XXXIX - Stage Set, Puppets Ready

I bustled about the kitchen, whipping up a round of refreshing strawberry and orange juice – with a secret little addition, of course. A splash of Joachim's blood, just to give the rejuvenating elixir that extra little kick.

Once I'd doled out the crimson-tinged concoction, we each retreated to our own corners, taking turns under the hot spray of the shower. The tension was palpable, but I could sense a growing sense of focus, a shared determination settling over us like a well-worn cloak.

When we reconvened in the living room, I presented my friends with their new getups – a striking uniform, reminiscent of the old World War II captain's army garb, all sharp lines and black tones save for the splash of vibrant crimson. The piece de resistance, though, were the sleek, black metallic masks, designed to obscure our identities and strike fear into the hearts of our enemies.

Adorned in our new armor, we settled into the plush cushions, an unspoken anticipation hanging thick in the air. "The plan hasn't changed," I announced, my gaze sweeping across the assembled group. "Even if it's deviated a bit."

I leaned forward, my voice filled with outmost confidence. "Tomorrow, at 10 a.m., we'll be kidnapping the President of the United States. We'll be on-site by 5 a.m., scoping out the area. Psyche's gonna teleport us right into the sewers under the location where the President will be delivering his speech."

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "Google Maps has the coordinates we need. All we have to do is get in, get the job done, and get out. Simple as that."

The others exchanged glances, a mix of trepidation and resolve etched across their features. But I knew, deep down, that they were with me – come hell or high water, we would see this plan through to its conclusion.

"The plan was simple enough on paper, and executing it would be easy too.

First, we would need to scout the area and identify where those goddamn snipers were holed up. Lucky, my favorite slippery son of a bitch, would eliminate them remotely from the stinking sewers using his Django Unchained, then plant his own Gunners in their nests.

Next, Lavinia would work her dark magic, lacing one of the president's close guards with one of her hellish creations. I'd make the poor bastard sleep, then steal his uniform and identity. Dressed as one of them, I could waltz right up to the stage.

When the old man finished his speech, that's when things would get messy. I'd draw my katana and cut down the rest of the guards, then grab the president from behind. Canceling my camouflage, I'd reveal my true self - a faceless spectre in a black metal face mask, come to strike fear into their hearts or enlighten them.

If anyone tried to approach me, Lucky would then gun them down with his Gunners. Then I'd give them my speech, the one that would chill their bones. As I spoke, I'd conjure a maelstrom of razor-edged poker cards, a shimmering veil concealing the portal Psyche would open beneath my feet.

Down that hole we'd go - me, the president, a one-way ticket to my apartment. Simple. Clean. And darker than the blackest night, truly, a Houdini masterclass."

"Hold up a goddamn minute, Diablo," Lucky said, lighting a cigarette with a shaky hand. "You really expect this plan of yours to work? I mean I do trust you and all but shit man."

I glanced over at the wiry, wild-eyed man, taking in his tense posture. "What's the matter, Lucky? You gettin' cold feet?"

"Feet? Hell, I ain't got no feet left after what happened in the train. I was confident as fuck, that we would succeed, but what if we face a strong contract holder like Joachim when we try to kidnap old Joe?" he spat, taking a long drag. "I'm just tryna keep us all alive here, y'know?"

Lavinia placed a delicate hand on his arm, her voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of danger. "Lucky's right to be concerned, Eros. This is a risky operation, even for us. That train ride changed our view."

I felt Psyche's fingers tighten around mine, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. "He's right, though," she murmured. "We can't afford any mistakes. Too much is at stake."

Sighing, I pulled her close, inhaling the heady scent of her hair. "I know the risks, you all do. But this is our best shot to be recognized, to be leaders among sheep. We've planned it down to the last detail."

Lucky snorted, ashing his cigarette onto the ashtray. "Famous last words, Eros. You know how these things always go down - perfect on paper, cluster-fuck in reality."

"Lucky, listen. I have infinite tricks in my pockets, I am the Magician after all. and I do not put you in harm's way in this plan. I will be the one kidnapping the old man, if anything goes wrong, you are free to leave me alone, I can manage." I growled, feeling the familiar edges of my temper start to fray. " This is our chance to take to finally be free, to make a difference in our mundane life."

The room fell silent, save for the crackle of Lucky's cigarette. I could see the gears turning in their heads, weighing the odds, the risks, the potential rewards.

Finally, Lavinia nodded, her eyes gleaming with a dark resolve. "Alright, Eros. We're with you. But you'd better have one hell of a backup plan."

I felt the exhaustion weigh heavy on my bones, the adrenaline crash leaving me hollow and drained. Psyche must have seen it in my face, because she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"Time to rest, Eros," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "We'll wake you when it's time."

Looking around at the tired, wary faces of my comrades, I knew they needed this respite as much as I did.

"Alright," I relented, already feeling the pull of sleep tugging at the edges of my consciousness. "Five o'clock. Don't be late."

Lucky let out a humorless chuckle. "Wouldn't dream of it, boss. Now get your ass to bed before I have to drag you there."

I shot him a halfhearted glare, but the corner of my mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. "Don't tempt me, Lucky."

With one last squeeze of Psyche's hand, I allowed myself to be led to my bedroom. My bed may as well have been the most luxurious bed in all the land after that fight to death.

As my head hit the pillow, I felt the tension seep from my muscles, the world around me fading into blessed oblivion. Psyche's fingers carded gently through my hair, the familiar gesture lulling me deeper into the embrace of slumber.

"Sleep well, love," she whispered, her breath ghosting across my cheek. "We'll be ready when you wake."

And with that, I surrendered myself to the darkness, knowing that when I opened my eyes again, the real fight would begin...