Ascension Of The Villain

Vyan scanned the perimeter, searching for the familiar hole in the wall until he finally spotted it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "My ticket to ruin another perfectly good outfit." He glanced down at his clothes and shook his head in resignation. There was no doubt about it; they were about to get absolutely trashed.

With the grace of someone who had snuck through more holes in walls than he would care to admit, Vyan slipped into the passage Iyana had once shown him. It was their secret escape route for wh she was too swamped with work to ev grab a bite.

It briefly made him wonder why she always worked so hard if her ultimate goal was always to become the empress.

"Ugh, who cares? I will never understand her," he grumbled.

As he crept through the narrow tunnel, memories of Iyana's thorough tour of the base flitted through his mind, providing a mtal map straight to her office. The good old days of espionage and fridship tours.

Vyan knew Iyana's patterns well ough to predict her every move. She must have stashed the evidce in her office safe before submitting it to the Tower of Magic the next morning, ev if it meant a late-night rdezvous with her paperwork.

After all, work never followed her home—probably because she didn't trust her family a her official business.

Dodging the guards without any magical assistance, Vyan grumbled under his breath. "Seriously, who does undercover work without magic? Oh, right, me."

Thankfully, the late hour meant fewer guards to avoid as he made his way from the gard to Iyana's office.

Slipping through an op window, he conjured a small ball of fire to light his way. Iyana was nowhere to be se, likely having retreated home for the night. "Or maybe she finally snapped and ran off to join the asylum," he mused.

His gaze fell on the safe, and he moved toward it with light steps. Just as he was about to punch in the lock combination, a thought hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Wait a minute. Why was the window op so convitly?" As he pondered this, flashes of Iyana always working with an op window behind her danced through his mind. "Oh, for the love of—"

Just th, he heard the door creak op and, without a second thought, he dove out of the window like a cat avoiding a bath.

Iyana strolled into her office, flicked on the lights, and gave the room a quick once-over before heading to her desk.

She pulled out a cigar from the drawer with the grace of a villainous landlord and lit it with a flick of her lighter. Leaning against the windowsill, she muttered a curse under her breath.

"Asshole," she growled, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Who does he think he is? Stupid misogynistic bastard."

She took a few more drags, eyes fixed on the horizon, completely unaware of the figure standing just outside the window, hand clamped over his mouth, trying not to gag.

Internally, Vyan screamed, Why are you smoking out here of all places?

The acrid stch of the cigar assaulted his sses, making him feel like he was trapped in a burning dumpster. He had always hated that smell. It was almost as if she knew he was there and was doing this just to annoy him.

Iyana rested her head on her elbows and sighed heavily. "Ugh. I just want to go home. It's be ages since I have spt time with my family."

Vyan's eyebrows shot up. Don't you hate your family? he wondered siltly.

"They were all so sweet to me," she murmured softly. "I want to spd more time with them wh I get home today."

Vyan's confusion reached new heights. What parallel universe did I fall into?

Iyana had always loathed her family, and they had treated her like she was a distant, unpleasant relative as well—like the one who showed up uninvited to every holiday dinner.

Could they have reconciled? The thought seemed as probable as a dragon joining a knitting club, though.

"I should start working," Iyana declared, shattering Vyan's train of thought. "I need to get my work done so I can take the day off to rest. Maybe I can go shopping with S today."

Maybe they did reconcile, Vyan mused briefly before dismissing the thought. Whatever the truth, it wasn't his concern. He was going to ruin her and her family either way.

"Ugh, but I am so tired," Iyana groaned, flicking the cigar butt out the window and slapping her cheeks to wake herself up.

Oblivious to where the burning cigar landed, she continued, "That stupid mage really drained me. I need to start now and get this over with."

As she turned towards her desk, Vyan fought the urge to scream as the cigar burned a hole right through his shoe. He discreetly kicked it away wh her back was turned, clching his fists in frustration.

"She makes me want to kill her right this instant," he muttered under his breath.

Seating himself on the grass, he leaned against the wall, waiting for Iyana to finish her work so he could swap the hair strands.

Hours ticked by, with Iyana absorbed in her tasks, and before Vyan knew it, he had dozed off.

The morning rays pierced through his eyelids, yanking him out of his unintded slumber.

Blinking groggily, Vyan surveyed his surings. The towering wall loomed before him, and confusion quickly morphed into panic.

Great job, gius, he berated himself. Falling asleep in emy territory. Why not just wear a sign that says 'Arrest me, please'?

Clutching his hair in frustration, he shook his head and rose to his feet. Peering through the window, he was stunned to find Iyana still at her desk, now peacefully asleep.

This is my chance, he thought, his heart racing.

Taking a calculated risk, Vyan slipped siltly through the window. With careful steps, he approached the safe and input the familiar combination. To his relief, it oped without a hitch.

The same password as her home safe, he mused. She must have thought I would be dead long before I could ever use this against her.

Inside, he found a transpart packet containing blonde hair, the ones that would revert to Clyde's original color wh he transformed back. Swiftly, Vyan made the switch with Lyon's guine locks. Now, if they were tested, they would be used against Lyon.

As he closed the safe noiselessly and prepared to leave, he couldn't help but glance back at Iyana.

However, once his gaze landed on Iyana's sleeping form, he could not look away.

For a momt, a softed expression crept across his features as he observed her innoct face, bathed in the morning light. A droplet of drool escaped her parted lips, staining the papers beath her arms.

His hand reached out instinctively, hovering over her face, tempted to caress her skin as though she were made of delicate glass.

"Looking at you pulling an all-nighter," he whispered, a wry smile lingering on his lips. "Why work so hard if you are just going to d up quitting for the sake of wearing the crown?"

But reality snapped back like a rubber band, and his gaze harded. Her innocce was a façade, masking a selfish, twisted soul beath.

His hand traveled down towards her neck, the urge to harm her simmering beath his skin. If only he could just grab that neck and d it all right here...

But he knew it wouldn't give him peace. "I hate you so much," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with raw emotion and searing pain.

With bloodshot eyes fixed on her for a momt longer, he turned away and leaped out of the window, leaving behind the slumbering figure and his turbult thoughts.

After a few minutes of Vyan's exit, the doors creaked op with Elijah's ninja-like finesse.

Instantly alert, Iyana's head snapped up, her gaze sharp, and her hand instinctively reached for the hilt of her sword. Upon recognizing her overly cautious subordinate, she relaxed.

"Oh, Elijah. What brings you here? Is it time for the morning training session?"

Elijah sighed with the weight of a thousand unfiled documts, "Didn't mean to disturb your beauty sleep, Vice-Commander. I just needed to quietly retrieve a few files. You know, the usual all-nighter paper chase."

Iyana shook her head, amusemt dancing in her eyes. "You know my instincts. You can never sneak up on me," she remarked with a shrug. "Besides, I can't sleep with someone else in the room."

Her smile faltered briefly as she pondered the absce of anyone she would feel comfortable sharing her space with. Not that she remembered anyone like that.

As Elijah sifted through the chaos on her desk, he couldn't resist a jibe, "I wonder how you will cope with married life."

Iyana chuckled wryly and said, "I suppose it will be more like the insomniac life."