Chapter 42

    Burke wasn’t the man I remembered.

    He was more, and he was less. The Burke I had known years ago was cunning, ruthless, a shadow in the city’s dark places. But now, as he stood before me, he felt different—larger, almost mythic, as if he had grown into something I couldn’t quite name. The room around him felt charged, thick with unspoken promises and hidden threats, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was standing in the presence of something far older, far more powerful than I’d ever imagined.

    "Baal," I whispered under my breath, the name slipping out before I could stop it.

    Burke smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Careful, Sid," he said, his voice low, almost reverent. "Names have power."

    The room was dimly lit, shadows clinging to the walls like ghosts, and in the half-light, Burke’s face looked strange, almost otherworldly. His eyes held a gleam I didn’t recognize, a cold fire that made me think of ancient things, of gods and sacrifices, of altars where men like him had once wielded power that defied reason. Baal. The name fit, and I wasn’t sure whether that scared me or thrilled me.

    Around him, they stood silent—the ones who had followed him here, the ones who looked at him with something close to worship in their eyes. They were all here, the “mute harlots” who had given themselves over to him, who would do anything he asked without question, without hesitation. They moved like shadows, drifting in and out of the room, their faces blank, their eyes fixed on him as though he were the sun, and they, the planets orbiting in his light.

    I felt a strange sense of vertigo, like I was slipping, falling into something I couldn’t control. The room, the people, the man who had once been Burke—it all felt like a fever dream, surreal and intoxicating, and I had to fight to keep my footing, to remember why I was here.

    "Why now, Burke?" I asked, my voice sounding small, almost insignificant in the charged silence of the room. "Why come back now?"

    He tilted his head, regarding me with that cold, unreadable smile. "Because it’s time," he said simply. "The city is ripe for change, and I’m here to guide it."

    "Guide it to what?"

    He shrugged, his gaze drifting toward the silent followers who moved around him like ghosts. "To its destiny. To power. The city has been sleeping, Sid, but it’s waking up now. And when it does..." He trailed off, his smile widening, as though he could already see the future, could already taste the power he was reaching for.

    "You sound like a god," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

    Burke’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, I thought I saw something ancient in his gaze, something dark and hungry, a hint of the man I had once known, twisted and transformed into something far more dangerous. "Maybe I am," he said softly. "Or maybe I’m just the one who knows how to use the power that’s already here."

    I felt a chill run down my spine, a sense of foreboding that I couldn’t shake. Burke was playing a game, one I didn’t understand, and for the first time, I realized that Achilles had only been a piece on the board, just one of many in the grand scheme Burke was weaving.

    "What do you want from me, Burke?" I asked, my voice steady despite the unease churning in my gut.

    He looked at me, his gaze penetrating, as though he could see the questions swirling in my mind, the doubts, the fears. "I want you to join me, Sid," he said, his voice low and persuasive. "The city is changing, and you can be part of it. Or you can be left behind."

    I shook my head, my mind reeling. "I’m not interested in whatever you’re planning, Burke. I’m not a pawn in your game."

    He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "You’ve always been part of the game, Sid," he said. "Whether you know it or not."

    The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the weight of his words, and I struggled to breathe, to keep my thoughts clear. Burke was more than a man now; he was a force, a symbol, a god of his own making, and I could feel the pull of his power, the way it drew people to him, bending them to his will.

    "Baal," I whispered again, the name feeling both absurd and fitting in the same breath.

    Burke’s smile faded, and he looked at me with something close to pity. "You can call me what you like, Sid," he said, his voice soft, almost gentle. "But names are just words. And words are only as powerful as the belief behind them."

    I took a step back, the weight of the room pressing down on me, the faces of his silent followers staring at me with empty eyes. I didn’t know what game Burke was playing, didn’t know what role he wanted me to play, but I knew one thing for certain—I couldn’t stay here. Not with him. Not with this.

    I turned, forcing myself to walk away, even as his laughter echoed in my ears, a low, haunting sound that followed me out into the night.

    As I stepped into the cool night air, I felt the weight of his presence lift, the oppressive energy of the room fading into the background. But the unease lingered, a gnawing doubt that I couldn’t shake. Burke was back, and he wasn’t the man I’d known. He was something else now, something darker, something that felt disturbingly close to divinity.

    I walked through the empty streets, the name Baal echoing in my mind, the weight of Burke’s gaze still heavy on my shoulders. He was a god in his own eyes, a god with a plan, and I was just one more pawn on his board.

    But I wasn’t done yet. I had my own moves to make, my own game to play. And whatever Burke had become, whatever power he thought he wielded, I wasn’t going to let him take this city without a fight.