin. She’s your partner. And together, you’ll either win... or destroy each other.”

  Satsujin took a step back, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He had always prided himself on his ability to stay two steps ahead, to anticipate every move and counter it. But this? This was a game he hadn’t even known he was pying.

  And yet, as he looked at Floris—this man who had returned from the shadows to upend his world—Satsujin felt something unexpected: a spark of determination.

  “If this is a game,” he said slowly, his voice steady, “then tell me one thing: who’s the real enemy?”

  Floris’s eyes gleamed, and for the first time, Satsujin saw a flicker of something that looked almost like pride.

  “That,” Floris said, his voice low and enigmatic, “is for you to find out.”

  The room fell into silence, the weight of the revetion settling over them like a shroud. Outside, the city continued its restless hum, oblivious to the game that had just begun.

  And as Satsujin Sha stood there, staring into the abyss of the unknown, one thing became clear: the rules of this game were as cruel as they were simple. Trust no one. Feel nothing. Win at all costs.

  For in the game of love, the stakes were always life and death.