In that black night—black and bright at once—a new moon reigned proudly in a splendid sky. Vast clusters of stars scattered across the celestial vault. The wind blew as a cold breeze, enough to make anyone shiver. The scenery was enchanting: from the earth, the beauty of the universe seemed within reach, a silent invitation to lose oneself in it.

  That day—or rather, that night—the silence was that of a cemetery. A deathly silence, perhaps an omen of what was about to follow.

  In that cold, motionless night, the entire modern bourgeois city slept. A type-A city—ultra-modern—made up of suspended roads, layered and interwoven in every direction, crossing the whole of the metropolis. A brutal contrast with type-B cities, more contemporary in design. Two clearly distinct bourgeois styles.

  In Psira, a type-A city, a dark park stood out in the obscurity. Only one spot was lit: a bench. Seated on it was a man who appeared to be in his thirties, judging by his build and appearance.

  He wore a full suit without a tie and a black mask. His eyes were red, slit by a golden—yellow-gold—cross. His black hair was as deep and intense as the void itself.

  He seemed to be waiting for someone. Strangely, beneath the bench lay a top hat that he appeared not to have noticed.

  Suddenly, the hat moved.

  A moment later, something emerged from it.

  A rabbit.

  A rabbit about thirty centimeters tall appeared in front of the man, drawing from him a faint smile, clearly amused by such a peculiar entrance.

  The rabbit, indifferent, immediately sat down on the bench, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The man spoke first.

  “Oh… it’s a pleasure to meet you, little creature. So you’re the center of this intriguing organization.”

  The rabbit replied with a slightly superior air, almost irritated.

  “They all like to wear rabbit masks. I’m a rabbit, that much is true. They’re really trying to copy me… but well, it’s not so bad to have fans. Even if I do wonder…”

  He turned toward the man with a wide, chilling smile.

  “And you? Are you one of my fans as well?”

  The man leaned closer, their faces only a few centimeters apart.

  “Well… in a way.”

  He then resumed a more comfortable position on the bench.

  “Even if I look like a grumpy old man, I’m still young, in the prime of my life… for a great dragon.”

  He sighed, slightly blasé.

  “I am a dragon. Call me Void Black. I am the current patriarch. A very young man—single, a virgin, with no children, no lovers, no concubines. And yet, today, I feel something… I am in love.”

  He slowly turned his head toward the rabbit.

  “In love with a rabbit I have only just met. They call that love at first sight. And you, my fair one?”

  The rabbit remained perfectly impassive.

  “The only truth in this pile of nonsense is your name, your position as patriarch, and your race. Old man.”

  The dragon pouted.

  “Oh… you break my heart. But who are you, then?”

  The rabbit seemed to hesitate, then answered casually.

  “Me? I’m an animal. A rabbit… or a doe. An insignificant animal, without a name. But near an oasis, I found inspiration. They call me the Wizard of Oz.”

  Black appeared surprised, just for a moment.

  “That name doesn’t inspire trust. It makes me want to be wary. And yet… no one has ever unsettled me so simply. Except her… but let’s move on.”

  He lifted his head toward the sky.

  “Let us watch the show instead. We have deployed the surveillance program known as the Eye of God, combined with state-of-the-art drones. Everything will be observed in the smallest detail.”

  A little secret: the Wizard of Oz was directly connected to First’s mask—the black rabbit leading the operation. Linked to all the others, First could see absolutely everything.

  Through this channel, First sent a mental transmission, perched atop a rooftop.

  “Oz, caution is required when dealing with this old man. But you had surely already understood that.”

  The rabbit replied immediately through the same link.

  “Of course. Someone who commands resources as if the world belonged to him… even the dullest would understand that, my dear.”

  Then a group transmission followed.

  “All of you, be extremely careful… for God is watching you.”

  Finally, a private transmission.

  “And avoid excesses this time, 55.”

  Five voices responded. Five people, each wearing a crazed smile in their own way—from icy gazes to feral grins.

  “We are the kings of the streets. No road can resist us when we’re driving. We accept this request, princess. We will find the perfect balance between madness and control.”

  “That will be more than enough to get rid of them.”

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