* * *
"Master, are you inside? Please come out—something urgent has happened!"
A man shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation. His face was half-burned, his clothes in tatters, blood crusting around the tears in his sleeves and down his legs.
"You may not enter without identification," said one of the two armored guards standing before the door.
"Damn it, move aside! I already told you—my name is Kareem, I work under the Master!"
"Even so, we can't just allow you inside without proper clearance," the second guard replied, tone firm.
"Then summon the Master—Count Belmont—right now! This is important!"
The two guards exchanged a wary glance. One shifted his stance, the other tilted his head toward the door as if debating what to do.
"You think I'm joking?! Today's shipment might not even happen, damn it!"
His voice cracked with urgency, the kind only a man with nothing left could muster.
Creak.
The door slowly opened.
Count Belmont appeared in the frame.
