Page 149 of Villainous Intent

I looked down and realized I’d been clenching my hands so tightly that my nails had broken skin. I was trembling and couldn’t seem to stop. The memory of his touch made my skin crawl, the sensation of his hand on my thigh burned like a brand. I fought to keep my breathing steady as phantom pressure closed around my throat again, as the burning of that hand shoved my dress up.

The arena lights went out and the Nexus was plunged into absolute darkness. The crowd fell silent in anticipation.

“And now,” the announcer’s voice cut through the silence, somehow both quieter and more intense than before, “the technological terror, the genius of destruction, CIPHER!”

Instead of his usual dramatic light show and technological display, a single beam of light cut through the darkness, illuminating Cipher as he stood motionless at his entrance. The drones and lasers that always dazzled the crowd weren’t there. It was just him, standing perfectly still as the light caught the edges of his suit. The glowing accents on his armor pulsed like a heartbeat.

I’d watched every one of Cipher’s entrances, even rewatched them. This was different in a way that made the back of my neck prickle. The crowd recognized it too as their roar built from confusion to excitement.

Cipher strode forward and the light followed him as he moved toward the combat platform, casting long shadows that reached toward Baron Ash like grasping fingers.

Cipher hadn’t been lying when he said he was a dramatic bitch, he always played to the crowd and reveled in their adoration. But tonight, there was no acknowledgement of the crowd or their cheers. Every step lacked his usual flourishes, the singular focus of his attention on Baron Ash. If this wasn’t the Cipher who delighted in spectacle, who was he?

The arena transformed around the pair, the white surface disappearing beneath a rising cityscape of gleaming metal and neon. Holographic buildings shot up from the floor, creating a futuristic urban landscape complete with flickering street signs and hovering vehicles frozen in mid-air.

Baron Ash stood at one end of a wide boulevard, flames dancing across his fingertips, while Cipher remained motionless at the other. The announcer’s voice boomed through the Nexus, explaining the rules of engagement, but I barely heard him.

These matches typically lasted thirty minutes or more. Three grueling rounds where the combatants would test each other’s limits before delivering the final blow. I’d watched Cipher fight enough times to know his pattern: deploy drones, analyze weaknesses, tire his opponent out, then strike.

But after that entrance, the tight, twisting pressure in my chest made me think that everything about tonight was going to be different.

Begin!” The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena.

Cipher moved first, a blur of black and glowing blue. No deployment of drones, just pure, unrestrained speed as he crossed the distance between them. Baron Ash didn’t even have time to summon his flames properly.

“What the—” Baron Ash’s surprised exclamation over the speakers was cut short by Cipher’s fist connecting with his jaw. The impact sounded like a thunderclap, echoing through the arena.

Ash staggered backward, blood already streaming from beneath his mask. He recovered quickly and I screamed, half-rising from my seat as he summoned walls of flame that engulfed Cipher.

When the flames receded, Cipher stood untouched, not even his suit was singed. Without hesitation, he grabbed Baron Ash’s arm, the same one that had forced its way under my skirt yesterday, and twisted. The crack of breaking bone echoed through the arena, followed immediately by Ash’s howl of pain.

The ghost of his rough hands on my thigh vanished, replaced by the sound of his agony.

The crowd roared their approval, surging to their feet. Unlike the choreographed combat they were used to, this was raw violence, and they were drinking it in.

Baron Ash fought back and managed to land a single blow to Cipher’s face. Cipher didn’t even flinch.

He broke Baron Ash’s other arm, then both legs, in quick succession. He shattered the limbs that had pinned me to the wall, that had trapped me while I struggled. The sounds of shattering bone punctuated the Villain’s screams, creating a grotesque rhythm that had the crowd stomping and cheering.

“Oh God,” I whispered. I pressed my hand against my mouth to hold back a sob that wasn’t quite fear and sank back into my seat.

Baron Ash lay broken on the ground, his flames flickering weakly around him. “Wait,” he gasped, his voice barely audible through the arena’s speakers. “I yield⁠—”

Cipher reached down and lifted Baron Ash by his throat, one-handed, like he weighed nothing. He was holding him the way Ash had held me.

My own hand flew to my neck, covering the bruises Ash had left as the arena went eerily silent.

This wasn’t in the script. This wasn’t how these matches ended.

Baron Ash’s legs dangled uselessly, his broken arms hanging at unnatural angles. “Please—” he gurgled.

I knew what was coming. Every nerve in my body screamed to close my eyes, but they remained fixed on the scene below.

Cipher brought his other hand up to Baron Ash’s throat and his fingers dug in. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the air was being squeezed out of me all over again.

With one swift, terrible motion, Cipher separated Baron Ash’s head from his body.

The sound echoed through the arena and blood sprayed across the floor in a crimson arc.