The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne)

Vivienne glanced at the screen and, sure enough, saw the familiar string of digits.

With a calm demeanor, she stepped out of her car but didn't answer the call. Instead, she silenced her phone.

The duo followed the red dot on the screen until they arrived in front of a dilapidated building, where Vivienne gave Percival a knowing look. "Flank him."

After signaling, Vivienne led the way with Percival right behind her, and they started making their way up the building.

The entire place had an eerie vibe, complete with the unsettling sound of dripping water.

Cornered rats, sensing the intrusion, scurried about in the darkness.

It was not until she reached the fifth floor that Vivienne finally took her phone out and held it to her ear.

"What on earth are you doing? Why did you take so long to answer? Do you realize our plan has been compromised? And what about those kids?!"

Connor was on the edge, his voice filled with frustration and desperation.

Vivienne turned a corner and entered a room, "Of course, I knew your plan had failed-because I've taken care of it."

Connor froze, disbelief washing over him as he saw Vivienne holding the sheriff's phone.

"Is this little gift to your liking?" Vivienne stepped forward, her hand opening to let the phone drop and shatter on the ground.

Watching Connor's eyes flash with fury, Vivienne couldn't help but smirk, "You should've known better than to underestimate me, thinking your plan was foolproof. What should I call you now?"

But Connor burst into laughter. "As expected, you've never disappointed me."

Vivienne's gaze lifted slightly, "It's time to end this game, Abigail's foster child."

As she threw a silver dart, Connor quickly dodged behind a column. "Catching me? Let's see if you've got what it takes."

Connor knew Percival was there without seeing him, choosing the fifth floor for its escape potential.

While Vivienne relentlessly pursued him, Percival squinted his eyes as he entered a cramped room.

Inside, Vivienne noticed sculptures with faces marked by a big red X.

Stopping in front of one, she realized the faces belonged to her and her loved ones, furrowing her brow in concern. "Do you like my artwork?"

Connor's voice echoed around the room, but Vivienne couldn't pinpoint his location.

"I've always wanted to turn each of you into a sculpture; I just never had the chance. But soon, I'll start with your dearest ones, and you'll be last. This will be your final resting place."

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"Should I turn Percival into a statue first, or your kids? You'd like mini sculptures, wouldn't you?" Connor knew provoking Vivienne might force her to lose control, leaving the rest to destroy each other. Vivienne remained composed, "I'm actually looking forward to seeing you turned into a sculpture." Connor laughed, "We'll see."

Suddenly, all sculptures turned to face Vivienne, their empty stares unsettling.

She moved quickly, analyzing and smashing them one by one.

Percival, reaching the sixth floor, found a figure resembling Arabella Hawthorn, her face marred by horrific scars. At his sight, she smiled grotesquely.

"Long time no see, Percival. How have you and Vivienne been?"

Without emotion, Percival realized she was a synth, the real Arabella long dead.

Without hesitation, he stabbed her in the temple.

Instead of falling, Arabella seemed thrilled, "Still as ruthless, hurting a lady's feelings just like old times."

As she lunged at Percival with a knife, he dodged and, growing tired of the charade, tossed a mini grenade her way. The explosion reduced Arabella to scrap metal. Feeling the blast, Vivienne knew Percival faced his own trouble.

After dealing with Arabella, Percival encountered another figure, Gillian Ashford, and wasted no time in dispatching her with another grenade.

He had barely taken a few stepsText property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

when Connor's voice rang out from

behind him, "Mr. Percy, you've got quite the knack, figuring out these are fakes so easily. Perhaps underestimated you."

"That's because you're too full of yourself. You think these little tricks can hold me?" Percival scoffed with a smirk.

As they spoke, Percival had already

reached for his weapon and thrust fiercely towards Connor. Connor raised his hand in time to catch the knife that was about to strike him, "Really, resorting to violence when we could just talk this out? That's rather brash."

Connor still had that unchanging, amused look on his face, making it impossible to read his true feelings.

"Cut the chit-chat!" Percival launched attack after attack at Connor, but every move was effortlessly dodged.

After several exchanges, neither had gained the upper hand.

As Percival caught his breath, he realized that Connor had somehow maneuvered them towards the window without him noticing.