CHAPTER TEN: THE FOOL WHO PLAYED THE THRONE
Eden's Spire Council Chamber was never still.
The room itself shifted as he entered, alive with divine glass and kinetic metal that reconfigured in response to thought, intent, and unspoken judgment. The air shimmered, bending light around lies and truth alike, like prayer folded around a blade.
At its center stood six thrones, high-backed and brutal, humming faintly with ancient authority. The highest seat belonged to Zero, of course. Below him, the others waited... the ones who had ruled Eden since the day the world cracked open.
This was the council that had rebuilt humanity, fought the Akuma back from the brink, and carved Eden into the last habitable sanctuary on Earth.
Genna Vrae. Sera Velorian. Callus Greaven. Yulan Ishtar. Zero. And the silent sixth, whom nobody dared name aloud.
Sin-bound. World-forged. Untouchable.
And then, of course, Mr. P arrived.
He didn't walk. He strolled.
Late, as expected.
His tie was crooked, his shoes didn't match, and he wore sunglasses that belonged on a beach somewhere instead of the most secure room in Eden. He carried his battered red thermos, its label scrawled in black marker: Nuclear Coffee... Do Not Shake.
"Gentlebeasts," he announced as the doors sealed shut behind him. He bowed deeply, theatrically. "I come bearing sins, stupidity, and solutions. In that order."
Nobody laughed.
Except him.
Genna Vrae's jaw flexed first. Her sleeveless coat creaked faintly as she leaned forward, embers rising faintly from her fingers.
"You exceeded your clearance in the Akuma core vaults," she said coldly.
From her psionic throne, Sera Velorian spoke next, her translucent skin faintly glowing as her voice slipped through the air like oil.
"You tampered with the neural dampeners in Luther's chamber without authorization."
Callus Greaven was next. The tinkerer waved a glowing holographic tablet lazily in one hand, smudged with circuitry dust.
"And," Callus added, "you falsified Naomi Matsumoto's autopsy record. Creative, but still illegal Mr. P.... Seventeen bylaws, to be exact."
At the far end, Yulan Ishtar tilted her head, her hair writhing faintly like dark smoke. Her lips barely parted as her voice curled out, low and strange.
"And yet here you stand."
Mr. P sighed dramatically and conjured a chair from thin air, slumping into it backward. He spun his thermos in his fingers, unbothered.
"Didn't realize this was a roast," he said casually.
He took a long sip.
"Alright. Akuma core vault? Not me... cross my heart, That was definitely Clone 47 his a little creep. Don't ask."
Another sip.
"Neural dampeners? Well. Funny story. I spilled coffee on the interface. Weird day. Next thing you know, Luther stops screaming about babies in his sleep. You're welcome, by the way my love."
He let the silence stretch before continuing, and for once his grin faltered just a little.
"And Naomi," he said softly.
The pause was deliberate.
"She was too perfect to cut open. Some things deserve to stay holy."
Genna's voice cut the air like steel.
"You think this is funny Paku?"
"I know it is," Mr. P said, finally meeting her eyes. "The punchline just hasn't landed yet."
From his throne at the apex, Zero remained silent. He didn't move. He didn't speak. But his half-lidded eyes stayed fixed on Paku Shinomiya, watching the grin, the calculated pauses, the dance of self-sabotage and sharp precision masquerading as foolishness.
He smiled faintly to himself.
You haven't changed, Paku. Not one bit.
The laughter in Mr. P's voice vanished when he finally stood.
"Alright. You want serious? Fine."
He snapped his fingers, and a projection bloomed above the center of the room... a crystalline lattice spinning slowly, its edges glowing with sacred circuitry and biomechanical glyphs.
"I call it the Divine Resonance Feedback Loop," he said.
"It's a stabilizer thank you very much... We seed it directly into Luther's bloodstream. It ties into his lattice. Reconfigurable remotely, failsafe by design. Install it, and you won't have to worry about his little… moods anymore. No more rampages. No more bishops wetting themselves every time he frowns."
The room went still.
Sera's faint psionic hum deepened.
Callus leaned forward, his greedy fingers twitching.
Yulan's head tilted slightly, one dark eye glinting faintly. Even Genna, still seething, said nothing.
Mr. P's grin sharpened as he let them absorb it.
"And here's the bonus feature. It doubles as a hub. Think of it as a holy USB drive. It records his divine data every time Luther crosses a dimensional threshold. Neat little archive for your records."
What he didn't say was that it would also siphon data from Zero's Ascension Circuit, feeding him every divine ratio and hidden coordinate of godhood itself.
Yulan finally murmured, her voice velvet and venom.
"If it fails, we lose him."
Mr. P smiled faintly and shrugged.
"Then don't let it fail."
Genna leaned forward, fire curling faintly around her hands.
"You're walking a knife's edge, Shinomiya."
He stepped forward, closer to the table, his eyes flat and bright now.
"I am the knife," he said.
The murmurs of the other Observers rippled faintly through the chamber, but Zero only watched. His faint smile widened.
Because he could see it all... he knew all the lies, the precision, the way Paku manipulated the cracks in every mind at the table.
He admired it.
He's lying to everyone, Zero thought.
Everyone but himself. Beautiful.
When the council finally adjourned, the thrones went dark one by one.
Greed smirked faintly.
Envy's translucent eyes flicked once toward Zero before she left.
Wrath's knuckles cracked like dry wood.
Zero gave Mr. P the faintest of nods. Approval, or warning.. it was impossible to tell.
Mr. P returned it with a mock salute, spinning on his heel as he left the chamber.
The doors sealed behind him.
The steam of Eden's lower corridors hissed and curled through the air as he lit a cigarette, tie still crooked, the faintest of smirks on his lips.
Clone 48 materialized at his side, carrying his thermos dutifully.
"That went well," the clone said nervously.
Mr. P exhaled a curl of smoke and glanced at the spires above.
"Of course it did," he murmured. "They're playing cards with the man who built the deck, burned half the suits, and replaced the king with a grenade."
He took the thermos, sipping absently.
Then added, just quietly enough for himself.
"But one of them knows."
Clone 48 blinked at him.
"Which one?"
Mr. P smirked faintly, already vanishing into the haze.
"Ohh my beautiful duplicate, That," he said, "is what makes it fun."
...
END OF CHAPTER 10