CHAPTER 213: CHAPTER 213: THE DRIVE TO DAMNATION

The city blurred past in streaks of gold and wet glass, every raindrop on the window catching the light like a warning. The car’s interior was quiet in that insulated, expensive way that swallowed every sound except the low hum of the engine. The sort of quiet that wasn’t peace, just the calm before something decided to go wrong.

Elias sat beside Victor in the back seat, trying to look composed and failing spectacularly. He’d dressed properly, pressed shirt, dark slacks, and a jacket he didn’t remember agreeing to wear, but the collar itched and the fabric felt too heavy. Even the air in the car seemed too thick, laced with Victor’s scent, smoke, static, and that faint undertone that always reminded Elias of iris petals after rain. It clung to him, soft and sharp at once, wrapping around the edges of his nerves until he could barely tell what was his heartbeat and what was Victor’s.

Across the seat, Victor looked infuriatingly calm. Perfect posture, suit immaculate, hand resting loosely on his knee like the world couldn’t touch him. He wasn’t looking at his phone or any report. He was just there, radiating that unbothered, divine composure that made Elias want to either shake him or crawl into his coat.

"Relax," Victor said at last, voice low and even. "He won’t hurt you."

Elias turned his head just enough to glare. "You’ve said that three times, and somehow it’s becoming less convincing."

Victor’s lips twitched. "Would you prefer I lie?"

"God, yes."

Victor’s faint laugh filled the space between them, soft but too knowing. "Noted."

Elias exhaled slowly, pressing his palm against the smooth leather seat. The windows were tinted almost black, but he could still see the city sliding away behind them, each light a fragment of something ordinary that he was rapidly leaving behind. Somewhere in his pocket, his phone buzzed again.

Ruo: You’ll be fine.

Another message followed a second later.

Ruo: We’re all in hell together.

And then, just as the driver turned onto the private road cutting through the hills... Ruo: If he offers you tea, don’t drink it.

Elias stifled a groan. "Your sister has the same sense of humor you do."

"She gets it from our father," Victor replied, completely serious.

"That’s reassuring." Elias shifted in his seat, the tension sitting heavy across his shoulders. "Why am I stressed about this? You’re the god in the family. Shouldn’t he be the one sweating?"

Victor’s gaze flicked from the window to Elias, the faintest glint of amusement behind his eyes. "He doesn’t sweat either."

"That’s not comforting," Elias muttered.

"Wasn’t meant to be."

Elias gave him a flat look, then turned back to the glass, watching the rain streak sideways across the tinted surface. The reflection staring back at him didn’t look like someone prepared for a divine family dinner. He looked like a man on his way to be audited by the cosmos.

The car curved through the hills, the city’s lights fading behind them until there was only the dark blur of trees and the faint hum of ether coils buried in the road. He’d been in quiet cars before; Victor had a taste for them, but this silence was different.

"Is he that bad?" Elias asked after a moment.

Victor didn’t answer immediately. "He’s... efficient."

"That’s a terrible adjective for a person."

"It’s accurate."

Elias tilted his head, studying him. "So you’re telling me your father is terrifying."

"I’m telling you," Victor said, his tone turning faintly dry, "that he built empires out of obedience. You’ll be fine if you don’t start a philosophical debate at the dinner table."

Elias scoffed. "You say that like it’s avoidable."

Victor’s mouth curved, that rare, dangerous softness that almost counted as affection. "That’s what worries me."

The driver slowed the car as the road began to climb, mist thickening outside the windows. The estate came into view like something carved out of the storm itself: high walls of dark stone, towers glinting faintly with ward-light, and a gate that shimmered with the faint pulse of active runes.

Elias’s stomach twisted. "You are not terrified of Uno, The Creator, but of this man?"

Victor’s gaze didn’t leave the window, but something in his posture shifted, barely, a tightening of his shoulders that no human eye would have caught. "Uno is predictable," he said after a moment. "He’s chaos with a pattern. My father, on the other hand... is order without mercy."

Elias blinked, slowly turning toward him. "You realize that makes absolutely no sense and somehow still sounds terrifying."

Victor hummed, a quiet sound of agreement. "It’s accurate."

Outside, lightning crawled across the horizon, the sky opening just long enough to throw the mansion into stark relief. Black stone glistened wet, the architecture sharp enough to cut light itself. The rain didn’t seem to touch the estate directly, but it skirted around it, falling elsewhere, like even the storm understood boundaries.

Elias swallowed. "And here I thought meeting my advisor’s committee was stressful."

Victor glanced at him, the faintest ghost of amusement flickering across his features. "You’re handling this better than I expected."

"Oh, I’m screaming internally," Elias said dryly. "I’m just very well-trained at hiding existential dread."

Victor’s mouth curved, soft and quiet. "You’ve been spending too much time with me."

"That’s what worries me," Elias shot back. He turned back to the window, watching the world shift from the familiar hum of civilization to the haunting stillness of divine property. Even the trees seemed older here, older and less inclined to bend.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the steady rhythm of the rain and the low purr of the car’s engine as it slowed before the gate.

Elias exhaled. "So," he said finally, "what’s the plan?"

Victor didn’t hesitate. "We walk in. You breathe. He doesn’t insult you. I don’t destroy the estate."

Elias looked at him sidelong. "And if he does insult me?"

Victor’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Then we’ll have dinner elsewhere."

The gates began to open slowly, silently, with mechanical grace that only money or divinity could buy. The mist thickened, curling around the edges of the car, and the faint hum of wards brushed across Elias’s skin like a current testing for weakness.

He shivered. "You could’ve warned me it feels like being scanned by judgment itself."

Victor’s hand brushed his briefly, a small, steadying touch that felt absurdly human for someone who could fold reality on command. "Consider it good practice."

"For what?" Elias asked.

Victor’s gaze turned forward, eyes catching the first glow of the mansion’s lights. "For surviving my family."

Elias groaned under his breath, sinking back into the seat. "Perfect. I can’t wait to regret this outfit in front of divine royalty."

Victor’s laugh was quiet and low and carried both affection and something sharp beneath it. "You’ll do fine," he said, and the faint scent of smoke and iris deepened between them, like the promise of a storm refusing to die out.

The car rolled forward through the gates. Elias stared at the looming mansion ahead and muttered, mostly to himself, "I really should drink the tea Ruo warned me about."