Conquer The World, And In Doing So, Conquer Me

As Cian stomped on the letter, its contents continued to haunt his thoughts. He couldn't shake off the impact of its words, regretting ever having read it in the first place.

The letter began with a simple greeting, a mundane opening that belied the weight of its message. Cian wished he had never laid eyes on it.

[To my beloved son, Cian.

If you are reading this letter, it means that I am no longer among the living.

No, rather, it means that your plan has succeeded. Congratulations on your petty revenge for that woman. It seems your vendetta has reached its conclusion.

I suppose I should commend you for maneuvering me into this situation, but I must say, I am disappointed in the outcome.

You see, there were many paths you could have taken, but your decision to inform Andrei about my plans to dominate the world using augmented humans was a grave mistake.

Not only did it lead Andrei down a similar path, but it also unknowingly revealed your existence to him.

Nevertheless, I must admit that your plan did succeed, despite its flaws. So, once again, congratulations.

However, let me enlighten you, Cian. I am not foolish enough to allow your plan to unfold exactly as you envisioned. Oh no, hehe. I have merely played along, deliberately allowing myself to be cornered by you...

You see, my dear Cian, I knew of your plans from the very beginning. It was not by mere chance or oversight that you believed yourself to be in control. No, it was a carefully crafted illusion that I wove around you, like a spider spinning its web.

Every step you took, every move you made, I orchestrated with precision. I allowed you to believe that you were pulling the strings, that you were the mastermind behind our little game. But in reality, it was I who held the true power, manipulating your every action from the shadows.

I must admit, it was quite entertaining to watch you play your part so convincingly. Your arrogance and confidence were the perfect ingredients for my grand deception. Oh, how you reveled in the belief that you had outsmarted me, that you were orchestrating my downfall. Little did you know, it was all a part of my plan.

You see, my dear son, I wanted you to believe that you were the puppeteer, for it served my purpose well. While you were busy dancing to the tune I composed, I was silently pulling the strings, guiding our twisted narrative towards its ultimate climax.

I reveled in your audacity, your misguided belief that you could bring me to my knees. It amused me to watch you scheme, to witness the fire of revenge burning within your eyes. But it was always within my control, my dear Cian. I allowed your thirst for vengeance to consume you, knowing that it would ultimately lead to your own undoing.

So, my son, as you stand there, reading this letter, pondering the depth of your perceived victory, remember that it was all part of my grand design. Your triumph was but an illusion, a carefully constructed mirage that crumbled at the touch of my invisible hand.

Do not mistake my words for the ramblings of a defeated man. No, I am far from defeated. I have merely allowed you to believe that you have won, that you have bested me in this game we have played for far too long. But mark my words, Cian, the true battle has only just begun.

Oh, how your eyes must widen in disbelief as you read these words. I can almost hear your thoughts racing, your anger mounting, and your desire for revenge intensifying. But do pause for a moment and allow me to enlighten you further.

You see, my son, the greatest revenge you could ever enact upon me is not by taking my life or ending my reign. No, it goes far beyond that. It lies in the realm of true power, the one thing I sought to grasp with an iron grip—the conquest of the world.

Yes, Cian, the irony is not lost on me. The very goal I had set for myself, the ambition that fueled my every move, is now the pinnacle of your revenge. Can you not see the poetic justice in this grand twist of fate?

So, my dear boy, I implore you to rise above the primal urge for bloodshed and destruction. Instead, channel your brilliance and cunning towards a different path—one that will bring me to my knees in a way that even death cannot accomplish. Conquer the world, Cian. Take what I desired most and make it your own.

Imagine the satisfaction that will wash over you as you stand upon the throne of a world you have single-handedly subdued. The power coursing through your veins, the knowledge that you have surpassed your own father in the grandest of ways—it will be an unparalleled triumph.

And only then, when the world is firmly within your grasp, will I acknowledge my defeat. In that moment, as you bask in the glory of your conquest, I will bow my head and recognize the brilliance that lies within you. For what greater victory could there be than to surpass the one who believed himself to be untouchable?

I can almost hear your incredulous laughter as you read these words. The audacity of my proposition must surely make you question my sanity. But rest assured, I am perfectly sane, my dear Cian. I am merely reveling in the sheer brilliance of this final act.

So, my son, I leave you with this challenge—a challenge that will test your intellect, your cunning, and your resolve. Conquer the world, and in doing so, conquer me. Show me that you are more than just a pawn in my grand design.

I am eager to see how far you will go, how high you will rise. The world is your stage now, Cian, and I eagerly await the unfolding of this new chapter. Prove to me that you are more than just a vessel of my manipulation. Prove to me that you are capable of standing on your own, of surpassing the very limits of my control.

I eagerly await the day when you will stand as the ruler of all, my son. May the weight of the world be your greatest weapon, and may your reign be a testament to the downfall of your ever-present father.

With a mocking chuckle and a twisted sense of joy,

Ciel Lambhart]

The revelation struck Cian like a thunderbolt, etching its mark deep within his soul. His father's manipulative games, the intricate web of control he had woven, became painfully clear.

'So, you orchestrated your own downfall...just so you wouldn't lose to me? You made me believe I had outsmarted you, while all along you were pulling the strings, making me dance in your palm?! You truly are despicable, a swine even in death.'

As he replayed their final chess match in his mind, the pieces on the board took on new meaning. His father's subtle gestures, the carefully crafted illusion of defeat—every move was a calculated taunt, mocking Cian's intelligence and resilience. He had been a mere pawn in Ciel's grand scheme, unaware that the game was rigged from the start.

"So this is your twisted victory, father," Cian muttered through gritted teeth. "You wanted me to believe I had outsmarted you, while all along, it was your master plan unfolding before my very eyes. You played me like a puppet, dancing to your tune even in death. How despicable."

But amidst the seething anger and bitterness, a perverse sense of determination took hold. If his father sought to control the world, then it would be the greatest revenge to wrest that control from him. Cian would not succumb to the urge for mindless destruction. No, he would channel his intellect and strategic prowess towards a higher purpose.

A wicked smile curled upon his lips as he imagined the day when he would stand atop the world, its nations bowing to his authority. The power coursing through his veins, the knowledge that he had surpassed the very man who believed himself untouchable—such a triumph would be sweeter than any act of vengeance.

"You want me to take over the world, father? Very well. I will seize it with an iron grip, bending nations to my will. And when I sit upon the throne of ultimate power, I want you to witness it. Rise from your grave, or ascend from the depths of hell if you must, and kneel before me. Acknowledge your defeat at the hands of your own son."

With every word spoken, a fire ignited within Cian's core. The legacy of his father's deceit would serve as the fuel for his ascension. He would dismantle the intricate network of control, shattering the illusions of power his father had crafted. The world would become his domain, and Ciel Lambhart would forever be relegated to the dust of history.

"And when I achieve what you could never accomplish, father, remember this moment. Remember that your own downfall was the catalyst for my rise. You may have played your final move, but the game is far from over. I will conquer, I will rule, and I will ensure that your twisted legacy crumbles beneath the weight of my triumph."

The stage was set, and the final act was about to begin. Cian Lambhart, the puppet turned puppeteer, would shape the world in his own image, breaking free from the shackles of his father's control. The mocking laughter of Ciel's letter echoed in his mind, serving as a constant reminder of the battle that lay ahead.

•••••

As Cian lay in his bed, unable to sleep, a twisted smirk adorned his face. Thoughts of world domination consumed his mind, filling him with a sense of exhilaration. Just as he contemplated his next move, a knock echoed through the room.

"Who is it?" he called out.

"It's Maya, young master," came the reply from the other side of the door.

Cian glanced at the pendulum clock and realized it was already past midnight. "Come on in," he beckoned, eager to see what Maya wanted at such a late hour.

The door creaked open, and Maya stepped into the room, still donned in her maid uniform. Cian raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why are you still wearing a maid uniform? It's nighttime, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is nighttime, but I am here to serve you, young master. It's only natural for me to be wearing the maid uniform, right?"

Cian's intrigue deepened as Maya approached him and sat down beside him on the bed. Leaning closer, she planted a sudden, unexpected kiss on his lips. Startled, Cian pulled back, a mixture of confusion and surprise etched across his face. "What's the meaning of this, Maya?" he asked, trying to regain his composure.

"I'm here to please you, young master," Maya whispered seductively. "To serve you with my body."

Cian's mind raced as he processed her words. She was offering herself to him, a proposition of physical intimacy. But why? What was her motive?

Without uttering a word, Maya began undressing herself, revealing her bare shoulder. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she spoke, "You may try to hide it, young master, but I can see beyond your facade. Deep down, you're hurting, aren't you? You haven't obtained the outcome you desired. Even after your father's death, you're still bound by his control. I can see the suffering in your eyes."

Cian's confusion deepened as he listened to Maya's words. "I can't understand what you're saying. I truly am enjoying myself. Why would I be hurt?"

Maya's gaze softened, her expression filled with compassion. "Even if you deny it, young master, your eyes betray you. They reveal a pain that you try to suppress. But I can sense it, feel it. And I'm here to offer solace, to alleviate that suffering."